//------------------------------// // 34: The best infiltrator you'll ever fucking meet! // Story: Halls of the Changeling King // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// “Uhhghhh...” Battlecry shifts on her back. Something is preventing her from moving, something covering her like a heavy blanket. Under her back there isn’t her soft bed, it can’t be. Floor maybe? Floor with something soft on it. Despite the unfamiliarity of the situation, she feels mellow, warm, and as she tries to move her hind legs which only twitch, a shiver of pleasure rushes from her nethers all the way up her spine, and leaves her as a slow moan. “Mhmmm...” Still, not being able to move is concerning enough to break through the fuzzy warm mist enveloping her mind. Finally, she opens her eyes, and confusion immediately takes over everything, at least until her memories start to trickle back into her head. There’s green goo everywhere, and a large sack lying on her belly. No… that’s not a sack, that IS her belly… saggy and without any of her previous fit tightness. She met Eight in the bathroom and… and… Battlecry shivers just from the faint memories of what Eight did to her. She loved it. Battlecry was just a needy egg sack to be filled to Eight, but the queen wasn’t rough, only unstoppable, not that she would ever want her to stop. And an indeterminate amount of time into their fun of filling, emptying, Eight toying with Battlecry’s mind, the dwarf passed out. She shivers again, biting her lip at the realization. Eight certainly didn’t stop when Battlecry was unconscious. Eggs… she was full of eggs at some point. Eggs which slipped out of her eventually, making her pass out again from ecstatic sensory overload. There are broken eggshells around, and she can hear noisy crunching everywhere. She must have given the mind-blowing birth quite recently. Gathering the fragmented pieces of her mind still floating on cloud nine, Battlecry finally tries to push herself up into a sitting position again, resolved to ignore her trembling forelegs. It takes a while, and as she finally sits up, she sighs at the sight of how floppy and flabby her stomach really is now. She must have been like a ball. She realizes that the persistent crunching has stopped with her movement. After wiping the gunk from her eyes, she gasps. There are one… two… three… eleven tiny changelings who are staring at her as one. They are even smaller than Six, the… drone, was it? Battlecry doesn’t dare shake her head to clear the mist inside there, but she would do a lot right now to be able to think properly. Did Eight simply fuck her brains out? She chuckles, and all eleven changelings twitch and grin. The shiver that runs down Battlecry’s spine isn’t a pleasant one this time. They might be small even when compared to a dwarf, but their teeth are sharp like tiny daggers. If she had to guess, they might reach up to her neck if standing up. Hey, that one still has a piece of a shell on his head! “Umm, hi,” she croaks. The changelings tilt their heads. The eggshell drops. The nearest changeling chomps it, “I… I think… I’m your mom.” One changeling starts sniffing the frog of her hind leg. Another, more courageous one, climbs atop her soft belly, curls up and yawns. “Alright, you’ll be Curly, you Sniffy,” she pouts when one begins gently nibbling on her left foreleg propping her straight, “You’re not going to be my favorite, Nibbles.” She lets herself slowly back down onto the goopy carpet, and finds herself almost immediately surrounded by crawling changelings. “Damn… eleven on the first try. I won’t be walking straight for weeks. I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” she decides to test something, booping Curly’s nose, “Do you react to your name, Curly?” then she boops Sniffy, “Sniffy?” all changelings raise their heads, “Curly?” all changelings raise heads again, “Sniffy?” again. Come to think of it, they are supposed to share information and minds in some way, but this feels much different from how the king, Eight, and Five acted during group trainings. These guys, though… they feel as if they were a singular entity. One mind in eleven bodies, a mini hive mind? Well, they ARE smaller than anyone else, which might be just their recent birth. And they are all numbered, not named. “You know, I’ve changed my mind. How about I call you Eleven, all eleven of you?” The changelings- or the changeling grins- grin. Stupid insufficient language. Then they all perk up as one, and turn their heads towards the door. In somewhat horrified fascination, Battlecry watches the small mob that is Eleven leave the bedroom, which is followed by the sound of the outside door opening and closing. “They grow up so fast...” Battlecry snickers, breathing out and closing her eyes. She can feel Eight’s venom still inside her, that’s what causing the fuzzy pink mist behind her forehead. She just needs to sleep it off. The door opens again, and a pile of changeling comes back with twenty-two hugging legs. Some gentle squeezing later, Eleven is gone again. Smiling from ear to ear, Battlecry gives up on ever questioning anything again, and passes out. *** Eleven runs through unknown halls of the unknown angular place while many ponies are rushing in different directions. Everything is loud and big, but in the distance, there is the faint lure of a powerful mind which he needs to find in order to make sense of things. He doesn’t know much. Some basic instructions on how to move, how to answer the call of the hive mind, and maybe, if he had time he could figure out how to transform, but not much else. That’s why it’s crucial to get to the shining mental beacon growing closer with every passed pony. Dwarf, they are dwarves. The faint trickle of information via the branching hive link is slow, so Eleven is gaining knowledge at glacial pace. That, however, isn’t too concerning. The mind calling out needs him- her- them… him is easy, let’s keep that identification, no matter how meaningless it is in Eleven’s case. Eventually, Eleven reaches an enormous plaza with a wide bridge teeming with armed dwarves leading up to a castle. ‘The mind’ is on the other end, but it’s moving away. Running around, under, or in some cases over the backs of dwarves, Eleven reaches the open castle gate and enters significantly quieter halls the floor of which is much softer on the tiny hoofsies. Carpet, it’s called carpet. One saw shape made of stone- Staircase. -staircase made of stone later, Eleven spots a HUUUUUGE changeling. She- Eleven runs around the changeling while three Elevens start bouncing up and down in front of the changeling to have- Yep! The Eleven under and behind the big changeling affirms that the big changeling is a mare. Okay, let’s start over. The changeling mare is positively massive, and the three Elevens jumping in front of her can barely reach her knee. As tall as she is, she’s also incredibly broadly build, not entirely bulging with muscles, but radiating raw strength. Unlike Eleven whose chitin is pitch black, this changeling’s carapace leans towards blue-ish hue. The thing is… she ISN’T the mind drawing Eleven here. She finally looks down. “WHAT IN MY GLORIOUS BEARD ARE YOU?!” she roars, revealing teeth which could go through every Eleven’s skull in their entirety each.. Eleven backs off before the sound wave of sheer brute force, quickly listing through his very limited knowledge for the meaning of beard. She… doesn’t have any. Maybe she wants one and can’t have it? She needs cheering up. Three Elevens hug each of the mare’s forelegs, climbing over each other to get higher. The others use the moment of her shock to get on her back where they lie down and hug whichever tiny part of her bright blue secondary armor plating they can reach. A single Eleven starts playing with the mare’s long, unkempt mane. “I AM NOT USED TO FEELING HUGGABLE! HELP, THIS ABOMINATION HAS DOZENS OF LEGS!” the mare screams again, although at this point Eleven starts thinking that it’s her normal volume of speaking. “Let’s go,” says a firm voice which doesn’t hurt Eleven’s ears. He turns his free heads around, and the bodies hugging big blue’s legs jump down to see who’s talking. THAT is the mind. This changeling is a dwarf-sized mare, her black chitin criss-crossed with gashes and scars. She looks skinny and hungry, but her mind is sharp like… like… as sharp as big blue is loud. Eleven pats himself on the back, literally, for finding the proper metaphor. Unlike big blue, though, the small lady’s tail is short, red, and covered in grime and ash just like her mane. Come to think of it, one of her eyes is milky white. Is that one blind? One Eleven tries to hug the small red, but she shoves him away. “Not now.” There’s no animosity in her voice, just steel firmness giving the clear signal that there’s something far more important to do than comforting right now. As big blue and Eleven follow small red, he feels mental instructions flowing into his heads. Those are for… Ummm… ...some tiny changes? Inside? Eleven can’t identify what the process does, but applies it to all his bodies. The three and at the same time thirteen changelings end their ascent through the castle followed by a descent into a tunnel in front of a cave-in, small red growls, making Eleven uneasy. There are muffled noises coming from behind the cave-in, and Eleven can sense several chaotic minds there as well. “Damn it! That’s what I get for taking the fastest route. What fucking idiot collapsed the damn ceiling?!” Small red tries to pull a rock away, and manages to dislodge a small one as well as cause the more to drop, having to dodge by jumping backwards. “ROCKS, ROCKS?!” yells big blue, the volume making Eleven’s eyes cross in such small space, “I WAS PROMISED CAKE!” Big blue shapeshifts her hoof into a spike, and slams it into the biggest rock she can reach, which splits into pieces immediately. Eleven goes to help, working in pairs to drag the fragments away. “Get in the back, you’re just slowing her down,” orders small red. Eleven doesn’t even dream of disobeying, and all of him rushes back, deeper into the tunnel. Big blue starts punching rocks like a frenzied sledgehammer. At first, more come with each impact, but soon she starts clearing everything. After a while, she takes several steps backwards, and in a burst of fire she grows a set of armor-plated horns on her head which gets covered in thick scales. “ROOAAAAAAAAARRR!” The deafening shout accompanies an explosion of rocks as big blue finally breaks through the cave in, the scatter sending many strange black and squiggly equines flying away into a depth. “ALL YOUR BASE IS BELONG TO US!” big blue crushes the nearest confused squiggly into paste. More information flows into Eleven’s mind this time. Names, mostly. Three is the shaking drone lying on the floor, covering his eyes with his forelegs in such panic that he didn’t even register big blue… Cryo breaking through the cave-in. Seven is the changeling with glowing horn, barely standing steady on his legs as he keeps teleporting more and more… Twisted over the edge of the cliff. Gem, the changeling mare streaked with grey has just spat on a Twisted near her whose head melts under the saliva. Five… Five has just been slammed against the floor by a big Twisted’s tentacle so hard that scraps of her chitin got scattered round. She coughs blood, but before she can get up, the Twisted is back on her, about to stomp her head to paste. Five barely rolls out of the way, and gets kicked away instantly into a group of more swarming Twisted. “I’m baaaaack, and I brought whatever this is,” says small red… Two, nodding at one of Elevens. A nearby Twisted who got through Seven’s magic opens its mouth to snaps its jaws at Gem who yelps and stumbles, falling on the floor. Eleven has no orders, but there’s one simple decision to make. Eleven might not have strength, size, or stamina, but he’s got teeth. Five Elevens jump on the Twisted attacking Gem, his teeth tearing and crunching bones and flesh. Another five rush over to help Five choking under a pile of vomited worms. One Eleven stays behind to keep an eye on the battle. Suddenly, Eleven hears a distinct voice in his heads. ”Where’s the boss, and where is my mother?” asks Two, ”And USE THE FREAKING SHAPESHIFTING INSTRUCTIONS, IDIOTS!” ”What is it?” asks Five, kicking a Twisted off of herself. ”Cure for the Twisted virus,” says Two with growing urgency, ”FIVE, WHERE ARE DAD AND MOM?!” Every changeling does it on reflex without any visible change. Gaining a moment of peace thanks to Cryo’s intervention as she cleaves and grinds suddenly afraid Twisted by whole groups, Five points at the big Twisted she was fighting- losing against before. ”THAT used to be Eight, and that,” she points at a strange Twisted just standing nearby and staring at the floor as his tentacles wave around, ”and THAT was the boss.” “I leave you alone for few days...” growls Two. ”Three, I need you!” her mental voice breaks through Three’s stupor. ”T-Twooooaah?” Three’s eyes bulge as one Eleven breaks away from fighting and joins the remaining Eleven in lifting trembling Three and bringing him towards Two. ”Go to dad.” ”But- but he’s-” ”Go to him, and hug him. He’s been by your side in good and bad. Don’t betray him,” Two frowns at such cheap emotional manipulation, but it works on Three who grits his teeth, and runs towards the hesitant Twisted, hugging his legs. He opens his maw filled with rows and rows of teeth to snap Three’s neck, but stops. The second is all Two needs as she isolates the mind from the mass of the Twisted, and rams the immune system transformation instructions directly into the boss’ head. And that’s it. No fighting, no roar, no grunting and groaning, only a simple burst of flames which burns away the monstrous features of the Twisted, and leaves behind scarred, rather smooshed, and incredibly confused boss. Three jumps straight at his head like the cuddliest happy little facehugger in history. Five flies by, and with a sickening crunch bounces off of the rock wall. She doesn’t get up anymore. The overbearing Twisted who supposedly was Eight rams into Cryo, sending the bigger ancient queen rolling away ”Stop, Eight.” She keeps punching Cryo with everything she’s got, and I sense respect and worry from the surprisingly simple mind for a queen. ”Eight, stop! I know Two got through to you-” “...well, I didn’t, really...” mutters Two. ”-I won’t lose you like this.” Ex-Eight kicks massive Cryo away so hard she skips on the floor, scattering Twisted previously shaken by Cryo’s assault away like bowling pins. On the bright side, it does clear a good chunk of the platform. I wish I could gather my breath, but there’s no time. Taking a page from One’s book, I just spin Three around my head, and tackle Eight from the side. >YOU BELONG TO ME AND NOT TO SOME FUCKING TAPEWORM!< The Twisted under me writhes, and snaps her jaws to rip my throat out. What it ends as is a simple boop by Eight’s nose. She blinks. ”Are those fucking Two and Cryo?!” she chokes. ”We’re not fucking, but it’s us!” answers Two. ”I’ll forgive the language this time, young lady, just because mom started it!” I snicker, unable to comprehend the absurdity of the situation. An ancient queen I know only from the memory of Eight ripping her head off, Two is back, and Three, Seven, and Gem are alive due to unbelievable bravery of Five who is now- Oh shit! ”THREE, HUG FIVE,” I order, ”Whatever that changeling… changelings… why do they have only one mind? Nevermind. Eleven, carefully grab the two and run up the tunnel with them. Leave the scanning equipment here. Seven grab the laser gatling. Eight, Cryo, cover the retreat!” I was expecting at least Cryo to argue, but nothing of that sort happens. As the Twisted see us retreating, they regain courage faster and those previously still climbing up the ravine wall resume their progress. ”Three, can we collapse the tunnel again?” ”Yep!” all of us immediately receive the map of points of the tunnel to hit. ”Eight, Cryo. Do the honors.” *Thud!* *Thud!* Aaaand we’re all deaf and coughing dust... ...but safe. All of us. Alive. Actually, more of us than before. ”Gem, Three, get Five to safety and do ANYTHING so that she doesn’t die. Tell Six. Fighting Eight to the death isn’t something you do twice. Eight, you start thinking of the biggest cannon we can give her for what she did today. Maybe a gun that shoots more guns or something. She deserves it,” as they rush off, I stop for a second, thinking, ”First, we tell Granite what happened, then, once Five is stable, there’s a public bath in Brauheim. You,” I point at Eleven, then at Eleven, and then at three more Eleven, ”I mean all of you, stay around me.” *** With a wet squelch, Two’s long drop from the grand bridge finally ends. “STOP THROWING YOUR TRASH DOWN HERE!” screams a voice which even through her slipping consciousness sounds deafening. Two’s body lurches to the side as she hears a faint hiss of something burning, and the stench of a pyre made of rotting flesh makes her gag. Strangely enough, that clears her mind for a moment to realize that her twisted and tentacled body touched the floating magma around, and shoved her away onto some black, glassy ground. She should be baking here. It shouldn’t matter that she landed on some weird outcropping or something, she should still be sizzling like a bug on a frying pan, but she isn’t. She can feel a mind nearby. There shouldn’t be anyone here. She made sure of it. No one should be going after her and risk infection from those… things. Reaching into the mind, she finds… instructions. Fragmented, broken, makeshift instructions regarding a set of transformations. ”...maybe burning love… will make this… quicker...” The mind is surprisingly simple, as if the only thing that mattered to it was the transformation. Two gathers the strength and clarity she doesn’t want to have. She did everything to stop herself from being a threat, but it looks like she still needs to do more. She can’t control her body much anymore, and even if she could, the tentacles clearly showed they won’t let her roll over into magma. Having no better idea on how to make her end faster, she tries the shapeshifting process. Atom after atom, molecule after molecule, green fire eats away at her monstrous, black, wriggling flesh, making it melt and evaporate while replacing it with chitin. Her immune system is working overtime to accommodate the strange changes which drain her strength, but also revitalize her by purging all the disgusting foreign mess out of her. In short, the tentacles fall off, her chitin returns, albeit in bruised, battered, and broken form, and when she finally finds the strength to roll over, she throws up black goo all over the weird ground. How long did it take? She has no idea. It could have been minutes, it could have been days. Eventually, though, the heat from her left proves too much to handle, and forces her to shuffle to the colder place to the right. Cold… actual cold… Here? The strangeness of it all is enough to make her finally push herself up. “...wha…?” She’s on a several ponies wide platform near the bottom of one of the many pillars holding the grand bridge up. The platform is made of black, uneven and sometimes jagged glass, and in its center… ...is a block of ice, a small, crystal clear glacier with the biggest changeling Two has ever seen frozen in its center up to her neck. “...who… are you…?” “PASTRIES ARE THE BEST SOURCE OF LOVE!” Two clutches her head at the changeling’s voice. “...I… I don’t… understand...” “THE MOON IS FULL OF LIES!” “Owww… my ears...” Two drags herself towards the block of ice, and curls up by its side, “I just need… a little… rest.” “SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!” “Why… why are you here? Who are you…?” “IS THIS AN INTERROGATION?! I’M NOT USED TO SO MANY QUESTIONS. NOTHING FOR CENTURIES, AND NOW THIS! I’M JUST ONE DAY FROM RETIREMENT! WAIT, WHAT WERE YOU ASKING? I FORGET A LOT THESE DAYS,” the changeling glaring at Two blinks, “HEY, YOU ARE A CHANGELING! ARE YOU A DWARF PRETENDING TO BE A CHANGELING? ARE YOU A ROBOT PRETENDING TO BE A CHANGELING?” Two simply waits and breathes, examining the changeling’s hive link. She closes her eyes, and slips into the hive mind. She’s too weak to reach out to anyone. Hole, she’s barely conscious enough to connect to this strange changeling. She’s old, far older than Two can even imagine, and she must have been on ice for most of that time. Ice which isn’t something chemical or external, but a manifestation of the changeling’s strength given physical form. How that works, Two has no idea, but she did sense something similar from Eight, just pure power coming from physical perfection manifesting itself in a strange way. How the changeling is fighting the heat of the magma all around, and presumably has made this obsidian island a long time ago… Two admits she’s way over her head in everything. The hive mind is empty. ”Umm… hello?” Two looks around the darkness of the hive mind. While the changeling certainly can’t hurt her in the real world, her intentions here could be different, ”Is anyone here?” ”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” the changeling appears some two pony lengths above the ‘floor’, and drops, ”Hey, who turned the lights off? Why can I move? It’s warm here. My head hurts...” Two realizes that as physically powerful as the changeling is, her mental ability is barely existent, and she breaks the connection. “I SAW TWO OF YOU FOR A WHILE!” “Can you… can you stop yelling?” “CAN YOU HEAR QUIETER?” “Just… just be quiet for a moment. I… I think I know what to do.” Two puts her hoof against the ‘ice’, and smiles. She was wrong, it isn’t some mystic nonsense. It’s changeling goo made to be ice, infused with love, many… many kinds of love. The love of a whole hive given freely to keep their… queen on ice. The queen who knew how to stop the infestation of the strange creatures Three released. The love resists being taken, but Two doesn’t need much. After all, she’s young and physically undeveloped. “HEY, THAT’S MY CAKE!” yells the queen, pouting as she watches a small section of her ‘ice’ melt under Two’s touch, “WHY AM I UP TO MY NECK IN CAKE?” She has nearly no love inside her. Why? Why is she here? Another realization stemming from Two’s understanding of the ancient queen’s mind comes to the infiltrator as she looks through the thinner layer of ice at her body. The queen is infested, heavily infested. Once again, why? She knows how to cure it, clearly, so she must have gotten to know the cure after she lost the ability to use it. “Hey,” says Two, “I think I might be able to help you, but you can’t panic. I’m still too tired to do be forceful.” “I CAN SEE MY HOUSE FROM UP HERE!” “I’ll take that as a yes.” Once again, Two digs into the queen’s mind. It really is similar to touching Eight, but where Eight had her single-minded focus on boss’ orders, this changeling is just a big, bulky warrior queen, rather easy to take control of. Two stops herself from going too far, and begins applying the infestation cure to the queen, which fails instantly. “Ohhh...” Two suddenly understands, “You froze your body to stop the spread so that you had time to figure out the cure. That’s… amazing,” she breathes out. The queen is clearly a warrior, and she must have known it at the time. She must have known she wasn’t smart enough to figure out a cure in time, so she used brute force, her resilience, to make more time. “MY LEGS TICKLE!” “Oh, damn!” Two reminds herself that she’s been draining the love from the block of ice goo, making it disappear, and cycling it back into the queen while refilling herself a little as well. Now comes the difficult part - taking control of the queen’s body and mind to apply the cure again. This time it works, and along with the melting ice, all the usual tentacle-y and wormy bits get burned away in blue fire releasing the queen’s true form. “Heh, the blue effect looks much better then my green one-” Two’s eyes bulge as she realizes she’s being held high in the air by two hooves, each the size of her head, while under examination from a piercing blue stare of the ancient queen, “Umm, nice to meet you?” “THIS RED POTATO IS NOT ONE OF MINE!” “Pot- red- no, I’m a changeling. My boss is up there in the dwarf city,” she looks up, but can’t point due to the queen’s immobilizing grip. “MY POTATO IS OLD AND WONKY!” with the subtlety of an industrial crane, the queen draws Two back into the hive mind. “Way better,” she finally says in a volume compatible with keeping ears in one piece, “It seems like I’ve been asleep for way too long, and what’s left of me… isn’t exactly worth the upkeep.” “You’re a changeling queen, aren’t you?” asks Two, curiosity defeating her worries for a moment. “I used to be. My name was Cryo, or… I suppose still is, considering you’ve repaired my physical body.” “What do you mean? You’re here, and your body is okay… if you don’t count yelling a lot.” “Heh, you’re too young to know how we changelings work, and I’m too stupid to figure out how to use my current form. You see, I’m a… reflection, a hive mind memory stored in this old Cryo’s whole body, but the real me inside the brain is old, derelict, and… dumber than a rock, really. If I was a good infiltrator or something, I might be able to win the control of the body from the real me, but… quite honestly… I don’t think I’d want to anyway.” “Why?” “Do you like stories?” “Yeah, a lot!” Two smiles. “Well, we’ve got time for a short one before this island gets washed away by magma, since my ice isn’t keeping it cold anymore. I don’t know if I’ll be able to contact you like this again, so listen and think about questions at the same time. Neither of us are good enough at mind tricks to stop time in here completely.” Cryo takes a deep breath, and when she speaks again, her voice sounds urgent, as if trying to impart something she won’t have a chance to repeat. “Chrysalis was a fool to continue her mother’s crusade to dominate the world under changeling rule. All of us high-generals understood it after our defeat at Canterlot, and we scattered, keeping our close followers as new hives. Most of us just wanted to hide, knowing that instead of uniting the world under our rule, we united them against us. Shadowstep was the only one who believed in Chrysalis’ plan, but she wasn’t there. Griffons, ponies, zebras, dragons, minotaurs… everyone except the damn dwarves defended the royal city, and in that battle we saw our future. Hole, griffons and ponies were in an off-and-on war forever until we came. Shadowstep sent help, but she couldn’t spare enough, because her sustained campaign against the griffons led to the union of the military of the fractured forces. I hope the griffons pissed on her corpse when they got her. If she supported us against Chrysalis, it would have been all high ranks against the queen, and maybe… maybe we could have salvaged something.” “I… I don’t know anything you’re talking about. Names, places… anything,” Two looks Cryo in the eyes. “Just listen. We fled north, having heard legends of an artefact able to amplify love. Soon, though, we were hunted by Chrysalis’ changelings, hives of the other escaping generals who wanted love, and of course everyone else. There weren’t many of us who got this far and we didn’t find the legendary artefact, but we found the dwarves, infiltrated them, and used them to recover. However, we didn’t want to be a part of their society. We wanted a place of our own, so we dug deeper, and found… the machines.” “Machines?” “Yes. Broken but still talking equine machines who needed our help - the dwarves.” “Wait, dwarves live up there in a big city, and they look normal… not mechanical at all.” “Shush. They told us about a war they’ve been locked in for millennia, war spanning the whole continent going on underground. You see, they didn’t start as machines, they used to be normal small ponies, but the enemy they fought was able to infest their biological bodies, and turn those into more of themselves. Twisted, they called the monsters. After a massive undertaking of their scientists, they found a way to transfer their minds into machines, eliminating the enemy advantage. Unfortunately, it took too long - fighting, burning bodies, clearing every inch of an underground network the size of which even we changelings couldn’t believe. The dwarves were almost victorious in their war, but they screwed up. They bred more and more dwarves only to transfer their minds into more machines, and in the end they lost everything that made them who they were. By the end of the war, anyone unwilling to transfer their mind was imprisoned, and the dwarves began indoctrinating new generations from birth. The minds of the those, however, were weak, having been trained only to fight from early age, nothing but sets of combat instructions poured into machines which degraded faster and faster. The situation reached critical mass here in the north, so close to victory. Unable to finish the purge due to their soldiers shutting down mid-fight, the dwarves and Twisted met in a final battle which left the Twisted in retreat, so the dwarves locked them in an old shaft, and spent all their remaining time preparing a system by which they could keep the Twisted sealed from anyone with bad or uncertain intentions.” “Which is why the seal opened for Three...” Two breathes out, “He doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body.” “Which brings us to my hive. The dwarves asked us only two things. First, they needed us to scour the underground for any solitary Twisted the ancient combat force didn’t manage to purge. Those things supposedly didn’t move much unless they spotted a target, so they wouldn’t have spread too far despite the final battle happening so long ago. We received the technology to find and fight them. Second, they wanted us to release the prisoners from the nearby prison so that they could continue the real dwarven race. We found out that the dwarves in the nearby city were the descendants of those who already escaped from the prison, so we went hunting.” “I suppose that the next part leads to you getting infested by those… Twisted, right?” Two tilts her head. “Well, I wanted it to be the big reveal, but I’ve never been much of a brain, so it makes sense for you to come to that conclusion sooner than I wanted,” Cryo huffs. “You know, don’t take it as an insult, but I thought you’d be more haughty as a queen.” “I’ve had time to think about what I did right and what I did wrong. I’m much more a puncher than a thinker, which also leads us rather nicely to why I was sitting for some seven hundred years on ice.” “You found the Twisted,” Two winks at her. “Stop that, smartass!” Cryo gently smacks Two over the head, which of course means that the shove makes the vastly smaller changeling do a cartwheel in the air. Thankfully, doing this inside the hive mind isn’t too damaging, “Yes, we found them, and no, there weren’t many of them. Unfortunately, while we had some protective equipment, we weren’t good at ranged combat, so after our weapons stopped shooting light, in the heat of the battle I had the bright idea to order a charge,” Cryo closes her eyes, and wipes a tear, “I had to kill my entire hive as they infested each other. They gave me more love than I could hold, but I had to. I destroyed every single body, threw each of them into the lava.” “Magma.” “What?” “Lava is the black stuff that’s cold. Magma is the flowing, red, hot death around us.” “Screw you!” Cryo scowls, but thaws as Two leans against her foreleg and nuzzles it, “Oh… well… nevermind then. So, in the end, I jumped off of the bridge too. Unfortunately, or maybe not, my infested ass was so full of love of my whole hive that when I dropped, it glassed a small island. Cryo isn’t just a random name. I was good at punching and freezing stuff. Well, when all the love inside me refused to give up and die, I used everything to freeze myself, to stop everything going in my body, only leaving my head so that I could think and figure out how to remake my immune system to defeat the infestation. In the end, I grew senile and degraded too much to be able to use it on myself, or to even remember what I was doing...” she punches the air victoriously, “But I damn well did it! We stopped the scattered Twisted, and I found the cure. If there’s the best changeling hive in history, it’s me! Choke on a dragon dick, Shadowstep!” Two starts feeling rather hot, even her in the darkness. “Umm… what’s going on?” she asks. “Oh right, the platform we’re on is melting,” Cryo shrugs, “Anyway, it’s good to know what I did won’t be useless, and if at some point you manage to restore my senile self’s mind… be nice to the grandma, she’s been through a lot.” Real world returns, Cryo grabs Two with one foreleg, and shoots up just as the obsidian island breaks into pieces. “IT’S A CLOUD! IT’S A FLY! NO, IT’S A SUPERBUG!” *Crunch!* Blinking after hitting the cavern’s ceiling, Cryo redirects her sudden drop onto the grand bridge. “HA HAA! STILL FLYING! OR WHY IS EVERYTHING SPINNING?” Two tries to reach out for other changeling minds, but can’t connect to anyone, although she does catch some overall uneasiness. “How long was I out, and what went wrong this time?” she rolls her eyes.