Fallout Equestria

Chapter 30.

Virtues.

My first real advice, out of the Stable, was to find my virtue. Well, no, it was to find a weapon, armor and friends. And as daunting a task as that seemed, I believed I had succeeded admirably. It was the advice that followed -- to find that defining positive characteristic that would get me through the darkest horrors that the Equestrian Wasteland could throw at me without losing myself -- that still eluded me. Instead, I substituted other goals, other quests. I was driven to make this blasted world a better place, a brighter place, for the ponies trapped within it.

I felt all my efforts had just hit a wall.

Red Eye was just too smart, too devious and too well-organized. I underestimated him at every turn, and he used it against me with skill approaching panache. Even his seemingly insane claim to approaching godhood was backed by a crafty and altogether horrifying plan. The sheer cruelty, the coldly calculated butchering of unicorns in an act that would surpass murder, struck a blow to my very soul. And yet, I could already envision his argument: what is the suffering death of a few dozen or possibly even hundred unicorns today for generations of safety and peace for millions in the future?

I tasted bile.

The Goddess was... insane. And yet, she was effectively untouchable. Immensely powerful. And her army of minions, while considerably smaller in number than Red Eye's, were amongst the most formidable opponents in the entire wasteland. And they were completely devoted, if not directly controlled, by her whims. And her whims amounted to our extinction.

And she was such a potent telepath that even if I could come up with a plan, she would rip it from my mind before I could get close enough to her to implement it.

We were racing apotheosis. And we were losing.

I felt the darkness closing in oppressively. If ever I needed a virtue to hold to, it was now.

But even virtues could turn on you. They could go astray, become warped or perverted. Watcher had told me of the six greatest virtues of ponykind -- kindness, laughter, generosity, honesty, loyalty and magic -- although he made it clear that there were many others, and that my own was likely not on that sacred list. I had quipped that I could possibly collect broken, wrecked versions of each of these; I was doing far better at that, it seemed, than finding ponies of true virtue. Still, I had been joking.

Now I had met the Goddess, the thing that was Trixie, and I knew I had witnessed the epitome of the corrupted virtue of magic. All I needed to do was find corrupted kindness and I'd have a set.

{{OH, BUT YOU HAVE MET CORRUPTED KINDNESS, LITTLEPIP!}}

The cruel, sweet voice of the Goddess blasted through my head, swarmed with a chorus of whispers, mostly agreeing. The weight of her thoughts on my mind was heavy, almost suffocating.

{{IT'S YOU.}}

No! No that was not right. She couldn't be right.

I was better than that. I had to be better than that.

But even as I fiercely denied the Goddess' sadistic suggestion, my mind conjured up doubts and demons as if seeking to prove her right.

I had saved the slaves from Old Appleloosa only to abandon them to the care of a town that traded with slavers. I had slaughtered the raiders who raped and hunted that blue pony in Manehattan, only to walk away and leave her to her fate once the immediate threat had passed. How many more? How many other times had I inserted myself into a situation, tried to help, then left? Should I count all of Fillydelphia as a victim of my kindness? I remembered my image in the mirror, reflecting my soul. Was twisted kindness what I had seen there? Was it a monster?