Chapter Twenty Six: The Best Treatment

“It's not just about healing your body, it's about healing everything. We want to bring you back to normal life after the battle. Both physically and mentally.”

Sccrrraaaappppeeee.

I felt something, distant and cold, across my haunch. Everything was black, and my throat burned. I tried to look around, but nothing happened. I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t. Or they already were, I couldn’t tell. Somewhere I could hear ponies talking.

They were calm, discussing in muted voices things I couldn’t understand. They were words, I knew that much, but either my hearing had finally gone or they were far away.

I jerked to the side, trying to get some bearings. Anything to tell me where I was, to tell me why my throat was burning so much. My jaw was... sore; stiff and stuck. Somehow it was worse than all those times I’d been choked, by Wirepony and Slipstock.

Was this just another nightmare?

It wasn’t like any I’d ever had before. They were always so vivid and bright, not pitch black. Unless... had whatever I’d done to myself spread even faster? Did I lose my eyes while they were working on me?

Panicking, I struggled and tried to move. My stomach and back tightened but didn’t budge. Panting through the burning in my throat, I whimpered. I needed the ponies to hear me. The ones who were talking, they could help. Whoever they were.

Sucking in air through my nose sharply, painfully, I felt something bite me. It wasn’t like the last time I’d been bitten, without sensation... Where my hoof was suddenly just gone. This burned, like a flamer across my backside.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out.

Feeling tears in the corners of my eyes, I bit down, forcing my sore jaw onto whatever was keeping my mouth open. Celestia, Luna... take me...

* * *

Mouth watering, that burning feeling came and went. In the back of my throat, always there but somehow not. Even before I knew what it was, I knew I wanted it to just go and be done with. I swallowed, my jaw moved.

I threw up.

Retching several times, my mouth filled with a slurry of nastiness. Heaving forward, it kept coming. I let it go, wanting it to just end. Several chest-aching clenches later, and it passed. I felt sorry for the pony who’d have to clean it up.

“Oh, Goddesses...” muttered a voice. A voice I knew. My sister.

Slowly, I opened one eye a crack. Everything was hazy and grey, out of focus. In front of me I could see Lost, eyes wide in shock, her white coat marred by a brown and grey mix of... Oh no. I shrunk back, closing my eye again.

“Sor-”

Before I could even apologize, I threw up again.

Lost shrieked, her hooves clattering on the floor. “Saccharin! Rose!” she shouted. “She’s vomiting! I need help!” Her hooves slammed against the floor again as she ran around the room, with the quiet little splatters of my vomit hitting the floor.

I spit out the little that was left in my mouth. It tasted foul, and I was glad to be rid of it. With a frown, I rested my head on the... whatever I was lying on. I didn’t care about the mess, I was used to it. The Wasteland wasn’t the cleanest place to begin with, and if this was a real hospital they’d have something to clean us both up.

With a hiccup, I looked at my sister. She stood at the doorway, looking out it, most likely at the other two who I could hear coming running. The burning in my throat was terrible, and I swallowed what hadn’t come up all the way just to get it out of my throat. Breathing heavily, I whispered, “Sorry... Lost...”

Rose ran into the room, pushing past Lost with a little oddly shaped bowl in her magic. She skidded to a stop the moment she passed my sister, looking around the room. Groaning, she looked at the little bowl-thing, then at me. “What did you eat?” she demanded.

“I don’t remember the last time I ate,” I muttered, feeling something solid in the corner of my mouth. Working it free, I spit it into the rest of the mess on the floor. “Can I have something to drink... This tastes terrible...”

Deep, deep down in my stomach, I could feel there was more. I’d just have to hope it stayed down. I couldn’t take any more vomiting.

“I’ll get something,” Lost said. She looked down at herself and grimaced. “On second thought, you probably should. I don’t want to track this everywhere.”

Rose levitated the bowl-thing down to my face. “Lift your head,” she ordered. When I did as she commanded, she slid it underneath my chin. “If you have to throw up again, do it in there. I’ll go... find a hose.” Daintily lifting her hooves, she backed out of the room and stopped at the doorway. “Stay with her, I’ll be back with something to drink in a few minutes. The bathroom has a little shower in it. Go wash yourself up, and if she throws up again, make her do it in the dish.”

Clearing my throat, I let my head sink into the dish she’d provided. “Sorry, sis...” I repeated. “I think I’m okay now.” That wasn’t true, at all, but she needed to clean her legs before it started to dry. “I’ll call if I need you...”

My sister nodded and walked past me, carefully placing her hooves on the floor to keep from splattering more of the contents of my stomach everywhere. She looked extremely grossed out, but she wasn’t saying anything about it. While it was incredibly awkward, I was glad she wasn’t. I didn’t watch as she disappeared behind me, but I could hear the door creak as she closed it. It didn’t catch, meaning she’d left it open at least part way.

“I’ll be quick,” she said, her voice echoing quietly through the room behind me. After a moment, the sound of running water filled the air, followed by a contented sigh.

Slowing my breathing, everything suddenly felt very lonely. The room was bright and open, with me lying on my belly on a bed. Across from me was a terminal screen, but it was dark. There were two chairs against the wall under the window. I looked out it, to try and get an idea of where I was-

“Ow!” I yelped, suddenly aware that my everything hurt. Eyes widening, I remembered the intense burning sensation I’d felt on my haunches before. Lifting my head to look, I stopped. Everything had gone dark and hazy again, and my head ached something fierce. “Okay... look later,” I muttered to myself as I slowly lowered my head back into the basin Rose had given me.

Trying to focus on anything but the pain, I smiled. I could feel again... The pain was in my legs. They felt tight, like something was trying to push through my skin. I didn’t care, pain was fine, pain meant I could feel again. Smiling wide, I looked out the window.

It was wide and flat, meaning I had to have been moved into the taller yellow building. Outside I could see the clouds, bright and glowing from the sunlight above them. Wait, that meant... Had I been out all night? How much time had passed while they were... I shook my head. I’d get answers eventually.

My throat wasn’t burning anymore, and the feeling like I needed to throw up was gone. So far, everything was going well. I just had to wait for the inevitable downswing and everything would be back to normal.

Well, as normal as the Wasteland got.

Instead of something terrible happening, Saccharin walked in with Lamington right behind her. She stopped just inside the doorway, her eyes wide and looking at the mess I’d made on the floor in front of me. Scowling, she turned to Lamington.

“Probably best to wait a bit more,” she said before wheezing again. When the Star Paladin nodded and backed off, she pushed the door closed. When it clicked shut, she walked over to me and stopped at the side of the bed. “How do you feel?” While she asked, she pulled up a machine I hadn’t noticed from behind me. Several wires and tubes hung from it, all snaking across the bed and ended up attached to me in various places. She started to read off whatever the machine was saying about me.

“My everything hurts,” I answered honestly. A mild burning sensation shot through my haunch, in time with a strange whirring from the machine the mare was looking at.

“Good,” she answered. Pushing the machine away, she walked over to one of the chairs and grabbed onto it. Stifling a few wheezing breaths, she pulled it over and took a seat across from me. She smiled. “We did everything we could...”

Oh no. That wasn’t a good sign. Those words couldn’t mean anything good. I pinned my ears back, waiting for the ‘but’ to come right after.

“... and I’m certain you’ll be...” she continued, stopping to take another slow breath through her nose. Breathing problem or not, I was about to jump out of the bed and strangle her if she didn’t tell me what happened. Giggling quietly, she leaned forward. “Sorry. I mean happy.” Raising a hoof, she waved frantically. “Happy with the results.”

“What’d you do to me, doc?” I asked, trying to keep myself calm. The burning in my throat was back, and I was vaguely aware that my heart was pounding in my chest. I could feel it in my ears, like all those times I’d use Buck to get an edge. It wasn’t the same, not the powerful throbbing, but something different. Panic. Slowly, my heartbeat was returning to normal though, fading away back where it belonged.

“Take a look,” she said, pointing a hoof at my leg.

Lifting my head from the basin, I craned my neck and glanced down at my forelegs; which were splayed out in front of me. They looked...

Exactly the same as always.

I could see my left forehoof, the same as it’d always been, though now there was a dull stinging throughout it. The steel boot Praline had encased it with was nowhere to be seen. Turning to the other side, I looked at my right leg. Just like the left, I couldn’t see what was different. The steel forehoof from Stable Sixty was still there, meaning they must not have been able to rebuild an entire hoof. In the corners of the etched designs Praline had made, I could see the little flecks of red left over from when we were across the mountain. The red stains on my coat were gone however, every trace of the markings washed away or somehow cleaned. The only difference from how I looked before they put me under was the missing ring on the inside of the hoof from when Vice Brand and Slipstock had shackled me...

I turned my head around and looked at my back legs. I’d been rested on my hip, with both rear legs to my right side. The wires and tubes were attached all over me, with one of them attached to a needle stabbed into my back. On my haunch I could see my cutie mark, contrasting perfectly against my coat. Sighing in relief, that they hadn’t somehow burned it off with whatever that black painfulness had been, I looked down.

The shackles were gone. Completely. There weren’t even holes left in my coat from where their spikes had pushed through. I could feel myself smiling as I looked at them, clean and bare. Lip quivering, tears forming again, I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to reach out and touch my coat, just to be sure. Aches and pains aside, that was the best thing they could have done for me. A huge weight lifted off me that instant, and I knew that somehow, some way... We’d take down Amble and make Blackhoof, maybe even the Wasteland, a safer place.

Still, why was nothing different? I’d expected to wake up and have my legs replaced completely. I’d expected to see more work like Praline’s, heavy mechanical armor legs with intricate designs. This was different, confusing.

“What’d you do?” I asked again.

“Do you like it?” Saccharin asked, without answering my question. She breathed quietly, wheezing only slightly.

“I-”

A massive BOOM cut me off, deafening me and sending Saccharin out of the chair. She fell to the ground with a muffled thud, barely heard past the ringing that filled my head.

Through the ringing in my ears, I heard a wet and heavy thud from the direction of the shower.

“Fuck!” yelped my sister from inside.

“What’s happening!” I yelled, panic returning in that instant. The burning came back, stronger than ever. Eyes wide, I threw my head forward and pressed my muzzle into the basin between my legs.

Together with another explosion, I threw up. The siege wasn’t over, and we weren’t safe just yet.

* * *

Every time the building shook, my body would ache. The pain was terrible. It felt like somepony else was inside my skin, pushing up and trying to break it to get out. I had to force myself not to think about it, distracting myself with anything I could. Even staring at the furniture in the room was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, if only because it meant that each time an explosion or gunfire would rock the outside world and make the walls and floor shake, that I’d feel it a little less.

They’d been at it for hours, trading shots back and forth. Time had started to blend together and without the PipBuck I only knew that it’d been way too long since there’d been some peace and quiet.

Had they performed surgery during all this? What if they’d fucked something up and I was left wit-

No, I couldn’t think about it.

Lost was a capable pony and she knew what she was doing thanks to her practice with Praline. Her special talent was working with intricate metal parts, which I probably had a lot more of now. Rose I knew was a medical pony and she had cheater magic to make everything go perfectly. She had training from the Ministry of Peace itself, there was nothing better out there for a pony. The only wildcard was Saccharin, but...

I looked down at my legs.

I couldn’t even see where they’d cut me open. The front of my foreleg had a little shimmer to it, enough to catch the light and almost sparkle whenever I shifted my weight just right. Rolling my shoulder, painfully, I watched as a little shining streak ran from hoof to elbow and back. It looked just like Saccharin’s. I didn’t know what it meant, but most likely it was something boring, like what a clean coat looked like. I didn’t mind it at all, it was just... different. Were it not for that barely noticable difference, I’d still have been worried they’d just knocked me out for the night and used magic without giving me any sort of operation.

I tried moving a hoof.

“Ow! Ow, ow... ow...” I whimpered, shying away and grinding my teeth. It still hurt, but at least it did move, even if it was only a twitch. Smiling through the pain, I tried the other one; my steel forehoof. That one moved as well, without the extra pain added along with it. Just like before, it flexed back and forth along the hinge Praline had made at my fetlock. That was good enough. I could test my rear hooves later.

My stomach rumbled, in time with another rattle of gunfire outside the windows. Groaning, I looked at the door.

“Hey! Anypony hear me?” I yelled. “Is there anything to eat?” My stomach grumbled again. “I’m starving,” I added under my breath.

Lost poked her head in before I could finish complaining to myself. She looked at me, a small smile across her lips. “I can get you something,” she answered. “How’re you feeling?”

“I can move,” I answered, not mentioning the pain. I could whine about that later.

“Good,” she said, sighing softly. “I’ll grab you something, and I’ll get Saccharin while I’m there.”

“Why? She’s not food,” I muttered. My stomach growled again, as if to emphasize my point. “I just want something to eat.” Actually, I wanted the pain to go away and something to eat, but the two combined were putting me on edge.

The building shook again from another explosion outside.

Shaking in the bed and biting my tongue to keep from crying, I hung my head.

“Sorry, Hidden,” Lost muttered. “I’ll see if we can get a painkiller, too. Back soon.” With that, she disappeared.

Ears drooping, all I could do was lay there and wait. Goddesses, waiting was boring. I stared back at the furniture, examining the pattern on the chair near the wall. It’d do until she got back.

Luckily, my wait wasn’t that long. Lost returned a few minutes later with her horn glowing and a few ancient cans of food held in her telekinesis. Along with the cans, she had a package of Fancy Buck Snack Cakes and two bottles of Sparkle~Cola.

Both probably for her...

Saccharin walked in behind her my sister on three legs. Hooked in her foreleg was a clipboard. “No painkillers yet,” she announced. “It’s too soon since the last dose we gave you just before you woke up.” She took a deep breath. “Improper dosages are part of what put you here, so we have to be safe about it.”

“Here’s something to eat,” Lost said, setting the various foodstuffs in front of me. She nestled one of the Sparkle~Cola bottles between my side and the railing on the side of the bed. When I stared down at the packaging blankly, she blushed. “Sorry, here, let me open it for you.” Her horn lit up again and she popped open one of the cans, a short one with a half-torn ‘Braised Carrots &’ label around it.

Ancient carrots and hay awaited me inside. Normally it wouldn’t be the tastiest meal, but it looked delicious after all that’d happened.

“Thanks sis,” I said. “If you say so, doc.” Forgetting any manners I might have had, I stuffed my muzzle into the can and started to eat.

“You’re welcome. And the reason I offered to bring Saccharin is to explain what she did,” Lost said. “I’m sure you’re wondering exactly what we did to get you walking again.” She sounded very pleased with herself.

“Mmhmm, I am,” I said through the corner of my mouth. I swallowed before saying any more, remembering that mom had taught us not to talk with our mouths full. For once, it wasn’t just to keep from giving away our hiding spots, it was just the being polite... The carrots were fantastic, rivaling Marshmallow Sundae’s cooking, but it was probably a good idea that I paid attention. Still, it was hard to ignore my hunger. “Sorry, I’ve just been starving.”

“That’s fine, but just in case the siege gets worse, we’ll discuss as much as we can about the surgery now,” said the pale yellow mare. She grabbed one of the chairs near the wall and pulled it closer to the bed. Holding it in her teeth, she positioned it across from me and took a seat. Once there, she looked down at the clipboard and took a deep breath.

“Good point,” I said, sneaking another mouthful of carrot and hay. Lifting my head up, I looked at her chewing. “Explain away.”

“I just want to go over post-surgery care,” she explained, her voice more nasally than it was before. She wheezed once and looked down at the clipboard. Reading over a few lines of it, she turned back to me. “Outside you might look the same, but inside we augmented quite a bit.” She took another breath. “Your forehoof is well made, but based on archaic designs.” Another deep, wheezing breath. “Still, they were a good base to work from.”

“Praline did a good job, for what she had,” Lost added.

“You did, too,” continued Saccharin. “Crude or not, it’s masterfully m-”

The building shook violently, rocked by another explosion outside.

“Fuck!” I shouted, wracked in pain by the shaking of the bed underneath me. Groaning and throwing my head down against the surprisingly clean sheets, I clenched my teeth and bore it. It was worth it to feel again. Sucking air through my teeth, I twisted around to look at Saccharin. “Keep going, please.”

She cleared her throat, a noisy gurgling affair. “Removing the... um, shackles was the hardest part,” she explained. “Once they were out, we started repairing.” Mentioning the shackles made me shudder, and my sister seemed to have the same reaction. Saccharin, however, ignored it while breathing slowly in and out. Once we’d recovered, she continued, “We reset the bones and reinforced them with two number five osteo-cases, similar to what your cybernetic forehoof is installed around.”

“Number wha? That same weird segmented bendy rod?” I asked. Forcing myself, I raised my right forehoof up. It hurt, a lot, but it felt good at the same time. Even feeling pain was an improvement, after all. I could move it, I was actually doing it. That was worth every bit of pain. Once I’d gotten it up, holding it shakily in place was easy. Still, I could feel my skin buckling and bulging, straining to contain whatever they’d put in me.

“Correct,” Saccharin confirmed. “Your leg bones are still there, but they’re strengthened by and encased in steel now.” She took a deep breath, set the clipboard down on the chair, and walked over to me. Taking my extended foreleg in her hooves, she slowly forced it down. Tapping my elbow, she continued her lecture. “Everything from here down is mostly tendon.” She took a breath. “Above that we removed all the septic muscle, stopping above tricep and rectus.”

“Tri-wha? Re-wha?” I muttered, tilting my head. I’d never heard of any of those and wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“She means we took everything out from your shoulder and your haunches down and put synthetic muscles in instead,” Lost clarified. “The damage stopped about halfway under your cutie mark and was already working up toward your withers. So we took those entire muscles out, just to be safe. We didn’t want it spreading.”

“My Stable designed unobtrusive synthetics for as much as we could,” explained Saccharin, before she took another deep nasally breath. “Some complex organs require bulky, unsightly additions, but...” She ran a hoof down my foreleg, pushing against the skin and making that shimmery streak of light reflect up and down my coat. “Wherever possible, especially on large scale projects like this, we went with what would make ponies look normal.” Backing away, she lowered her hoof from my leg. “Synthetic muscles are made of extremely thin metal wires woven into ribbons.” She wheezed again, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “They overlap to form a complete system, from hoof to haunch-”

“So, I have a... metal butt?” I interrupted, suddenly very worried.

Lost stared at me over the rims of her glasses. “No, Hidden,” she answered in a tone that practically screamed ‘what a stupid question.’ “You don’t have a metal butt.”

“Good,” I muttered grumpily.

“What’s with that tone?” Lost demanded. “We spent all night making sure you could walk again and you give us an attitude?”

“What’re you talking about?” I retorted, glaring at her. “I didn’t choose for this to happen, and... well, okay I did. But it wasn’t an easy choice! I’d rather we got it over with in one night than make you wait on me head and hoof for the rest of my life if my legs never start-”

“Stop!” shouted Saccharin. “Fighting is bad for your blood pressure.” She turned to my sister and waggled a hoof at her. “You should know better.”

A pang shot through my heart. That tone of voice- just like... No. No, it wasn’t. I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Instead I lowered my head and looked away from Lost. “Thank you for fixing me,” I whispered.

“Sorry for getting snippy,” Lost apologized. “It’s just been stressful, working with that siege in the background.” As if to make her point, the rapport of a magical laser gatling filled the air. It probably belonged to Jazz, but we didn’t have time to worry about it. We were safe inside, for now...

“Anyway,” the pale yellow mare interrupted, starting her explanation again. “Bones reinforced with permanent internal bracing.” She took a deep breath. “Tendons and muscles refit up to here.” She poked me in the shoulder, midway up to my withers. “And here.” She poked me again, just above my cutie mark. “It’s very simple stuff, compared to the complex systems I had at the Stable.”

“So... how does it work?” I asked. I’d already moved my leg once, but I didn’t really know how it did it. Just like when my forehoof had been replaced, I’d piggybacked it on another movement. Moving two hooves together was easier than just one, and... maybe I’d already trained my brain?

Testing it, I tried to kick my back leg a few times.

Nothing happened.

Well, it hurt a lot, but it didn’t move more than a twitch. Twitches were good, but I wanted to be able to move. Forcing myself through the pain with a huff, I tried again.

“Ow!” I snapped, a lance of pain shooting up my backside. “What was that? Why’d it hurt in my haunch?”

“Because that’s where everything connects,” Lost explained. “You’re going to feel your skin hurt from where we cut it open, and the anchor points will hurt where the new musculature is attached. The actual replacement parts don’t really... umm, ‘feel.’ The overlapped ribbons she mentioned hook up with your natural muscles and the reinforced bone in the same places as if everything was flesh and blood. But since they’re not, it’s going to hurt wherever they pull against what still is.”

“Well, that makes sense,” I agreed. “I can’t feel anything with my steel forehoof, because it’s not flesh and blood.” I didn’t like being talked to like a foal, I could have figured it out if she’d just told me that was the ‘anchor point’ in the first place. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. I didn’t need to be upset, I was just agitated because I was in pain. Getting angry at my sister wasn’t going to do anything for me, especially since she’d done so much to help make me better. Once calm, I opened my eyes and smiled at the doctor. “Sorry, continue...”

“The only other replacement is the synthetic hide,” she continued, before taking few deep, forceful breaths. “We had to replace your skin due to fears of the tissue dying.” She exhaled, then wheezed another deep breath. “The surgery was particularly intrusive and we cut away much to give us room to operate safely.” She paused, breathing slowly, making me somewhat agitated that the explanation was coming so slowly. “There wasn’t sufficient oxygen supplied during that time, so we erred on the side of caution. The outside of each of your legs, from hoof to cutie mark in the back and hoof to chest in the front.” she answered, stopping to take a few deep breaths. “We left in as much as we could. Fat, nerve connections, and your circulatory system to keep your remaining real skin and bone alive.”

“It’s lucky your coat is white,” Lost added. “We didn’t have to find any dyes to make it match.”

Saccharin nodded in agreement. “Correct. As for the muscles...” she started, exhaling forcefully. “They’re actually very simple. Everything is wired to your nerves, same as the steel forehoof. It’s all electrical signals designed to work exactly like natural systems.”

Lost rolled her eyes. “Each leg has a muscle set of two parts with two positions. Up or down,” she added, explaining for the mare. “We tried to match it with Praline’s little terminal piece inside. That way there’s less to ‘learn’ when using them. They work almost identical to real muscles. one pulls while the other relaxes, then when you want to move the other way, the two flip. Forward back, forward back, taking steps.”

“So, will I be able to dance around in a firefight?” I asked. Movement while shooting was important, it kept ponies like me from getting too shot up. Given how reckless I was, and I knew I was reckless, I needed to be able to jump around and stay out of ponies shooting path.

“Eventually, probably,” she answered with a shrug. “What do you think, Saccharin?”

Saccharin shrugged. “With practice,” she answered. “Fine movements will take time to relearn and master. You’re not going to be a power pony.” Turning away from me, she grabbed the clipboard and looked at it while taking another deep breath. “These aren’t industrial strength parts, they’re medical grade augments. You’ll be about as strong as you were before.”

“I’m okay with that,” I said in my most agreeable voice. “I don’t really need to be throwing motorwagons around or kicking through buildings.”

“Says the mare who tried to lift a motorwagon,” Lost teased.

I chose to ignore it.

“None of that, again,” Saccharin ordered. “These are strong, but no more than a strong pony.” She wheezed again. “If you want super pony strength, put on Steel Ranger power armor.”

“I promise not to do anything stupid with my legs,” I announced. Biting at my lip, I added under my breath, “To the best of my abilities.”

“Good,” Saccharin answered. “Synthetic muscles aren’t common, especially after what happened at Stable One-oh-one.”

“What happened at the Stable?” my sister and I both asked.

“A mad stallion took over and tried to kill everypony,” she answered somberly before walking out.

“Think it was rude to ask about that?” I asked my sister.

“Maybe, but we couldn’t have known,” she answered, frowning. Moving to the seat Saccharin had left in the middle of the room, Lost sat down. “She’s right though. You look mostly the same on the outside, but it’s only skin deep. Underneath you’ve got yellow and blue steel ribbons in place of your muscles and tendons. It’s going to take time to heal and walk again. I want you to take it easy for a while, especially until the siege is over.” She turned toward the window. “There’s no telling what might happen.”

“I just want to walk again,” I muttered.

“I know, and you will,” she said with a smile. “Let’s see if I can’t magic you healed a little faster.” Standing up and pushing the chair back where it belonged, she walked over to me. Her horn lit up a light blue, and its magical glow wrapped around my left foreleg. The familiar feeling of knitted flesh started again, even through the part of my coat that seemed to shimmer in the light.

It felt good, enough that I leaned toward the side of the bed against her while she healed me. “Split the Sparkle~Colas with you?” I offered, making sure she didn’t get both of them.

“Deal, once I get all four legs,” she said.

* * *

“I wish I had the PipBuck,” I muttered to myself, staring out the window.

The clouds had darkened, their gentle sun-blocking glow fading away as evening turned to dusk. I’d spent several... hours? Years? It felt like years. I’d spent ages staring down at my hooves and working them around. The pain wasn’t that bad if I moved in small twitches.

There was a phrase, probably, for what I was doing. Pushing just a little bit further each time to see exactly what my limits were. My hoof would bend perfectly fine, it was just how much pain I could take before I grit my teeth and had to stop. After each test, I’d let my hoof snap back to a ‘neutral’ position where it wasn’t flexed or bent in any direction.

That’d kept me busy for the majority of the afternoon. It was only when I started to notice it getting darker outside that it bothered me how stuck I was in the stupid room.

They could have at least put my bed against the window so I could look outside. Scanning the scenery of the destroyed city would have been nice, relaxing even.

Instead, I was stuck staring down at my own hooves and boring myself to death. So that’s what I did, I stared down at my own hooves and kept working, slowly pushing myself in little twitches and spasms over and over.

After another indescribably long time working, I heard something. A quiet tapping over and over, like somepony finally coming to talk to me. I flicked an ear and looked over at the open doorway.

“Hello?” wheezed the voice of Saccharin. The pale yellow Stable pony poked her head into the room. She forced an awkward smile. “It’s time for your nightly checkup.”

“Alright,” I muttered, shifting my shoulders painfully. “I don’t have to get up, do I?” I meant it as a joke, but I wasn’t sure if it’d come across right.

“No, no, just lay there,” she answered, disappearing once again. Only a moment later she reappeared, walking on her hind hooves and pushing a small metal cart into the room. Atop it lay a smaller metal tray with a piece of cloth covering whatever was on it. On the bottom shelf of the cart was a basin with a towel in it, and several tools sitting on a clipboard.

“What kind of checkup will this be?” I asked, eyeing the tools. I recognized a few from the examination the day before, but several were brand new.

“Just making sure there’s no complications,” she answered, stopping the cart next to my bed and dropping to all four of her hooves. She took a deep breath, walked over to the chair she’d used earlier, and pulled it close. “They’re slacking off outside, this is a good time to check on you before bed.”

She was right. The gunfire outside had slowed to nearly a stop as night fell. I could still hear it, coming from both sides of the wall. They’d trade a few shots then stop, only to start back up a short while later. Now, though, the sounds of battle were further away. Either they’d moved to another part of The Cinch or they were off killing more raiders and bandits in the outskirts of the city proper.

It didn’t matter, they weren’t a threat to us for the moment and I was happy for that. The break was good for everypony, especially my limbs.

“Lost and I were born in a Stable too, y’know,” I said, trying to strike up a casual conversation. “We left a long time ago, when I was little.”

“Really?” asked the mare, sounding genuinely interested. Reaching down with a hoof, she grabbed one of the tools from before. It was a the same pointy scope thing she’d used to look in my ears before. “What Stable was it, do you remember?”

“I don’t, but Lost probably does,” I answered as she pushed the cone part into my ear. “Our mother took us into the Wasteland when we were foals.” It felt weird, having the scope pushed into my head, and I could feel every little motion nearly in my brain as she squirmed it around and looked inside. It didn’t help that, because she was so close, I could feel her breathing shallowly against my neck.

“Your pinna looks like it’s been through a lot, but there’s no internal damage. Looks good,” she announced, seemingly to herself as she pulled the scope back. Trotting to the other side of me, she pushed the scope back into my head from the other ear. As the weird sensation returned, she continued, “My Stable... One-oh-one? I’ve been out a long time now.” She took a deep breath, right against my skin. “But I’ll never forget the number, or why I had to leave...” The tone of her voice changed. “But you said you’d been gone since you were a foal.”

“Correct,” I answered, pulling away from the scope. It felt too weird having her talk into my head with it.

“How old are you now?” she asked, trotting back to the other side and pulling out the clipboard from the bottom shelf. Holding the clipboard with one foreleg, she sat down and raised her other one. As I tried to count how many years it’d been by how many winters and summers I could remember, she twisted her head around and unsnapped a button on the back of the Stable jumpsuit she was wearing.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “We didn’t really have a clock or a calendar. Other things were more important than keeping track.”

“That’s too bad,” she answered. “Knowing that would help for your medical history.“ She bit down on the fabric of the jumpsuit and lifted up a flap I hadn’t noticed before. Beneath it, I could see the telltale streaking shimmer of a synthetic coat just like mine as she moved about underneath the light from the ceiling.

“What’re you doing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I need to take notes,” she answered. Without further explanation, her back opened up. Watching wide eyed, a massive piece of her skin just lifted away. It exposed a compartment, full of more metal and artificial parts. The inside of her coat was smooth and white, just like mine, completely different than the pale yellow on the outside. Shining metal gleamed from the opening, covered in twisting wires and housing a massive arrangement of orange and silver cylinders. They spun out from the inside and extended outward. At the very tip of the three-jointed limb was a little pincher, with two dull claws at the end. As I watched in horror, it angled its way over her shoulder and grabbed onto a pen that had been stuffed under the clip of the clipboard. It pulled back and tapped the pen against the paper a few times, and she wasn’t even paying attention to it!

“Wh-what in the Goddesses name is that?” I shrieked, scrambling painfully with my forehooves and pushing as hard as they would let me against the bed. I ignored the pain, not caring as I tried to put as much distance as I could between me and whatever that was. It didn’t do much good, as all I could do was pat uselessly at the covers I laid on. For all the struggle and agony of synthetic ribbony muscles pushing, I didn’t move almost at all.

“What’s what?” she asked, staring up at me in wide-eyed confusion. Whatever it was caught her eye, and she snapped her head to the side to look at it, making her mane bounce. “Oh, thi- Oh. OH!” she practically shouted. The little pinchy claw-things dropped the pen and it retracted, bending around and collapsing in on itself until it disappeared back into the opening in her back. A second later, her back snapped shut.

Breathing heavily, I just stared at her. Is that what she put inside me?

Frantically, I looked at myself, my legs, my back. I had to get it out. I’d rather be immobile. The shackles were better than whatever that was! At least with the shackles I knew what it was. Breathing heavily, I shook back and forth. My legs weren’t responding to anything I was telling them to do. My forehooves twitched back and forth, but that wasn’t doing me any good. My heart pounded in my throat, threatening to jump out of my mouth.

“Calm down,” she said softly, one hoof raised toward me as if that would be enough. “Calm... Down.”

“What was that!” I demanded, cowering.

“It’s an arm, I use it for writing,” she explained in a calm matter-of-fact tone.

“Why do you have an arm?” I asked, blinking several times.

“My Stable designed and perfected cybernetics,” she explained, suddenly sounding very sad. That freaked me out even more, how calm she’d been. “Almost everypony had something similar.” She inhaled deeply, taking a long time to suck in air through her nose. “I thought you... being another cyberpony.” She paused, then looked away. “I forgot you hadn’t seen it.”

“You didn’t put one of those fucking things in me did you?!”

“No...” she answered, shaking her head.

All the tension melted in an instant. Still shaking, both from fear and the exertion, I slumped back down and let my head fall onto the bed below. I panted, taking quick shallow breaths and trying to stop my heart from pounding in my throat. Thank Celestia, thank Luna. I couldn’t have dealt with that...

“I’m sorry,” the mare said. “I... I’ll finish the exam later.” Setting the clipboard down, she stood and snapped the Stable jumpsuit completely closed again.

“Tell me about your Stable,” I interrupted her. I had to learn to deal with this sort of thing sooner than later. If I was going to have bundled ribbons of metal inside me, then... then that’d just have to be normal.

“Are you sure?” she asked defensively.

I just nodded.

She tapped a hoof a few times, looking very nervous. “Okay, after I check one thing,” she announced. When I nodded again, she finished shrugging her jumpsuit back on and walked over to the bed. Hopping up onto her hind legs. she started to push around at my skin at my shoulder.

It hurt, a lot. I could feel something different and alien inside me, shifting about against my skin. When she pushed one way, it would twist and bend around her hoof, squishing and bulging. It wasn’t too bad, until she started to pull with both hooves.

I bit down on my tongue to keep from screaming. Whatever they’d done to anchor the new muscles in place, she was doing her best to rip it back apart. It felt like my shoulder was being pulled out of the socket.

She let go.

Everything snapped back into place, and with it came the intense realization of exactly what they’d done. I looked down at my legs, both in awe and in horror. I blinked a few times, vaguely aware of her walking to the other side and doing the same thing. It didn’t hurt as much the second time, or the third... or the fourth. My haunches weren’t in anywhere near as much pain as my shoulder had been. Either it was because I was ready for it, or because I was too busy being shocked.

She was right. I wasn’t going to be some ‘power pony’ and be capable of doing incredible things. With just that she’d pointed out exactly how painful it could be if I tried too hard. The muscles would snap back, I might not. Thank the Goddesses she’d reinforced my leg bones. I could only imagine that without it, running and fighting might be enough to snap my legs in half.

“What was that for?” I asked dimly.

“Making sure the anchors held,” she answered plainly. “Nothing snapped apart when I pulled.” She took a deep breath, grabbed the clipboard, and set it on the top shelf of the cart. Grabbing the discarded pen in her mouth, she started writing notes.

“But they might if I push harder than that?” I asked, still staring down at my leg.

“Only if you push too hard,” she answered, surprisingly clearly around the pen in her mouth. “They’re designed for living, not lying in bed.”

“Then can I get up?” I demanded. “I’m sick of being stuck in bed already, I feel like I’m going to go crazy.”

“I’ll have a wheelchair brought up for you,” she answered with a smile, as if that was good enough. Setting the clipboard and pen down, she pulled the cloth off the smaller metal tray. “Last thing, then we talk.” Picking up a syringe, she walked over and held it up for me to see. “The painkillers you wanted earlier.”

Thank the Goddesses.

She jabbed me in the shoulder, just above where the shimmery gleaming streaks in my coat stopped. Pressing hard, she injected me with the deliciously amazing Med-X. It started its work almost instantly, cooling the burning aching pain around my new muscle anchors and joints.

I’d forgotten how much I loved Med-X. Closing my eyes, I just smiled. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome,” she answered happily. “But a more thorough exam will come tomorrow, and every day after until I say you’re better.”

“If you bring me more Med-X, that’s fine...” I answered, feeling in a haze. It’d been far too long, and even though it did little to make my legs feel more normal, it did a lot to make them feel good. My fears about whatever was going on inside her skin were already going away as well. It’d be okay, if I just let it.

“My Stable was completely populated with earth ponies,” she said. It sounded like a dream. “We were given much in the way of technology, and advanced it in spades.” She took a deep breath. “It’s located...” She trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

“Where?” I asked.

“Far, far away from here,” she explained. “In one of the least safe places in all of Equestria.” She took a deep breath. “It’s been... a decade, maybe?” She shrugged, breathing again. “I'll give you the short version, because of my respiratory system. I’ve traveled that whole time.”

“Where did you go?” I asked. Twisting around, I watched myself thwack at the pillow at the other end of the bed with my tail. It did little to get it any closer, but Saccharin figured out what I wanted and kindly moved it for me. Once she’d set it down, I rested my head across it and looked up at her.

“All over,” she answered. “Tried Canterlot...” She shook her head. “Death trap. Tried Manehatten, but it didn’t work out.” She shrugged, taking another wheezing, nasally breath. “Friendship City was nice for a while, then I started this way.” She chuckled once, quietly and forced. “It takes a long time to walk the Wasteland...”

“Why come out here though?”

“Ministry buildings,” she answered. “Few places had entire hubs.” That must have meant all six buildings together? “Canterlot had Ministry Walk, but the pink cloud there makes it...” She shook her head again. “I don’t want to discuss it.” With another deep breath, she sat back in the chair.

“Wait, wait,” I said, raising a hoof just barely and stopping her. “If you’ve been out so long, why not settle somewhere and make friends? Or be a town doctor? You obviously know how. And if you had so many resources to replace all my leg muscles, why not just make other ponies into cyberponies like us, or like Lamington?”

“He’s...” she started, trailing off.

“Replacement eye,” I explained.

“Really?” the mare interrupted, furrowing her brows. “Is it integrated into the armor or?”

“No,” I answered, mildly confused by her reaction. However, I wanted to hear more about her Stable and where she’d been, we’d already discussed cybernetics too much for one day. “Seriously. Did you just spend a decade wandering?”

She forced a smile. “Like I said, it takes a long time to walk that much,” she answered, before taking another breath. “Everfree to Canterlot, back, Manehatten near the coast... Friendship City...” She wheezed again, leaning back in the chair. “Then all the way to Blackhoof. I wasn’t in a rush.”

“But what about using up all the supplies?” I countered. “Have you really been wheezing for that long?” It seemed impossible.

The mare licked her lips, saying nothing. She looked deep in thought, so I didn’t interrupt. After a few moments, she shrugged. “Wheezing, yes,” she answered, a sad tone to her voice. “I hoped I’d find a Ministry Hospital where I could repair myself. No luck.” Pausing, she looked around the room. “Until now.” She took another breath. “Being a doctor? Sometimes I was, but not everypony is compatible with cybernetics from Stable One-oh-one.” She began to fiddle with the stitching on the chair she was sitting in. “When he gassed the Stable, I panicked. I grabbed as much as I could.” She took another deep breath, wheezing through her nose. We had to get that fixed. It was becoming unbearable. “Mostly small things, tools, collapsible hydraulics, muscle ribbons, rolls of hide.”

“Small things you could stuff into saddlebags and run with?” I asked, and when she nodded I continued. “But you still have all of it?”

“Most.”

“And you’ve just kept it?” I asked, trying a different wording to get the answer I wanted. “You could have helped so many ponies.”

“It’s not that easy. You need special tools, places to operate and rehabilitate,” she said somberly. “The Wasteland doesn’t have those. It’s a terrible place.” She said nothing for a moment, just breathing. “Either ponies don’t need it, they aren’t that bad... Or they’re too far gone to be saved by it.”

“Oh...”

That actually made a lot of sense.

I must have been lucky then. There were plenty of ways and times I could’ve died in the Wasteland, but the things that I needed replaced were... replaceable. Sulking, I pressed my head into the pillow I was resting on. Thank the Goddesses I had a choice when I was crippled. I’d have to thank Praline next time I saw her, for being there when I needed her.

“Yeah...” she finally muttered.

“So, your Stable?” I asked, steering the conversation back.

“Under Everfree Forest, maybe the worst place in the Wasteland,” she explained. “Last I heard it was getting even worse, if that were possible...” Grumbling, she coughed. After a minute or so of coughing, she smiled. “I’m okay, wrong tube...” She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “We were to try the Earth Pony Way, and see what happened, to make better choices than the ponies in the War.” She fiddled with the chair stitching again, tugging at it with her forehooves. “But one pony took over. Not an Overmare, but his charisma made others follow him, or turn a blind eye.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, shifting my weight on the bed. It hurt a little, but lying in one position for so long was starting to numb my haunches.

“We thought the nearby dragon was the problem, but...” Saccharin continued, not answering my question, breathing shallowly but quickly. “It was him, the whole time. The things he did were unsettling, even by our standards. We were used to working on ponies, doing surgery and expanding our capabilities.” Between each short burst of words, she’d take another breath, now forcing them raggedly. She slammed her hoof against the chair. “But not like him. He took dead and dying ponies, pretended to be the smart, intellectual type, but he was experimenting on them.” She looked away. “I couldn’t say anything, he had too much pull. Then he turned on us all...”

“I’m sorry I brought it up...”

Tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes. They shimmered on her coat, reflecting the light through the synthetic hide. “It’s okay, I need to let this out,” she answered, dismissing my apology. “At first it felt like... he was doing the right thing.” She pulled her hooves from the stitching of the chair and took a deep breath. “Going above, bringing things we needed back. It helped, but...” She sucked air through her teeth. “I want to say he snapped, went bad.” She stared down at her hooves. “That’s not true, he was always that way. He was just good at... twisting it. He knew how to make an atrocity seem like a good idea, in the end.”

“What the fuck kind of pony would do that sort of thing?” I asked.

“The kind who kills their friends, family,” she answered. “All in the name of ‘progress.’ But he’s not a kind of pony...” She inhaled deeply. “If we’re lucky, he’s the only one.”

“Please tell me he’s gone,” I muttered.

“No,” she answered, shaking her head again. “Red Eye is still out there, making the Wasteland worse than the zebras ever could...”

* * *

Leaning my head down, I flipped the page of the Supernaturals book I’d been reading. Before I woke up earlier in the morning, somepony had stopped by and left me a little care package. It included a nice breakfast, the book sitting next to it, and a wheelchair that I hadn’t bothered trying to get into. My complaining about not having anything to do while everypony else was up, mobile, and living their lives must have finally gotten on their nerves enough to give me something to do. At least the book was interesting. It was a Wartime book, stamped under the cover with all sorts of warnings and clauses, but the actual contents about different natural cures for a variety of illnesses kept my attention for the most part. The methods in it were dated, and required a lot of things that probably didn’t exist anymore, but I didn’t care. It kept me busy and I was learning a thing or two about medicine regardless. Even if I’d never get to use it.

I skimmed the diagram of what order to cook several different flowers and roots together, then grabbed the corner of the page with my lip. Flipping it to the side, I started reading down the page.

Stopping, I looked out at the window. It was very quiet outside... Sure, it was early, but the Steel Rangers had started far earlier the day before. Were they finally done attacking the walls of The Cinch, or had they just moved far enough to the other side that I could-

A burst of gunfire cut through my thoughts.

“Nevermind,” I muttered to myself... Looking back at the book, I found what little interest I had in it had evaporated. Instead, I just nosed it closed and pushed it off to the side of the bed. Breakfast was good, and the book was fine, but what I really wanted was the wheelchair.

Twisting my forehooves slightly, I pulled myself forward. I only moved a bit, and while I could get my forehooves to move around, I was still having trouble with my elbows. My back legs were ... well, with the shackles or not, I still wasn’t going to be doing much with them just yet.

If I could get my rump into the chair though, I could use my forehooves to get around. That’d be good enough, and I could find out where everypony else was spending their time.

Several minutes I spent grunting and groaning, making only the smallest of progress. I’d made it far enough to hook my steel forehoof over the edge of the mattress. Small victories. My concentration, however, was cut off by heavy clanking hoofsteps in the hallway.

Only one pony I knew could be that loud.

“Lamington?” I asked, looking expectantly at the door. Just as I’d expected, the heavily armored form of the Steel Ranger appeared in the doorway only a moment later. I smiled. “Can you come lend me a hoof?”

“Certainly,” he said, turning and squeezing his way through the open door.

“You can take the armor off, y’know,” I said, eyes closing halfway as I watched him struggle.

“Unfortunately, Miss Fortune, I must disagree,” he... disagreed, finally making his way through the door.

I twitched, closing an eye and grimacing. Okay, it was now or never. I needed to tell him not to keep calling me that. At least he hadn’t given me an order this time, and was just telling me his opinion. I, of course, agreed with it, against my wishes, but I wasn’t trying to stand up and move around just because he’d said I needed to with Amble’s little code-phrase.

“Umm, Lamington? Can I ask a favor...”

“I believe you’ve asked me for one already,” he said, his static-laced voice jovial. It wasn’t really the best time to tease, though...

“I know but, I mean...” I stammered. “Can you, can you not call me ‘Miss Fortune’ anymore?”

He stopped mid-way through the room. I couldn’t see his face, but given how his helmet was moving, I could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. After a few seconds, he nodded. “As you wish,” he agreed. “Is there a particular reason? I’d assumed you would prefer a more formal and polite manner of being addressed.”

“I- I do, actually, but,” I muttered, flicking my steel forehoof back and forth and tapping it against the mattress. “I think the way you talk is really nice, because most ponies in the Wasteland just spit out whatever they want to say.” I cleared my throat, seeing I was getting off topic. “However, I have some bad history with ponies calling me that.”

“Oh, I,” he muttered, his voice cutting out halfway. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” The formality in his voice was gone. It was nice to hear Lamington, rather than Star Paladin Lamington.

“I know, I didn’t tell you, because I keep wanting to pretend it never happened,” I explained. When he said nothing, I just kept talking. “The whole thing with the slavers in U Cig. Amble just got in my head, and that’s what she called me. So every time you were saying it, it just brought back all the things she did...”

He shifted uneasily. Even behind the armor it was obvious how uncomfortable he was. Taking one step back, his haunches slammed down to the ground with a heavy metallic clank.

“She used that name to give me orders,” I clarified.

The Star Paladin looked at me, the armor blank and expressionless. It felt almost like he was staring me down, but Lamington wasn’t the type of pony to do that sort of thing. He hung his head. “I had no idea,” he said, finally. “I won’t do it again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

“However,” he continued, a small burst of static sounding off as he spoke. “If I meet this ‘Amble’ pony, I will be the end of her.” There was an edge to his voice I hadn’t expected. He might have been a fairly stern stallion when necessary, but I’d never heard him angry before. The sharpness of his words, the confidence? It was a little scary... More intimidating, coming from a massive stallion that I knew was capable of backing up what he said.

He’d have to get in line, Amble was mine. If Rebar didn’t kill her before I got the chance, I wanted to personally strangle her to death. For everything she did, not just to me, not just to my sister, but to all the ponies she’d hurt in the Wasteland, for all the ones she’d sent to-

“Red Eye...” I muttered to myself, realization washing over me. Why hadn’t that clicked sooner? “Goddesses...”

Lamington cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?” he asked, sounding extremely confused.

I pushed the thoughts to the side. Just another pony to get revenge on later. He was the one making it so profitable for Amble, which meant that even if I ended her life, there’d still be a worse pony to worry about. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Will you please take the armor off?” I asked again. “I just want to be pushed around in the wheelchair, and you can barely fit through the doors.”

“I can remove my helmet,” he agreed. “I would prefer to retain the remainder.”

I just whined incoherently. “Okay, good enough,” I relented. “But why?” Curiosity was getting the best of me.

“I only have the undersuit beneath,” he answered, matter-of-factly.

“The wha?”

“A skin tight suit overlay, similar to Stable barding,” he explained. “Over it is an interface mesh layer for the power armor. Neither are meant to be worn as common clothing.”

Eyes widening, I just blushed. I could feel my cheeks burning. Oh Goddesses, Lamington in a skin tight suit. It was too much. Still... “I’m sure there’s something around here you could wear to cover up,” I said, hoping he’d at least try. “Tim Tam’s the only other Steel Ranger here, you don’t have to be the ‘example’ for your brothers and sisters anymore.”

He said nothing, instead just reached up and grabbed onto his helmet. Twisting and fiddling with the latches that kept it closed, he finally removed the helmet. It hissed as the seal was broken and a puff of air escaped. With some work, he pulled it free of his head. The gorgeous stallion’s mane was a mess, pulled from the swept back style I’d seen on him the first time. His coat was perfect, clean. The only thing marring his face was the scar around his eye. I’d gotten used to it though, and smiled as I looked over the reflective chrome of the replacement.

I understood a bit better now, what he’d gone through... How it was so alien to have something inside your body that didn’t belong.

He just slid an armored hoof over his head, brushing his mane back to perfection. One of his ears flicked. “For you, I will,” he said with a smile, staring at me with those intense yellow eyes. I could have melted... While I looked on, he started to strip out of the power armor. The armor itself popped open, as if the spine had split in half. The two parts opened up behind him and folded away, offering a view of his back. The power armor continued, the rigid pieces shifting on hinges and spreading further apart as the sides slowly unlatched from one another as well. Once they were far enough apart, he rolled his shoulders, as if moving them for the first time to work out stiffness. Seconds later the forelegs popped, seams forming on the outside as they opened up to give him room to remove his hooves. The hind legs of the power armor did similar, splitting down the side and parting on more hinges to allow him to back out.

The way the armor broke apart reminded me of the wire monstrosity from before, but I was too excited at the prospect of seeing Lamington for the first time completely armorless to care. That fear was so far away, behind indestructible Ministry walls, that it wasn’t worth fretting over.

The massive stallion pushed himself up onto his hind legs, rearing up so his forelegs were free. Carefully, he took a few steps back, until his hind legs were free of the armor. Once he’d cleared it, he dropped back down to the ground without a sound. How did such a massive pony land so quietly...

True to his word, he was wearing two sets of clothing. The outer one loosely hung to his body, draped off his back and made of the mesh he’d mentioned. I could see almost straight through it, though it matched the same dark grey as the power armor he’d been wearing. Underneath was what looked exactly like Stable barding, clinging to him and outlining every-

Oh Goddesses.

I buried my face against the pillow, barely peeking up at him. It really was that tight.

Not looking at my practically-melted form, Lamington instead turned to the armor and started to push it closed. He worked quickly and quietly, pushing the folded out pieces back together and closing everything. Once the body of the armor was back together, he picked up the helmet and set it atop. Were it not for the fact that I was looking at him, I’d have sworn he was still inside.

However, he was very much outside the armor. And I was very much staring at him.

As he moved, his hips swayed and his tail swished back and forth, probably free for the first time in ages. For how big he was, only the quietest of hooffalls echoed inside the room. He moved smoothly, surprisingly different from the heavy, jerking clankiness of the pony I was used to.

Was power armor really that different? I looked down at my legs. Would I be that clunky when I walked around now that I had similar inside me? I sure hoped not.

By the time I looked back up, the stallion was facing me. He’d stripped off the outer mesh layer of his clothing and draped it over the power armor next to him. Easily, he could have been a Stable pony and not a Steel Ranger without either of it on. Even the barding he had on had the little stitched ‘60’ on the collar, just like Saccharin’s Stable barding. The only bad part was that I couldn’t see his cutie mark.

“Is something the matter, Mis-” he started, before catching himself. With a small smile, he offered me a hoof. “Is something the matter, Hidden?” Lamington wasn’t as huge a pony as I had expected, but that just meant the power armor was a lot heavier and thicker than I’d given it credit. He was still massive compared to me, and to most ponies for that matter, but he didn’t seem it. Without the steel encasing him, he didn’t even seem intimidating. It might have been the warm smile, or that he was the cleanest, prettiest thing I’d ever seen in the Wasteland, or just... everything.

“You’re really hot,” I blurted out. The second the words left my mouth, my eyes shot wide open. “I MEAN! Uhh...” Clearing my throat, I looked over to the wheelchair and hooked my steel forehoof toward it. “Can you help me into the chair? So we can go look around?”

The Star Paladin smirked, but said nothing about the stupid thing I’d accidentally let slip. Instead, he just grinned. “Is that what you had requested my services for?” he asked, looking over to it.

“Yes,” I answered. “I’m restless, stuck here in this bed. I wanted to go and just... do... stuff. Anything but stare at these walls.” I wiggled my forehooves, ignoring the dull distant pain in them. “I can’t move myself is all, I need somepony to move me around.”

“Of course,” Lamington agreed. Walking over to me, he moved the railing on the side of the bed away and then hooked his hooves underneath me. It made me squirm, but he said nothing. He just lifted me into the air and slid me onto his back. A few steps later we were at the wheelchair, and he gently slid me off into it.

Landing was a... strange feeling. The parts of me that still had my natural hide could feel the chair just fine. But past my cutie mark, and the outsides of my legs... I couldn’t feel a thing. I was aware, of course, that I was sitting, because even through the new synthetic parts my weight was rested on something. Just... Part of me felt missing. Like there was a gap in the spots where my body was. Laying my forelegs on the rests to my side was similar. I could partially feel it, in the spots where my original coat was. I could feel my weight resting on something, but... there was just cold nothingness in the spots with the synthetic hide. I’d have to ask Saccharin if there was a way to get feeling back, because not being able to feel my skin was an experience I was definitely not okay with.

Once sitting, I tried to wiggle my hind hooves.

Nothing happened.

I frowned, but didn’t say anything to the Star Paladin. This was going to be a good experience whether I had to make it one or not. Instead, I looked up at him all while trying in vain to wiggle my rear hooves. “Thank you,” I said, sincerely. “Mind wheeling me around? We can chat?” It would be good to spend some time together.

“I’d enjoy that very much, Hidden,” he replied. As he raised his hooves to grab onto the grips at the back of the chair, he stopped and dropped back down.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked, twisting to see what was happening. When he didn’t respond, I raised my voice. “Star Paladin! What’s going on?”

“Apologies, I just noticed the gunfire had stopped,” he answered. Grabbing onto the grip with one forehoof, he twisted the chair around until I was facing the window and was close enough to see outside it.

The view was amazing; breathtaking even.

While Blackhoof was in ruins, there was still so much to see. We were facing away from The Cinch, out at the rest of the city. A wide road ran directly away from us, the lifeline that connected the ring of Ministry buildings with the rest of the city past us. Perfectly straight, it only stopped upon reaching another wall far in the distance. Made of red bricks and raising nowhere near as high as the one surrounding The Cinch, ancient letters hanging off the wall explained just what the building was.

R. E. A. Academy.

I’d heard that mentioned before, but now I knew exactly what it was. Below the letters was a huge gate, open and inviting. Of course, nothing survived the Wasteland intact. Several chunks of the wall were gone, seemingly melted. Perched atop the wall, halfway between the gate and the edge, I could see a massive cannon, poking out from behind the wall, aimed toward the sky. It must have been the gun Lost and I heard about while stuck with the trader, so long ago...

Between us and the wall, off to the right, were the remains of long thin buildings. They took up a majority of the space, zig zagged along ground, their rubble occupying much of the area between the Academy, the mountains, and the outcropping of regular homes. I could only make out what the remainder looked like based on the few that survived. The majority were just frames, which had somehow kept from falling into more piles of rubble in the centuries after the world ended. Lining the main road itself were several buildings that looked distinctly like stores, but from our angle I could only see the tops, rather than the front to know for sure. Were it not for the vantage point, I’d have written the entire half of the city a loss. That’s how little survived the end of the world.

On the opposite side of the wide road were massive empty spots, dotted with little piles of rubble and a sparse few intact buildings.

To my left, I could see dozens of sprawling, massive buildings. Much like Leathers or the M.W.T. building, they had to have been factories of some sort. Gigantic chimneys stabbed at the air from their roofs, the ones that were still intact at least. A few still shot smoke into the air after two centuries.

Well, at least somepony was past the ‘just survive’ part of living in the Wasteland...

After scanning the horizon and all the buildings nearby, I finally caught what Lamington was looking at. Dozens of power armor wearing ponies were marching down the main street that led directly to the Academy. They were going the opposite direction, and there were too many marching to just be a small group heading off to kill some local raiders or bandits like the ones we’d found.

“What in the Goddesses’ names are they doing?” I asked nopony in particular.

“Perhaps they’ve given up on the siege,” suggested Lamington. “Assaults on fortified locations run supplies low, and training states to cut losses when necessary.” He scraped a hoof across the floor. “Let’s hope they’re finished here...”

I smiled and looked up at him. “We’ll find out eventually,” I said. “For now? Wheel me around?”

“I can do that, Hidden,” he answered. “That sounds far more pleasant than thinking about Star Paladin Jazz and her ilk.” Grabbing onto the grips of my chair, he hoisted himself up onto his hind hooves and started pushing me toward the door.

* * *

What should have been a nice walk through the halls of the Ministry of Peace hospital instead became a race to find the others. Lamington’s gentle hooffalls on the tile clacked alongside the rustling of the wheels underneath me. I held on with my forehooves for dear life as the Star Paladin forcefully pushed me through the hallways.

Were it not for the fact that I was so happy to be out and about, I might have been terrified for going so fast.

It was amazing though, to see what I’d been missing. The hallways were clean and bright, painted a warm pale yellow, and lit by lights that should have been burnt out long ago. The tile of the floor flew by, checkered in an alternating pattern of light and dark pink with little designs at each intersection. For brief seconds I could see into the rooms we passed, and all were similar to the one I’d been stuck in, before they whisked by.

As we traveled, wordlessly, I caught a glance at the signs hanging from the ceilings whenever we passed another hallway. We’d been in the recovery wing, while arrows pointed to different ones like the main offices and rehab centers. Apparently, my room was on the third floor. The fourth floor was listed, but whatever they kept up there had been removed from the signage, leaving only the vague outlines of letters in the dust. Were I to guess, I’d say that was the best location for where Rose and her copies practiced and researched the megaspells.

Unless there was some secret underground lair.

That didn’t seem like the kind of thing they’d have in a hospital, though.

I smiled at the thought, but before I could come up with anything more, Lamington slowed to a stop. We’d ended up at one of the hallway intersections, facing two huge steel doors without hinges.

“Where are we?” I asked him, breathing heavily from the excitement. It was all I could do to try and wiggle my hind hooves in the chair, wanting to know more about the place I’d been stuck for so long.

“Elevators,” he announced. “The others need to know about the siege’s ending. They’ll most likely be on the first floor.”

“Ohh,” I answered, cocking my head to the side. With a flick of an ear, I looked up at him. Even from my position under his head, where I could only see his muzzle and chin, I smiled. It was still a good view.

Reaching up with a hoof, he pushed the button for the first floor. The suit he wore under his armor clung to his foreleg, but didn’t cover his hooves. They were well taken care of, no cracks or scuffs, with messy fetlocks where his coat had become somewhat overgrown. Still, looked nice.

After only a moment’s delay, the doors closed and the room dinged again. It lurched hard under me, enough to make every point where the muscles attached to me yell in protest. I groaned in pain, tensing up against my will. It only made it hurt more, but the fact that my brain was already figuring out how to react to things made it worth it.

Once we’d lowered ourselves to the first floor, and the door opened with another ding, Lamington pushed me free of the little elevator room and down another hallway. We traveled through several long corridors, all looking almost identical to the ones from the upper floor. At one point we passed a large counter with a few terminals on it, and a massive door that I could see led to the outside. Lamington didn’t stop though, he pushed me past a threshold of light pink and soft yellow where the colors of the walls and floors suddenly swapped places.

I had an idea where we were, more than likely switching to the smaller building. Signs explained it as intake, examination, and surgery. That made sense, splitting the active parts of the hospital where ponies were healed with the passive parts, where ponies recovered. It also must have kept whatever Rose was working on at the time separate from ponies who were in need of on the spot healing.

The halls we traveled down looked familiar, and I was sure we were close to the exam rooms and nurses’ station where we’d entered. After a quick turn around another corner hallway, we found ourselves right where I’d expected. A short distance away, Rose and Saccharin sat leaning against the counters of the nurses’ station, talking to one another.

“I have news,” announced Lamington as he wheeled me closer.

“...sure that-” Rose was saying, before being interrupted by the stallion. Both mares turned to us, and then blanched. “Hey hey, she’s not supposed to be up and moving yet,” announced Rose. Dropping from the counter, the clone mare made her way around the station and over toward me. Standing in front of us, she looked down at me. “You need your bed rest, otherwise we’re just going to have to operate again when you do something stupid and tear yourself apart.”

“Now now,” chided Saccharin, before taking a deep breath. “She’s holding together well, let’s hear the news before we jump to conclusions.” She looked over at Lamington, eyeing him up and down. Stopping on his face, she raised her eyebrows and made a little ‘hmm’ noise. “So he does have one...” she said quietly to herself.

“So long as the news isn’t ‘Hidden Fortune’s been up and walking,’” Rose snapped. Her expression softened and she placed a hoof against my left forehoof. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, we can’t put you back together again if you do.”

“Negative,” said the Star Paladin. “Hidden has behaved, allowing me to move her instead of forcing herself.” He smiled. “Our news is good news. The Blackhoof Contingent of Steel Rangers seems to be making their retreat.”

Saccharin and Rose exchanged worried expressions.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked,

“They’ve been attacking for...” Saccharin started, before pausing to take a breath. She raised her left forehoof and tapped it with her nose. Just like her back, a small section popped open, exposing the white back of her hide. It glowed a sickly green, similar to- Did... did she have a PipBuck inside her leg? It was unsettling, after what I’d seen, but that did explain why she was a Stable pony but wasn’t wearing one. “Two weeks, maybe. Off and on, leaving several times throughout.” She took a deep breath, sitting down and looking toward the wall that hid Blackhoof behind it. “They always come back.”

“How long?” asked Lamington calmly, leaning forward to get her to repeat her answer.

It was strange that none of them seemed all that taken aback that he was out of his power armor. Was I the only one who cared that it was the first time he’d ever- My eyes widened. Had he been hiding himself away from me while letting others see him without the armor already? I.... I really hoped not. I thought it was something special that he’d take it off for me.

Maybe they were just more interested in the news he had for them.

“A week and a half, at the very least?” she answered. “I didn’t look at the date when they started. I didn’t know it’d be a continuing siege.”

Little gears started working in my head. I tried to count the days we’d been wandering around, and how long it’d been since they’d left Leathers after what happened. Without the PipBuck I really had no idea, since I wasn’t checking the date regularly. It’d just never been that important. However, if they’d been under attack for over a week... That was a long time to survive with ponies shooting. It led to other questions, like why the locals hadn’t tried to get in yet, and how long Saccharin had had the entire place on lockdown.

Or how she got the locals out, for that matter. Surely she didn’t fight them out, there weren’t any signs of fighting inside the building. It’d have to be something I spoke to her about later, if at all. It really wasn’t important so long as we were safe.

The ponies who lived here however...

Shaking my head, I turned back to the conversation to find out what I missed while deep in thought.

“...cut losses as is part of Steel Ranger training,” Lamington said. He must have been explaining the same thing he’d told me upstairs.

“Where’s everypony else?” I asked, ignoring the subject at hoof.

“Tim Tam continues to watch the entrance, though he more than likely lacks the vantage point we were privy to,” Lamington explained. He’d dropped his hooves off the grips on my chair and walked around in front to talk to the others. When he did, both mares looked him up and down, and both smiled.

I glared at them, but neither noticed.

“Your sister was doing inventory,” Rose answered. “I’m not sure where the bugpony is, however.”

“Probably with Lost, or looking for something to eat,” I mused. That would be like him. “We need to find them to tell them what’s happening.” Squirming in my seat, I tried to move my hind legs again. They twitched every so slightly, and painfully, but didn’t move otherwise.

Rose’s horn lit up and she swung her head toward me. With the horn close to my head, she looked me over and started to pass it across my body. I watched warily as she scanned me with her cheater magic, the slight tingling sensation spreading across the parts of my legs that were still natural. I could feel it, against the void-like gaps where the new muscle was, lightly healing the parts together. It was a strange feeling, but one that seemed to satisfy her. “You should go tell your sister,” she suggested. “We’ll figure out what to-” She stopped and glanced to Saccharin, then back at Lamington and me with a surprised look on her face. “Actually, there’s nothing that needs to be done with them leaving. We can relax.” She smiled. “You were right, that is good news.”

Lamington nodded curtly. “Inform Tim Tam for me, please,” he requested, before rearing up and grabbing onto the grips of my wheelchair again. Once I’d given the tiniest of waves, he twisted me around and started me off in the other direction.

“She’s in the supply room,” Saccharin said from behind us. She said something to Rose, but I couldn’t make it out over the quiet clacking of Lamington’s hooves against the hard tile floor.

So much for our bonding experience. Oh well, at least I was up and about. We were moving much slower now, and I could take the time to look at the rooms we were passing. All were covered in the same curtains as before, and most were closed. The little butterfly pattern on the curtains reminded me of the first aid boxes we’d occasionally find around the Wasteland, but that made perfect sense. The few that were open all looked the same as the one I’d been checked in when we arrived.

Another two hallways passed and Lamington stopped in front of a doorway. A sign next to it read ‘Pharmacy & Supplies.’ Dropping down, the stallion walked around me and pushed the door open. Needless to say, while he was turned away, I did some looking at him in the skin-tight undersuit of his power armor.

It was anything but a bad view.

“Hello?” Lost said, almost expectantly. She poked her head around from one of the shelves, her horn glowing and holding a pen and clipboard in front of her. When she saw the two of us, her eyes lit up. The clipboard and pen clattered to the floor when he telekinesis disappeared, and she trotted over. “Hi. Hidden, how’re you doing? How does it feel to be up?”

“It’s good, I’m alright,” I answered, wiggling one of my hooves at her.

“She requested to do some sightseeing around the building,” Lamington informed her. “I was more than happy to accommodate.” The Star Paladin took a few steps back, moving my nice view just far enough that I couldn’t see it anymore without making a painfully obvious movement. “We’ve also come with good news.”

“I was going to come up and see you after I finished inventory, but I’m glad you came down instead,” Lost said, scooting closer and giving me a hug in the chair.

It was... lacking, somehow. I could feel her hooves around my shoulders and neck, but the feeling of her coat pressed against mine was missing along the outside of my legs. I couldn’t... feel her. It stung more than the feeling of my legs being pulled almost apart by Saccharin the night before, but I just, I just pushed it away. Instead I leaned against her and nuzzled her neck. After a moment, she broke the embrace and dropped down onto all four hooves.

“So what news?” she asked, cautiously.

“Scifresh and Jazz have begun a retreat, taking what seemed to be the entirety of their forces with them,” he answered with a smile.

“Wait a minute,” Lost said, looking him up and down. “You’re not wearing your power armor.” She squinted. “Why aren’t you wearing your- What have you and Hidden been up to?” She stepped up to him and pressed a hoof against his chest. “You are aware she’s in recovery, right?”

“Lost!” I yelled, feeling my entire body, even the artificial parts, burning with embarrassment. Realizing I’d yelled, I sulked and looked away. “Nothing happened,” I muttered.

My sister looked back and forth at the two of us. After a pause, she snorted. “Alright,” she finally said, before turning to the stallion. “However, you don’t get a pass just for being hot. Don’t do anything with Hidden until she’s healed completely, understand?”

Lamington blinked. The painted yellow iris of his eye shifted slightly, looking my sister up and down as well. He shifted his weight, spreading his forehooves and standing at full height with his head held high. “Understood, ma’am,” he said, before saluting.

Lost just looked up at him and blew air through her nose. “So they left?” she asked, the tone in her voice completely different. After we both nodded, she furrowed her brows. “Okay, good. But that means we have to worry about the ponies who live here trying to get in for medical supplies.” Her horn lit up, and she turned back to the shelves she’d been working on. They seemed sparse, but still had supplies tucked into them. “We’ve got enough for ourselves for a long time if used sparingly. However, if the locals start to rush in, there might be trouble.”

“Well, they can’t get in, can they?” I asked. It was a tough situation, because on the one hoof we needed as much as we could get ourselves. Saccharin had expressed a similar situation to Lost and mine, where we’d been taught and learned well not to trust other groups of ponies. But on the other hoof, was it right to turn ponies away that needed help if it could be provided? Lost was getting very skilled in her medical spells, given how much she’d helped me heal already.

Was she learning from Rose?

Rose... We had her, as well. She was incredibly talented with medical spells, even if she hid it behind snark and a harsh attitude usually. Simple stuff we could fix without the need to use up healing potions, bandages, or other drugs. Harder stuff could be healed with surgery, since there were three ponies who knew how to perform it.

I looked up at Lamington. “Would now be a good time to find out if Praline has heard from Xeno? So she can join us?” I asked. Lemon Tart would be a great help too. They’d fixed me up, and despite Praline’s insane bed manner, she knew her way around an operating room.

“Potentially,” he answered. “I hesitate to act quickly, lest the locals assume another siege is starting.” That was a good point, too. If Lamington’s entire family showed up in their power armor, another fire fight could start, and that would be very very bad. We were stuck until they did something outside.

Hopefully Rough Night and the others from Leathers had made it safely back, then at least we’d have common ground.

Lost cleared her throat. “So, what were you two doing out and about?” she asked.

“I wanted to talk and see the building,” I answered. “I was going stir crazy.” Shifting uncomfortably in the wheelchair, I looked to the Star Paladin. “So, now that we’ve shared the news, can we just... go wander?”

Catching my look, he turned toward me. “Anything you desire,” he said softly.

“Have fun, I’ll find Fine Tune and let him know, too,” Lost said. “Wherever he is...”

“Alright, I’ll see you later...”

Lamington grabbed onto the grips of the wheelchair and turned it away from my sister.

“Lamington, remember what I said,” she warned. “Have fun.”

With her little warning, the stallion pushed me away. Leaning down so his head was next to me, he rested it against my ear. “My apologies for becoming overly excited about the news,” he whispered. “We’ll move a bit slower going forward...”

Oh Goddesses...

* * *

I sighed softly, happily. It’d been a very long day and I was exhausted. The morning’s exciting news had fallen away to a relaxing day of walking around and seeing the various rooms in the hospital and recovery area. With nopony else to worry about, we’d spent the majority of the time wandering. The hospital itself was far bigger than it looked from the outside, and with Lamington pushing me around and us talking about all sorts of things, time had gone by quickly.

We’d seen Tim Tam walking around the main floor, checking lobbies and windows, being a good guard pony. We found Fine Tune with a hoof through a set of ponetian blinds, staring intently out the window toward the inside of The Cinch. When we’d approached him, he didn’t seem to notice us. Whatever he’d been looking at, he was so intensely focused on it that he didn’t even seem to pick up on the happiness I knew I was feeling while out and about.

Changelings... I didn’t think I’d ever understand them.

Still, after exploring the hallways from the emergency waiting room past the others on the far side of the pink wing of the building, and then making our way through almost every hallway back? I was so tired. The sun hadn’t even started to set, and already I was back in bed with my head resting on my pillow fighting to keep my eyes open.

I looked over at the massive stallion. “Sorry I didn’t have anything interesting to say the whole time,” I muttered, rolling onto my side and wriggling my right foreleg as best I could. It twitched and shifted, moving ever so slightly. Progress was progress.

“Perish the thought,” Lamington answered. He’d taken a seat across from me in the chair against the wall. It was far too small for him, but he didn’t seem to mind that. Instead, he just calmly looked out the window with a smile, occasionally glancing at me whenever I shifted too much. “It feels... nice, to be relieved of my armor, even for a short time.” Together, we both looked at the standing armor on the other end of the room.

It was strange, seeing it there. With the visor off and the light dim, it seemed almost like a ghost. It was a guard, watching over the room and us, silently waiting for emergencies. I knew it was empty, but it almost seemed like we weren’t quite alone. After spending so much time in the empty hallways and lobbies, all the empty rooms still made up as if ponies were to be coming in the next day... it was nice. We weren’t so alone.

“Tell me more about your family?” I asked, still playing my right foreleg around the bed in front of me. Each little motion it worked further and further, with only the slightest of aches nagging at me at the anchor point.

“I feel I’d only be repeating what you know,” he retorted, a playful tone in his voice. “After all, you have met them.”

He was right, much of what we’d talked about regarding his family over the course of the day was just rehashing what I’d already known. Praline was crazy but well-meaning, the twins were young but had such a hopeful future, Drop Scone didn’t treat her position as a ruling force but as the matriarch. However...

“What was your father like?” I asked calmly. I hadn’t known my father very well, given he didn’t... didn’t make it out of the Stable with us. Pressing my face hard against the pillow, enough to smoosh it around my muzzle, I looked up at him past the comfortable fluffy.

“Nothing like me,” the Star Paladin answered, looking back from the window at me. He smiled warmly, stood up, and pulled the chair closer by hooking a hind leg around it and dragging it. Once close enough, he sat back down. His steel eye reflected the light from the ceiling, but it was warm and pleasant, unlike how things had been before.

“What do you mean?”

“As you may have noticed, I tend to do things strictly by the instructions of our order,” he mused. It was definitely something anypony who saw him could gather pretty much instantly. Rather than continue, he brought a hoof up to his chin and stroked along it down his neck a few times. “He had little patience for most rules, unless they pertained to saving lives. He even tried to grow a beard.” Cracking a wide grin, Lamington sat back and shifted a few times in the chair.

I couldn’t help but stare at him in that skin tight suit squirming about.

“Beards are against grooming standards...” he said to my flat stare. Clearing his throat, he continued. “My father’s name was Black Forest.” Dropping his forehoof, he rested it between his hind legs. Dammit. “Elder Dr- Mother always told us, in his younger days, he was quite the rebel. She said his mane was unkempt and wild, bright red like cherries, with a streak through it of near white. Of course, that was before even I was born. When I knew him, it had already started to fade completely. When he settled down, he curled it down his neck like a respectable stallion. His eyes were the same, unlike the majority of the family... his were as red as his mane. His coat was darker than all of ours, a deep brown, almost black.” The stallion chuckled a little. “He was special...”

“Aren’t all fathers?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Yes, Hidden,” Lamington answered, raising a massive hoof and using it to ruffle my mane into a mess. “However, I was referring to his coat. Unlike mine, or yours, he had a blanket.”

“I don’t have a blanket?” I said, twisting my steel forehoof slightly and pointing to the blanket that had gotten bunched up against the railing of the bed.

Lamington chuckled. “His coat, mottling, a pattern that was called a ‘blanket’ by ponies before the War,” he explained. “It appeared rarely in ponies, but he was rare.”

“Was he the Star Paladin before you were?” I asked, already thinking about how the ranks worked. There were a lot of questions I could ask, about how the rank passed or if there could only be one Star Paladin. I’d wait though, it was more fun to watch him laugh and talk casually for once.

“Negative. My father was a Scribe.”

“I thought mares were Scribes and stallions were Knights or Paladins?”

“Prior to my generation, there were enough to do both,” Lamington answered. “He was Head Scribe and chief cook.” Leaning back, he placed a hoof over his belly and patted it a few times. “Marshmallow Sundae learned her craft via my father, before he passed. Her cooking is amazing, his was divine.”

“I hate to press, but... what happened?” I reluctantly asked.

“We aren’t quite sure,” Lamington answered somberly. “He seemed in good spirits one day, lively and cheerful. The next he complained of a headache. Then...” The stallion trailed off and looked away. He stood up and pushed the chair back to where it belonged at the far end of the room. “Then he was gone. There was nothing anypony could do.”

“I’m sorry...”

I shouldn’t have asked.

Lamington waved a hoof dismissively, reaching over and curling under my chin like my sister had many times before. Tilting my head up so I was looking at him, he just smiled at me. “I see us having plenty of time to learn about one another. There will be happy times and sad, whatever it was that killed him, it was quick.” His smile disappeared, slowly... “It was a more gracious death than he would have been given outside the Stable. For that I am happy.”

I could only nod against his hoof. I understood that. There were a lot of ponies I’d seen die, or killed myself. I’d been shot many times and hurt in ways I didn’t even want to remember. Given the choice, a headache and then being dead swiftly and hopefully painlessly, well, I’d take that over being strangled or having my limbs ripped off any day.

“Maybe I should try to grow a beard like him,” Lamington said, more to himself than me.

I sighed again. It was nice getting to know him better. Slumping a little, I let the full weight of my head rest against his hoof and I looked out the window. Past the pale yellow walls, and the little bumper along the wall that jutted out at haunch level, I could see the sky through the wide windows. We still had plenty of time to talk about happier things, after all. The clouds were darkening, but still looked fluff and imposing so high up in the air. But if it rained, we were safe inside.

As if on cue, a droplet hit the window.

“It’s raining,” I whispered.

Lamington said nothing, instead he lowered his hoof until I was resting on the pillow again. Reaching back with a hoof, he grabbed the chair and pulled it closer. As more and more droplets of rain splattered against the window, leaving behind a beautiful pattern of water splashed, he took a seat beside me. “Let’s watch for a while,” he suggested.

Rain had always been something to hide from, just in case it was the kind that had somehow absorbed some of the magical radiation that tainted the land. But we were safe inside, with a sturdy roof over our heads. The Steel Rangers had gone and the locals weren’t interested in the building yet. It was the perfect time to relax.

I lost track of how long we watched the soft rainstorm through the windows. It wasn’t heavy, and there wasn’t much in the way of thunder or lightning to bother us. Just quiet background noise as I worked my hoof around lying next to a stallion that I felt safe beside.

As the rain started to slack off, I heard something. Twisting my ear back, I listened.

A loud clacking, fast and frantic. Hooffalls on tile.

Lifting my head, I turned to face the door. It took a bit of work, but with some forced help from my right elbow, I managed to prop myself up. Another small victory. I looked at the door.

The sound of hooves got closer. Clacking in a canter, it echoed down the hallways. “Hello?” I yelled.

“Hidden, Lamington!” yelled my sister. The sound of her hooves stopped, just outside the door. I could hear her skidding along the checked pink tiles out in the hallway. Her hoof appeared in the doorway, followed by the rest of her body. It connected with the doorframe, stopping her in an instant. Her mane was matted down and her bandana drenched. Had she been outside?

“What’s wro-”

“We have a problem,” she interrupted. “The locals-”

A massive, ear-splitting BOOM cut her off. The explosion shook the building, jostling me painfully around and sending her off her hooves. The three of us exchanged glances.

Flailing my steel forehoof uselessly, I looked over to the wheelchair where it had been forgotten in the corner of the room. I needed to get to it, and we needed to get our stuff. Where was my jacket? Where was my battle saddle? “What’s going on?” I asked, already feeling out of breath.

A klaxon went off, blaring noisily. Lights in the hallway flashed in time with the droning alarm. It cut out a second later, replaced by a soft, but very loud, bing noise. “All personnel, please report to the second floor research lab. This is an emergency,” said Rose’s voice from the ceiling. How’d she do that?

“We need to group up and plan,” Lost said, telling neither of us what was actually going on.

“Allow me to don my power armor, and we’ll meet you there,” Lamington said, already standing up and moving toward the suit.

“Second floor, follow the signs,” Lost ordered. “It’s near the front of the building-”

The blaring klaxon erupted again, louder than before. Lights flashing behind my sister, she just sighed. She tapped the PipBuck on her forehoof.

Lamington didn’t need to be told twice. Before my sister could disappear down the hallway to go meet up with the others, he was already putting on his power armor.

“So much for a nice day,” I muttered to myself...

* * *

“Be smart,” Lost muttered to herself, staring out the window toward the center of The Cinch.

We were all inside the room, waiting to figure out how we’d deal with the locals. Well, all except our mysteriously absent changeling. While I was still stuck in the wheelchair, everypony else was huddled around a large table full to the edges with various clipboards, surgical tools, and a contraption for making drugs that made Xeno’s kit at our home look like a foal’s toy. On the opposite side of the room were several joined desks, jutting out from the wall with three workstations on each side. Papers and old unfinished works piled on the shelves at each station, left to rot when the world ended. Old terminals, shining sickly green glows into the room capped off the ends, with row after row of strange, upward pointing spikes behind them.

Wartime ponies sure decorated strange. Half the spike-things had jars and... what had Lost called them? Beakers? Whatever they were, dozens of them were hanging from the wall upside down. Was this where they made the healing potions?

I shook my head and looked back at the others.

Saccharin was pacing in the corner, going in little circles and talking to herself. Every so often she would stop and stare at the window toward the inside of The Cinch, then start walking again.

Lamington had put his armor back on and was silently watching the rest of us. Tim Tam had a similar reaction, standing like a statue next to the Star Paladin. He’d smiled and waved at me when we entered though, greeting me kindly. The way he talked, it was obvious his concussion had finally started to get better.

I wanted to wave back, but all I could do when Lamington wheeled me in was wiggle my steel forehoof.

Rose stood next to my sister at the window. She’d been busy since we’d seen her in the morning. Much like she promised to do before we arrived, she’d found her armor. She looked like she was wearing a Stable jumpsuit, but instead of the standard blue like Saccharin’s, hers was the same pale yellow as the building we were in. At her elbows, knees, and hocks were thick pads, held to the jumpsuit with thick stitching. Her forehooves were exposed, which made sense because even a unicorn medic pony would need to have their hooves accessible for emergencies. On her hind hooves were dark boots. What made it stand out was the vest she had over it all. It was light pink, almost as light as her coat, and covered in little dark grey, zippered pouches. It must have been bulletproof or something, since she had mentioned she was a field medic. Over her shoulders and haunches were thick, padded plates, which definitely stood out as armor. Finishing off the outfit was a pink and yellow patch on the collar of the vest, in the shape of a butterfly.

At least everything was the same color and style. That must have made her easy to identify as a medic.

“So, what’s going on?” I asked cautiously. I was just glad the klaxon alarm had stopped. It was making my ears ring.

“Locals,” Lost answered, without looking at me. She squinted, tilting her head and looking down to the ground a floor below us. Snapping her head to the side, she waved a hoof. “Brace yourselves, everypony. They’re going to-”

Another explosive BOOM rocked the building. Everything shook, shaking all of us in the room around. My wheelchair twisted around, jerking me side to side. Around us, papers and beakers shook and fell, smashing on the floor and sending glass everywhere.

I shied away, trying in vain to cover my eyes. My left foreleg did nothing, but my right one lifted just enough to be completely useless as a shield. Luckily, I couldn’t feel the small pieces of glass peppering my side. It could have been a lot worse. Twisting to look at my sister, I stared at her.

“Let me repeat. What in the Goddesses’ names is going on?” I shouted.

“They’re trying to blow the doors open,” Rose answered through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” I whispered. Was that all? “Why aren’t we doing anything to stop them?”

“I am,” Lost answered. She shifted her weight on her hooves. After only a moment, she walked down the line of windows, past the far side of the massive table, until she was at the far edge. She stared out the window. “They’re setting up another one.”

“Why isn’t anypony else worried?” I asked. “Saccharin and I seem to be the only ones freaking out.” When I mentioned her name, the Stable mare looked up at me, then hung her head back down and kept pacing. It would be nice to do the same, but all I could do was sit in my chair a