Title: “The Watchers”
Nuke shuffled through the wasteland, his green fur rippling in the toxic breeze. His hooves stepped lightly on the skeletal remains of creatures long lost to the war. He didn’t like walking here, among the fallen fluffy ponies, but Zeta always said it was their duty. It was the only way they could help rebuild the world.
Zeta stood silently by his side, his black armor blending into the shadows of the twilight sky. His mask hid his face, but Nuke could sense the same sadness in him. They were survivors, outcasts—remnants of a world consumed by madness.
Nuke’s nose twitched, catching the foul stench of decay. “Huhu wai so many foweba sweepies?” he murmured, eyes wide with sorrow as he stared at the pile of tiny bodies. “Dey du nuthin’ wong. Mummah do nuthin’ wong. Dis su heawt huwty.”
Zeta knelt beside him, his mechanical voice soft but firm. “Life isn’t fair, Nuke. Like us, they were survivors of human madness.”
The silence hung between them, thick with unspoken memories. Zeta, a soldier from a forgotten war, and Nuke, a mutant born from the fallout of that destruction. Both created for purposes they never chose, bound together by a world that had rejected them.
“Come,” Zeta said, placing a gloved hand gently on Nuke’s back. “Let us continue our surveillance of this area.”
Nuke sniffled, wiping his tears with a tuft of fur. “Wogew dat…” He tried to focus, pushing down the lump in his throat. This was what they did now—cleaning up the remnants of a war that left no victors, only ruins.
They walked deeper into the dead zone, past rusting machinery and charred trees. Every step they took felt like they were walking on the bones of the old world, one that had collapsed under the weight of its own arrogance.
But for all his sadness, Nuke found a strange comfort in Zeta’s presence. Zeta didn’t have to explain the things Nuke couldn’t understand—why the war had happened, why so many had died. It was enough that they were both still here, fighting in their own way to make things better.
They paused at the top of a hill, overlooking the wasteland stretching endlessly before them. The sunset bled into the horizon, casting an eerie glow over the barren landscape. For a moment, Nuke forgot about the sorrow, about the loss. He felt… at peace.
“We can’t change what happened,” Zeta said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “But we can help ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
Nuke nodded slowly, though he wasn’t sure he understood all of Zeta’s words. But he understood the feeling behind them. He wasn’t just a fluffy mutant wandering a broken world—he had a purpose, no matter how small.
Together, they stood in silence, watching as the first stars pierced through the twilight sky. Survivors. Watchers. The last witnesses to a war no one should remember, but that they could never forget.
The world was broken, but they were still here. And as long as they were, they would continue to do what they could to make it better.
One step at a time.
