Victors of a Dark World

Prologue

(Fallout Equestria was originally created by Kkat, although reading the story is not required to understand this tale. Be warned! A bit gory here and there. Will flag sections that are particularly horrifying or mind-bending as appropriate. -SarahLong12)

"Chimi? Or cherrychanga?"

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful land in which ponies were happy, ponies wanted for nothing, and everypony lived together in peace and harmony. The princesses Celestia and Luna ruled over their little ponies day and night. It wasn't completely happy and carefree, of course. Sometimes friends quarrelled, sometimes magical beasts rampaged. But those conflicts were always resolved with a bit of outside help, or with strong friendships. In fact, Equestria was the best any species, whether it was ponies, griffins, zebras, minotaurs or diamond dogs, could ever get to an utopia.

Yet conflict was brought to the land of Equestria, and with it, war. The world as we once knew it was thrown into darkness, and the brightness of Equus was extinguished. Ponies turned to savagery and butchery. It wasn't hard to throw off the veil of politeness and murder their neighbour, if they really tried. And in the broken land beaten down by hatred and bombs, nopony was without blood-stained hooves. Even the kindest pony that you met in the wasteland had killed somepony once.

What started it, you might ask? Where...where did it all go wrong?

Let's not argue over the exact causes, whether him-or-her was responsible. Let's not point the finger-or hoof, rather-of blame at anypony.

Remember, when you point a finger at somebody, there's always three fingers pointing back at you. If you don't believe me, just examine your hands.

Got it? Good. Let's proceed.

---

   My name is Candy Treat.

   I run a mechanics business, RoboTreat.

   "Candy! Candyyyy!" a young unicorn hops up and down in front of me, trying to get my attention. I glance up to get a faceful of her curly bright green hair.

   "What is it?" I sigh, putting down The Encyclopedia of Guns. "And I've told you a thousand times to cut that mane of yours, young lady. One of these days you'll get it tangled in something serious and die."

   My adopted daughter bounces on her hooves, smiling nervously. "Weeeeelllll, um, about that..."

   "Yes?" I try for a smile. Margarine Treat seems to have the strangest ways of coming up with problems. It's almost like she has no luck at times.

   "I lost the scissors." Margarine whispers.

   "What?!" I gasp.

   The green-maned filly shivers involuntarily. "Well, I was out for a date," she hurries to explain. I express my exasperation with another sigh. Margarine, despite the fact she's supposed to help me run the shop, is always out with some colt. I disapprove heartily, as any pony would when they see their child come home with some slick colt who's the son of some bigwig in town. But in the end I always forgive Margarine. After all, at the end of the day, she is my daughter. I just wish she would conceal her make-out sessions better, or even better, not do them at all.

   "Margarine, you..." I huff. "You do know that pair of shears cost a lot of bottle caps, right?"

   She knows, of course. But I emphasize that point to make it a little sharper. "Margarine, please, stop skipping out on duty." I drone. I hate telling her this. I hate having to drill this point into her. But she doesn't do her job. She doesn't even seem to care about what we lose. I want her to grow up with a well-paying job and a comfortable life, not to be some...concubine to some rich buck.

   "Please, just listen to me, Margarine." I plead, even when I see Margarine's bright blue eyes darken as if a shutter is coming over her mind. "Margarine, I-"

   "Shut! Up!" the filly screams, rocking back and forwards on her hooves, punctuating each word with a stomp of her hoof. "I! Don't! Need! You! Telling! Me! What! To! Do!"

   I sit down hard on my rump, stunned. "GO AWAY, MOM!" my daughter shouts at me, anger in her eyes as she gazes at me. Some numb part of me observes her rapid change of mood. "MY BUCKFRIEND IS GOING TO TAKE CARE OF ME!"

   "Okay," I whisper softly, backing towards the back of the shop, tears tracing a wet path down my face. "Okay, then, I'll go. "

   "W-wait..." Margarine begins, already taking back her words, as she extends a hoof towards me. "Mom..."

   But I am already gone.

---

  The mares and bucks of the Crystal City are a fairly decent sort when they're not selling ponies into slavery, I muse, waving away a mare that tries to drape a blanket over me. Unfortunately for them, the last thing I want to be is to be treated (mind the pun)like a charity case. I had relocated my sorry self into a little corner so I wouldn't draw so many stares, that little corner being on the side of the Crystal City's plaza. However, if that was possible, I had drawn even more attention. Sadly, I'm too bone-weary to get up and find another spot. I don't care if I'm being melodramatic.

  Upon leaving my mechanics shop, I had luckily snagged my saddlebags in my disoriented and weary state. That gave me my usual set of power hooves and a bag of caps that I had used to buy some supplies. I allowed myself a moment to marvel at the amount of profit I had generated before breaking down into tears once more.

  "You look like you're in a bad state." a buck's voice announces.

  "No kidding, Sherclop." I mutter, wiping away my tears and staring down the buck towering above me. He has neatly groomed brown fur and a crystalline, near-transparent mane. A crystal pony, what a rarity. And judging by the two unicorns flanking him, he's also a wealthy one.

  "I have the perfect something to distract you from your sorrows." The pony goes on as if I hadn't said a word, the unicorn on his left producing a lumniscent projection from his horn, of another town shaded in topaz magic. "How would you feel about going to 'negotiate' with another city?"

  "Why are you asking me this?" I inquire sharply. He sounds like he's running a commercial, what with that confident, slimy attitude and ever-present smile.

  In short, I don't trust him.

  "Well, you are the Crystal City mechanic, right?" Mr. Commercial retorts, raising an eyebrow. "Think of this as an opportunity to broaden your horizons and get a very, very big bag of caps."

  I bristle inwardly at the fact he just called me uncouth. Outwardly, I regard him with a flat stare. "It better be worth my time."

  The buck smiles, his bodyguards hastily stepping to the side as he does a side twirl and reveals the mare in light armor behind him. For a moment, we lock eyes. Her wide grey eyes are huge in her face, and she quickly casts them down in favour of staring at the ground.

  "This is Ink Blot, and I hope you two get along, because you're going to help protect her as she travels to the Manepire!"

  What?