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// Ponce De Leon Never Searched for the Fountain of Youth. The Story was Made up After his Death to Make him Look Like an Idiot. They Succeeded. 
// Story: I Blame You, Too 
// by Whitestrake 
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$%$%$% Taylor's POV $%$%$%

“You want to what!?” Cadence wasn't mad, really; she was just... a little put off at my idea. Shining Armor, who stood next to her, had a look of equal disbelief on his face. He seemed a bit more open to the idea, though, given our history. You know, I kind of saved the lives of his wife and little sister. “What enemy could possibly justify killing innocents?”

“Cadenza, we assure you genestealer cultists are far from innocent, and every moment we delay, they grow in number and power.” We did not refer to our group, but rather to the multitude of changelings that worked around the city, using clothes and sunlight for heat. My consciousness, my personality, was decentralized and part of the hive mind. I was part of Chrysalis, and Chorion, and her brood, and each of them was part of me. I, for all intents and purposes, did not exist, nor did any of the other changelings for that matter, we were simply we. “If we scan every crystal pony, we can prevent the destruction they will surely cause.”

“Say I allow it, how do you plan on doing this?” I, or, We, knew what we could do. The solution was simple and easily executed due to the lack of anything resembling an opinion within the Crystal Hive. Our minds were heavily at work attempting to find a way to remedy the situation, and we came up with a batter version of my original plan. Instead of corralling the entire population in the city square, we could set up small zones around the city and man them with changelings who would then scan their minds in search of genestealer sympathies or anything resembling our own structure.

“We will divide and conquer until the parasites are cleansed from this world and beyond.” We meant this, because purging the Skyward Valkyrie was the next step in ensuring Equus was safe. We would figure out what to do with the Imperials after I separated and could think clearly and as myself. “We will allow none of your untainted subjects to come to harm.”

“You aren't making use of the Crystal Guard?” Armor asked, possibly offended we had no such desires. They were unneeded, superfluous, probably just get in the way. But the truth was they were under just as much suspicion as anyone else.

“Shining Armor, we are already searching within their minds.” Tact did not exist in the hive mind as there was no need for it. Every consciousness was open to every other, and each of us had the choice to disconnect and reconnect whenever we wished. I personally enjoyed my privacy too much to like being part of something so huge, no matter how free my mind actually was.

$%$%$% Amos's POV $%$%$%

Shining Armor did not like what Taylor had to say, and I liked Taylor's behavior even less. He was acting as the center of the changeling hive mind, like a Tyranid synapse beast, though he seemed in control of himself, for now. He was doing exactly what no human psyker had ever done on a large scale: meld his mind with thousands of others. This was something out of a horror story about trained alpha-plus psykers. Did this bolster his strength or weaken it? So many minds would function as a massive brain, but tapping into the Warp may short every neuron in that massive collective.

“We allow you to come to the Crystal Empire in something from a sci-fi movie, and now you're scanning my guardsponies like they're some kind of book?” The white stallion looked angry, and rightfully so. Most Imperial Guard generals would have been just as furious if the Inquisition forced their men into service and drew them from an important battle. The pink one, Cadence, lifted a hoof to silence her husband.

“I understand what you have said, that these beasts are a true danger to the Empire and Equestria, but your actions seem too extreme, Taylor.” Her voice was serene, as though she wished to level with him, but there was also a stern quality hidden behind the silk that allowed no argument. However, I knew enough about Taylor to understand he wasn't the sort to back down once. “I simply cannot allow this.”

“We are afraid this is merely our way of telling you what we plan to do; Equestria is in danger and this is under the jurisdiction of the Inquisition.” His voice was monotone, as though he was sure of his superiority on this subject. It was also the creepiest I have ever heard anyone speak, and I've heard an Inquisitor Lord give a sermon on why the mutant must be shunned. “With or without your permission, we will do as we see fit.”

“After all we've been through, you can't ignore your gut for ten seconds and listen to reason?” Cadence seemed to be referencing something I did not know about, possibly after the war Taylor seems to bring up quite a bit.

“Princess, we've come a long way to roast some bugs. Like it or not, we've got to kill them before they spread.” The Pyromaniac was a much smaller man than I expected him to be. He wore a black jumpsuit with red splotched in a camouflage pattern, but was of average height and small musculature. Oddly, he didn't have burn scars like I expected. “It's a cancer that must cut out.”

“I agree with them, Cadence, even if I am grateful for your hospitality.” The bird-cat thing, Jacques the Ripper, was something called a griffin. His front claws were metal, and he seemed a bit obsessed with combat, even if he was calm for the moment. He was also the only nonpony I had seen wearing Inquisition colors, and he had the same full mask Taylor wore with his suit. “We are within our right, as much as I wish not to side with them for the sake of our friendship.”

“Perhaps it will not come that.” Taylor's eyes were unfocused, and he seemed almost pained by something, like a fleabite or prick from a needle, a small flinch that was almost imperceptible. I knew he was representing all changelings in the city, as Chrysalis bore the same expression, but this was more than a bit creepy. “Twelve of us were just killed in the tunnels beneath the Blue Sky Bathhouse. Thirteen. Fourteen.”

“Genestealers?” Dahl asked, readying his sword.

“We do not know.” Skully looked up at Cadence, complete enraptured by whatever he saw through the eyes of uncountable changelings. Everything about this world was just getting stranger the longer we spent on it, and the sooner we killed the genestealers, which seemed to be active at that very moment, the sooner we could kill Ophidia and be done with it. “We trust we may leave to avenge our fallen?”

“Just go; we will discuss more once you are yourself.” The pink alicorn seemed relieved that there would not be innocent blood spilled today. In the time it would take us to root out the vile Tyranids, she would likely run her own scans of her citizenry and attempt to devalue Taylor's right to defend Equestria.

“Jay, you are to remain with Cadence and Shining Armor; Dahl, Amos, and Jaqcues will follow me. Chrysalis, you are to protect the Elements until their worth is determined.”

$%$%$% Taylor's POV $%$%$%

We, meaning the group I chose to accompany me, marched through the dank tunnels that ran beneath the city. My helmet’s vision modes allowed me almost perfect sight in the near complete darkness, though our many eyes benefited me much more. Thirty changelings had met their end, and every time we were unable to ascertain what the killer or killers looked like. This was not a cave-in or natural gas leak; it was much to abrupt and continuous for that. The blank spot of death was also on the move.

We passed a corpse almost immediately, though it was several minutes old by that time. It had been ripped in two, shredded along its midsection. We were saddened at its passing, but understood it died for the whole. We, the group, marched more slowly then, with Jacques and I keeping point, we were close-quarters specialists, and it would take more than two genestealers to kill us. Hopefully. Dirt changed to brick as we entered the more cultured part of the undercity which meant we were near the higher-end districts. There was a distant roar, or another of us ceased to be.

The group ran then, hoping to catch whatever killed one of us. The bricks here were splattered with ichor, the pale, sickly green fluid that filled changeling body cavities. But, again, there was no sign of the killer. The roar came just as we thought it had moved on, behind the wall to our right. A black object broke through the masonry, tossing bits of rubble as it howled. We brought up our sword barely in time to deflect a large piece of stone as the murderer came through the wall.

It – he – was tall, almost as tall as Jay was in his suit. Black as night, with a golden trim that seemed almost laughably ironic in its supposed purity, was his armor. In one hand, he clutched a sword that shook slightly, and idled as though an engine was hidden somewhere within it. In the other was a device that greatly resembled the bolt pistol Delphine used to shoot me in the face, though larger to accommodate the thicker fingers. Runes that sickened me to my core adorned his armor, marks to the Dark Gods he worshiped.

We stood before, and against, the engine of destruction known as a Chaos Space Marine of the Black Legion.