shadows-over-the-wastes

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

"She blew a big, blue bubble, popping and sucking it back into her mouth... her venomous yellow eyes were locked on me."

Pinpoint Prim from Fallout Equestria: Shadows Over the Wastes

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

"Feminine, and tempting, often how Aero described a good cider...shadowed eyes... a psychotic grin, biting her bottom lip."

Willow Wayfarer from Fallout Equestria: Shadows Over the Wastes

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

The Mysterious Stranger

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Shadows Over the Wastes: Chapter Nine

Freezing desert winds. It was the hardest thing about living south of the mountains. However, despite that, the night was my time to prowl. My time to fly, dipping between the shadowed clouds that Luna graced us with. I’d been free for two days, but I was taking my time. Whinnyapolis was an easy flight for me. I just had to get back everything I lost before I made it there. The Rangers destroyed my narcotics, and I’ve been fiending for it ever since. That, and some good cider. Hell, I’d drink rubbing alcohol at this point. I took a job to clear out a Gunner camp. Bunch of punks using an old Sparkle-Cola shipping facility to store their guns.

They had a perimeter set, unicorn snipers watching the skies. But they also forgot one crucial detail. They had a skylight that was completely unarmored. The perfect entry point.

Gaining altitude as high as I could manage, my lungs worked overtime. I pierced through the clouds, straight above the warehouse. Then, I folded my wings up, stiffening into a straight torpedo shape, flipping as I hung in the air. I angled myself downward, cybernetic forehooves reaching out in front of me, wings changing angle for maximum aerodynamics. For a flourish, I began to spin, and so too I began my descent. I quickly reached terminal velocity, feeling my face wrinkle with focus. I then use my wings to make sure I go even faster. I feel a barrier pressed against my hooves, something invisible. Red flames crackle around my body, charging straight through my bones. A grin spreads across my thin cheeks, hidden beneath an old aviation half-mask.

Shots sound off like firecrackers down below on approach, most missing me by a hair. Half decent shots, these guys are. I rocket straight through the massive skylight, landing square on the concrete floor. The stone cracks beneath me, sending a thunderous shockwave through the warehouse. Then, my vapor trail finally catches up with me. A tornado of crimson heat rampages through the aisles, half-vaporizing some of the stallions within. My wings shift, getting into a defensive configuration, my eyes piercing the upturned dust and half-melted glass. One of the gunners, a yellow unicorn, screams through the facility. “FUCK! GUYS! REDLINE! I REPEAT! IT’S-!” I cut him off, my horn shooting from my head and lancing straight through his throat like a titanium needle. Then, it magnetizes back, clapping into place on my forehead. I watch as his body limply slumps onto the floor, gurgling through the gaping hole in his neck, twitching.

A hail of bullets rains over towards me. I fan out my wings, using them as a shield as my spine clicks into place. I transfer my stance into a bipedal one, and pop my claws from my hooves. Then, whipping my right foreleg down, the plates, silicon tendons, and wires all shift from their normal arrangement. My claws click together, like a triangular, spiraling blade, and I take an agile stance. I wait until they have to reload, then, I lash outwards. My right foreleg extends outwards, like a segmented whip-blade. It slices straight through three of them, so cleanly that they don’t even realize it for a moment. Blood paints the wall behind them, and they spill out onto the floor, clean in half. Retracting the whip, my left forehoof unfolds, a trio of barrels poking out from the sides. They spin around rapidly, before beginning to unload a storm of high caliber bullets. I rend through six or seven of them, turning them into a fine slurry.

My vulcan winds down, and I take a look around. Silence, nopony making any moves. I tune up my hearing, but it seems I’m a little late on the draw. One last shot, from a sniper rifle, entering through the back of my head, then blasting straight out through my left eye. Sighing, I take off my goggles, looking at the one lens that was now shattered. “Fuck’s sake…”

I turn around, facing a lone pegasus, wielding a hunting rifle. He stood up on a catwalk, presumably he was one of the ponies taking pot-shots at me. He stared me down, watching as I simply stood there, a hole in my head. He watched as it slowly sealed up, healing back to perfection, just like it was before he blasted it, blood staining my cheek. “You’re… you’re a fucking monster!”

“That was mah favorite pair of goggles, asshole.” Slamming a hind hoof on the floor, one of the shards of concrete pops up, and I buck it directly at him. It knocks him off the catwalk, forcing him to plummet a good five meters down. My spine shifted down, and my forehooves formed back to normal. I pick up my eye off the ground, slotting into my empty socket. Slowly walking forward, I pulled the rifle from him, watching him weakly reach for it across the floor. My flight mask hisses, unlocking and dropping down to my collar. I give him a good sniff, before sinking my teeth into his neck. Figure I might as well not let good meat go to waste. As he weakly squirms under my hooves, and I tear bits of his flesh away, consuming it raw, I hear a section of the floor click. My ears swivel around, and my head pops up, snout drenched with blood.

Wiping my face, I carefully approached the origin of the sound. A crack across the floor, from my landing site, that led straight to some strange seam in the concrete. My eyes focus in, and I switch my vision mode to check for any sort of metals beneath the stone. Lo and behold, there was a steel frame around this seam, and an electronic lock. “Well would ya lookie here…” I muttered. Remotely accessing it, I popped the bulkhead, and the block opened up, revealing a blue-lit staircase that led deep underground. “What the hell?” I looked around, making sure no bastard was stupid enough to sneak up on me again. Getting quick confirmation, I descended.

The staircase was extremely long, and clean, even despite obviously being isolated for an immensely long time. The air down here was scrubbed, fresh, and somewhat cold in the lungs, high in oxygen content. This felt familiar. Entirely too familiar. Once I approached the bottom, I saw it. An all white room with pristine computers, bottles of Sparkle-Cola that were seemingly strewn about randomly. As if ponies were working in here not too long ago. I sat down at a computer, pressing down one of the typing dials. It brought up a screen that demanded a password.

Groaning, I entered a shortcut, bringing up the Admin terminal so I could go through it. After a few attempts and restarts, I finally got a password that let me through. Searching around, I found a few email logs, addressed from some company higher-up, it seemed.

SENDER: ASSOCIATE DIRECTOR STAT TRACKER

RECIPIENT: PROJECT LEAD CINNAMON SYRUP

SUBJECT: WORD OF WAR

DEAR DR. SYRUP,

I HOPE THIS MESSAGE FINDS YOU WELL. UNFORTUNATELY, TENSIONS ARE RAPIDLY ACCELERATING, AS YOU WELL KNOW. I HAVE BEEN INFORMED BY THE MINISTRY OF ARCANE SCIENCES AND MINISTRY OF WARTIME TECHNOLOGY THAT THERE IS A HIGH RISK OF CONFLICT RATHER SOON. PLEASE ENSURE THAT PROJECT QUANTUM IS SAFELY CONTAINED. PLEASE USE THE CRYOGENIC CHAMBER ISSUED BY STABLE-TEC. IT HAS A SECURITY RATING FOR OVER 500 YEARS. EVEN IF EASTERN THREATS ARE ENACTED UPON, SHE WILL BE SAFE. PLEASE ENSURE THE CODE TO THE POD IS ENCRYPTED, AND CANNOT BE ACCESSED BY POSSIBLE BREAK-IN RUFFIANS.

SINCERELY, MR. TRACKER

DATE: NOVEMBER 15th, 2088.

Rolling away from the desk, I sigh, pulling a flask from my flank. Unscrewing the cap, I give it a swig, washing the copper taste out of my mouth with rum. Tucking the flask back where it belongs, I hop off the chair, making my way towards a heavy locked door. Through a slim window in the white steel bulkhead, I saw it. A bright red cryopod, calling to me, whispering through the door. It was covered in Sparkle-Cola branding, the window to look within was covered in ice. I rested my face against the glass, looking within, a hoof on the window. “Ah’ll getcha out… y’don’t deserve to be tucked away like that.”

Popping my claws, I shanked them straight into the thick surface, feeling the locks between my fingers. I rake, and snap them. Then, I roar, whipping the bulkhead door open. Fog spills out as it’s exposed to warmer temperatures.

The room is freezing. Even colder than the outside air. I could see my condensation breath with each exhale, dense, pure white. Encroaching the pod, I rested a metal hoof on the surface. Scraping across the window, I removed the layer of frost across it. Then, I saw her.

She was plump, not surprising, she’s pre-war. Rounded cheeks, a thick neck, and a filled out body. Her thick forelegs were clutched close to her chest, little ears poking out from her fuzzy pink coat. She had a long, wild mane of cherry red, with a stripe of cream. She had peach-colored freckles dotting her pudgy cheeks. On her flanks, a cutie mark of a bottle of cola, surrounded by white foam and bubbles. She was magnificent, the smoothest, prettiest, most well-groomed pony I had ever seen in my life. There was something almost supernatural about this feeling. An undeniable magic. I had to get her out. I had to speak to her, listen to her, hear her voice. I had never felt so compelled to do something like this. Not even the drive I felt to eat pony flesh was as strong as the animalistic push I felt to crack open this pod and free her. What the hell was this feeling? I didn’t know her, and she didn’t know me. But it had to be me. I wanted her to be grateful to me. I prayed to Celestia that she would be. Is this brand loyalty?

I dug my claws into the control panel, shredding the internals, turning the cryopod off, and ripping off the front door. I watched as clouds of cold spilled onto the floor like liquid. I could touch her. I held a shaking hoof just in front of her face, claws rattling. No. I couldn’t. It would be wrong. I withdrew my hoof, the claws retracting back into the inner leg. “Quantum?” I mumbled, seeing if she’d respond. I didn’t know if that was her name, but it only seemed right to address her that way. My mind was clouded in a way I didn’t understand.

I watched as she slowly stirred awake, yawning loudly and rubbing her eyes. She opened them, and looked at me, crystal blue irises, like the color of a clear sky. “Oh, you’re not Sparkle-Cola staff. I think? You don’t look like any one of them I’ve seen. Are you new?” Her voice was gentle, mousey, full of youth and optimism. It was silky smooth, just like the rest of her.

“Nah… uh, Ah ain’t. Staff, Ah mean.” I backed up, waiting for her to exit the pod.

“Oh! You’re Appleoosan! I’ve always loved those accents… such a great sound to them.” She smiles, pristine, pearly white teeth, unlike any I’ve ever seen. Then, she slowly clambers out of the chamber. Looking around, she recognizes how much of the lab I destroyed. “Wow… did you do all this?”

“Appleachian, actually. But yeah, Ah did.” I nod.

“Ho-ly! That’s nuts! I’ve never met anypony that strong!” She chuckles, seemingly admiring the fact I stripped the door away like it was nothing. “I’m Quantum Fizzle. What’s your name, miss?”

“Cardinal Rime, like ‘frost’, not the way words work in a poem.” I clear my throat, “Ya can just call me Carrie, though.”

Clapping her hooves together, she looked through the door. “Are we allowed to leave?”

“Yeah, no pony is gonna stop us. Far as Ah know.” I make my way for the stairs, glancing up to the exit. “Y’good t’follow?”

“Oh absolutely.” She cheerfully follows behind me, heftily making her way up the stairs behind me. She was slow, but I didn’t mind. I guess she comes from a time where one could afford to be slow. When life could be taken a day at a time. Hell, even a minute at a time.

However, as I awaited at the top of the steps, I suddenly heard a rifle bolt cycle, a casing dropping onto the floor. “Well well, looks like I found a pair of wasters amongst the dead.” A feminine voice called. Turning my head over my shoulder, I saw her. An earth pony with a drab rose coat, and dark, rich, curly hair, blue like the deep of the ocean. She was chewing something, I found out what almost as soon as I realized. She blew a big, blue bubble, popping and sucking it back into her mouth. Gum, probably blueberry or huckleberry. Her venomous yellow eyes were locked on me. There were scars stretched across her face. One on the left side of her lip that crawled down her jaw and over her throat, another seen just behind her wavy bangs. Like her skull had once been peeled away. She wore a canvas jacket, held together with pins and sewn-on buttons, sandy wrappings around her forelegs, a beige, hooded shawl around her shoulders. In her hooves, standing on her hind legs, she clutched a bolt-action rifle. “Are you the one who killed all these Gunners?”

I pop my wings, the blades extending. “Damn right Ah am. Got a problem, lil’ filly?”

Fizzle pops her head up from the stairs, looking around the warehouse. She’s sickened for a moment, almost looking green in the face from the gore strewn about. “Oh, sweet Celestia. What… happened out here?” She focuses up, head swiveling in the direction of the sniper mare. “Oh! Another friend! Did you two-” her eyes then immediately lock on the gun she held, ready to be fired.

“Who paid you to take this job?” The mare asks.

“How’ssat any-a ‘yer fuckin’ business?” I narrow my eyes.

She shoulders the rifle, aiming it straight at me. “Answer the fucking question, you flesh-hound.”

Fizzle hurries and stands between us, holding up a hoof. “Whoa, whoa! Isn’t there enough blood on the walls?? Surely we can sort this out, girls. Like proper, civilized ponies?”

“Sure can. Answer the question, hick.” The dusty earth pony smirks, chuckling to herself.

I grin, “Jiggy. Why? Issat causin’ some kinda fuckin’ problem?”

Looking around the warehouse, the gung-ho marksmare shakes her head. “You’re sporting Enclave tech, isn’t that right? You’re that one mare, Redline, ponies call you. The crazed cannibal from Appleoosa.”

“It’s fuckin’ Appleachia!” I correct. “So y’know who mah moniker. Congratu-fuckin’-lations. What’s yer business then?” Some of the plates on my left forehoof shifted, preparing a gun barrel, just in case.

Reaching into her vest, she scoops out a metal disc. Near identical to the one I received from Tin Tanner. “Got this from a fella by the name of Logjam. Gave me 1000 caps to come here, then head North, to Whinnyapolis. What the hell is this, and why did he give it to me?”

Sighing, I pull my disc from my coat pocket, clutching it between my popped claws. “It’s a Mechanist tracking device. They call it a Bit-Bouncer, ‘cause it looks like the pre-war bits. It’s a magical pocket mine, makes sure ya keep yerself on the track it wants. Otherwise, it blows ya to gibs.” I tuck it away. ��Second it’s got a lock on ya, yer bound to fulfill the instructions y’were given.“

The mare glances down at the device. “Fuck. That’s… slimy.”

“Impressive he paid ya. Prolly to motivate you. Courier?” I tilt my head.

“Sure am.” She replies.

“Like a mailmare?” Fizzle raises a brow.

“Like a mailmare, ‘cept she’s armed to the teeth and twice as dangerous. Wasters hire ‘em when they need a package delivered. Living or dead, by any means necessary.” I educated the freshly introduced pre-war pony. “She might look all there. But trust, Couriers is just as mad as me. Speakin’ o’ which. Care t’ tell me yer name?”

Pocketing the device and slinging the rifle back over her shoulder, she rests on four legs once more. Sighing, she relents, finally dropping the front. “Pinpoint Prim. I fail to see why that matters.” She looks around, “How the hell did you do all this? You’re not even carrying any weapons, and there’s more empty casings on the ground than any of their weapons could’ve ejected. That, and they’re far higher caliber.” She picks up one of my spent cartridges. “This is 6.8 Millimeter. This is a military grade round. Not like any of the shit they got. This had to have been you, but how?”

I flick my left hoof forward, the three barrel gun spinning up and out as soon as I do, loudly whirring. “Let’s say Ah got tricks up mah sleeve.”

Fizzle’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. “Whoa! You have a minigun built into your prosthetics??” She crouches down, getting a good look at it from a lower angle. “That’s so cool!”

“That’s Enclave tech for you. Highest grade shit since the War. Hell, I’d wager most of that probably is Wartime tech. If not designed by somepony from Pre-War.” Prim commented. “Fuck… you could’ve turned me into swiss cheese that whole time. That’s a vulcan.”

Flexing my forehoof, it all clicks back into place under the panelling again, and I set my hoof down. “More‘r less. Figured Ah’d let ya least have a chance ‘fore Ah blew yer head off. Ah don’t got no beef wit Couriers, and Ah’d like to keep it that way.”

“She with you?” The merc gestures to Fizzle.

“I am now. Right? If what you’re saying is true, there’s no safer place to be than behind her!” The pudgy soda pony poked me, kind of leaned away, just in case. “You guys keep referring to the War. I’m assuming the bombs dropped? How long’s it been?”

I sharply inhale, holding my breath in my cheeks for a moment, glancing over at Prim. The mare shrugs, so I let my breath go, exhaling exhaustedly. “300 years, give‘r take. Ah gotta catch ya up on a lot.”

Fizzle claps her hooves together excitedly. “Hooray! I get to learn some new history! Uh…” she looks around, “so, like, the Sparkle-Cola brand director’s hounds aren’t gonna come after me if I leave, right? Like, I’m safe to just… go with you?”

“Fizzle, them ponies is prolly dead, sugarcube.” I give her a gentle hoof on the back. “An’ if they ain’t? They’re prolly frozen in a Stable somewhere.”

“Oh, yes! Does that mean I can grab some of this Cola before we leave? It’s been like, 300 years, after all.” She waves a hoof over to the racks of hundreds of bottles.

“Uh huh, just… gimme a sec.” I fly up, moving and pilfering the cleanest bodies I could find. Which wasn’t a lot. I took the largest saddlebags I thought she could manage, and some clothes. None of the clothes would fit her, but I tore them up and tied them together, making her a cloak out of quilted-together Gunner camo. Then, I flew my way back over, hoofing them over. “Here, put these on. Grab as much Cola as y’can carry. It’s good fer drinks and it’ll get us some caps.”

She puts on the supplies I gave, with a bit of a struggle, clearly not used to this sort of thing. However, once she does, she raises a hoof and salutes. “Yes, ma’am!” She gives a smile, before hurriedly scurrying her way over to the racks.

Prim and I watch as she sorts through, the merc grabbing another stick of gum from a belt on her vest. Putting it in her mouth, she pulls the foil away, balling it up against her chest and pocketing it. It snaps as her teeth pop something in the stick. Chewing it around, she glances over at me. After another bubble, she runs her tongue over her blue-stained teeth. “So, you know this stallion up North?”

“We ain’t friends.” I reply.

“Sheesh. Gruuuumpy.” She rolls her eyes, “You had this nasty wrinkle in your snout when I said ‘Whinnyapolis’. Whatcha know about this business?”

I sighed. Clearly she was trying to make conversation, whether to learn all she could so she could go it alone, or get ready to kill him when we did arrive. Either way, I didn’t really care. “Cold Crank. Worst, most ruthless Mechanist in the whole waste. He ain’t nothin’ but trouble. Fer ‘imself and everypony else. Leads a cult, call themselves Piston Ponies. They’re insane, e’en by mah standards.”

“What about her?” Prim points at Fizzle. “Isn’t she the mascot of Sparkle-Cola? Won’t she drag you down?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Ah got enough power for three ponies. Hell. Even if ya weren’t a courier, Ah’d be able to handle ya both just fine. Just… can’t fly there no more. Which is ahright. Just means it’ll take a lil longer…”

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[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Shadows Over the Wastes: Chapter Eight

The day was long and the sun was high before I reached home. I’d left Cake on her lonesome, hopefully strong enough to reach Foaledo and Whinnyapolis by herself. I wasn’t sure, but I had to have some confidence. She now knew the dangers she was against, here’s hoping she made good on pushing through them. However, I had my own problems to face. It had been a few days' trip to get back to where I belonged, so to speak. Sires Hollow, a place that had been converted into a base camp by my Rusteater colleagues.

High walls made of weathered old metal bulkheads, I-beams, car parts, and sheets of steel. I removed my helmet as I approached the front gate, an old flip-up garage door with pony skeletons woven into it with barbed wire. Standing atop it was a pair of ponies I very much recognized. A short, burly pegasus named Deft Branch, and a slim, rather malnourished looking unicorn named Steel Bramble. “Well look who it is!” Branch starts, flying up slightly over the wall, still holding the side, his heavy rusted armor weighing him down. “Welcome back, Chocco!” He snickers, giving a mean-spirited grin. “Where’s your raiding party, huh?”

“Let me inside, Branch. It’s of no concern to you where that pathetic trio of half-witted wimps ended up.” I snap back, converging my brows. “Unless of course, you’d like to find out.” Tilting my head, I squint. I watch the two of them exchange a glance.

“That supposed to be a threat, Big Boy?” Bramble pokes.

“No. But if you’d like one, here it is.” I stand up on my hind legs, flicking out my right foreleg to engage the dual blades on my gauntlet. “Open the door, or I’ll scale the wall and stand on your chest while I wrench your head off with my bare fucking hooves.”

Branch and Bramble begin to laugh, and I start to advance. However, before I can, a voice on the other side booms through the area. “Let him in, worms.” Deep, gruff, and imposing. I knew exactly who it was. Without a moment of hesitation, they open it, following his orders. The door slowly lifts, revealing none other than Cripps Crackle. My father. An earth pony, who stood at my same height, if not a little more, the two of us towering over every other stallion in camp. He had a red-orange coat, with yellow dusting near his hooves. Bright yellow eyes, and a short, swept back pale blonde mane, that same color growing around his jaw in a thick line, perching itself under his lip. I looked like him in every way I didn’t. Same face, same eyes, same build. But judging from color alone, we couldn’t be more dissimilar. “Son.” He states, “You and I need to have a talk.”

Retracting the blades on my gauntlet, I move back down to four legs, hooking my helmet onto my belt. Without saying a word, I meet him inside, but the gate doesn’t close. He stares me down. There’s a deep seeded rage behind his eyes, one I could feel burning into the back of my skull. “What’s this about, geezer?” I reply, keeping a stern, strong attitude.

He throws down a set of pictures, polaroids, taken from an old camera. A working camera?? Out here in the middle of nowhere? Who the hell even still had one of those? It was pictures of me rescuing Cake. Standing over her, helping her. Suturing her wounds, making sure she got aid. Even the two of us camped out, sharing bloatsprite skewers. “Who the hell is this filly you been fraternizing with?”

“Fraternizing??” I squint, feeling my snout wrinkle. “I did nothing of the sort.”

“She was a Stable Dweller, Chocco. Y’think I’m some kinda fuckin’ moron?” He lets out a wheezy chuckle. “Such a little thing, perfect breed-stock, and you just let her walk away. She could’ve been worth hundreds, maybe even thousands of caps, and you let her stroll right away!” Cripps raises his voice, “You cost us money, BOY! Are you goin’ soft??” The Rusteaters in the buildings around us turn their attention and focus only to him and I. I glance around, noticing the stares I’m getting. “You were supposed to be the one to take my place, boy. Where’s your brutality?”

A grin spreads across my face, “My brutality? You know nothing of my brutality, old man.” I glance around, watching as a few Rusteaters draw their weapons. Then, before any can advance, I raise a hoof. “I declare a duel for the crown.”

My father and the other Rusteaters gasp, taking a step back. “You wouldn’t!” Cripps snaps back. “You don’t have the spine to demand that!”

I chuckle, leaning in. “Oh I do. And I will.” Forcing myself up onto my hind legs, I hold out my forehooves. “EVERY RUSTEATER WILL BE WITNESS! TWO SHALL FIGHT, ONE SHALL LIVE.” My voice echoes through the camp. “AND THE RIGHTFUL RULER WILL REMAIN.”

Cripps squints, a rage settling in his face. “You really believe you can kill me, boy?”

I settle back down on all four hooves, slowly approaching the old man. I smirk, getting in his face, not breaking eye contact for a second. “Believe? There’s no ‘belief’ to it. I know I can kill you. And I know I will.” I push him out of my way, making my way towards the center of the camp. “3 hours, you bag of dust. Then, I will humiliate you.”

I make my way straight through the camp, feeling all of the eyes of the Rusteaters on me. After a little while of trudging through, I make it to an old, rusted little structure. My hovel, I wouldn’t even call it a house. Just somewhere I dwell when I’m not on the road. I lock the door behind me, sighing loudly. “That was a really stupid move, Chocco.” A light voice fills the dead air within my dwelling. I glance over, getting a good look at the source.

Racing Stripes. A zebra-pegasus hybrid. One of a few in the camp. He had a dandelion yellow coat with mustard brown stripes and a long, blazing teal mane; full of locs that were pulled back and held together with nuts and old tool bits. His pale blue eyes were locked on me, a bit shaky, from eagerness and anxiety. “Hey, Stripes.” I glance over at him, my voice gentle and measured. High contrast to the Raiders outside. I hang my helmet and weapons on the wall, relieving my back of their weight.

He flaps his wings a few times, carefully drifting over. Placing a hoof on my chest, he glances up at me, “Chocco… I know you wanna make a difference in this clan, but this is too dangerous. Your father is old, but… not old enough. Just a year or two and you could’ve had the crown uncontested.” His voice was smooth and calming to me, but what he said contradicted that tranquil. What he was saying, it simply wasn’t true.

I placed one of my hooves over his, shaking my head. “You don’t understand, Stripes. I had no choice.” Sighing, I glance away, “Besides. I’m… sick of letting his old ways define us. Pillaging and raping every small town we see for their resources and population is becoming unsustainable. It has been unsustainable.”

“You sound like your mom…” Stripes tilts his head.

“Because she was right!” I snap back. “She was right, Stripes. The Rusteaters are the most feared Raider clan in the entirety of the wastes. My father has control not only here, but southward and west as well. The Steel Rangers shake in their suits at the sight of us, and most other clans turn tail when we show up. Do you know what somepony could do with that power?”

“Burn the wastes to the ground and rebuild it in their image?” He cocks his head.

I groan, “Yes, but…” I hold up a hoof, “if somepony like me had that crown? I could make something of this clan. Something productive! A stern, but benevolent king. One with an iron hoof and a golden heart. That’s what the wasteland needs.”

Stripes tugs on my chestplate, tilting his head to the other side and giving a smug grin. “Wow… you think pretty highly of yourself, huh? Alright mister ‘iron hoof, golden heart’, what’s the plan? How’re you gonna kill your dear old dad?” He wasn’t taking me seriously. As much as I couldn’t stand it, the scolding would have to wait until a better time.

I calm down, starting to unbuckle my armor. “Rules of the duel dictate that I have to be unarmored. Both of us do.”

He peels off my chestplate, placing his snout under my jaw. “You want me to bless you, Chocco? We can do the ritual in here, where nopony has to see…”

I smirk, feeling one of his hooves rub over my scarred chest. “You wanna help me strip out this armor, I take it? I could use a morale boost before I rip my old man’s head off. Also… I know how much you love calling me that, but I picked up a new name recently. Some weirdo called me ‘Chopper’… I think it has a nice ring to it.”

“Chopper, hm? I like it.” Stripes chuckles, “Fits your style. Slice and dice…”

“Now, Stripes, help me get the rest of this off, eh?” I rub one of my dark brown hooves up under his chin, smiling.

He pulls me over to an assembly of a few old mattresses on the floor, starting to pull the remnants of my armor off. As his hooves work the buckles on my gauntlets, he rests on my midsection as I sit up against the wall, his head on my chest. His wings vibrate, puffing up and resting against his back. “You promise me you’ll make it through this?”

I lean my head down, pressing my snout against his head. “I promise, Stripes. You’ve seen the shit I come back from. You remember when we came back from beating on a camp of the Foals of Atom and my scalp was practically hanging off my skull?”

“Or the time you sunk a whole ship full of Sharkbait and had enough harpoons stuck in your back to make you look like a hedgehog?” He sighs worriedly, shifting to unbuckle the other gauntlet. “Of course I remember, hon. But you’re not immortal. You’re not invincible.”

Nodding, I curl my free foreleg around him. “I know, but I’m not easy to kill either. Sure. Cripps is my match. He’s my father, it’s bound to be close. But…” I watch as he removes my gauntlet, letting him take a second to look up at me. “I’m gonna kill that prick and take his crown. Come hell or high water. Right?”

“Right…” he reaches under his loose, dark robing. Pulling out a few little things, he sets them down beside the bed. A bag of black powder, rust paint, and a tin of nails. Stripes undoes his robe, turning to lean his midsection against mine, laying on me. He stares up at me, and I down at him, our snouts just a hair apart. “I don’t think you’ll lose, Chops. I have hope. Or… confidence, I mean, that you’ll win. I’m sure of it.” He hangs his forehooves up around the back of my neck. “But… just in case, either way. I’m gonna say it again. You’re one of the best stallions I’ve ever met. And I love you. Even if I’m not supposed to…”

I push my snout forward, my nose pressing against his. I didn’t really know how to reply to that. For a multitude of reasons, I couldn’t take what he said to heart. However, right now I don't need that burden. If I did die, it’d suck to leave him in such an awful emotional place. “I love you too, Stripey.” Half-truth. It was more complicated than that. “We’re gonna make this wasteland a better place. For us, and everypony else. I promise.” I tilt my head, pulling him a little closer so our lips can make contact. Admittedly, I missed him. Even if my trip on the road was only a week long, I felt starved of his presence. He was a clan shaman, and thus had to mostly remain here in order to maintain the wards around the camp and tend to the ill.

But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that we had this time together, regardless of how long it lasted. I huffed as our lips pushed and locked with one another, Stripes’ wings twitching and opening up slightly. The pegasus groans as he shifts his rear against my lap. The sensation sends a spike up my spine, suddenly beginning to feel empty headed. I knew that at least after this, I’d be able to fight my father with as much clarity as I could manage.

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3 hours later and I was achy all over, but in a good way. My body was painted in markings of rust paint and black powder. Markings like running tears, black, down my face, with rustic stripes across my snout and the back of my ears. All across my nude body, down every inch, I had smooth, rounded markings of black, with striking rusty carvings. Some of Stripes’ best work. On each of my flanks, I had nails driven into the flesh around my cutie marks. A triangle shape around the shattered chocolate shield and mint leaf crest. A blessing. A ward on my soul, that it might find eternity. They bled a decent amount, but I didn't care. The piercings were a symbol of love. And that’s what I was fighting for.

My father, however, wore what we like to call “corpse paint”. Whitepowder base on the head, neck, and upper chest. Then, in black powder, dark circles around the eyes, “stitching” over the mouth, and a “Y” shaped smear on the abdomen. He had a nail driven through the septum of his nose, and a trio of nails punctured into his chest around his heart. This was a common configuration for war, conquest, or domination. He was fighting to prove that his word was superior. His ideas were superior. We’d see about that.

“The rules are simple!” Stripes yells, part of the panel of shamans watching over the duel. “No magic. No outside help. Fleeing the designated dueling circle will result in immediate execution. You will be provided your weapon of choice. That is the only weapon, besides your hooves, that you may use during the fight. The first one to kill the other is the winner!”

A mare approaches my father. He stands on his hind legs. Holding out a hoof for his weapon. A serrated sword, forged from welded-together sawblades. “Anything you wanna get off your chest ‘fore I saw your head off, boy?” He smirks.

Stripes approaches and gives me my axe as I stand on my hind legs, matching my father. I run my hoof across the head, locking eyes with him. “Make your peace with Railspike now, old stallion. Because you’ll never see him.”

He lets out a low, wheezy laugh as we both step towards the center, within leg’s reach of one another. “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you?”

“Right you are, dick’ead.” I spin the axe, lowering my stance. “I can’t wait to hear the sinew snap in your neck as I screw your fucking head off your shoulders like a soda cap.”

Flying up above the gathered crowd, Stripes raises a foreleg. “Before you, the trial will commence. Railspike bless your souls, and may Celestia have mercy on you both. BEGIN!”

My father leaps forward, sword cocked back, aiming to skewer me straight in the chest. As I watch his hoof wind back, I trail my left hind hoof behind me, using it to spin out of the way. The blade narrowly avoids me as it thrusts straight forward. However, I know that won’t be the end of his initial attack. He’s less careful than that. I’ve seen how he plays these games. Twirling my axe by the haft, I watch as he chops through the air with the serrated blade. I angle the head of my axe to parry, sparks flying off both of our weapons upon contact. With the parry, he quickly changes direction of his swing, an overhead cut. I move my hooves out of the way and fold my body to the side, letting the sword narrowly miss, striking the dried mud below. Placing my axe on top, locking the metal together, I pin his blade down. Then, with a grunt, I slam my shoulder into his chest, knocking him back.

He huffs as he rolls over his back, scowling. The crowd murmurs in anticipation, watching intently. “Decent. Barely acceptable. That was a warm up, boy.” He stands up fully, on all four hooves. “I was making sure you were paying attention, and not giving your boyfriend googly eyes.”

I grit my teeth, baring my fangs. “Leave him out of this.”

“Maybe he’ll finally realize his use once I show him what a weakling you are.” He grunts, speeding forward, far faster than he ever did before. He catches me completely off guard, pouncing towards me and rotating in the air. His hind legs snap forwards, both hooves slamming into my chest. He bucks me as hard as he can, sending me tumbling backwards. My axe flies out of my hooves, landing head-first in the dirt some ways away from me. Still in the circle. I wheeze as I pull myself up. He definitely broke a rib or two. Coughing a few times, blood spills out in flecks, coating one of my hooves. I couldn’t let him do that again. He nearly knocked my spine out my ass. But I couldn’t show any hesitation. Hesitation means death. “Aw, what’s wrong? Haven’t hit you that hard since you were a colt, huh?” He picks up his sword, standing on his hind legs again, chuckling.

I roll forward, springing off my hind legs to leap towards him. He brings his blade up to swat me out of the air, but I dive down before he can hit me. I land on my back, bucking him in the belly. It knocks the air out of him, and he hunches over. I follow up, rocketing a hind leg straight into his face. Blood sprays from his nose as I feel his snout crunch under my hoof. Stumbling back, he leaves a window for me to tackle him. Which I do. “You’re a real… nnngh! PRICK! You know that?!” I push him onto the ground, crawling on top of him. With a flurry of punches to the face, blood sprays all over the dirt. “I’ll have you dead before dinner! Maybe then, I’LL HAVE YOU FOR DINNER!”

A spike slides into my belly, below my ribs, narrowly missing my lungs. The pommel of his sword. It throws me off, and he grabs my throat. Pulling me down, he head-butts me straight in the nose, his iron skull nearly breaking my snout. It busts my lip and knocks me back. Falling off of him. I feel the spike slide out of my belly, and I quickly try to crawl towards my axe. “You think yourself so fucking strong, eh?!” I keep going, just barely out of hoof’s reach of it. However, I feel his sword sink into the cannon of my right hind leg. I yelp, and he wrenches it, dragging me back a little bit. “You’re goin’ nowhere, boy!” I try to reach for the axe, but I’m just barely not close enough. He stands on my injured leg, pinning me down. Letting out a grunt of pain, the crowd’s attitude begins to pick up, cheering for my father. “Time to put you down like the dog you are.” He raises his sword over his head, smiling through bloodied teeth.

I realize I have little choice. But I’m not letting him kill me. As his blade comes down, I whip my head around, meeting the serrated sword half way. The blade gets caught in my horn, about two thirds of the way down. His eyes are wide with shock, but he growls. I move and grab my axe, but not before he begins twisting the sword. “You think this pathetic thing’ll stop me, boy?! It’s about time I get RID OF IT!” With a loud crack and a metal twang, both the sword and my horn snap. It lets out a shockwave of green magic, knocking him back, leaving me screaming in agony.

“YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I’LL HAVE YOUR HEAD!” Green magic crackles around my head in a halo, blood pouring down my face in free-flow. I’m struck with a second wind, getting up with my axe and sprinting over.

The crowd goes silent, watching in disturbance as my own blood blinds me. I swing wildly at my father, roaring, foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal. I can’t feel anything. Adrenaline running through my body like a flood of Rage. My father gets up, trying to dodge my swings, getting nicked and sliced by the edge as he’s barely able to move in time. Then, I go for a strong chop at his left flank, the axe burying itself in his flesh, embedded in the bone. “AGH!” Cripps wails, before  punching me in the throat, and slamming his free hoof down at the midpoint of the axe’s haft. The shaft snaps in half, and I stumble back from the momentary delay of air to my body. Bits of concrete filler from the shaft crumble onto the ground. “YOU LITTLE FUCKER!” He rips the axe from his leg, almost buckling under his own weight. Then, as I try to recover, I glance up.

My own axe head strikes me in the face. The edge. Embedding into the left side of my head. Into my snout, and into my eye. I fall backwards, straight onto my spine. Limp. My only working eye rolls slightly into my head, and I let out a wheezy croak.

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“CHOPPER!” I scream, my agony drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. The other shamans hold me back, listening to the sound of the other Rusteaters. This couldn’t be true. He couldn’t be dead. He was supposed to win. He was supposed to be the next Rust Lord. How could this happen??? How could this rotten old bastard kill my love?! How could he-

“What a fuckin’ disappointment you turned out to be.” Cripps chuckles weakly, turning around and holding out his forelegs to the crowd. “I WILL NEVER FALL! I AM YOUR RUST LORD. NONE SHALL EVER KILL ME!” He roars, smiling.

“He can’t be dead…” Rage and pain whirled in my body, tears streaming down my cheeks. “No no no…”

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As I lay on the ground, bleeding all over the soil, I stare up at the sky. It’s clear. Blue. For once in my whole life the sky is blue. Was it always like that and I’d just never noticed? Maybe. Or maybe just today, Celestia was gracing me with a clear blue sky.

Blinking, I suddenly saw a figure standing over me. A stallion. An earth pony. With a pale gray coat and a long, rust-orange mane. He was covered in black robes, decorated with chrome plated armoring and jewelry. He had chrome piercings all over his face, with dark makeup around his eyes. Of which, were gray and lifeless. The eyes of a corpse. His grace gleamed in the sunlight, like a messenger sent from above. “Get up, Chopper. Your reign doesn’t end here.” His voice is gruff, calm, and commanding.

My eye widens, and I suddenly realize exactly who I am beholding. “Father… Railspike?”

“You are my chosen, young Chopper. Don’t let me down. Rise, and become my avatar, gilded in eternal chrome.” He rests a hoof on my chest. “You are strong. You… are blessed.”

I blinked again, and as soon as he appeared, he was gone. Rolling weakly onto my side, I slowly get up. My father seems to still be riling up the crowd. The perfect opportunity to strike. All eyes on him. Grinning, ear to ear, I stand on my hind legs. “I, alone, am Railspike’s chosen…” I whisper, “his avatar. Gilded in eternal chrome.” Grunting, I pull the axe from my face, leaving a gaping gash where it once rested. Then, I raise the axe above my head.

My father notices the crowd has fallen silent, “Why have you all ceased your cheering??” He frustratedly asks. His hubris has gotten the better of him once more. For the final time.

I heave, the axe crunching deep into his collar bone, buried in his shoulder. He screams, buckling under his weight finally. He drops down, sitting on his cut open flank as I twist the axe in his shoulder. Then, I pin one of his legs down at the haunch with one of my hind legs. I wrap both of my forelegs around his head, in a headlock. I laugh, getting up to his ear as I speak through a bloodied, broken snout. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

With every bit of energy my body had left, I pulled as hard as I could possibly manage, howling into the sky. I feel the muscles and sinew pop and stretch in his neck, spinal cord and vertebrae straining to keep together. Then, with one final twist and tug, his head pops clean off, coming free from his neck with a sickening squelch and crackle. His body falls limply to the ground. Nothing more than worm food. Holding his head up over my own in a hoof, I wheeze, panting, trying to stay standing. “I AM RAILSPIKE’S CHOSEN! I AM IMMORTAL IN HIS GRACE! I AM YOUR KING NOW! AND ANY WHO DARE TO CHALLENGE ME WILL DIE!” I shout so hard that my body shakes, spitting bloody saliva everywhere.

The crowd stays motionless for a moment, before erupting into a riot of awe at the spectacle. I look over at the shamans, who are all collectively jaws-agape. Stripe speeds over, carefully pulling me into a hug. “Oh thank Celestia… thank Father Railspike. I thought you were dead! I thought you were dead!” He sobs and sniffles into my blood-smeared chest.

I give a weak chuckle, dropping my father’s head so I can run my hoof over his mane. “You should know better, Stripes. I don’t go down easy.”

He pulls away slightly, and I drop back down to four hooves. He hovers up a bit so he can cup my face. “He fucked you up… but at least you’re gonna have a crazy cool scar from this whole thing.” Stripes chuckles through his tears. “Let’s get the shamans to fix you up.”

I let out a deep sigh, leaning into his hooves as he held me. “Please… I dunno how much longer I can keep standing.”

PREV | FIRST | NEXT

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Three centuries ago, the Final Day wiped out most major cities and towns across the Equestrian continent. Now, a trio of ponies from wildly different paths of life must work together to secure the change needed to return the nation to its former glory. Yellowcake "Cake" Cream, a Stable reactor technician who sees herself as little more than just another name in the pages to Reclamation, is awoken to her part in a grand plan. Rudely disturbed from her life of sanctuary and sterility, she makes her move out into the wastes to fulfill her purpose. Chocolate "Chopper" Pennyroyal is the heir to the throne of a Raider clan, but is unsatisfied with his place in Equestria's history. Taking the first opportunity to forge his own path to a throne with a new meaning, he must face the trials and tribulations that come with going against the grain of the life he's known. Cardinal "Carrie" Rime is an abomination of scientific hubris. A drug addict, an alcoholic, a ravenous, cybernetically enhanced, and bloodthirsty cannibal. Searching for a purpose, she soon finds herself in the sights of a stallion vying for power, and the pressure of her complicated history.

Start reading FOE:SOtW here, and check out our other pages here! we've been working on refining sotw for just over a year now and we're thrilled to finally share it with the FOE community :)

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

A bit of a willow sketch dump for yall!

Willow Wayfarer is a recycled character design that we would roleplay with before making her a character in shadows over the wastes.

adapting a character from pre to post war has been an amazing way to see how the wasteland has changed Equestria.

We both hope you like her!

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Timelapse of the chapter 7 illustration :) the song is back street luv by curved air and for the longest time we've considered it willows theme :)

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Shadows Over the Wastes: Chapter Seven

About a week and a half on the road, nothing but walking the path and watching out for any manner of dangerous things. Raiders, mostly, but flashing my Rusteater medallion got them to turn swiftly away. For now. Food and water were oddly plentiful out here. Depending on what your definition of food was. My time with Chopper passively taught me what was and wasn’t edible. By typical pony standards. Bloatsprites? Edible. Radscorpions? Edible. Yao Guai? Edible. Just don’t get eaten by them first. I quickly found out that anything extra infested with rads was fair game for me. In fact, they were better. My cough went away whenever I had more radiation in my system. The rest of the time? It was hack after hack. I hadn’t been like this since I was a filly, perpetually bronchitis-riddled. I guess that was a revelation. It wasn’t age making me healthier. It was the rads. Oh well, it answered a lot of questions.

Foaledo was on the horizon. A little wooded town, constructed from old pieces of stripped bunkers, surrounded by a wall made of car chassis covered with sheet metal, reinforced with old tank treads. The stallions guarding the wall wore old green uniforms, welding suits, padded with tire strips, nails, and squares cut from chain link fences. They wore helmets, old hoofball helmets with road spikes welded to the top, and pilot goggles. They carried old rifles, modified with makeshift picatinny rails and ammo belts.

As I approached, they locked their barrels onto me, a set of turrets that used propane tanks as ammunition containers swiveled my way. “Who the hell are you? You don’t look local.” One of them on the wall said. I could see one of his purple eyes through his visor, a strange, primal fear instilled within. Base instincts, like an animal.

“Uh, I mean. Yeah I guess not. I’m from Stable 27, two weeks north by hoof.” I explained, glancing around, “You always this wary of strangers?”

The other stallion chuckles, flashing yellowed teeth behind crimson cheeks. “What a stupid fucking question. You’re a Stable Dweller alright. What got you kicked out?”

I tap a hoof against my chin before I answer. “Uh. Nothing. I left of my own accord.”

The two stallions look at each other, slinging their rifles back on their sides. The one with purple eyes shakes his head. “Why on Celestia’s rad-packed Equus would you do that? You don’t even look like you know how to use that knife on your leg, let alone a fucking gun.” Surprised he even knew the rest of the world’s name. Maybe these ponies were a little bit more educated. Maybe. He points at me. “Are you crazy?”

“That’s plausible!” I shrug and nod, not entirely sure how to respond. “Am I allowed in or do we need to keep playing 20 questions? If so, I think you only have 16 left. I’m fine either way honestly. This is the most civilized conversation I’ve had in like, a week.”

The two stallions begin wheezing, slapping the sides of the wall as they holler, laughing at my words. They cackle for a good long while, in one another’s face, practically restarting their laugh session a few times. Then, the red stallion relents. “Fuck me, you are unique! Holy shit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any Sardines as sassy as you! Hoo!” He wipes tears away from under his goggles. “Wow, that was entertaining.” He sniffs, “Yeah, you can come in, I don’t believe you have it in you to kill a Bloatsprite, let alone a pony.”

My smile fades as I hear his judgement, ears relaxing, eyebrows lowering. I had to grit my teeth, feeling my left eye twitching. What a prick. As the rusted old gate hoisted upwards, I walked into town. I saunter under the giant metal barricade, shaking my head impatiently.

Inside, the city was rather well put together. It seemed as if it had been burned once before, and rebuilt. Buildings were made from a mix of thick, ashen logs from the forest around, secured with rail spikes, bike chains, and steel plates. It was a rather busy place, ponies of all kinds moving from building to building. I even stumbled across a Nightkin, wrapped in burlap, selling fixed up electronics. Then, I stumbled into a mare, a pegasus, standing in front of a small building with a green cross above it. She had a white coat, pure white, with a mane of violet that progressively darkened towards the ends. She had bright red eyes, the sclera off color. On her neck hung a set of red welding goggles, and she wore an old flight jacket. It had a faded Wonderbolts patch, studs added to the shoulders, and a strange frame under white wings.

“Oh, shit! Sorry-“ I started, watching as her focus turned to me. The longer I looked, the more I realized she was rather green looking in the cheeks.

“Watch where you’re-“ she heaves, cupping a hoof over her pallid face, then gulps loudly, “fuckin’ goin’.”

I grimaced, backing away slightly. “Are… you alright?”

“She’s got fuckin’ rad sickness, you shit-for-brains!” A hoarse, ragged feminine voice calls from behind the counter. As I look, I visibly recoil a bit from what I see. A mare with mostly melted looking, swirly burned skin. Her coat was gone, and all that remained was irritated-looking scorch scars, all over. She had scraps of a blue mane hanging in her face, glowing yellow eyes, her sclera blackened. I remember Chopper telling me about ponies like this. Ghouls. This one was non-feral. Mostly. “Now buy somethin’ or GET LOST!”

“Oh, rad sickness? Uh, here.” I use my magic to pull the Rad-X and Rad-Away from my saddle bags. “I don’t need them anyway, you can have them.”

The pegasus squints, distrust in her eyes. “You’re… givin’ these to me? Like, for free?”

“Yes? That’s what I said. They’re yours.” I hold them closer, urging her to take them.

“… Dumbass.” The pegasus snatches them up, and runs off, presumably to use them.

“You-! You fat fuckin’ Sardine! She was my paying customer!” The ghoul mare yells. “I should kick your fuckin’ ass!” She launches herself over the counter, slamming a hoof into my face. I fall backwards, feeling something in my gums crunch, and warm liquid rolling over my tongue. 

I scurry away, watching as the lab coat wearing ghoul ran for a weapon. “Whoa! Fuck!” I panicked as she pulled a cord on the weapon, trying to start it. Some kind of sword-shaped device, a chainsaw of sorts. She quickly lost steam as my little legs carried me as quickly as they could. I took a few turns, winding myself through the swirling streets. I stopped once I hit an area that was a little less populated. Huffing, panting, wheezing, I leaned on a fence post. Then, the coughing started again. It was hard to stand, between my lack of breath from my sprint, and the horrible, razor-sharp hacking. I slipped onto the ground, trying to cover my mouth with a hoof. I felt those loose bits in my mouth fall into my hoof. They were teeth. “Fuck… I need those.” Then, I realized blood was actively dripping from my mouth and nose. “Shit…”

Tossing my teeth onto the ground, I coughed a little more. I didn’t have anything that would fix this. Not right now. Sure, I have a stimpak or two, but this little inconvenience didn’t justify using it. I’d just have to suck it up. As far as I could tell, this place was clean. Checking my Pip-Buck confirmed my suspicions. Not even background radiation. Sighing, I turned my Pip-Buck off, and searched through my bag. I took the bottle of Sparkle-Cola, and slapped the cap off. Sure, I wanted to save it for a better time, but I needed to wash the copper out of my mouth, and I’m sure there’s plenty more in town. Knocking it back, I cleaned the blood taste from my mouth, smacking my tongue around my now sugar-slick teeth. Barely here an hour and I’ve already lost two teeth. What a joke.

After finishing my bottle of soda, I tucked the empty glass bottle back into my pack, and slipped the cap into my pouch. I felt good enough to stand again, and my throat wasn’t on fire anymore at least. Cleaning myself up a little bit, I continued walking through the strip-city. I had to find something, and soon. An irradiated puddle. A fucking X-Ray machine, I didn’t care. It’s all I could think about. Radiation. My mind had never been so clouded before. What the hell was wrong with me?? Not even hunger or thirst made me this one-track. I slapped a hoof against my head a few times out of frustration. I couldn’t even remember why I came here. Or where I was going. I was just aimlessly wandering, my vision slipping in and out of focus. And then, I heard a voice.

“You look like you need something to break that headache of yours… and no medicine-mare around here has the solution.” A smooth, aged voice. Feminine, and tempting, often how Aero described a good cider. I turned my head to see her, leaned up against and sitting on a fence. She had a teal coat, legs darkening as the fur got closer to her scarlet hooves, and a short, voluminous, wine red mane that also darkened towards the ends. She was a unicorn, with an odd, lightning bolt shaped horn that looked charred. She was draped in a black cloak, and wore a black stetson that seemed to have horns in the brim, lined with white. Her shadowed eyes locked onto me. She had a smug smirk, a yellowed snaggletooth peeking from her curled lips. Fluttering her narrow crimson eyes, she opened up her cloak. The first thing I noticed was the massive, webbed scarring, or stitching rather, on her belly. Dangling inside her cloak was a set of fusion cores. “I got what you need, honey…”

I recoiled, stepping back from this strange mare, eyes widened. How the hell did she know about this? Did I have some kind of wasteland mutation? There was a piece of this puzzle that I was missing. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” I furrowed my brows, poppin the buckle on my knife holster. This mare knew something about me that no pony else did. Either she was a friend, or a massive threat.

“Hmmm… suppose not.” She flashes her teeth with a grin, “Don’t be scared, honey…” she reaches a hoof forward, an offer for a shake, “I’m Willow Wayfarer. Might I ask your name?”

Squinting slightly, I carefully stepped forward, giving a cautious wrap of the hoof. “Yellowcake Cream. Why are you offering me fusion cores? Those are for generators. And Power Armor. And Gatling Lasers. Which I don’t have…”

“They sure are.” She plucks one with her black magic, like staring into the night sky. Flipping it around in her hoof, she locked eyes with me. “Sure you don’t need them?”

I hesitated. She wanted something. “I… no. No I don’t.”

“Ah, well, guess I better toss them. So odd that I have so much to sell, and yet ponies don’t know the value of a good fusion core…” She throws it off to her left side, away from the fence.

I dive onto my belly and catch it in my hooves before it hits the ground. I twist it at the top, cracking it open to get a look at the fusion mechanism inside. I pull the ribbed lid away from the yellow casing. Where a blue glow normally would be, there was nothing, the frame was broken. This was a hollow dud. “This is a fucking dud! Where’s the internal reactor?!” Picking myself up, I furrow my brows, rattling the empty core with my hoof as I turn back to her. “Is this a fucking scam?”

Willow chuckles. “Thought you said you didn’t need it?”

I choke on my words. Shit. I did say that, didn’t I? Unfortunately, I was acting purely on instinct right now, prone to saying things that would jeopardize my control in a situation like this. “Fine.” Sighing, I toss the empty core over my shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Your satisfaction.” She swiftly replies. “Give me that, and you can have whatever you want.”

I flicked my eyes behind her, realizing exactly what I stood outside of. A brothel. A whorehouse. A discolored brick building, covered in scorch marks, but relatively nice looking. It was pretty self explanatory, having a big, bold WHORES painted on the windows. Then, I looked back at her. “You need to get tested before I do anything.”

Letting out a hearty laugh, she shakes her head. “Oh, no, I don’t need that sort of satisfaction.” She gets off her post, slowly approaching, circling me like a vulture. “I just need emotional satisfaction. Euphoria. That feeling you get whenever you do something you love. Something that makes you feel good. That feeling of quenching a craving. I know you have cravings, Cake…” she pulls out the other fusion core, “and I know exactly what they are.”

“You just… want me to use this? Near you?” I was offput, but wasn’t terribly discouraged.

“Correct.” She holds it forward. Rattling it. Waiting. Rather impatiently, antsy to watch me. ”Go on then.”

Taking it from her hooves, I crack it open. The blue glow washes over me, and so does a massive hit of radiation. I shudder, a chill rushing up my spine as my fur stood on end. This close to the reaction, this rich of a hit, it was intoxicating. Better than any alcohol I’ve had, any dessert I’ve eaten. I couldn’t stop myself from holding it as close to myself as I could manage. So much energy, raw, unfiltered.

Willow’s eyes nearly bulged as her pupils contracted further, horn thrumming with magic. She started to sweat, giving a psychotic grin, biting her bottom lip. “What a potent source of magic you are…”

I tuned her out, simply continuing to suck the core dry. My body swelled with strength, my mind was crystal clear, and my vision was sharper than it had ever been before. The blue glow disappeared from the inside, and I dropped the drained core, my eyes nearly rolled back into my head. “Holy… shit. That was incredible, that was the cleanest flow of rads I’ve ever had access to…”

The odd, tall unicorn clapped her hooves together. “My goodness! You are such a dense source of energy.” She pulls me into a side hug, a foreleg wrapped around my collar, another hoof poking my chest. “You and I, love… we’ll make the best of friends.”

I felt my face rush with heat, she felt hot, like she had the flu. “Uh… right. Friends. I guess I need those now. Out here… speaking of which- have you seen um. A white pegasus around? I gave her my Rad-Away and got my teeth knocked out by some ghoul doctor.” I gently pull away from the strange mare. “I wanna see if she’s doing okay.”

“Oh. Nightdrive?” Willow scoffed, “The Raider Inventor? Works on commission? You think she’s your friend now?”

“Hopefully. I cured her rad sickness, after all.” I nodded. “Does that not mean something?”

“Pfft, I guess.” Willow scoffs, “If you wanna see her so bad, I’ll take you. Don’t knock on her door too hard.”

My face flexed with worry, “How hard is too hard?”

“You’ll find out.” She replies.

Following Willow through town, we eventually came upon an old shack, with an even older wooden door. It wasn’t decorated, so much as it was splotched with red paint. At least, that’s what I chose to believe it was. The front door was covered with lights. Red lights. Motion sensors, I thought, or something similar. Maybe indicators of mines. At this point, I had to swallow the anxiety and push forward. Holding up a hoof, I knocked on the door. Then, I heard something snap on the other side. “Wha-?” The door slid upwards in the middle, and a circular saw blade launched out at me. It narrowly avoided me, the blunt tip of my horn scraping the side, listening to it whirr as it soared over my head. Then, a loud thunk as it slammed into the dirt behind me. My jaw hung from my face, eyes unfocused.

“I told you not to knock so hard.” Willow chuckles.

The top door swivels in, the same mare from in front of the doctor’s stand appearing from the dark interior. “Who the fuck-? Oh! It’s you! Sorry I almost took your head off, hahaha.” She snorted, giving a sharp smile.

“I think I pissed on your porch.” I blurt out, feeling tears in my eyes. “Respectfully, that might be the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. Maybe. I’m not too sure at this point.

She peeks over the bottom door, “Oh,so you did. Ah, it’s fine.” She looks back up at me, as if nothing had happened, then, back down at my forelegs. “Is that-? Is that an actual Pip-Buck? Stable-Tec license and everything?”

“Y-uh, yes? Why?” Before I could ask anything else, the bottom door flung open, and she pulled me inside. “Oh-!” I could hear Willow wander in behind me, shutting the door and turning on the lights.

The strange white pegasus holds up my foreleg, inspecting it thoroughly. “Celestia’s four hooves! This is awesome!”

“Haha, um, it’s nice to meet you too? I’m Yellowcake Cream.” I smiled shakily, nervous about what she might do, now that she knew about the Pip-Buck.

“Oh! I’m Nightlight Overdrive. Nightdrive for short. Can I call ya Cake? I’m gonna call you that.” She drags me over to a computer, plugging me in. “Wow! This is the real thing!”

Unplugging myself, I back away. “Ahaha, yeah, it is. Anyway, I just wanted to see if you were doing alright after I gave you Rad-Away. Looks like you’re doing fine…” I rub my neck. “I should probably leave you be, y’know, seems like everypony here is kinda cranky, hahaaaa…”

“Where are you going?” Nightdrive asks.

“Uh… Whinnyapolis. Why?” I glanced around, getting a good look at the house. It was full of odd contraptions. Death traps, almost every single one of them. Like one wrong step in here would cut any pony in half.

Nightdrive’s face suddenly changes, and the mood in the room immediately shifts. “You’re not goin’ alone, are you?”

Looking back at Willow, she had a concerned expression, that name seemed to strike some kind of nerve. Then, I turned my attention back to Nightdrive. “I was told to by a Rusteater, name of Chocolate Pennyroyal. Or… Chopper.”

The white pegasus’ face drops, like I could physically see her heart slam into her belly like a defunct elevator. “The fucking Raider Prince?? Bullshit. There’s no way in hell you met him, face to face, and lived.”

“He… saved me, from Fiends.” I explain.

Nightdrive and Willow look at one another, and at once, a single thought passes between them. The pegasus grabs a saddlebag, rooting through it. “I… can’t go with you. Especially not to Whinnyapolis. Fuck that place. It’s an absolute hellhole. But I can give you something that’ll help. And also a piece of advice for your route.”

“I’m going with you though.” Willow interjects.

“Wh-? Seriously?” I snap my head back to the unicorn, my brows creating a dark fold on my forehead.

“Cake, I watched you huff the radiation out of a fusion core like gasoline fumes. I’m coming with you.” Willow comments. “If you’ve got something like that going for you, there’s gotta be other talents you have that I’ve yet to see. Plus, you… seem sweet.” She hesitates for a moment between her words. Oddly, she hasn’t done that until now.

Looking down at the floor for a moment, I nodded a little bit. I didn’t expect to be leaving this place with company, especially not with somepony like Willow. “Alright. What’s your tip?”

Pulling something out from her bag, she shows it off to me. A small device in a leather pouch, a single dial and light on the top. “Stealth-Buck. Made it for a Fiend who paid me out the nose in gold teeth. She hasn’t swung by to pick it up, so, it’s yours. It draws on magical output for power, turns you invisible when you twist the dial.” She lets out a snicker. “She liked getting up close with her shotgun. Real personal.”

A shiver strikes my spine like a lightning bolt. There’s no way she was talking about the same Fiend I was thinking of. “This Fiend. Was she a unicorn? Fiery orange magic? Black spiky armor?”

“Actually, yes!” She enthusiastically replies. Then, her mood shifts. “Wait, have you seen her?”

Sighing, I showed off my flank, which was now completely healed. Shocking even me. There was very little scarring, you could barely even tell. “Hmmm… my wounds were more obvious before. Let’s just say I had a pretty up close encounter with her. One she personally lost. Thanks to Chopper.”

“No shit…” she hoofs over the Stealth-Buck, “so this rightfully is yours. Good luck, Cake. There’s a shortcut between here and Whinnyapolis. A creek, called The Blackwater.” She holds up a hoof, pointing at me, “Watch out, though. There’s a clan of Raiders in that territory.”

“Moirai.” Willow inserts herself, stepping in. “Darkness-worshipping cultists. Hopefully we don’t get caught up in their business.”

PREVIOUS | FIRST | NEXT

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Shadows Over the Wastes: Chapter Zero

It was still dark out, the first day of winter was always the darkest. At least it had been ever since I was a foal. I looked over various genetic sequences my lab partners and I had rolled out this past week. The war’s been going on too long, and we were worried it’d stop being so cautious. Fiddling with the pen in my lips, I leaned my head down, circling a few problems I saw in the code.

Too susceptible to violence. Addictive personality predisposition. Too much room for genetic faults and malformations. Unstable interactions with the mutative serum. Problem after problem. But, it was usable. Way better than what we had before. Only a dozen or so issues now. As opposed to the hundreds or thousands from before. Cloning and genetic modification being used in tandem was risky, but including biometric and technological integration was slowly lowering the maladaptive factors. Twilight had a point. Magic and technology had to be used together. Especially in this scenario.

“Pa?” I heard my daughter’s voice from the doorway of my office. Looking in the reflection of the darkened window in front of me, I saw her. A pudgy little unicorn, my dearest little filly. She had a golden coat, like me, and a cobalt blue mane, like her Momma. It had a green stripe through it, the same color as her eyes. Nine years old, a plush kirin stuffed into her maroon pajamas’ collar. The same one she’s had since she was two.

Looking back, I took the pen from my mouth with my hooves, setting it on the desk. Then, pushing back my golden mane, I sighed. “What’re y’doin’ up so darn early, sugarcube?” Being Appleoosan, my accent was a lot stronger than hers. She still had a bit of a twang, but since she grew up here in Canterlot, it was rather negligible.

“I can’t sleep… havin’ nightmares.” She rubs one of her eyes, looking sad.

I sighed, rubbing my haunches. “Ahright sweetheart. How’bout you ‘n Ah go an’ sit on the couch? Watch some cartoons? Y’seem a lil’ upset…”

“Can I have some cinnamon applesauce?” She nods a little.

Letting out a chuckle, I slid down from my seat, walking over and giving her a gentle pet on the head. “Course, honeybun. Y’can have whatever y’like.” Carefully scooping her up, I let her rest on my back, slowly making my way to the kitchen. My house was pretty sizable, considering it was meant for three of us, but it was just Minnie and I now. It was definitely fancy. Way fancier than anything my parents ever dreamed they could own. On a crest overlooking the city, with large windows and beautiful hardwood floors. Expensive carpets, marble countertops, and pricey furniture. The whole nine yards. Going to the fancy new icebox, I opened it up, pulling out a half-empty jar of applesauce. Setting it on the counter, grabbing a bowl and spoon, and screwing off the top, I poured in plenty for her. She stayed curled up on my back, resting her head against the back of mine.

I walked over to the couch, sitting down with her. She nested herself into my lap, staying as close as she could. I gently ran a hoof over her head as she used her blue magic to scoop applesauce into her mouth with the spoon. “What were you workin’ on, Pa?”

“Just some lab work, sweetie. Don’ worry yerself none with it. Too… stressful fer a sweet little filly like you.” I turned on the TV, flipping to whatever channel had cartoons on at the time. However, almost as soon as I did, I heard the phone ring on the wall. Grumbling, I shook my head, slowly getting up. “Ah’m gonna take this call, ahright lovebug? Ah’ll be back soon as Ah can be.” Getting up, I gave Minnie a peck on one of her cheeks, making my way over to the phone. Standing on my hind legs, I leaned on the wall, putting the phone to my ear and crossing my other foreleg across my chest. “Who is this? Why’re y’all callin’ me so darn early in the mornin’?”

“Tex?” It was my coworker Rum Cherry Raze. A kirin. I recognized her voice anywhere. “Where are you right now?”

“Ah’m home wit Marsh. Why?” I replied.

“Get Minnie and get over here now.” Rum continued.

Scoffing, I shook my head, “Y’gonna say why or are ya just gonna be all mysterious about it?”

Then, suddenly I heard Minnie’s voice from around the corner, back in the living room. “Papa! The first sun of winter! Look!”

Checking the time, I realized it was still thirty minutes before the sun should even create the slightest light in the sky. Feeling my heart drop to my stomach, I spoke into the phone. “I’ll call you back, Rum.”

“No! Tex you need to-!” I hung up, making my way over to Minnie, who stood in front of the window facing the city.

She stood in sheer horror, watching as a blinding light pierced the night sky. Green energy suddenly fills the horizon, forming into a vicious orb, pluming into a mushroom cloud. “That’s… not the sun…”

I felt every fiber of my being screaming with fear. My ears folded back against my head as the whole world fell silent. Running over and scooping Minnie up, I threw her onto my back, sprinting straight for the door. She was yelling, but I couldn’t hear what. Terror possessed every nerve in my body. I had to get her to safety. No matter the cost. This was the end of Equestria as I had known it. This was armageddon. This was the beginning of a long, and terrible storm.

NEXT

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Shadows Over the Wastes: Chapter Six

It had been a few days since Chopper found me. He was odd, but he was helpful. He was strong, fierce, and surprisingly intelligent. Maybe not quite as smart as his vocabulary let on, but he was clever in a way that was hard to describe. He had a lot of things I lacked. A spine, for one. He sewed up my flank. It wasn’t pretty, a few bits of flesh were missing, so my cutie mark is all broken up, but it’s good enough. The gash on my neck was healing up well enough, it was small, but it would still leave a pretty noticeable scar. Not even a week out and I was already injured. It was hard sleeping near him though. I always felt like he’d end up the same way as Swiss. Only, this time, I wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not even if I got lucky. Even as passive as he was, I always kept him at leg’s length. I couldn’t cease that sinking suspicion. Something deep in my mind festered with that paranoia.

I was in a lake, washing myself off, the blood and skull bits sticking into my mane were driving me mad. Not only that, but the dirt I’d collected on the road. Chopper sat on the shore, away from me, choosing to give me privacy. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking…” I began, calling for his attention, “you never explained what the whole Rusteater MO is.”

“I don’t plan on it. Need to know basis.” He staunchly, unflinchingly replies. “And as far as I’m concerned, you don’t.”

“How am I supposed to be anything but dead weight if you won’t answer any of my questions? Celestia’s sake, we’ve been slogging on the road for three days and all I know is your name!” I sighed, running my hooves over my mane, scooping water to wash myself down. The water ran red and black as it pooled off me. Dirt, oil, and blood.

The stallion snorts like a bull, shaking his head. “Those Fiends you encountered. They’re cannibalistic Raiders. They raze villages and eat the stragglers.”

“Yeah, you established that.” I snapped back, scoffing.

He takes a deep breath, hesitating to continue. “Rusteaters are pretty much the same. Save for the eating ponies part. We wipe out or enslave anypony we can manage. Then we strip their villages for parts to make weapons and armor.” He looks over his shoulder just enough so I could see one of his eyes, but he couldn’t see me. “We sell those ponies we capture for anything we can get. Or we keep a few healthy ones for breed-stock.”

My heart sunk into the pit of my stomach, my intestines twisting. Sickened by his words. “Am… am I breed-stock?”

“Generally speaking? Probably. I mean, you’re more than a healthy weight. Even if you’re a little short, you have desirable genetics. Plumpness is a very valuable trait out here.” He explains, “Hell, if you did get captured for breed-stock, you’d have one fatass price tag. And whatever bidder you went to would probably treat you at least half decent. They’d have to, to afford you.” Shrugging, he then shakes his head, “But right now? No, I didn’t capture you. I’d never subject you to that. Not as long as I was alive.” He lets out an exhausted sigh.

Letting out a sharp exhale through my nose, I cleaned my wounds. “Why are you being nice? What makes you different from the other Rusteaters?”

“They’re fucking dullards. Every single one of them. Please, I almost ripped my mane out being sent with my squad; Blockhead, Bonehead, and Pinhead. They’re ignorant. Psychopathic.” Kinda rich, considering I saw how he dealt with any hostiles on the road. “They tear everything down time and time again. It’s… cruel, and unsustainable.” Chopper laughs a little to himself. “Bunch of mud-munching, junk-scraping, illiterate, lead-skulled know-nothings.”

I chuckled at his description. “Wow, you’re pretty eloquent for a wastelander.”

“I get it from my mum. She was the sassiest mare I’ve ever known.” He inspects his rifle. “Everypony thought my dad was in charge, but no, she had him by the balls. Literally. Her intelligence was unrivaled. She was a Steel Ranger, and she wasn’t about to raise a half-wit.”

“So uh…” I slowly pulled myself from the lake, sitting on a rock to let my coat and mane dry. “What’s the plan for you then?”

He sighs, running his hooves over his rifle. “I cut you loose before I get too close to home. Considering we’re-“ he stops, and his ears shoot up to attention. “Hide.”

“Why?” My ears swivel around, and I listen out for whatever freaked him out.

“I said hide!” He growls, looking over at me, before he retreats into a small alcove under the rocks.

“Fuck…” I mutter, looking around. Then I realized. The water might have been clean, but it was difficult to see through. The setting sun reflecting off the surface made sure of that. So back in I went, as carefully and quickly as I could manage. Taking a deep breath, I laid on my back under the surface. I watched, eyes open, looking up to see if anypony approached. And something did.

Fizzling into existence, coming out of some kind of cloaking device, was an unnaturally massive earth pony mare, I think. Her  coat had fallen out completely, as well as her mane, if she even had either of them. What was left exposed was sickly blue flesh, a mutation of some kind, that allowed me to see hoof-thick layers of rippling muscle. Her lips were peeled back with some kind of sling, hooks keeping the flesh back, making sure her massive, yellow teeth were on display. Her eyes were bloodshot, with a deep-seated aggression within. She wore armor made from pieces of military vehicles, a massive weapon with a rotary chain-blade hanging on her side.

I could feel her growling cause ripples on the water’s surface, further shrouding not only mine, but her own image in distortion. She leaned down, loudly sniffing, her massive nostrils flaring. Then, I heard someone say something, and she barked something in reply, hurriedly making her way away from the edge of the lake. I could feel myself becoming lightheaded, on the verge of jumping up for air, but I had to give it a few more seconds. I counted out 15 seconds, then pushed my snout up through the surface of the water, and took a breath as quietly as I could. Rolling over, I slowly peeked up, looking around. Nopony. They seemed to be gone. “Chopper?” I whispered, “Chopper, are they gone?”

He slowly comes out of the alcove, crawling on his belly with his rifle. He looks around, “No glimmering… they’re gone.”

“Glimmering?” I glanced over.

He nods, “Nightkin. They’re super mutants. They have the ability to shroud themselves and become invisible whenever they please.” Standing up, he slings his gun over his back. “The only way you can see them before they see you is by seeing if the area around you has any uh… what’s the word? A ‘shimmer’ so to speak, shaped like them.” He points at me, “Good job, hiding in the water was really clever, I’ll have to use that sometime.”

Shaking myself off to dry, I go back over to the rock that had my clothes. “Surprised they didn’t see this and look around.”

“They probably figured you were dead.” He chuckles, “I don’t really blame them. Any number of things in the water could’ve gotten you.”

My head whipped over to him as I zipped up my Stable suit. “I’m sorry, what? There are things in the water that could’ve killed me?? And you neglected to say that until now?”

“Well, I did say there are things everywhere that can kill you.” He sighs, looking over at me. “Everywhere includes lakes, mountains, forests, deserts, roads, other Stables, towns, and cities. Oh, and the ocean. The ocean is terrifying.”

Rubbing my cheek with a hoof, I shook my head. “Fuck’s sake… is there anything out here that won’t try to kill me?”

“Actually, yes, Sprite-Bots. Don’t kill them, they’re nice. And usually Assaultrons in towns and settlements. Protectrons too.” He begins to root through his bag. “Like I said, I’m sending you on your way. I can’t keep you around. Especially not if I just saw Nightkin come from the direction of home…” He groans. “Anyway.” Dumping out some things onto the ground, he waves a hoof to them. “Take these.”

Approaching, I scooped up some of the items. Two bottles of Sparkle-Cola. A package of “Mint-Als”, featuring a cartoon zebra on the casing. Eight loose revolver cartridges, and a mouth-hold revolver with a five shot cylinder. One stimpak. Three bottles of medicine labeled “RAD-X” and an IV bag labeled “RAD-AWAY”. I took everything except the radiation meds, putting the cola, mints, stimpak, and ammo in my saddle bags. Tucking the revolver into my waistband, I looked up at Chopper. “Is now a bad time to mention that I don’t know how to use a gun?”

“It absolutely is. Why didn’t you take the rad meds??” He picks them up, offering them again.

“I don’t need them.” I replied.

“Y-what?? Yes you do?! Are you insane?!” He laughs slightly. “You’ll get fried out there without rad protection.”

Rolling my eyes, I snatched them up with my magic, stuffing them into my bag. “Fine.”

Letting out a heavy groan, he pulls something else out from his bag. “You’ll also need these.” He offers a small pouch, and a strange medallion. “Caps, and a… means of insurance.”

“What are these for?” I took them, raising a brow.

“Caps are for buying shit. That little bit-shaped thing? It’s technically the reason I found you. I stamped some Rusteater flair on it though. Flash it and ponies will know you have protection. Maybe not my clan, but mine is enough. Trust.” He pats me on the shoulder, and I flinch a little, backing away. “Keep up the maintenance on those wounds.” Pulling his helmet from his flank, he fits it on over his head, pointing a hoof at me. “Don’t die! If you do, I’ll… I’ll be pretty damn upset about it. You have potential. Head south, to Foaledo, hit that place up for some supplies and maybe even some help. Then, from there, you’re gonna want to head northwest towards Big McIntosh Bridge, you’ll see Bales on the way. Once you’re over the bridge, head back southwest, and that’ll take you straight to Whinnyapolis, just south of where Cloudsdale used to be.” He draws the whole route out in the soil, making sure I watch.

“Damn…” I recoiled, “you’re… a really apt navigator.”

He shrugs, “When you wanna be anywhere but home, you learn the roads well.” Clearing his throat, he gently places a hoof on my shoulder, leaning forward. “Good luck, Yellowcake. I hope I’ll see you sometime soon.” Those words were honest. Rife with something other than hesitation to leave. Backing away, he turns his back to me. “See ya some other time, Sardine.”

Looking down at the medallion in my hoof, I took a deep breath. I’d be on my own for a little while. A day or two, til I made it to some sort of civilized town. I didn’t know anything about this place, and the longer I dawdled, the longer I’d be exposing myself to the dangers out here. I slipped the medallion into my Stable suit, glancing at the descending sun. I was burning precious sun-lit hours. I had to find somewhere to hunker down for the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I headed south, making as much headway as I could manage. Unfortunately, my less-than average leg length made that quite a rockhoofean task. However, I managed to find something. A monitor station at a railroad crossing. It was small. More or less just a concrete box with a door, window, and computer console. Bucking the door open, after three or four tries, I made my way in, sweaty and huffing. “Fuck’s sake…” I muttered, closing the door again, and locking it with a small metal rod on the ground within. The window was broken, replaced with old drapes, tattered cloth that hung down from rusted bolts. There was a chair, beat up, and aged beyond all belief. I pressed down on it, checking it. Then, almost as soon as I did, a spike shot up through the cushion of the chair. One that would’ve impaled me straight through the ass, and scrambled my intestines. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head, and I sigh. “Well, that answers that question.”

I tried to make myself comfortable on the floor, sweeping away some of the broken glass. Laying down, I pulled the gun from my waistband, keeping it as close as I could. Celestia forbid I get snuck up on again, maybe they’d think twice. Maybe. I didn’t know. I couldn’t know. But that was a problem for me later. Right now, I just wanted to sleep. I was exhausted. And tomorrow would be the same. I felt my face sour, my lower lip quivering. Crying until I pass out isn’t exactly a good first step into being a wasteland pony. Who cares? Maybe I’ll be dead before morning.

PREVIOUS | FIRST | NEXT

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Shadows Over the Wastes: Chapter Zero

It was still dark out, the first day of winter was always the darkest. At least it had been ever since I was a foal. I looked over various genetic sequences my lab partners and I had rolled out this past week. The war’s been going on too long, and we were worried it’d stop being so cautious. Fiddling with the pen in my lips, I leaned my head down, circling a few problems I saw in the code.

Too susceptible to violence. Addictive personality predisposition. Too much room for genetic faults and malformations. Unstable interactions with the mutative serum. Problem after problem. But, it was usable. Way better than what we had before. Only a dozen or so issues now. As opposed to the hundreds or thousands from before. Cloning and genetic modification being used in tandem was risky, but including biometric and technological integration was slowly lowering the maladaptive factors. Twilight had a point. Magic and technology had to be used together. Especially in this scenario.

“Pa?” I heard my daughter’s voice from the doorway of my office. Looking in the reflection of the darkened window in front of me, I saw her. A pudgy little unicorn, my dearest little filly. She had a golden coat, like me, and a cobalt blue mane, like her Momma. It had a green stripe through it, the same color as her eyes. Nine years old, a plush kirin stuffed into her maroon pajamas’ collar. The same one she’s had since she was two.

Looking back, I took the pen from my mouth with my hooves, setting it on the desk. Then, pushing back my golden mane, I sighed. “What’re y’doin’ up so darn early, sugarcube?” Being Appleoosan, my accent was a lot stronger than hers. She still had a bit of a twang, but since she grew up here in Canterlot, it was rather negligible.

“I can’t sleep… havin’ nightmares.” She rubs one of her eyes, looking sad.

I sighed, rubbing my haunches. “Ahright sweetheart. How’bout you ‘n Ah go an’ sit on the couch? Watch some cartoons? Y’seem a lil’ upset…”

“Can I have some cinnamon applesauce?” She nods a little.

Letting out a chuckle, I slid down from my seat, walking over and giving her a gentle pet on the head. “Course, honeybun. Y’can have whatever y’like.” Carefully scooping her up, I let her rest on my back, slowly making my way to the kitchen. My house was pretty sizable, considering it was meant for three of us, but it was just Minnie and I now. It was definitely fancy. Way fancier than anything my parents ever dreamed they could own. On a crest overlooking the city, with large windows and beautiful hardwood floors. Expensive carpets, marble countertops, and pricey furniture. The whole nine yards. Going to the fancy new icebox, I opened it up, pulling out a half-empty jar of applesauce. Setting it on the counter, grabbing a bowl and spoon, and screwing off the top, I poured in plenty for her. She stayed curled up on my back, resting her head against the back of mine.

I walked over to the couch, sitting down with her. She nested herself into my lap, staying as close as she could. I gently ran a hoof over her head as she used her blue magic to scoop applesauce into her mouth with the spoon. “What were you workin’ on, Pa?”

“Just some lab work, sweetie. Don’ worry yerself none with it. Too… stressful fer a sweet little filly like you.” I turned on the TV, flipping to whatever channel had cartoons on at the time. However, almost as soon as I did, I heard the phone ring on the wall. Grumbling, I shook my head, slowly getting up. “Ah’m gonna take this call, ahright lovebug? Ah’ll be back soon as Ah can be.” Getting up, I gave Minnie a peck on one of her cheeks, making my way over to the phone. Standing on my hind legs, I leaned on the wall, putting the phone to my ear and crossing my other foreleg across my chest. “Who is this? Why’re y’all callin’ me so darn early in the mornin’?”

“Tex?” It was my coworker Rum Cherry Raze. A kirin. I recognized her voice anywhere. “Where are you right now?”

“Ah’m home wit Marsh. Why?” I replied.

“Get Minnie and get over here now.” Rum continued.

Scoffing, I shook my head, “Y’gonna say why or are ya just gonna be all mysterious about it?”

Then, suddenly I heard Minnie’s voice from around the corner, back in the living room. “Papa! The first sun of winter! Look!”

Checking the time, I realized it was still thirty minutes before the sun should even create the slightest light in the sky. Feeling my heart drop to my stomach, I spoke into the phone. “I’ll call you back, Rum.”

“No! Tex you need to-!” I hung up, making my way over to Minnie, who stood in front of the window facing the city.

She stood in sheer horror, watching as a blinding light pierced the night sky. Green energy suddenly fills the horizon, forming into a vicious orb, pluming into a mushroom cloud. “That’s… not the sun…”

I felt every fiber of my being screaming with fear. My ears folded back against my head as the whole world fell silent. Running over and scooping Minnie up, I threw her onto my back, sprinting straight for the door. She was yelling, but I couldn’t hear what. Terror possessed every nerve in my body. I had to get her to safety. No matter the cost. This was the end of Equestria as I had known it. This was armageddon. This was the beginning of a long, and terrible storm.

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[shadows-over-the-wastes]

The humming of a dim ceiling light, the shadows dancing and wobbling as the sole reply to the mind numbing silence. I saw movement where there was none. Heard voices where none could be. My head hung low, my red and pink mane covering most of my field of vision. I couldn’t be bothered to flick my head back to fix it. I was contained in a contraption specifically designed to house me. Rivets, eight of them driven straight into my ribcage, securing an exterior set of claws that kept me from thrashing about. The external ridges of my false spine were locked in place using a control plug, rooted into a hole just above the dock of my tail. A set of tubes plugged into my exhaust ports, where my wings were meant to be mounted, circulated a sedative through my system. 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The vertically inclined examination table I was attached to like a trophy had a pair of massive, mantis-like arms that hung over me. Punishment for misbehavior. Even with the sockets of my forelegs hoisted up using a set of chains, and my own body serving as my prison, I was still deemed a threat.

A single scientist entered the room with me. A pegasus, using his wings to hold a clipboard and pen in front of him. “Alright then. Miss Cardinal Rime. That is your name, right?” I muttered in reply, slurring what little words I could manage. “Ah right, my colleagues warned me about your containment measures.” Folding a wing behind, he reaches into a lab coat pocket, withdrawing a small remote. Pressing on the center, the flow of the sedative slowed, allowing me to wake up a little. “There. Can you confirm that you are, in fact, Miss Cardinal Rime?”

Gritting my teeth, I scowled, my eyes locked on the stallion before me. “Ah ain’t a ‘miss’. ‘Miss’ is fer business mares n’ authority.”

“Wow, of all things I was informed of, such a rich Appleoosan accent was not one of them.” He noted a few things on his clipboard. “How are you feeling this morning? As I’ve been informed, this is your tenth year inside this cell. I can tell it’s having a very strong psychological effect on you. Judging from your facial features alone.”

The left side of my snout twitched. This bastard was clearly new to this whole procedure. Maybe I could use that to my advantage. “Sluggish. Hungry. Fiendin’ fer a fuckin’ smoke. And… trust me. It ain’t the cell makin’ me look like this.”

The pegasus nods, “Fascinating.” Then, approaching at a careful angle, he gives a physical examination. I try my damndest to cooperate. Maybe if I’m nice, I can get him to do what I want. I can get him close enough to twist his fucking head off. “It’s my understanding that my fellow researchers aren’t… complying with most of your dietary needs.”

I let out a dry chuckle, “Nah, them motherfuckers don’t give a shit about givin’ me no proper fix. They ain’t gonna gimme what Ah need. Cause it’s brutal, and ‘against their ways’. Which… civilized as they pretend t’be, is fair enough.”

“Ah! Although logical… that seems… unfair. Judging from your attitude, it seems that the imbalanced internal biome is having the side effect of subject resentment. I apologize, Miss Rime.” He stutters a moment, quickly correcting himself, “Sorry. Cardinal. Is that better?”

He wasn’t just taking my measurements. He was trying to be nice. Why? Doesn’t he know who I am? What I’ve done? “Right. Sure. Ah’m gonna ask ya a question, doc-“

“Oh, please, I’m no doctor.” He chuckles, writing a few things on his clipboard. “But yes, ask me anything.”

“What the hell is yer game? Y’waltz in here like ya fuckin’ own the place, and talk t’me like y’know me.” I squinted.

He nods, “I know very well who you are. I am also the only one they could ever force to get this close to you, because I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of The Redline.” He gets closer. So close that I could feel his breath on my greasy coat. “I also know that you’re not as bad as they say. Sure. You have your vices. You have cannibalistic tendencies, but…” He presses a hoof against the base of my throat. I lurched forward a little, feeling myself start to drool. “I know you’re a good pony when it matters. You remember… about twelve years ago. You came to a little town called Foaledo.”

My eyes widened, “That town that got assaulted by Gorehawks.”

“Uh huh.” He nods, “I was there. I lived there as a colt. And I saw what you did. A glorious red massacre. You came upon us like a gore-painted angel. Like I said. You’re a good pony when it matters. So… in return for giving me the chance to live my life, I’m going to help you. It’s… a small favor in comparison, cause I know you would’ve gotten out of here even if I hadn’t decided to help. But. I heard they were keeping you here, and knew I wanted to be there to see it.”

I felt my heart slowly come to a normal rate. The plan I had to escape using this young stallion, I didn’t even need to enact it. He came here for me. Why? I mean I know why but, why? “Y’got a name?”

“Tanner. Tin Tanner.” He pulls the remote from his pocket. “Just give me the go ahead, and we get out of here.”

Groaning, I look down at the floor for a moment. “Where’s mah prosthetics?”

Opening his coat, he reveals my long, chrome horn strapped to his bodysuit. “Your hooves and wings are in the holding lab. They’ve been studying them, but still can’t figure out how they work. They’re trying to reproduce them for Knight augments I think.” Tanner steps back, unfolding the odd remote that he has, allowing access to a greater variety of switches. “You ready? It's a shift change, so the lab’s at its emptiest right now. We just gotta get to the lab without triggering an alarm.”

“Lemme loose.” I gave him a glare, “An’ stay low. Ah’m hungry, and Ah don’t want ya gettin’ caught in the frenzy that comes with it.” I feel my dry lips peel back, barely able to contain my joy as I give a wide grin.

Pressing a few switches on the controls, the rivets in my ribs unscrew, blood spraying as they’re unlatched from my bones. The cage flowers open, and the plug releases from my spine, tubes spraying sedative as they hiss and disconnect. The chains rooted in my foreleg sockets disengage, leaving me with no support. I fall straight onto my face, feeling my bones rattle together as I hit the cold concrete. “Careful. Muscle atrophy, combined with the anaesthetic properties of the sedative might make you feel lethargic and unbalanced.” He moves forward, helping me up, mostly giving me something to lean on.

As I leaned against him, he gently raised the long, polished horn to the plate affixed to my head. He placed it in the socket, the solid metal ornament whirring as it rapidly screwed itself into place. “Where’s the security room?” Saliva rolled down my chin, I was so close to finally getting what I needed.

“Down the hall, on the left. Why?” He asked, but before he was given any explanation, I bolted down the hallway, drool smearing across my face as I could smell the fresh meat awaiting me. My hooves slapping against the concrete floors must have alerted the stallion in the security room, who came out to investigate. He wore a uniform that had a grayscale digital camouflage pattern, and a flat cap that kept his mid-length mane tucked.

Glancing over, his eyes locking with mine. “Oh fuck.” His heart visibly dropped into his stomach, color drained from his face. He knew exactly what was about to happen.

I leapt forward, springing on my hind two legs. Manipulating my momentum, I wrapped my haunches around his body. With a quick spin, I threw him down. He grunted as our mass collided on the floor, about to let out a scream from the shock and pain. With a lightning-quick thrust, I slam my forehead on his skull. A sickening crunch echoes through the room as I crack his cranium like an egg, my chrome horn speared through his head. Cackling, I reeled back, pulling his skull apart, practically unhinging my jaw, before I snapped downwards, sinking my fangs into his meat. Ten years since my last proper meal. My last indulgence. And by Celestia’s light and grace, was it like getting to experience the first time all over again. The metal plates on my spine shifted, spinning up a pair of internal turbines. Heat spread through my artificial skeleton like hot iron rods beneath my flesh. I felt my inner workings whirr as I sucked down his juicy muscle fibers like a feral vampire, blood spraying on the ceiling as it circulated through the vents above my wing ports. It rained down on me, soaking into my coat and skin. Rejuvenating.

Pulling my lips away from his saccharine flesh, I ran my tongue over my teeth, huffing. “Whew… who knew y’all Steel Rangers was so appetizing…” My spine clicked a few times again as I stood up once more on my hind legs, starting to calmly walk down the halls of the base. I stunk of copper and meat, just a few things missing, and I was basically back to normal. The lab wasn’t far, and was almost completely unguarded. What a shame. Slamming one of my hind hooves into the glass plate door, it cracked and whipped open, shattering against the wall as it flung aside on its hinges.

All of the lab ponies flinched, gasping and turning around to see me standing in the doorway. A Steel Ranger stepped forward, a unicorn, holding a laser rifle. He aimed at me, but didn’t fire. I could see the gun rattling in his grip. He was stricken with fear. “Don’t… don’t take another step!” He stuttered.

“Oh, please. What are ya gonna do wit that pathetic lil’ thing?” I laughed, leaning forward, slowly encroaching. “Now… hoof over mah wings and hooves, or Ah’ll kill every last one o’ ya.” I snapped my teeth at the lab workers.

There is a moment of delay. The lab workers all exchange voluntary glances. Without another word, a mare scurries over to a large metal case, starting to drag it to me. The officer’s face twists into an expression of confusion. “What the hell are you doing??” He barks.

“Making sure I don’t die,” she growls back, “dumbass!” Then, she continues dragging the box, stopping it in front of me. Opening it up, she scoops her hooves under a single cybernetic leg, starting to lock it into its rightful socket.

As she did, the multi-faceted frame extended, the silicon joints whirring. I couldn’t help but smile. “Thank ya kindly, lil filly.” I reach down into the box, drawing robotic claws to clamp around my other leg. Slapping it into the joint, it hisses as it connects, and I feel all my nerves light up. “Ah, Celestia! That feels leagues better already!”

“Alright… I got you what you want. Are…are we good to go?” The little mare scientist asks.

“Hmmm…” once I feel my legs click a few times, ensuring they’re calibrated, I reach down, grabbing a chrome wing. Latching it into the port on my back, I take a gander around the room. I watch the scientists as I insert the other, my wings clicking and rattling contently. I stand normally, on four hooves once more, my spine readjusting. Raising my right forehoof, I point at the little scientist. “Eenie.” I begin, starting to gesture at the others, “meenie minie moe. Catch a timberwolf by ‘is toe.” I point out all the scientists. “Giiiiiiit out! Yer lucky Ah’m bein’ nice.” Watching as they all rush out, I turn my attention to the guard. “Now… you. Ring yer buddies.”

The ranger’s brows furrow. “What?”

“Ya heard me.” I replied. “Call ‘em.”

“I… don’t think I will.” He begins to back away.

I let out a deep sigh, my metal wings popping out, making a loud spring noise as they do so. “Y’ain’t much fun at parties are ya?” There is a flash, a glimmer of silver light as my left wing fully extends and retracts in a fraction of a second. “Shame.” Sparks spray from slivers in the computers in the room, beakers spilling solution as they lose their upper halves. A clean laser-precise cut, destroying the equipment and technology around me. The steel ranger’s eyes blankly stare at me, before a line forms around his neck, blood pouring down his chest. Then, his head slumps off his shoulders, and his body crumples down onto the ground.

“What a waste.” I spit, holding up a hoof, the center pad of the hoof opening up, with a rod poking out from the exposed innard. Pointing it outward, flame jets from my hoof, swathing the entire room in a red blaze, destroying anything I missed with my wings. Then, as the glowing barrel ceases its spew, I hold it up in front of my snout, blowing smoke out of the end. My hoof reforms, and I slowly saunter my way towards the entrance of the laboratory.

The alarms in the facility blared through the corridors, alerting everypony to my presence. Smirking, I stroll over to a pair of chemical cabinets. Sorted by flammables, acids, bases. Tons and tons of them. Flicking out what I didn’t need and letting it shatter on the floor, I took the few I did need, as well as a few medical huffers they kept. Sitting in the middle of the hallway, I sort the chemicals into their spots, being meticulous about it. I never wanted to mess this up. Sure, huffing mustard gas wouldn’t kill me, but it would hurt, and it wouldn’t give me the high I wanted. Not that I could even make that with what I had. Mixing chemicals together and filling my inhalers with them, I put all of them, save for one, back into my storage unit. A tiny compartment in my foreleg. Picking up the last, I let it hang from my lips, casually making my way for the exit. Hoping, no, praying there would be somepony for me to kill in the way of the door.

As I made it to the front of the bunker, I saw it. A gathering of Rangers. Armored and unarmored. There were seven stallions in power armor. The rest, wielding laser weaponry, sitting behind makeshift cover and barricades. One of the knights stepped forward. “This will be your first and only warning, Redline. Take another step, and we will dispatch you. Permanently.”

“Oh, poor lil’ Knight. You know as well as Ah do, that ain’t gonna happen.” I smirk, still clenching the inhalant in my teeth. “Y’all’ve caught me in a charitable mood, though. Just had a decent enough meal. Ah’m gonna give you one chance t’make about face. Do that, and y’live. Choose not to, and Ah’m gonna rip all o’ y’all in half. Plain n simple.” I chew on the mouth bit of my inhaler for a moment, watching as they all tense up and switch their weapons off safe. “Well. Ah gave y’all a chance. Can’t say Ah didn’t warn ya.” I bite down on the mouthpiece of the inhaler, and feel it trigger. The internals click, and a stream of aerated chemicals are shot directly into my system. They taste vaguely of formaldehyde and rubbing alcohol. As soon as it rockets into my lungs, I feel a cold wash over them, before it finally absorbs into my bloodstream. I tilt my head back, 10 years of sobriety bursting open like a fucking dam. As good as my first high, I could almost swear it. For half a second, my whole body was calmed. Then came the rush.

My nerves felt like they were on fire, colors and details sharpening, and suddenly that drive to taste Ranger flesh was stronger than ever. One of the backliners lowered his gun, “Somepony call Cael! Get the fucking syringer!”

Spreading my wings and howling, I spat drool from my mouth like a rabid animal. “Finally… Ah can think again.” I let out a wheezy cackle, before charging forward, huffing through clenched teeth. The power armored knights didn’t hesitate at all to open fire, flooding the hallway with gatling laser shots from their battle saddles. Beginning to fly, I expertly twirled through their stream of projectiles, making angular shifts in my pitch and yaw. Then, I opened my right hoof, the flamer barrel protruding from the bottom. I stabbed it into the first knight I encountered, right through the gap in his armor between the helmet and neck brace. He recoiled, blood leaking through his armor. But that wasn’t enough for me. I triggered the flamer, grinning. His entire body was flooded with a hellfire, making the stallion scream in pain. Flames shot out of the nooks and crannies of his armor as he was burnt to a crisp, collapsing on the floor in a hunk of half-melted metal. Twirling away from him, my wings slice into the stallion beside me, my razor-tipped metal feathers turning his power armor into little more than steel sushi.

As the others try and blast me with their weapons, I fan my wings out, covering myself with them like a shield, and begin to spin. Red flames swirl around my wings, the ports blasting a dark blaze to create a magical barrier. I listen as the beams of hot energy redirect, ricocheting off my rapidly heating wings, hitting a few of the stragglers. Then, I hear a power armor wearing knight try and grab me. Closing my wings up, they rotate in their sockets, jutting outward. I thrust one into the knight’s chest, staring him down through the visor on his helmet. Then, I open my wing, bisecting him straight up the middle. His eyes lose focus, blood pours onto the floor, and he collapses. Bits of brain and frontal organs spill into the crimson pool. Letting out a sigh, the high finally starts to steady. Four left.

Two run straight at me, dropping their weapons, trying to overpower me with numerical strength. Unfortunate that it wouldn’t work. As they try to rush me, I stand on my hind legs, my spine shifting. I shoot my left foreleg forward, and it launches out, extending about ten hooves in front of me before it wraps around a knight’s throat. With a heavy flap of my wings, I leap into the air, twisting to begin a whip’s momentum on the extended foreleg of mine. Inside of his armor, the stallion screams as he’s hoisted into the air at a rocket’s pace. I roar, aiming straight for a trio of unarmored stallions. As my stretched-out leg releases him, he hurtles straight into the poor boys like a 2 ton bowling ball. Crashing into the reinforced concrete, he turns the other troops into mush, ending up a twisted hunk of steel himself.

I rotate around to take care of the other, extending both forelegs, crossed over each other. I loop them through I-bars reinforcing the bunker, before I wrap my left forehoof around both of his forelegs, and the other hoof around his hind legs. Gritting my teeth, I tighten my grip, and begin to pull. The torque I get from so many points of leverage makes me tear him in half in a mere hoofful of seconds, spilling his intestines all over the floor. Another tried to sneak up on me, holding a knife with his magic. I took care of him swiftly. As my forelegs were still reeling in, I aimed for his head. My clawed hooves clasped around his helmet. With a frenzied squeeze, I pop his head like a grape. Brain and skull fragments spray all over my face, decorating me in gory slick.

A syringe shot comes from the last Knight Ranger, landing in my neck. Coughing, I pull it out, looking at the empty injector frustratedly. “You… you were supposed to be sedated.”

I sigh, annoyed. “All ya did was fuckin’ sober me up.” In a flash of red flames, I speed over to him, my claws wrapping around the collar of his armor. Slamming him onto the floor, I rip his helmet off, saliva dripping down onto his face. He was trembling, covered in sweat. It was wonderful. Gently running a pair of claws over one of his cheeks, I got a good feel for how much meat he had to spare. Plenty. So I leaned down, my hoof clamping over his throat as my snout got next to his ear. I could smell his nerves, the perspiration saturating his coat. “Nopony likes a mood-killer, Ah’m afraid. ‘Specially not me, sugarcube.” I grinned, instantly feeling his pulse rise. Finally. A proper meal.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tin Tanner waited outside of the bunker, a leather vest and blue bodysuit draped over his back. I pridefully walked from the burning facility with blood smeared over my face, and my belly full of meat. “You look just how I remember. Guess you burned turned those rangers into char, huh?” He raised a brow, pointing to me with a hoof. “A little messy, granted, but I’m sure it’s what you’re used to.”

I gave him a strong, dead-eyed stare, holding out my hoof for the clothing. “Ah feel like Ah’m in proper shape again. ‘Spose Ah owe ya one.” He hoofs it over, and I start to put it on. Pushing my tail through the dock hole on the open-leg bodysuit, I feel it snugly cup under my hips, and conform to my thin, long body. It was tight. Precisely how I remembered it. Next came my leather vest. Some proper organ armor, thick, tough, and ribbed. Zipping it up three quarters of the way, I let out a sigh. “Oh, Celestia, is it lovely to feel the hug o’ mah clothes again.”

“Oh, and one more thing. I was sent on this job by uh… somepony who specifically requested you.” He unravels a wing, holding a small metal disc. “He said you knew him. Stallion all the way north, up near Whinnyapolis.”

I pluck the disc from his wing, letting it catch the sun. I knew the craftsmanship almost immediately. A pony who was obsessed with mechanics. My face and snout wrinkle with malice, my eyes narrowing as I get closer to Tanner. In his face. “Y’take me fer some kinda errand-mare fer Cold Crank?”

Tanner sighs, pulling away part of his jacket. It reveals a set of tubes and metal plates burned into his chest. Some sort of artificial lung. “I owe him. This whole breakout? It was staged by me. I perfected the times, the gear placement, even sabotaged the emergency syringe guns. You get there, this prosthetic lung is paid off. Please, it’s all I ask. If I do this, I’ll finally be free of him. I’ll owe you my life, Cardinal.”

I debated it for a moment. I didn’t have to do this. It was stupid to do it; even if I took the tracker and fucked off, let the thing blow me up, Tanner would still serve him. This was his chance to break free of that technological tyrant. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, without another word, I take the tracker, snatching it up with my claws. “Ahright. Ah’m doin’ this because it’s what Ah wanna do. Ah ain’t obligated.”

The pegasus lets out a relieved chuff, “Oh, Celestia, thank you so much! Thank you!” He lays down on the ground, prostrating before me. “You’ve saved my life once, and you’ve just done it again. I don’t care what ponies call you. The Redline is a hero. You’re a saint.”

Groaning, I tuck the token away. “Fuck’s sake, boy.”

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[shadows-over-the-wastes]

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Pound of Flesh's small thumbnail! the way we formatted it was really challenging. We made the whole thing in clip studio paint and had to entirely reformat the text since the line spacing, paragraph breaks, and indentations didn't carry over. It lagged the entire program and was a beast to manage.

from Samara, the Illustrator; "Since C&F's are memories told from the sole perspective of someones mind i thought it'd be really cool to make the whole post appear sorta as a scrolling memory feed as well as take that memory-esque vibe to the illustration. I think keeping it two tone (asides from what was most notable to the memory, the wings, horn, and smoke of the augments) and blurry but having that intense eye really shows how Cardinal Rime felt to Cold Crank. i feel way more passionately about it than i can find the words for rn but i hope the insight is nice!"

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

"My purpose is war. My design is antipathy. I cannot love. Not because I’m incapable. But because my love is twisted. Fetid and rotten. The only thing I know is rancor."

Carrie from shadows over the wastes

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

The humming of a dim ceiling light, the shadows dancing and wobbling as the sole reply to the mind numbing silence. I saw movement where there was none. Heard voices where none could be. My head hung low, my red and pink mane covering most of my field of vision. I couldn’t be bothered to flick my head back to fix it. I was contained in a contraption specifically designed to house me. Rivets, eight of them driven straight into my ribcage, securing an exterior set of claws that kept me from thrashing about. The external ridges of my false spine were locked in place using a control plug, rooted into a hole just above the dock of my tail. A set of tubes plugged into my exhaust ports, where my wings were meant to be mounted, circulated a sedative through my system. 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The vertically inclined examination table I was attached to like a trophy had a pair of massive, mantis-like arms that hung over me. Punishment for misbehavior. Even with the sockets of my forelegs hoisted up using a set of chains, and my own body serving as my prison, I was still deemed a threat.

A single scientist entered the room with me. A pegasus, using his wings to hold a clipboard and pen in front of him. “Alright then. Miss Cardinal Rime. That is your name, right?” I muttered in reply, slurring what little words I could manage. “Ah right, my colleagues warned me about your containment measures.” Folding a wing behind, he reaches into a lab coat pocket, withdrawing a small remote. Pressing on the center, the flow of the sedative slowed, allowing me to wake up a little. “There. Can you confirm that you are, in fact, Miss Cardinal Rime?”

Gritting my teeth, I scowled, my eyes locked on the stallion before me. “Ah ain’t a ‘miss’. ‘Miss’ is fer business mares n’ authority.”

“Wow, of all things I was informed of, such a rich Appleoosan accent was not one of them.” He noted a few things on his clipboard. “How are you feeling this morning? As I’ve been informed, this is your tenth year inside this cell. I can tell it’s having a very strong psychological effect on you. Judging from your facial features alone.”

The left side of my snout twitched. This bastard was clearly new to this whole procedure. Maybe I could use that to my advantage. “Sluggish. Hungry. Fiendin’ fer a fuckin’ smoke. And… trust me. It ain’t the cell makin’ me look like this.”

The pegasus nods, “Fascinating.” Then, approaching at a careful angle, he gives a physical examination. I try my damndest to cooperate. Maybe if I’m nice, I can get him to do what I want. I can get him close enough to twist his fucking head off. “It’s my understanding that my fellow researchers aren’t… complying with most of your dietary needs.”

I let out a dry chuckle, “Nah, them motherfuckers don’t give a shit about givin’ me no proper fix. They ain’t gonna gimme what Ah need. Cause it’s brutal, and ‘against their ways’. Which… civilized as they pretend t’be, is fair enough.”

“Ah! Although logical… that seems… unfair. Judging from your attitude, it seems that the imbalanced internal biome is having the side effect of subject resentment. I apologize, Miss Rime.” He stutters a moment, quickly correcting himself, “Sorry. Cardinal. Is that better?”

He wasn’t just taking my measurements. He was trying to be nice. Why? Doesn’t he know who I am? What I’ve done? “Right. Sure. Ah’m gonna ask ya a question, doc-“

“Oh, please, I’m no doctor.” He chuckles, writing a few things on his clipboard. “But yes, ask me anything.”

“What the hell is yer game? Y’waltz in here like ya fuckin’ own the place, and talk t’me like y’know me.” I squinted.

He nods, “I know very well who you are. I am also the only one they could ever force to get this close to you, because I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of The Redline.” He gets closer. So close that I could feel his breath on my greasy coat. “I also know that you’re not as bad as they say. Sure. You have your vices. You have cannibalistic tendencies, but…” He presses a hoof against the base of my throat. I lurched forward a little, feeling myself start to drool. “I know you’re a good pony when it matters. You remember… about twelve years ago. You came to a little town called Foaledo.”

My eyes widened, “That town that got assaulted by Gorehawks.”

“Uh huh.” He nods, “I was there. I lived there as a colt. And I saw what you did. A glorious red massacre. You came upon us like a gore-painted angel. Like I said. You’re a good pony when it matters. So… in return for giving me the chance to live my life, I’m going to help you. It’s… a small favor in comparison, cause I know you would’ve gotten out of here even if I hadn’t decided to help. But. I heard they were keeping you here, and knew I wanted to be there to see it.”

I felt my heart slowly come to a normal rate. The plan I had to escape using this young stallion, I didn’t even need to enact it. He came here for me. Why? I mean I know why but, why? “Y’got a name?”

“Tanner. Tin Tanner.” He pulls the remote from his pocket. “Just give me the go ahead, and we get out of here.”

Groaning, I look down at the floor for a moment. “Where’s mah prosthetics?”

Opening his coat, he reveals my long, chrome horn strapped to his bodysuit. “Your hooves and wings are in the holding lab. They’ve been studying them, but still can’t figure out how they work. They’re trying to reproduce them for Knight augments I think.” Tanner steps back, unfolding the odd remote that he has, allowing access to a greater variety of switches. “You ready? It's a shift change, so the lab’s at its emptiest right now. We just gotta get to the lab without triggering an alarm.”

“Lemme loose.” I gave him a glare, “An’ stay low. Ah’m hungry, and Ah don’t want ya gettin’ caught in the frenzy that comes with it.” I feel my dry lips peel back, barely able to contain my joy as I give a wide grin.

Pressing a few switches on the controls, the rivets in my ribs unscrew, blood spraying as they’re unlatched from my bones. The cage flowers open, and the plug releases from my spine, tubes spraying sedative as they hiss and disconnect. The chains rooted in my foreleg sockets disengage, leaving me with no support. I fall straight onto my face, feeling my bones rattle together as I hit the cold concrete. “Careful. Muscle atrophy, combined with the anaesthetic properties of the sedative might make you feel lethargic and unbalanced.” He moves forward, helping me up, mostly giving me something to lean on.

As I leaned against him, he gently raised the long, polished horn to the plate affixed to my head. He placed it in the socket, the solid metal ornament whirring as it rapidly screwed itself into place. “Where’s the security room?” Saliva rolled down my chin, I was so close to finally getting what I needed.

“Down the hall, on the left. Why?” He asked, but before he was given any explanation, I bolted down the hallway, drool smearing across my face as I could smell the fresh meat awaiting me. My hooves slapping against the concrete floors must have alerted the stallion in the security room, who came out to investigate. He wore a uniform that had a grayscale digital camouflage pattern, and a flat cap that kept his mid-length mane tucked.

Glancing over, his eyes locking with mine. “Oh fuck.” His heart visibly dropped into his stomach, color drained from his face. He knew exactly what was about to happen.

I leapt forward, springing on my hind two legs. Manipulating my momentum, I wrapped my haunches around his body. With a quick spin, I threw him down. He grunted as our mass collided on the floor, about to let out a scream from the shock and pain. With a lightning-quick thrust, I slam my forehead on his skull. A sickening crunch echoes through the room as I crack his cranium like an egg, my chrome horn speared through his head. Cackling, I reeled back, pulling his skull apart, practically unhinging my jaw, before I snapped downwards, sinking my fangs into his meat. Ten years since my last proper meal. My last indulgence. And by Celestia’s light and grace, was it like getting to experience the first time all over again. The metal plates on my spine shifted, spinning up a pair of internal turbines. Heat spread through my artificial skeleton like hot iron rods beneath my flesh. I felt my inner workings whirr as I sucked down his juicy muscle fibers like a feral vampire, blood spraying on the ceiling as it circulated through the vents above my wing ports. It rained down on me, soaking into my coat and skin. Rejuvenating.

Pulling my lips away from his saccharine flesh, I ran my tongue over my teeth, huffing. “Whew… who knew y’all Steel Rangers was so appetizing…” My spine clicked a few times again as I stood up once more on my hind legs, starting to calmly walk down the halls of the base. I stunk of copper and meat, just a few things missing, and I was basically back to normal. The lab wasn’t far, and was almost completely unguarded. What a shame. Slamming one of my hind hooves into the glass plate door, it cracked and whipped open, shattering against the wall as it flung aside on its hinges.

All of the lab ponies flinched, gasping and turning around to see me standing in the doorway. A Steel Ranger stepped forward, a unicorn, holding a laser rifle. He aimed at me, but didn’t fire. I could see the gun rattling in his grip. He was stricken with fear. “Don’t… don’t take another step!” He stuttered.

“Oh, please. What are ya gonna do wit that pathetic lil’ thing?” I laughed, leaning forward, slowly encroaching. “Now… hoof over mah wings and hooves, or Ah’ll kill every last one o’ ya.” I snapped my teeth at the lab workers.

There is a moment of delay. The lab workers all exchange voluntary glances. Without another word, a mare scurries over to a large metal case, starting to drag it to me. The officer’s face twists into an expression of confusion. “What the hell are you doing??” He barks.

“Making sure I don’t die,” she growls back, “dumbass!” Then, she continues dragging the box, stopping it in front of me. Opening it up, she scoops her hooves under a single cybernetic leg, starting to lock it into its rightful socket.

As she did, the multi-faceted frame extended, the silicon joints whirring. I couldn’t help but smile. “Thank ya kindly, lil filly.” I reach down into the box, drawing robotic claws to clamp around my other leg. Slapping it into the joint, it hisses as it connects, and I feel all my nerves light up. “Ah, Celestia! That feels leagues better already!”

“Alright… I got you what you want. Are…are we good to go?” The little mare scientist asks.

“Hmmm…” once I feel my legs click a few times, ensuring they’re calibrated, I reach down, grabbing a chrome wing. Latching it into the port on my back, I take a gander around the room. I watch the scientists as I insert the other, my wings clicking and rattling contently. I stand normally, on four hooves once more, my spine readjusting. Raising my right forehoof, I point at the little scientist. “Eenie.” I begin, starting to gesture at the others, “meenie minie moe. Catch a timberwolf by ‘is toe.” I point out all the scientists. “Giiiiiiit out! Yer lucky Ah’m bein’ nice.” Watching as they all rush out, I turn my attention to the guard. “Now… you. Ring yer buddies.”

The ranger’s brows furrow. “What?”

“Ya heard me.” I replied. “Call ‘em.”

“I… don’t think I will.” He begins to back away.

I let out a deep sigh, my metal wings popping out, making a loud spring noise as they do so. “Y’ain’t much fun at parties are ya?” There is a flash, a glimmer of silver light as my left wing fully extends and retracts in a fraction of a second. “Shame.” Sparks spray from slivers in the computers in the room, beakers spilling solution as they lose their upper halves. A clean laser-precise cut, destroying the equipment and technology around me. The steel ranger’s eyes blankly stare at me, before a line forms around his neck, blood pouring down his chest. Then, his head slumps off his shoulders, and his body crumples down onto the ground.

“What a waste.” I spit, holding up a hoof, the center pad of the hoof opening up, with a rod poking out from the exposed innard. Pointing it outward, flame jets from my hoof, swathing the entire room in a red blaze, destroying anything I missed with my wings. Then, as the glowing barrel ceases its spew, I hold it up in front of my snout, blowing smoke out of the end. My hoof reforms, and I slowly saunter my way towards the entrance of the laboratory.

The alarms in the facility blared through the corridors, alerting everypony to my presence. Smirking, I stroll over to a pair of chemical cabinets. Sorted by flammables, acids, bases. Tons and tons of them. Flicking out what I didn’t need and letting it shatter on the floor, I took the few I did need, as well as a few medical huffers they kept. Sitting in the middle of the hallway, I sort the chemicals into their spots, being meticulous about it. I never wanted to mess this up. Sure, huffing mustard gas wouldn’t kill me, but it would hurt, and it wouldn’t give me the high I wanted. Not that I could even make that with what I had. Mixing chemicals together and filling my inhalers with them, I put all of them, save for one, back into my storage unit. A tiny compartment in my foreleg. Picking up the last, I let it hang from my lips, casually making my way for the exit. Hoping, no, praying there would be somepony for me to kill in the way of the door.

As I made it to the front of the bunker, I saw it. A gathering of Rangers. Armored and unarmored. There were seven stallions in power armor. The rest, wielding laser weaponry, sitting behind makeshift cover and barricades. One of the knights stepped forward. “This will be your first and only warning, Redline. Take another step, and we will dispatch you. Permanently.”

“Oh, poor lil’ Knight. You know as well as Ah do, that ain’t gonna happen.” I smirk, still clenching the inhalant in my teeth. “Y’all’ve caught me in a charitable mood, though. Just had a decent enough meal. Ah’m gonna give you one chance t’make about face. Do that, and y’live. Choose not to, and Ah’m gonna rip all o’ y’all in half. Plain n simple.” I chew on the mouth bit of my inhaler for a moment, watching as they all tense up and switch their weapons off safe. “Well. Ah gave y’all a chance. Can’t say Ah didn’t warn ya.” I bite down on the mouthpiece of the inhaler, and feel it trigger. The internals click, and a stream of aerated chemicals are shot directly into my system. They taste vaguely of formaldehyde and rubbing alcohol. As soon as it rockets into my lungs, I feel a cold wash over them, before it finally absorbs into my bloodstream. I tilt my head back, 10 years of sobriety bursting open like a fucking dam. As good as my first high, I could almost swear it. For half a second, my whole body was calmed. Then came the rush.

My nerves felt like they were on fire, colors and details sharpening, and suddenly that drive to taste Ranger flesh was stronger than ever. One of the backliners lowered his gun, “Somepony call Cael! Get the fucking syringer!”

Spreading my wings and howling, I spat drool from my mouth like a rabid animal. “Finally… Ah can think again.” I let out a wheezy cackle, before charging forward, huffing through clenched teeth. The power armored knights didn’t hesitate at all to open fire, flooding the hallway with gatling laser shots from their battle saddles. Beginning to fly, I expertly twirled through their stream of projectiles, making angular shifts in my pitch and yaw. Then, I opened my right hoof, the flamer barrel protruding from the bottom. I stabbed it into the first knight I encountered, right through the gap in his armor between the helmet and neck brace. He recoiled, blood leaking through his armor. But that wasn’t enough for me. I triggered the flamer, grinning. His entire body was flooded with a hellfire, making the stallion scream in pain. Flames shot out of the nooks and crannies of his armor as he was burnt to a crisp, collapsing on the floor in a hunk of half-melted metal. Twirling away from him, my wings slice into the stallion beside me, my razor-tipped metal feathers turning his power armor into little more than steel sushi.

As the others try and blast me with their weapons, I fan my wings out, covering myself with them like a shield, and begin to spin. Red flames swirl around my wings, the ports blasting a dark blaze to create a magical barrier. I listen as the beams of hot energy redirect, ricocheting off my rapidly heating wings, hitting a few of the stragglers. Then, I hear a power armor wearing knight try and grab me. Closing my wings up, they rotate in their sockets, jutting outward. I thrust one into the knight’s chest, staring him down through the visor on his helmet. Then, I open my wing, bisecting him straight up the middle. His eyes lose focus, blood pours onto the floor, and he collapses. Bits of brain and frontal organs spill into the crimson pool. Letting out a sigh, the high finally starts to steady. Four left.

Two run straight at me, dropping their weapons, trying to overpower me with numerical strength. Unfortunate that it wouldn’t work. As they try to rush me, I stand on my hind legs, my spine shifting. I shoot my left foreleg forward, and it launches out, extending about ten hooves in front of me before it wraps around a knight’s throat. With a heavy flap of my wings, I leap into the air, twisting to begin a whip’s momentum on the extended foreleg of mine. Inside of his armor, the stallion screams as he’s hoisted into the air at a rocket’s pace. I roar, aiming straight for a trio of unarmored stallions. As my stretched-out leg releases him, he hurtles straight into the poor boys like a 2 ton bowling ball. Crashing into the reinforced concrete, he turns the other troops into mush, ending up a twisted hunk of steel himself.

I rotate around to take care of the other, extending both forelegs, crossed over each other. I loop them through I-bars reinforcing the bunker, before I wrap my left forehoof around both of his forelegs, and the other hoof around his hind legs. Gritting my teeth, I tighten my grip, and begin to pull. The torque I get from so many points of leverage makes me tear him in half in a mere hoofful of seconds, spilling his intestines all over the floor. Another tried to sneak up on me, holding a knife with his magic. I took care of him swiftly. As my forelegs were still reeling in, I aimed for his head. My clawed hooves clasped around his helmet. With a frenzied squeeze, I pop his head like a grape. Brain and skull fragments spray all over my face, decorating me in gory slick.

A syringe shot comes from the last Knight Ranger, landing in my neck. Coughing, I pull it out, looking at the empty injector frustratedly. “You… you were supposed to be sedated.”

I sigh, annoyed. “All ya did was fuckin’ sober me up.” In a flash of red flames, I speed over to him, my claws wrapping around the collar of his armor. Slamming him onto the floor, I rip his helmet off, saliva dripping down onto his face. He was trembling, covered in sweat. It was wonderful. Gently running a pair of claws over one of his cheeks, I got a good feel for how much meat he had to spare. Plenty. So I leaned down, my hoof clamping over his throat as my snout got next to his ear. I could smell his nerves, the perspiration saturating his coat. “Nopony likes a mood-killer, Ah’m afraid. ‘Specially not me, sugarcube.” I grinned, instantly feeling his pulse rise. Finally. A proper meal.

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Tin Tanner waited outside of the bunker, a leather vest and blue bodysuit draped over his back. I pridefully walked from the burning facility with blood smeared over my face, and my belly full of meat. “You look just how I remember. Guess you burned turned those rangers into char, huh?” He raised a brow, pointing to me with a hoof. “A little messy, granted, but I’m sure it’s what you’re used to.”

I gave him a strong, dead-eyed stare, holding out my hoof for the clothing. “Ah feel like Ah’m in proper shape again. ‘Spose Ah owe ya one.” He hoofs it over, and I start to put it on. Pushing my tail through the dock hole on the open-leg bodysuit, I feel it snugly cup under my hips, and conform to my thin, long body. It was tight. Precisely how I remembered it. Next came my leather vest. Some proper organ armor, thick, tough, and ribbed. Zipping it up three quarters of the way, I let out a sigh. “Oh, Celestia, is it lovely to feel the hug o’ mah clothes again.”

“Oh, and one more thing. I was sent on this job by uh… somepony who specifically requested you.” He unravels a wing, holding a small metal disc. “He said you knew him. Stallion all the way north, up near Whinnyapolis.”

I pluck the disc from his wing, letting it catch the sun. I knew the craftsmanship almost immediately. A pony who was obsessed with mechanics. My face and snout wrinkle with malice, my eyes narrowing as I get closer to Tanner. In his face. “Y’take me fer some kinda errand-mare fer Cold Crank?”

Tanner sighs, pulling away part of his jacket. It reveals a set of tubes and metal plates burned into his chest. Some sort of artificial lung. “I owe him. This whole breakout? It was staged by me. I perfected the times, the gear placement, even sabotaged the emergency syringe guns. You get there, this prosthetic lung is paid off. Please, it’s all I ask. If I do this, I’ll finally be free of him. I’ll owe you my life, Cardinal.”

I debated it for a moment. I didn’t have to do this. It was stupid to do it; even if I took the tracker and fucked off, let the thing blow me up, Tanner would still serve him. This was his chance to break free of that technological tyrant. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, without another word, I take the tracker, snatching it up with my claws. “Ahright. Ah’m doin’ this because it’s what Ah wanna do. Ah ain’t obligated.”

The pegasus lets out a relieved chuff, “Oh, Celestia, thank you so much! Thank you!” He lays down on the ground, prostrating before me. “You’ve saved my life once, and you’ve just done it again. I don’t care what ponies call you. The Redline is a hero. You’re a saint.”

Groaning, I tuck the token away. “Fuck’s sake, boy.”

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