Prologue: Emergence
Beyond The Hive
It can be exceptionally easy being a changeling of The Hive. Especially if you are one of the mindless drones who have very little original thoughts besides harvesting others. They are the ones who are completely dependent on the Hive Mind.
They can't think, they can't articulate, they can't feel. They just do.
Fortunately (or unfortunately), I am not a changeling who is completely enveloped by the Hive Mind as of yet. I have some signs of independence and intellect outside the knowledge the Mind provides.
The first thoughts that I experience when emerging from the green membrane of the cocoon are not my own: they are that of the Hive Queen. She searches me, feels me, looking for weaknesses and defects. She probes the inner strands of mind, altering them to her needs whilst placing information here, and thoughts there.
I don't know this at the time: I am just a shell. I am not permitted to think that far.
As her mind disconnects I get a feel for the surroundings. I am in a huge, dark, cylinder-shaped dome, filled with fluorescent green cocoons and changelings flying around: the bulk of the Hive. A cacophony of buzzing fills the room and my head in particular. It is one which never stops, never tires. It doesn't affect me in the slightest: this is our idea of silence.
The sound is beautiful.
My convex eyes survey the cocoons nearby, and I see newborns breaking through the goo, into their new life. They look just as lost as I am; this is true for every changeling. We are just another part of the Queen, another tendril, another extension to her body. We are nothing to her, nothing to anyone. There's a reason why we all look the same.
But we don't mind; I don't mind. We are safe in the company of our Queen and that is all that matters. Sometimes life can be rough but where would we be without her? We're all interdependent and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Although, I'm not sure how I would have it any other way.
A shrieking sound echoes around the dome and the mass of flying changelings parts to allow a figure through: the Queen, Chrysalis. She is a sight to behold: her gangly black horn, her punctured skin, her blue hair hanging over her bright green eyes. Never have I seen something so beautiful and I expect I never will again.
I start to panic, thinking she has come for me. Have I not been deemed worthy? Has she come to dispose of me?
She passes without giving me a moment's glance and I give a sigh of relief. However, she turns and then snarls in my direction, fangs bared. I remember my place: I am in no position to show emotion at this stage.
The Queen lands by one of the newborns and sizes him up. A petty specimen if I do say myself; he is almost half my size. She raises a black deformed hoof and smites him briskly across his small, misshapen head. The power generated is immense and he immediately collapses on the ground, twitching. Another hoof is raised and brought sharply down, crushing the skull.
I look on from my platform. Do I feel aggrieved? Do I feel shocked?
No, I feel hungry. He is just another changeling; he is just another nobody.
I leap forward, like many others, and extend my wings. I glide towards the corpse and stick the landing right at the Queen's feet; I am the first to do so. She looks down again at me, at my eyes, through my eyes. I wince as she peers into my mind once more, analysing me. However, the Queen decides to say nothing, and leaves me to feed while she disposes of the other defects.
I lower my mouth and sink my fangs into the flesh, sucking out the nutrients.
Others join me but their chance to impress had passed. Some even try to make up for it by flying quicker and performing fancy tricks. They only succeed in humiliation and find themselves sliding off the platform into the horde below.
They won't be missed.
We changelings enjoy feeding on love and emotion: it was the first thing I was taught by the Queen when emerging from the cocoon. It is most enjoyable and the thing we truly crave and desire more than anything else. However, we also need our nutrition, and our own bodies are more than capable of providing that. I feel no remorse, no sign of any wrongdoing, as I feast on the dead.
When the corpse is pale and flaccid I raise my head to see that Queen is about to dispose of another. Her horn glows briefly green and I hear a faint click in my head: the sound of someone disconnecting from the Hive Mind. That click to me was a excruciating crack for another. Sure enough, the sound of screaming soon pierces my ears. A changeling has its hands on its head and is screeching as loud as it can. It has gone insane, having been removed from the Mind at such a tender age. Its brain is unstable: anything it tries to process is instantly rejected. Remember what I said about the buzzing in our head being blissful? That buzzing is gone, there is only silence filling that head now. A maddening, deafening silence.
But the silence must be broken; the void must be filled.
The skull weakens as the changeling's head begins to collapse in on itself, preparing to implode.
It does.
The insides spray out in all directions, spattering the vicinity. There isn't much of a mess as the head of a changeling does not hold much. The buzzing around me turns to laughter and I start laughing as well. We all participate in a nice, long, loud laugh. The Queen is laughing too: she started it. I have no control over my actions as the urge to laugh refuses to let go. My brain is clouded by her thoughts, telling me what to do. Telling me what is right.
Why shouldn't I laugh anyway?
As the hilarity draws to a close the Queen departs through the thick of the changelings, back to her throne. I feel the slightest twinge of sympathy for the carcass of the changeling now the Queen has left my mind.
This is soon replaced by greed as I feast on its entrails.
***
The next two cycles in the Hive do not hold much for me. It's called a “cycle” as we do not have night and day to distinguish between. The Hive is completely shut off from the outside; the green glow is the only thing that emits light. It's irrelevant considering we can all see in the dark anyway. The Queen simply tells us, no, forces us to curl up in our cocoon and rest when the time is right.
On the third cycle, I went through the standard procedure a newborn changeling must carry out. The first part was learning our enemy: nearly every other life form that could be harvested for love. This was done by observing a live specimen which this time, happened to be a unicorn. The newborns were all invited to surround the creature; to examine it and analyse it. The unicorn bore a striking resemblance to us and I wondered briefly, whether our species are related.
The creature in question was a red colour with a smooth horn poking through its rough brown hair. It looked completely devoid of emotion, having already been sucked completely of its love and feelings.
We were then ordered to live up to our name and so, all at once, we attempted changing into the pony before us.
I felt my black textures warping and shifting, the particles realigning until a red hue had been created to match the pony before me. My horn began to morph, the structure straightening itself out and the pattern becoming ringed. The transformation was soon complete, and about hundred identical unicorns surrounded one. It didn't take long for his already strained mind to snap as we again broke into cascades of laughter.
It was feeding time again.
***
The final part of our initial training was a “survival of the fittest” scheme. The Queen had been observing us this whole time, looking into our strengths and weaknesses. It was now time to prove that we could carry out what was necessary in the time of need. Being a slightly smarter changeling than the norm was no use if the enemy had you helpless on the ground, begging for mercy.
Our transformation from changeling into a true member of the Hive was all but complete: this was the final test.
The arena itself was situated right at the peak of the Hive: a floating platform formed out of our very own kind. It is very stable due to the Queen having tapped explicitly into their minds, forcing them to keep their shape. The "platform" is however permitted to fly around for added difficulty.
There was only room in the Hive for the best. It wasn't completely self-sustainable so any dead weight was removed at this point. There were about a hundred newborn changelings remaining and that number was about to be cut in half.
The Queen required only the most brutal and intelligent changelings and this was where, at last, we became an unexpendable member of the Hive.
I find myself watching from afar with the rest as, one by one, the changelings duel. Some are disposed of quickly, a mismatch really; some engage in an epic battle that lasts for many minutes. All the while the Queen watches on, making notes on who might perhaps become a leader someday.
It was down to the last ten changelings when it was finally my turn to step forward.
I fly to the edge of the platform, gripping it carefully: I had just witnessed the last changeling slip off from the start, his wings too weak to support the fall. Good riddance, really.
I look over and see my opponent. He looks almost identical to me with the same black figure, full blue eyes, and sharp front teeth protruding from the mouth.
He must be eliminated.
My opponent makes the mistake of trying to impress the audience and more notably, the Queen. This isn't a competition to show off your flash; it is a chance to display your grit to survive.
He dashes forward, beating his wings to reach maximum speed, priming his outstretched teeth and horn for the kill.
It is a hasty attempt to be on the front hoof, trying to catch me off guard. However, he hasn't thought ahead to the consequences such a move might hold: miss and it could prove fatal.
As he approaches I prepare to kick off to the right, tensing my feeble legs. I do so just as he is about to strike: a sharp, swift movement out of the way.
It doesn't hold the intended effect and he manages to turn sharply, cutting out the momentum and preventing himself from falling off the edge.
Impressive.
His hooves scrape against the back of the changelings below but they hold firm through the groans of pain. They know that any changeling who shows particular weakness will be killed off with no remorse.
My opponent, determined to keep the battle short, launches at me again, trying to catch me unaware. He is closer to me this time and I did not expect another attack so quickly. My reactions are quick, but that can only get me so far this time. As I again try to sidestep, his fangs tear through the tissue of my wing.
While his momentum again carries him away, I twist to look at the wound. It is only a small nibble and the hole even looks natural compared to the rest of my wing. However, my hopes of a clean run are gone now. My tactic had been to try and evade all attacks in a slick manner, but this changeling is just too quick. I also notice that the changeling is not tiring as he again rears for another assault.
I have no choice but to attempt to dodge the move again. This time it comes off more cleanly but I am starting to worry. If I am impressed with this changeling's stamina, then who knows what the Queen will think?
I have to turn this around. And fast.
I adopt a more combative stance: bracing my hind legs and leaning forward, preparing to spring into action.
Predictably, he charges again.
I perform another evasive manoeuvre but this time I arch my back whilst turning, and spring forward myself. I do not intend to tear his flesh as I suspect my fangs are not fully developed, as seen by the minor wound he caused. Instead, I decide to lead with my body and the brute of my weight.
I'm guessing he had expected an easy ride, that I was simply going to be on the defensive all day, as he barely has time to register my intentions before we collide. My shoulder hits him side-on and and he is propelled backwards into the air.
After releasing my eyes from the brace of the impact I see him land on the floor, sliding towards the edge. As he disappears from view I gleefully turn around victorious; confident he has met his doom in the abyss.
It seems my confidence was misplaced as the next thing I feel is something collide heavily with my back. I too, am propelled backwards, but quickly try recovering by rotating my body, using my wings to regain balance as I drift away. I pray to the Queen that the slash to my wing does not mess with my wing force and balance.
Luckily it doesn't and my wings catch the air, halting my movement until I am hovering in a fixed spot, facing my opponent. He has a toothed grin on his face, his eyes brimming with satisfaction. Not only did he prove he can fly back from a fall but he used my own method against me by colliding full-on.
I no longer care for looking good in front of the crowd that has assembled around us or The Queen. I just want to end his miserable life. He is a worthy opponent: one that deserves to live and deserves to fight by my side. But that will just make his demise all the more significant and all the more impressive.
He too senses that the end is near, and charges again, ready to deliver the final blow. I do the same. The wind in my ears blocks out everything else, even the Hive Mind; for a moment, I am completely alone. There is no Hive Mind.There is just me and my prey.
In a swift movement I alter my wing pattern ever so slightly, causing me to strafe left. Instead of colliding head on I fly right past him in the opposite direction; however, I tilt my head, forcing my sharp horn through his wing.
I hit a solid part, no gap, and feel the fabric come off on my horn with a tearing sound. Looking back I see a gaping hole in his wing, and threads of it on the platform floor. Wincing in pain, he turns to hiss at me but I'm already charging again, using my wings to attain maximum speed.
The connection is more solid this time, and he is launched back into the air again. He flaps his wings desperately to regain balance but they do not halt him, causing him to smash into the wall of the Hive. His cavity-filled arms offer little purchase as he struggles to grip the side, attempting to prevent his descent. It proves futile and he picks up speed, hurtling to his doom.
I look on safely from the changeling platform, panting heavily. For a first fight we both did well and I am feeling the effects of battle on my fragile body. No other changeling's battle was that physically grinding. Although some had lasted long, it was only due to both participants being afraid to commit. Our confrontation was way more direct and I am struggling to keep my composure, now the adrenaline has gone.
I look up to see that the Hive Queen has barely shifted in her seat, seemingly completely disinterested. I don't expect much from her anyway: she often doesn't praise us changelings, we don't mean much to her after all. Individually of course: collectively we are an integral part of her as well as her greatest weapon.
I spread my tired wings and fly gently over to the other victors. They hold my gaze briefly before turning back to see the remaining changelings duel.
I decide to watch too.
***
It has been one cycle since the initiation duel. Last cycle was for rest; this one is for us to learn our role in the Hive to keep the cycles running smoothly.
I don't expect too much. Not many roles are known to us at the moment as the Hive Queen keeps the secret positions away from the Hive Mind.
The two main roles in the Hive are being a Drone, and being a Worker. The Worker is usually a female assigned to various tasks around the Hive to keep it running smoothly. The Drone is essentially a soldier where the physically superior male changelings are elected to protect the Hive from any attacks. They are also involved in raids or assaults, sometimes even accompanied by the Queen, herself.
Drone is of course the position I am hoping for as well as expecting. There's no denying I performed well in the duel and clearly better than most. But what rank will I be?
We line up in a perfect formation on the main platform, positioned near the Hive exit. I feel the hardened goo beneath me and it makes a pleasant change from actual changeling bodies.
Most changelings in the Hive are now swarming around us, eager to see the new arrivals. The Queen arrives with them and we all bow our heads, careful not to make eye contact.
We all await the unique touch from the Queen, telling us what positions we have been assigned for the rest of our days.
I remain perfectly still, maximising my senses to determine when she is beside me. It isn't long before I feel a ominous hoof descend over me, making contact with my rough skin. I shiver slightly as she touches me: treasuring the moment as this may be the last time I am given the honour to feel the Queen. As she moves on to the adjacent changeling, my senses return, and I search my mind eagerly to find out my role.
I find nothing. Whatever she put there, I cannot find nor feel it.
I begin to panic and my body shakes until the Queen is finished with every changeling. The order is then given for every assigned changeling to leave and eventually, I am the only changeling left on the platform.
Except for the Queen.
I feel her enter my mind and she caresses my brain, telling me where to go to meet her next.
A few moments later, I am alone and free to think. She has left both the platform and my mind.
I wonder briefly what she has in store for me as her message lacked any emotion whatsoever. The logical assumption would be that I have been chosen for a unique position.
She had noticed after all!
I leave the platform and head up to the peak of the Hive, to a secluded area where she told me to meet her.
Excited all the way.
***
This is her own private section of the Hive. Regular changelings don't have that as the only place that belongs to us is the cocoon we were born in. Other than that we are expected to be working all the time as unauthorised rest is not permitted.
I survey my surroundings: I am in room with strange markings on the wall and mysterious objects in the corner. I recognise none of them but I deduce that some are used to feed and strengthen the Hive Mind.
Queen Chrysalis stands before me, her figure superior to mine in every aspect. I remember my place and again bow my head out of respect.
“Sit down,” she hisses, gesturing at a mould in the ground opposite her own. I do as I am told and position myself precariously upon it, before the Queen. I have never heard her speak before and I'm not sure many a changeling has either. The sound is beautiful–one that I am proud to say has graced my ears.
I also note how, this time, she decided against using the Hive Mind to give me the order.
“I grant you permission to speak. Abuse this gift and I will crush you.”
I gulp but the brutal message is understood: I am only to speak when absolutely necessary.
“You may think that I know nothing about you, but that is far from the truth. I remember every changeling; the Hive Mind is a beautiful thing.” She pauses to reflect the matter before turning back to me.
“I saw promising signs from you during the initial process. An intelligent mind contained within a reasonable structure. Perhaps not the strongest, but out of the newborns your ability to think is unrivalled. This is the trait I need for the task at hand.”
I cannot believe what I am hearing: the Queen herself just complimented me! She is also selecting me for a unique task.
This is the best cycle ever!
“Do not make me go back on my words,” Chrysalis warns, noticing the happy expression on my face. “Or I might just feed off this new emotion.”
“Sorry, it's just a big deal to me.”
I instantly regret my words. How could I be so childish?
“If you're going to be like that then I will find another changeling less immature,” Chrysalis snarls.
“I am as mature as any changeling. That was a moment of weakness which won't be repeated,” I say carefully.
“No, it won't. Now, I bet you're wondering what a petty changeling such as yourself has been chosen for?”
Great, it feels like I'm on her bad side now.
Instead of answering with the obligatory “I don't know” I give the question the thought it deserves.
What had I been chosen for?
“Try not to faint whilst participating in this mentally draining task. Besides, it was a rhetorical question,” Chrysalis sneers, noticing my strained expression.
I feel embarrassed: this clearly isn't going too well.
“You have been chosen because I need something and your pitiful life has been put forward on the line to get it. I have no time for such things so you will be sent into Equestria to do it for me. What you bring back will also be accompanied with honour and glory for The Hive.”
I gulp again nervously. Just what did this task entail?
“Now, what do you know about changeling birth?” Chrysalis asks casually.
I pause for a moment, contemplating the question.
“We changelings all come from an egg which has been laid by the Hive Queen. For the egg to be fertilised it must be laid in the body of a male changeling,” I finally say.
I feel uneasy about going into detail as the facts of changeling birth are not pleasant.
The Queen bites off the head of a strong drone, killing him, and lays her eggs in the shell. From the egg grows a tube which expands into a large cocoon, housing the changeling. The cocoon nurtures the changeling until it is ready to live on its own.
After thinking the process through I feel a chill creeping along my dark skin. This isn't what she called me up here for, right?
“Excellent. You know how to recite information you've been told, ” Chrysalis says sarcastically.
It's true, I only know this due to my connection with the Hive Mind.
“What you don't know is that the newborn's characteristics and talents are a direct extension from mine. That if I were to grow two horns then they would do the same.”
I hadn't been told that but I had guessed that we were directly derived from the Hive Queen due to her unique ability to control the Hive Mind. To what extent however, I was unsure.
“Furthermore, it has come to my attention that our current ability is not adequate for us to advance. You might also not know that your birth was a direct result of a failed changeling assault on Equestria. The invasion of the capital failed and a later attempt to infiltrate a native town fell short. We were lucky to return as many changelings as we did and it came to my attention we need something more for our next advance.”
Changeling invasion? Failed? My illusions of an immortal Hive Queen were shattered there and then. She is a Goddess to us yet these ponies of Equestria managed to subdue her? This sacrilege would not pass without action taken: the Goddess must be restored to her former glory and I will do whatever is necessary.
“What do you ask of me?” I inquire formally. This was serious business now.
“To go where no changeling has ever gone before, to go the darkest corners of the filth that is Equestria. You must do this without your identity being revealed, without anyone realising who you truly are. You will bring something back that will make me stronger, may it be potion, spell or knowledge. I can then extend this supplement to the rest of the Hive. Every changeling will be fortified and next invasion we will be victorious. It might be an ancient weapon or perhaps simply a weakness in their anatomy we can exploit,” Chrysalis says, licking her lips. "You will report on your findings each night through the Mind."
So that was my mission. To enter Equestria as one of those disgusting creatures, to live amongst them without detection. To bring knowledge and power back to The Hive and my Queen.
“That is all that needs be said. You will depart next cycle. Do not disappoint me. Do not disappoint the Hive.”
She gets up and flies away, leaving me alone on the pedestal, thinking this through. However her voice remains in my head, reverberating around the inside.
Do not disappoint me. Do not disappoint The Hive.
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Kick-ass, man, can't wait for more!
brutal but good.
Very good start. At first I wasn't crazy with the first person POV but it is written well to keep me interested
Not bad. I was rather impressed and enticed by the well played dark elements. Skull implosion and a very evil strict Chrysalis? Yes please. I'd probably say it deserves a gore tag though, and I didn't like the present tense. It works well for the changeling mindset but I'm not really into it. An easy thumbs up for sure but not a track from me due to it being a little vague from here and the tense (what? I'm being honest here). Good changeling culture and well done fight scene though. Honestly a good job. You deserved your feature slot.
This shows a good deal of promise. I can't wait for the rest. :)
This is really awesome! This is a story told from a changeling's point of view, and I like your characterization of Queen Chrysalis. Do continue with this. :-]
Just expressing my thought right here:"Gee another fic where there is a hive mind... how Starcraft-ish of you guys..." It's an idea... i just have seen it too many times. Other than that i like it.
2665665 Starcraft? Well I haven't played it so I wouldn't know. The idea was mostly based off the insectoid species in the Ender's Game series of books. Can't wait for the film
2664263 Yeah I'm not too keen on present tense, just trying it out. Also to keep with the culture I've established it would be hard to keep referencing the main character from third person as he is a mostly generic member of the Hive. Although, he will adopt a name later to help him blend in.
Glad you people like it! :D
2665779 Just saying... hive-mind here hive-mind there. I've just seen it too much... in my own fic i've tossed the complete control of the hive mind aside. I treat it as "teamspeak" or "skype" through mind.
Quick question: does
mean what I think it means? Because if so then the changeling population can only decrease, as not every changeling is born male and even if they were given that most of the dead are eaten the number of 'incubators' will continuously decline with no way to increase their numbers.