“-Two steps forward, one step back, shuffle to the right, and that is that!” Mark finished, pressing the final pressure plate. There was the clanking sound of metal cogs as they turned. A small green flag flipped out of a tiny crevice in the wall and right in front of Mark’s face. “And that means it’s safe for about a minute. Come on Pinkie, let’s go before the hall’s traps reactivate,” Mark said, ducking under the flag and trotting down the hall.
‘Good thing we lost them. At least for now.’
‘I’m actually surprised that giant piece of flypaper worked. I originally got it as a distraction, but after this is all over I think I might get a bunch more.’
‘Does its effectiveness count as irony?’
‘Let’s ponder that later. Judging from what Chrysalis said, that orb is like a conduit or something for love, meaning if it can give love, it can also take it away.’
‘Which obviously explains why there’re so many ‘Lost’ changelings. Probably means there’ll be more too.'
‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
“THIS IS SO COOL!” Pinkie shouted, hopping around to and fro before settling at a backwards pace facing Mark. “How’d you set so many up? Can we set them all off? I want to see them all go off!”
“As much as I enjoy the enthusiasm-” Mark stepped over a tripwire that was independent of the safety mechanism. “I doubt that prick is gonna be stuck in the flypaper for long, and I still need to remember all the traps I set up. All...what? Thirty six?”
‘Minus the flypaper, tracking dust, and giant whoopee cushion, thirty-three. Separate the combination traps though and we’re looking at maybe fifty-something. Geez, saying it out loud, it’s no wonder Princess Celestia condemned this wing of the castle, you just couldn’t resist adding more and more over the years. That and nearly half of these traps have messed with the structural integrity of the entire wing.’
“Structural integrity, smucktcheral integrity. That’s just a rumor anyways. More importantly, do we count the hall of mirrors, dark room, ultra-violet room, and...oh right, I had bees! There was a bee room.”
‘Freshest honey in the castle. Though you were a crappy beekeeper’
“It’s like giant funhouse!” Pinkie exclaimed, even more excited than before after hearing Mark talk to himself.
“Yeah, it’s especially fun when the one walking through here is Blueblo-” A sudden click caused the unicorn to freeze. He’d forgotten about the pressure plate now under his hoof and more worrying, he’d forgotten what it activated. Knowing it was too late, Mark readied himself to his fate. “Celestia damm-”
Pinkie felt the whoosh as Mark flew by her, having been catapulted backwards by a spring loaded floor tile, kicked to the side by a boot attached to a pendulum, bounced upwards by an angled trampoline on the wall, caught in the net of a mini-trebuchet, and finally shot forward where he landed in a pit filled with spoiled whipped cream.
‘You know what? I’m not even gonna rub what just happened in your face. It’s sad enough as is.’
Feeling a little sick being completely covered in whipped cream, Mark slowly climbed out of the pit and the magic that sensed this action activated, returning the traps into their hiding places. Trying to maintain what dignity he had left, Mark held back the tears from the sour odor and spoke. “And that’s why you use fresh, unexpired whipped cream in your pranks. Unless they were mean pranks, then it’s up to your discretion.”
“Was that a mean prank?” Pinkie asked as she held her nose.
“The mean pranks are further in,” Mark answered with a frown.
“But that one seemed pretty mean.”
Mark let out a half-hearted chuckled before using a quick-cleaning spell on himself. “Pinkie, you and the girls haven’t seen the old me. Lets just say that I was…”
‘A complete asshole? A little shit? A petty bastard? An inventive yet crazy dastard who smells of elderberries? Wait, why the hell did i think of that last one?’
“-not very nice. Sour whipped cream is not the worst thing I’ve set up, and certainly not intentional in this case.”
“I wasn’t talking about the whipped cream though,” Pinkie corrected before pulling a life-sized Mark dummy from somewhere and tossing it onto the pressure plate Mark was on earlier.
Smiling a little with pride as he watched the traps activate, his jaw dropped in horror at the end when the dummy had reached the whipped cream-pit. He was unable to see it when he himself sprung the trap —due to the whipped cream in his eyes— but on two walls of the pit were broken off pieces of marble and iron. His landing imprint still there, Mark watched as the dummy landed only a foot to the left of where he had landed and saw as one of the improvised ‘spikes’ impale it through the forehead, a large bit cotton stuffing sticking to the point’s end.
‘Holy shit-snacks!’
“Snacks?” Pinkie perked up.
‘Wait, what? Did she just-’
Mark, still staring at the mutilated test dummy, gulped and tried to speak as if he hadn’t just avoided a gory end. “Pinkie, change of plans. I think that it’s best and much safer if we distract them elsewhere-”
“There! Morphos screamed, having just turned the corner and seen them. “Hurry up and get them you blasted idiots! Get them!”
“Fuck my life!” Mark cursed as he immediately grabbed Pinkie’s hoof and began to drag her forward with him through the trapped hall. He stopped as a string snapped at his hooves. He’d sprung the tripwire in his rush.
Suddenly Pinkie stood on her hind hooves, pulling Mark onto his as well before holding him close. “Don’t worry Marky, I got this!” Pinkie exclaimed, her face uncomfortably close to Mark’s and her hoof on his cutie mark.
‘Well...this just got interesting.’
“Pinkie, what are you-?” Mark became speechless as samba music suddenly started playing from somewhere and Pinkie began dancing as the lead. The only thing Mark could do at this point was go along with it.
‘I don’t know how or why this is happening, but I like it!’
‘How am I even doing this?’ Mark thought as Pinkie dragged, spun and dipped him several times so that he nearly avoided the swinging foam logs, ninety metre per second beanbags, and some buckets of paint that were splashed around everywhere.
“Is this a game to- UMPH!” Morphos was cut off as a log hit him, knocking him to the side. After physically —rather than magically— throwing the log aside, the changeling king protected himself with a magical shield and started casting spells ahead of him that vaporized destroyed anything that got in it’s way, whether it was a trap or a his own troops. To his continued frustration, the ponies movements kept them from being hit.
As Pinkie continued to dance them across the trap-laden hall, Mark began to realize how right Chrysalis was about Morphos. There was no way that her brother could have done all this on his own, not from lack of ability, but from simple lack of intelligence and control over his temper. Someone had pulled his strings to get him this far. There was no time to think on that subject however as they reached the end and Pinkie sent Mark on an incredibly fast spin ahead to conclude the dance.
Reaching the end of the hall, Mark hit the wall, fell on his rump and gagged before he could shakily stand back on all four hooves again.
“Which way?” Mark pondered, still dizzy from the dancing as he tried to reorient himself. In front of him were two separate hallways, one of which was bricked up towards the end of it because of his incessant need to frustrate anypony that used these halls. Not that there were any anymore.
‘Truly, you make this so very easy for me. Why can’t I ever be in charge of the body for once? You get to enjoy learning how to dance and I have to search your memory for the right way.'
“You heard him, right way it is!” Pinkie said, grabbing Mark’s hoof to drag him down the hallway to the right.
‘Seriously, are you not gonna call her out on that or what?’
Before the pink pony entered the hall however, Mark shook his hoof out from her grasp. “Stop! One of the halls are a dead end as in it’ll be the end and we’ll be dead.” Mark paused, noticing that Pinkie wasn’t paying attention as she gazed starry-eyed down both hallways, obviously wondering what lied in store for each. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”
“Nope!”
‘By the way, I believe left is the right way.’
“Isn’t left the left way?” Pinkie asked.
Mark eeped as a blast of green energy moved past his head. Though he couldn’t see it, he could smell the fact that the ends of his mane were seared. “No time to argue, let's go!” He shouted as he and Pinkie ran down the left hallway. Luckily there were no traps sprung in this particular hall due to three main reasons, the first being that this was one of the earliest halls Mark had ever trapped and Mark was too lazy to use the auto-activation spell he eventually learned that the other traps possessed. The second was because of the previous traps, no one went down these halls anymore so there was no point in repairing any broken traps. The third, final and most important reason, the real “prank” here was that the dead end was a brick wall that had a well painted recreation of the other side of the hall on it. Of course Mark hadn’t realized his mistake until he had ran straight into it.
Seeing stars, Mark wobbled a moment as he took control of the situation. “The fuck just happened?”
‘I guess the right way was...right. My bad!’
There was a bitter taste in his mouth as Mark realized this was it. He had messed up and now both he and his friend were going to pay the price. “Pinkie, I’m sorry but...Pinkie?” Spinning in a circle, Mark —to his dismay— found that the pink pony was nowhere in sight. “How the fuck?! I was just holding her hoof. She couldn’t have just disappeared! It's literally impossible!”
'I think figuratively impossible is the right phrase when it comes to her.'
Hearing incoming buzzing, Mark saw that three of the pursuing changelings had made it past the previous hallway and were now charging, their fangs bared and weapons poised to strike. Despite the obvious danger however, Mark had a feeling that Pinkie was up to something and that he shouldn’t curl into the fetal position and scream like a girl. Namely, his instincts were instead screaming for him to duck, which was exactly what he did.
Mark’s ears were deafened by a large boom and he was covered in dust, small bits of debris, and confetti — strangely enough. Luckily, the larger pieces of broken brick and mortar had struck the incoming changelings, who were effectively knocked unconscious.
Turning around, Mark was met with the sight of a large gap in the brick wall and ,through that gap, Pinkie Pie, standing atop her party cannon with a look of triumph and puzzlement on her face. “Why’d you stop Markie? It’s dangerous to just stop when you're being chased, silly.”
“Pinkie...How did you get-”
“No time to explain, Mr. Meanie-Bug-eenie is on his way. see?” Pinkie quickly said as she forcefully turned Mark’s head around until he almost swore he heard a sickening crack. Still in a state of shock and with his ears ringing from the explosion, however, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure. He was still of one mind to understand the danger of Morphos and the rest of his forces though.
Pinkie released Mark's head —which whipped back forward— and grabbed his his hooves. “Come on slow-poke. Let's go-go-GOOO!” She said before dragging him through the gap in the wall and away from the murderous changelings.
While Pinkie dragged Mark across the stone floor, Mark’s thoughts turned to his prank-traps and the efficiency that they were having at holding the changelings at bay.
Anger couldn’t even describe what Morphos was feeling at this moment as he proceeded through the hallway. One thing after another in these accursed hallways as his underlings consistently set off traps. Not even the rooms along the halls were safe. Two of his soldiers had been swarmed by bees in one while another had fallen into a pit trap and broke his neck on the landing. It was to the point where even hearing the pink pony’s laughter caused a chill to run down their chitin. Not only did the king himself have to be here to kill these ponies and enforce his will, but Morphos was forced to face the incompetency of his changelings. The only ones he felt he could really trust now to ensure his subordinates didn’t get themselves killed while he wasn’t around were his lieutenants, Skel and Mewta.
:Your Majesty, I’ve news:
Morphos blinked as Mewta contacted him through the hivemind.
:Get on with it, I’m busy trying to kill a couple of flies:
:Edge is dead. Chrysalis no longer has her guardling and what’s left of them are just Razor and some little fool. Skel’s taking care of them now. I’m en-route now to get the ponies for harvesting:
A wicked smile graced the king’s face. Finally some good news. :Good. Remember to kill the traitors that hid them from me in the first place once this is all taken care of. Let them know what happens to those who defy me! :
:Yes: Mewta affirmed simply.
“Well, someone looks quite happy.”
Morphos’ smile did a complete reverse as the yellow unicorn stepped out from somewhere at the end of the hall. Rather than charge forward as they had done before —and fail miserably— one of the remaining changeling soldiers threw his javelin forward at Mark, breaking the mirror into multiple shards.
“And that’s seven years of bad luck for that guy,” Mark said, appearing out of nowhere again. Suddenly, Mark began to multiply as he seemingly moved toward the center of the hallway before stopping and pointing at Morphos. “But, Mr.Jackass, you’ve got the worst of it.”
In response, Morphos snarled as his horn glowed and a gigantic blast of magic erupted from it, obliterating the center Mark —which was just another mirror— and creating a hole in the castle that led outside. The addition of natural light revealed the labyrinth of mirrors that were ahead of them, as well as also making it harder to see due to glare.
‘This is a terrible idea. Absolutely terrible. Even if you sent Pinkie ahead to wait for you, that only makes this terrible idea even worse. Hell, this isn’t even a plan, you just acted on your damn impulses again….Did the floor just shake a little?’
‘Shut up. If this works, Chrysalis and everypony won’t have to fight him.’
‘JUST WAIT FOR THE PRINCESS!’
Ignoring his subconscious, Mark continued his high-risk, high-reward bluff. “It’s never gonna work. You’re never gonna hit me, and you’re never gonna win. So I’m gonna give you a chance just like I kinda-sorta gave the last evil usurper guy I dealt with. Surrender now or die.”
There was a pause as Morphos and the other changelings stared at one of the Marks before Morphos started to chuckle, then get louder and louder until it was a sinister laugh. “You think you can kill me? You? The only one even remotely capable of beating me is your weak-hearted princesses. How could you possibly beat me on your own?”
The Mark images glanced briefly to their right through the newfound hole and their smirks only grew bigger. “Well that’s the kicker now, ain’t it? You say they’re weak-hearted, yet Luna’s successfully gotten out of your grasp, preventing you from using her as a bargaining chip or ‘food’. Then the other one is about to enter the city with an army, and I’m sure she is thoroughly pissed from your actions and trash-talk earlier.”
“Impossible, I don’t know how you worms managed it with that ship, but the shield is impenetrable to all but my changelings. Nothing-”
Mark couldn’t keep a straight face as a smirk appeared on his face. “I’m sorry, what shield?”
Morphos looked out of the hole he had made before and realized too late that the shield he was priding himself in was already released, its remnants evaporating upwards and over halfway till it reached the top and was finished for good.
“It’s over. Princess Celestia should be here any second and-
It was Mark’s turn to be interrupted, though not in the way he had expected.
Surprise had become confusion and confusion had swiftly turned to anger for the changeling king as he took immediate action, his horn glowing brighter and brighter with a eery green light. Around him, Morphos’ soldiers glowed and Mark could see some kind of essence get sucked out of their very being.
Almost instantly, the shield that had just moments ago was vanishing into nothing, had returned. Mark hadn’t noticed however due to what was happening before him.
The tacticians mirror images of stared, horrified as the changeling soldiers not killed by faulty and fatal booby-traps begin to contort and spasm in pain. The tipping point for them to become the emotionless, order-taking ‘Lost’ quickly being surpassed and their carapace, normally a black and green color began to get paler and paler; their muscles and softer parts in between the shell, shriveling and twisting until they could hardly be seen. All that remained of them were their armor, weapons, and husks. The only reason Mark knew they were still alive was their slow, ragged breathing.
‘Th-That was fucked up!’
Looking upon the expression on Mark’s face, Morphos gave a wide, amused, and twistedly evil grin. “You didn’t know I could do this, did you? Take their love, hatred, happiness...everything.”
“The orb let you do that?”
“Did you really think it was because of an orb?” Morphos laughed, his chittering, multi-toned vocals grating at Mark’s hearing. “All changeling royalty know how to do this and only we can become the paragons of our kind because of it. The orb only functions to increase its range.” Morphos stated, a manic expression on his face as an idea came to him. “I can, and I will remain the most powerful ruler in the world...Especially after I do the same to my ‘dear’ sister.”
Mark's eyes widened. “Wh-What? No! You can’t-”
“I can as I am now,” Morphos laughed again. Magical energy began forming all along his front hoof, flowing through its holes before he stomped it down, sending a green shockwave along the floor that shattered all the mirrors, and sent everything within twenty meters flying in many directions. This new development not only finished off what was left of Morphos’ drained soldiers, smashing their bodies against the walls, but also exposed Mark who was now surrounded by a floor of broken glass. Before he could even attempt to run, Mark found himself surrounded by a circle of green fire. “You on the other hoof...I could kill you without even trying...but that might be too good for you.”
Mark’s ear’s splayed as he tried to imagine what could be worse than that at this particular moment. He didn’t even notice that there was a slight shaking along the floor.
“My sister couldn’t have gotten as much of her power back that quickly on her own, which means she had a source of love restoring her power everyday,” Morphos said as he lifted into the air and hovered towards the trapped tactician. His satisfaction grew as Mark shrank a away from him as he moved closer until he couldn't get any further away. Stopping just outside the circle of fire, Morphos continued. “Somepony who I think wants to stay close to her at all times, protect her, even if it means invading the enemy castle.”
Despite the grim situation he was in, and his hatred of Morphos, Mark couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and taken aback by his words and what he implied. “I think you’re a bit confused. I’m here cause you sir, are an evil bastard that attacked the city. I care for Chrissy, but we’re just good friends.”
‘Best friends even, but more than that? Nah.’
‘...If we live through this, we gotta have a talk.’
“Whatever the case, I couldn’t have possibly gotten this chance without a fool like you. Who knows? Maybe Chrysalis will surrender for your safe return, not that I’d do it. In fact I’ll probably skin you right in front of her-” Morphos suddenly shielded himself and a small ball of flame aimed at his face struck it.
“Ah shit, I was hoping that would work,” Mark murmured as he hid the fire tome under his cloak and began to sweat from his precarious error as well as the heat of the flames surrounding him.
Morphos remembered just why he had so desperately wanted to kill Mark before. How this particular unicorn had managed to make a fool of him and how he refused to just die. Ready to rectify this, Morphos’ horn began to charge with magical energy.
“Hey wait, wait, aren’t you supposed to gloat a bit more or something?”
Morphos’ reply was an unamused and scornful look as he almost finished charging.
“Or you know, we could work this all out over a drink? Mead’s pretty good!”
Preparations complete, Morphos released the spell and a blast of raw magic hurtled towards Mark with the aim of vaporizing the unicorn.
Thinking fast and out of desperation, Mark kicked off the ground as hard as he could with his hooves and jumped just before spell had hit him, unfortunately, the newly formed hole in the floor left him with nowhere to land and only one place to go. “EEEEEEEAAAAaaauuuuu-!”
The changeling king growled as Mark had yet again escaped him, however, Morphos was surprised as the floor and even the walls around him began to convulse and begin to crumble.
Escaping through his previously made hole to the outside, Morphos hovered in the air and watched with fascination as that entire section of the castle caved in on itself, a testament to either shoddy construction, or a heavily tampered foundation.
Morphos grinned, even if Mark had survived that, he wouldn’t have come out of it in one piece, or be in any position to hinder the changeling king’s plans any further. No, at this point Mark was no longer a concern. Looking up towards the balcony that connected to the throne room, Morphos cast a spell, the effect which materialised a silver lance that levitated near him. He knew he’d need it, after all, he still had his sister to deal with.
“Oh Celestia, I’m dead. I’m so dead this time! Why the hell didn’t I follow my original plan to the letter? Ooow!” Mark groaned as he stood up in complete darkness and hit his head on something.
‘I dunno what it’s like to be dead, but I’m pretty sure you don’t feel pain as a dead guy. Unless you were a very bad pony.’
“Fair point...where in Celestia’s name am I?” Marked looked around, but saw nothing but pitch black. Feeling for any walls, he quickly noted that there was a wall on his left...and to his right, his front, his back, and above him. “Oh shit!”
‘Buried alive is definitely not the way to go.’
Fighting his urge to panic, Mark slowly began feeling around for any rubble he could possibly move to start finding a way out of this confined little space. Deciding that the best direction would probably be upwards and to the side so that he could get out of there, Mark figured his worst and only problem was that he didn’t know how far he’d have to go.If his luck was bad, he’d either run out of air or energy before escaping his predicament.
‘And if I’m lucky I’ll be out in a jiffy!’
Just as Mark lifted some loose rubble however, he put it back down as he realized something.
‘Why don’t I just teleport outta here?’
‘That’s...actually a good idea. Hell, why didn't you teleport earlier!’
‘Just teleport back to my room which is easier since I’m already in the castle and then make a beeline for the throne room to back up Chrysalis. Yeah, this should work.’
‘Between crashing an airship into an occupied enemy city, infiltrating the castle filled with enemies, provoking and confronting the enemy’s cruel and unfairly overpowered leader on your own, this is probably the best idea you’ve actually had in awhile.’
Smiling to himself Mark prepped the spell and cast it. His smile disappeared however as instead of materializing back in his room again, he found himself face to face with a wall as well as another strange feeling as if he wasn’t standing on anything. Looking down, he saw about two stories worth of distance before he’d fall onto some large crystals and stalagmites.
‘THIS IS YOUR WORST IDEA EVER!’
As gravity began accelerating Mark towards his death, he let out a high pitched scream and the first thought that came to his mind. “I DON’T WANNA DIE A VIRGIN!”
‘Judging by the angle you’re falling and the size of those stalagmites, that might not be a problem.’
Mark closed his eyes for the inevitable and continued to scream. Inhaling and continuing his scream when he ran out of breath. After about two minutes of no pain —as well as being out of breath— Mark realized that he no longer felt like he was falling and that there was pressure on his sides. Opening his eyes again, Mark stared into the yellow-slitted eyes of a fully armored thestral. One of Luna’s Night Guards in fact was carrying him with a mixture of amusement and pity.
“You done yet?”
“I...uh...huh?” Mark muttered, still trying to process what happened. Seeing that he was done screaming, the bat-pony began flying down a nearby tunnel with Mark in tow.
“Let me guess, changelings found your hiding spot and you used a teleportation spell to get to the castle hoping to catch up with Princess Luna’s evacuation, right?”
Mark nodded numbly, at least about using the teleportation spell part. Thinking back to his time before moving to Ponyville, he recalled that this bat-pony was named Starstreak and was one of the guards that he didn't really know that well and vice versa. “I don’t...Luna’s okay?”
Starstreak gave Mark a brief but painful squeeze. “That’s Princess Luna, and yeah, she’s fine. You’re lucky that she has us patrolling the perimeter and that I heard you, or else you’d’ve been a shishkebab.”
Though Mark was fairly confident in the Princess’ safety before, it was still a relief to have it confirmed. “So why didn’t I teleport where I was supposed to?”
“Magicite,” Starstreak said, gesturing to the crystals in the cavern. “Princess Luna used the magicite as a medium for a dispelling spell. That way we wouldn’t get detected or surprised by any changelings.”
Magicite. Any educated unicorn would know about magicite since it naturally absorbed magic and could be used in a variety of different ways. The most common use of the material that Mark knew of was that of the horn rings used to suppress any unicorn criminals.
‘This has been a fine little bit of exposition, but the question still remains-’
“What now?”