//------------------------------//
// Bravery 
// Story: In The Rough 
// by BlackRoseRaven 
//------------------------------//

Chapter Eight: Bravery
~BlackRoseRaven

Spike shivered as he trod deeper into the Hive, his eyes roving uneasily back and forth over unstable walls that were stained with sludge and organic matter. He hugged himself as he trembled, but he wasn't shaking because he was cold: the wet, humid heat was almost oppressive. No, he was afraid: there was no point in pretending he wasn't, as he wandered helplessly through a labyrinth of fleshy passages that formed the innards and organs of this bizarre Changeling Hive.
There wasn't much space to hide in these dank, dreary tunnels: thankfully, there also didn't seem to be much reason to. The only things he'd seen moving through these halls were more of those strange Changelings, the clipped that lacked horns or wings and seemingly any will or personality. He didn't know why, but the sight of those miserable servants frightened him far more than the drones or soldiers did.
Spike's eyes caught on a hole in the wall ahead, and he nervously approached to carefully lean in and look through it: there were gaps like this here and there through the walls, which seemed to act as both ventilation and windows into other parts of the Hive. He peered through it, and grimaced at the sight of Changeling drones hurrying back and forth, moving strange, gooey materials from shelves to what he guessed were storage containers. He couldn't tell what they were doing: if he had to guess, then he imagined they were Changelings moving some kind of food or resource into hiding to protect it from... what, him?
Were the Changelings really that afraid of him? They hadn't seemed all that scared when they had attacked them earlier, but then again, he was learning very quickly that even if they all looked the same to him, the Changelings were all very different. These clipped were so broken; the ones that he guessed were workers or drones, who he spied now and then through the vents puttering around, seemed so scared and worried.
The big ones in armor seemed angry, and like they didn't care about their friends and hivemates any more than they cared about him.
Spike continued down the fleshy passage, chewing on his lip before he looked up as he reached a fork. His eyes roved nervously back and forth as he lingered, shifting himself uneasily into the wall as if to half-hide as several clipped passed by. He watched for a few moments, knowing that he couldn't afford to make a mistake at this point.
Most of them seemed to be coming from one direction, while others were moving down the other tunnel. He decided it would probably be safer to follow the clipped rather than go against their flow: not because he was worried about disturbing them or anything, but rather that if there were security checkpoints or something ahead, it would be a lot easier to move forwards hiding in a group of them, rather than trying to run between ones going in the opposite direction.
That made sense, right? Spike nodded a little to himself as he chewed anxiously on his lip, hesitantly starting down the right tunnel and following close behind several of the clipped. They moved tirelessly, never rushing but never slowing down either, even when the Hive shook with uneasy rumbles or the shouts of other Changelings.
It seemed to be getting worse. Had something been triggered? Had Marina maybe gone for help or contacted someone instead of following the girls? No, he had believed her when she'd said she was going after them, and even more than that, Moonbeam had believed in her. Going off to get other people instead of saving them herself...
That would have been the smart thing. Probably the right thing to do. They weren't heroes: Spike was faced with that truth yet again, and how he hated it. But at the same time it was tempered by the thought that not-heroes like him had helped, more than once, to stop the bad guys and save Equestria.
So it was stupid to be angry or feel like it was a betrayal. The person he should be angry at was himself, dragging Moonbeam into this, costing them precious time when they could have already had help on the way, if he'd just sent a message out to Celestia or Twilight.
He was angry at himself. He knew he had made a mistake and gotten wrapped up in things, and now gotten himself and Moonbeam into horrible trouble. And now here he was, walking down a slimy tunnel, trying to save everyone because at this point, what other choice did he have but to follow through with the path that he'd chosen?
He had never thought about that, either. It wasn't just that he had put them into danger, it was that there was no turning back from the choice he'd made. He had to see things through, one way or the other, whether he liked it or not. You didn't get any do-overs in life. Second chances sometimes, sure, but it didn't change what you'd done, or what choices you had already made.
Spike grimaced as he saw the passageway widening around them, and he heard faint voices ahead: but there was no turning back now, was there? Instead, he hurried forwards, sliding in between the clipped, and he could swear that they shifted for him, just enough to let him find a space in the middle of the group of clipped, keeping himself low and just hoping that no Changeling happened to be in the air or low to the ground when he passed by.
He couldn't see what was around them as they passed through some kind of larger, open area, but he could hear them: frantic hoofsteps, things being shifted and dragged around, the buzzing of wings and the yelling of voices. Spike held his breath and listened intently as one of the nearer voices growled: “Get everyone into position! Block all the exits!”
“What about production? The clipped-”
Spike winced at a sound that was clearly a slap, accented by a cry of pain. “Shut up! They need to keep working! You need to get those exits locked down!”
“Y-You can't hit me! I'm not a soldier, I'm a drone!” blurted out the Changeling, and Spike shivered as he heard a squeal of pain.
“You're a soldier now.” that cruel voice hissed, and it somehow sounded like a threat to Spike. But that was the last thing he heard, as the group of clipped moved on and headed down another tunnel, and Spike felt the humidity and that sense of eerie life increasing around him again.
He almost didn't want to think about where they were going. He had a dozen questions and no answers: all he could see were the clipped covering him, and the mix of soil and hive matter under his feet. All he could do was hope that they were leading him in the right direction...
That made him think about what that soldier had said: what were the clipped 'producing' that was so important? They wanted this area locked down: this was clearly the hive's underbelly, and if the hive was like a living thing, then that meant this was where all the important functions were. Waste disposal, storage... food production?
Spike nervously pushed his way forwards a little, and the clipped naturally parted for him with barely a touch, letting him see between them. At first, all he saw was the continuing descent, but after a moment his eyes caught on the end of the tunnel that was finally nearing: nothing right now but a strange, pulsing green light, filled with eerie shapes and shadows that slid through the luminescence.
The little dragon bit his lip as they drew closer, letting himself slip back a little to hide in the shadows between the clipped. They closed rank slightly around him, and he fidgeted and looked back and forth as they passed through the cavern entrance and he heard the distinct thud of hooves out of beat with the quiet beat of the clipped's consistent cadence.
Strange, intense green light filled the air around them as they made their way into the... Spike wasn't sure at first. It was humid, and he could hear strange noises and smell something unpleasant. He bit his lip nervously, then winced when the clipped suddenly parted around him, heading in different directions, and the dragon flinched before he scrambled for the nearest source of cover he could see.
He ducked behind a tall shape, then grimaced a bit as he felt a slimy wetness, pushing himself back and away from it before he looked up. His eyes widened in horror as he realized he'd pressed himself against a glowing green cocoon, but any whimpers caught in his throat as he covered his mouth before his eyes darted to the side as he heard heavy stomping.
He pushed himself back against the cocoon, shivering a bit as his eyes darted over it, staring through the translucent green ooze at the shape of a pony within before he shook his head hurriedly and forced himself to look away, to focus on the approaching hooves. He dropped to all fours and silently crawled around the side of the cocoon as the hooves approached, and he held his breath and watched as a hulking Changeling in armor stomped past, glaring balefully out from under its helmet, but thankfully missing any trace of the little dragon, if only by a moment.
Spike waited for the giant to stomp away, then he let out a slow breath before he let his eyes travel anxiously around the area he had ended up in. He saw cocoons, and clipped walking back and forth, checking on the alien-looking slime-pods that contained ponies, as well as smaller, almost bulb-like protrusions that seemed to be growing here and there out of the ground, veins of yellow and green pulsating in the floor around these tumors.
He saw those strange, glowing roots – or maybe they were sinewy cables – seemed to extend out from around the cocoons as well: it formed a webwork that seemed to tighten towards the center, where he could see the lip of some kind of strange structure, like the mouth of a well. Weak light pulsed out of this: Spike couldn't help but notice that it was actually dimmer there than it was around the rest of the room, however.
The dragon looked back and forth, then carefully scuttled towards this, moving silently from pod to pod. He didn't know why he was drawn to it, but something about it seemed to call to him, to beckon him towards it...
He paused behind a pod, biting his lip anxiously as he saw another large, armored Changeling coming towards him, and for a moment he almost panicked as he realized there was nowhere to hide with the open ground behind him, before a clipped strode in front of him to begin checking over the pod, giving him much-needed cover. He crouched behind it, holding his breath, and he shivered as he heard the Changeling guard stop for a moment before it simply snorted and moved on, muttering: “Lazy slaves.”
Spike waited for a few moments, then he let out a sigh before he blinked in surprise when the clipped in front of him turned and silently moved on. He stared after it, wondering uneasily if the creatures were helping him somehow, for reasons he couldn't comprehend, and then he simply shook his head before he skirted around the pod and hurried towards the center of the room, checking back over his shoulder as he hurried up to the edge of the well.
He could hear what sounded almost like a heart thrumming, throbbing away, and the little dragon nervously grasped the short wall around the edge of the glowing cistern and hefted himself up to peek over the edge. His eyes widened as found himself staring down into a glowing green pit, mouthing wordlessly for a moment at the sight of the eldritch substance inside: was this what the Changelings fed on? Love, distilled?
But it was weak, he thought: it looked more like gooey slurry than what he imagined love must look like. Then again, what did he know? The idea that love would be some pure, warm substance was a romantic one, after all... he knew enough about loving someone that it could be a thankless and cruel emotion, after all.
He grimaced a bit, then frowned uneasily as the pulse of the love seemed to react somehow, darkening, then brightening. He hesitated for a moment, looking quickly back over his shoulder, before he carefully hefted himself up onto the edge of the well, taking a breath before he shifted over it and let himself hang down the slick inner wall of the well.
He had no idea what he was doing or why the hell he was doing this, as he braced himself as best he could, then reached a claw hesitantly down. And the slurry seemed to pulsate, to beckon, to reach itself back up to him, and Spike had this horrible thought of it rising up and eating him alive just before the tips of his claws brushed the surface-
He spasmed and nearly let go of the edge of the wall, feeling a shudder run through his body as his whole body instinctively clenched at the shock that ran through him. Yes, he felt love, but also intense pain; the anguish of capture, the fear of the monsters that had done this to them, that had stripped them, sucked the very love out of them; despair, hate, and the emptiness that was left in its place when love was drawn like blood from a wound that might never heal...
Spike yanked his claw away with a short gasp, shuddering and clenching his eyes shut, curling his body up as he clung to the wall. This wasn't pure love. There was so much pain in this love, because love wasn't something you could just suck out of ponies, love wasn't something you could harvest like wheat, with force and sickle.
How desperate were the Changelings if this was the best they could do, if this was all the love they could manage to steal?
But that wasn't what he had to focus on. He had also felt... he didn't know whether to call it the spirit or the presence of the ponies who had been drained, but now he knew that the ponies who had been captured were here. The Crusaders and Moonbeam: he had felt them in that slurry. Maybe there was a chance to get them out.
He nodded to himself, then began to pull himself up before his eyes widened as his head rose and he found himself staring in horror at a furious Changeling soldier that was glaring back down at him.
It grabbed at him, and Spike threw himself backwards before he could think about what he was doing, plunging down and clenching his eyes shut as he splashed into the pit of love. He flailed as he felt a shock run through his body, grabbing wildly at the surface of the pool before he blinked and realized that he was sitting on his butt in sludge that barely reached up to his waist, the dragon mouthing wordlessly before he winced and scrambled backwards when the Changeling soldier leapt down into the pit with a snarl.
“Intruder!” the Changeling roared at him, but he only managed to take a single step forwards before he hissed and staggered, the slime sticking to him like glue. He helplessly tried to yank his legs loose as Spike stumbled up to his feet, staring as the guard shivered and bared his fangs, shaking back and forth as if he was caught before he howled in pain and frustration.
Spike had no idea what was going on, and he didn't care, either: instead, he took the chance to turn and scramble up one of the slimy walls of the well, yanking himself over the edge and throwing himself back onto the ground. The frustrated guard roared from the well, but Spike didn't look back: instead, he found himself staring at the two other soldiers only a few feet away from him.
He gritted his teeth, then he took a breath and straightened slightly, making himself as big as possible as he warned in a voice that only trembled slightly: “Don't... back off, or I'll...”
“You'll what?” One of the Changelings sneered, and then he leapt forwards, and Spike's eyes widened in horror as he flung himself backwards, just avoiding being crushed under a hoof that hit the floor hard enough to punch a hole in it.
The goliath yanked his hoof back with a grin, leaning forwards, and Spike reacted more out of fear than anything else, slashing a claw at the Changeling's face. It made the soldier swear and flinch in surprise as those sharp little claws ripped down his muzzle, and Spike immediately took the opportunity it gave him to leap into a run past the guard.
The Changeling immediately spun around to pursue, roaring in fury, and Spike looked back over his shoulder with a wince before he looked back up and cursed at the sight of a clipped calmly crossing in front of him. He had just enough time to duck and slide under the Changeling, and this time he forced himself not to look back even as he heard the meaty thud of the clipped being slammed out of the way by the giant barreling after him.
“Stop him!” ordered the giant as Spike skidded around a pod, then flung himself back against it. The soldier ran past for a moment, but then skidded to a halt, his horn releasing a green pulse as his comrade joined him before they both spun towards where the dragon had tried to hide.
Spike winced, and one soldier charged at him as the other flanked off to the side around another pod: the dragon narrowly avoided a grab before he squeaked and leapt away from a blast of green fire, knowing he didn't have much time before the other huge Changeling got either around to his side or behind him. Maybe he couldn't stand his ground against these giants, but either he figured out a way to fight them or confuse them, or they were going to...
They were going to kill him.
Spike almost froze up with that realization, as time seemed to slow, as he saw the hate and the anger and the ruthlessness in that Changeling's eyes. All the things he had seen, all the 'bad guys' they had fought, and yet he'd never been in a danger like this.
This wasn't a game. He wasn't going to be 'captured' or just receive a beating if he screwed up. This Changeling wanted him dead.
The giant lunged at him as the other started to move in from the side, and Spike vomited out a blast of scalding flame in sheer terror as he leapt backwards. It stopped the charge of the flanking goliath and seared the face of the Changeling in front of him, who screamed and backed rapidly up, grabbing wildly at his helmet before he flung the glowing, steaming metal cover off, his whole head smoldering.
The chitin of the Changeling had protected him from being badly burnt, but when his eyes opened, they were scared and sightless. And yet that only made it all the more frightening as his horn lit up and he snarled, shouting furiously: “I'll tear your legs off, dragon!”
Spike stumbled backwards, terrified, horrified: at what he had done, at the fact this giant still wanted to hurt him, kill him. And the other one wasn't afraid: it was prowling to the side, waiting for an opening, as the third giant slowly hauled himself up over the ledge of the well, trembling and drooling, but all the same, focusing its narrow gaze on the dragon with the same murderous intent.
Spike didn't feel like a hero. He felt like he was going to piss himself: in fact, he already might have, but the feeling had gone out of his trembling legs. His breath felt like it was scorching the inside of his own mouth and his claws shivered as he pushed himself slowly backwards, until he almost backed into a clipped.
One of the soldiers suddenly snapped his horn forwards, and Spike ducked before he looked back over his shoulder in shock when that blast of hellflame smashed into the clipped, knocking it in a boneless sprawl with a horrific, necrotic tear ripped across its chest. Then the dragon cried out in agony when a hoof smashed into him, knocked rolling backwards with a gasp of pain before he landed on his stomach with a groan, head ringing, stomach twisting, eyes rolling in his head.
The guards were advancing.
He just wanted to lay here, though, and let it be over.
But he couldn't.
The guards were advancing.
He had to stop them somehow. He had to fight.
Spike pushed himself up, and a Changeling grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face down into the ground before it turned and flung him like a toy into a pod. He smashed against it with a wet squelch, ripping the cocoon open before he fell to the ground and shivered as a waterfall of ooze poured down over him. He pushed himself up, faster this time, but then flung himself back down on his side to narrowly avoid a lash of green energy.
“He's mine!” hissed the blinded Changeling, and he stumbled away from the other guards, advancing on him. Spike trembled, but gamely dragged himself up, heart thudding in his chest as he faced off against the aggressor, forcing himself to not be afraid, to not be afraid, as the Changeling guard growled: “I'm going to kill him, but I'm going to do it slow.”
“Don't... I don't want to fight you, but I will.” Spike said in a trembling voice as he faced the Changeling. But the beast only grinned at him, snorting steam as he loomed over the little dragon, so much larger and crueler and stronger.
The blinded Changeling glared down at him through his scarred eyes, his horn gleaming and thrumming, and Spike looked up as bravely as he could before he gasped when the Changeling grabbed him by the throat and hefted him into the air.
A hoof slammed into his stomach, and Spike gagged and curled up as tears welledi n his eyes, gasping and clutching uselessly at the hoof crushing into his neck. He coughed and shuddered as the Changeling growled: “Some dragon.”
The little dragon bit his lip as the Changeling drew his hoof back to punch him again, and then he leaned forwards and breathed out a blast of green flame that washed over the creature's horn, searing it and nullifying the Changeling's own magic. The giant swore and flung Spike backwards, grabbing at his head with a shout of pain before he lurched forwards, but Spike was able to easily scramble backwards to avoid being crushed, the blinded, confused Changeling snarling in fury as he hammered at the ground, no longer able to sense the dragon as his magic fizzled and crackled uselessly around his singed horn. “Where are you?”
Spike leapt backwards, and the guard looked sharply up before lunging at him, the dragon wincing and ducking out of the way to just avoid the wild tackle. Instead of hitting him, the Changeling crashed into the torn cocoon, smashing through the goop and spasming before he yanked himself loose in a hail of green slime, swearing and stumbling back and forth almost comically as he shook sludge off his body.
But the other guards had lost patience with watching, and were now closing in, one of them carelessly shoving the blinded, disoriented soldier over as they both advanced on the little dragon. Spike backed up, baring his teeth in fear more than aggression, his eyes darting back and forth: he had barely been able to confuse one. There was no way he could deal with two of them at a time.
He couldn't run, either: there was nowhere to run. Even the clipped were only standing now, waiting and watching. They couldn't help him here.
Spike backed up, trembling, and the Changeling soldiers continued to advance, glaring balefully at him. He could hear his heart thudding in his chest, the pounding seeming to get louder by the moment-
Wait, that wasn't his heart!
Spike realized this a moment before Marina leapt in and slammed one of her steel hooves into the face of a Changeling soldier, knocking him crashing and rolling across the ground with a cry of shock. The other guard immediately spun to face her, opening his mouth, but his jaw was snapped shut by a ferocious uppercut that made his eyes bulge out, knocking him rearing backwards before Marina spun around and kicked him hard in the chest with both hind hooves, denting in his armor and sending him flying across the room.
The guard Marina had punched had already recovered, but Spike was amazed to watch as Marina effortlessly dodged the blasts of green flame he lashed at her, before she ducked under a strike from its hooves, then weaved away from a slash of its horn.
The guard that had fallen into the pit came stumbling forwards, wavering and unstable on his hooves, but still a threat, even if only because he was a distraction. And Spike didn't know what compelled him to, but he suddenly leapt forwards, charging across the floor and vaulting off Marina's back as she grappled with the soldier she had already engaged.
The dragon crashed into the face of the disoriented Changeling and knocked it backwards, the guard losing his balance and flopping painfully down on his stomach. Driven by terror and instinct, Spike sent a rush of almost white-hot flame out across the head and face of the stunned soldier, who bucked wildly before he screamed and flung Spike backwards, clawing uselessly at his face.
But that only lasted a few moments before he slumped on his side, going limp as Spike stared at what he'd done, trembling on the ground. His head swam, and he was barely aware of the sound of Marina knocking the remaining soldier senseless with a blow to his neck.
Spike felt a metal hoof on his shoulder, and he looked up at her as she gave a small smile down at him. The dragon trembled, and then he dropped his head and vomited, clenching his eyes shut as he took a few short, struggling breaths, then whimpered: “Is... is he dead?”
There was silence for a moment, and then Marina simply said: “Yes.”
Spike nodded briefly, and then he shook his head before he forced himself to sit up, taking a brief breath before whispering: “They're here. I... they're here, yeah.”
Marina nodded, squeezing Spike's shoulder gently before she straightened and looked around. There shouldn't have already been Queensguard here: it was amazing that Spike had somehow survived. He looked worn and weary, though, and she couldn't blame him: she didn't want to imagine what he had been through.
She looked back and forth through this food storage: the clipped had begun to circulate again, industriously going about repairing the torn-open cocoon and the other damages to the room. She couldn't help but notice how sickly everything looked, though: these clipped were thin and malnourished, the hive nodes were shrunken and didn't seem to be doing their job of filtering emotions – and they probably weren't storing much excess love, either – and the veins that were supposed to circulate and carry love had an almost infected look to them.
The Hive told her that it had been pushed too hard. The Queen had asked too much and the Hive was dying: Chrysalis' greed and anger had overwhelmed her common sense, and even if they could build some grand, massive Hive, it was going to soon be nothing but a dead shell.
Marina shook herself out of her reverie, then she took a breath before looking back at Spike and saying quietly but firmly: “We need to find the others and get out of here as soon as possible, okay? I need you to be strong for me, Spike.”
“I... I can. I'll try, I can.” Spike murmured as he picked himself shakily up, trembling and shaking his head before he took a shuddering breath before he turned and looked anxiously around the room. “They're... they're somewhere over there.”
Marina didn't question how he knew that: she only nodded and headed in the direction he had indicated. Spike followed after her, staring a little at the Queensguard they had fought, and she gave him the moment to process. She could imagine he needed it.
She felt Moonbeam before she reached her, and she couldn't help but tremble a little as she looked at the mare she had caused so much trouble for. She was the one who had put her in this situation, this hell... twice now, she thought bitterly, as she looked into the pulsating green pod at the unicorn who was trapped inside.
Marina bit her lip, then she shoved her hooves through the slime, tearing through the film that protected the pod. She grasped the body trapped inside, then yanked it forwards, dragging Moonbeam out with a splatter of ooze as the glow faded rapidly from the cocoon. She cursed under his breath as Moonbeam fell against her, trembling and clinging to the mare in her forelegs as she whispered: “I'm so sorry.”
She felt the unicorn tremble, and then Moonbeam's eyes flickered weakly before she whispered: “Never again.”
“Never again. Never again.” Marina promised, and Moonbeam smiled weakly up at her before she closed her eyes, and Marina sighed in relief as she hugged the mare close to her body.
Spike watched this reunion for a moment, then he drew his eyes away, biting his lip as he nervously approached another pod. He stared at the pony inside it, then looked back over his shoulder and called shakily: “H-Hey, one of... it's Apple Bloom.”
Marina nodded, gently setting Moonbeam down, but the unicorn stubbornly clung to her for a moment, almost pulling her head down before she mumbled something incoherent. Marina smiled briefly, feeling her emotions, and she gave a hesitant nod before she carefully shifted, helping Moonbeam to her hooves.
She was shaky at first, but just the act of standing seemed to help her clear her head and find her strength again. Marina half-carried her forwards, then gestured at Spike, who approached Moonbeam's other side and floated nervously there, ready to catch her if she stumbled as the chocolate-colored mare approached the cocoon.
Marina sliced the film over the front of the cocoon open, the leaned inside and hauled Apple Bloom out, gently setting her down to the ground. She looked around as the young pony groaned and shifted a little on the floor, her eyes flickering, and Spike hesitated before he knelt down and asked: “Apple Bloom? Are you okay?”
Apple Bloom mumbled at him, and Spike smiled in relief as Marina went about freeing the other Crusaders. She worked quickly, shifting uneasily and feeling like something was wrong: the voice of the Hive was quiet, and there was an eerie feeling in the air, like she had missed something.
“I have the girls. We're going to try and get out of here, I think.” Marina murmured as she turned around, looking back and forth. She frowned uneasily, however, as she realized part of what was wrong: all the clipped were gone. But the only thing that could override the clipped...
“You will not be going anywhere.” said a cold voice, and Marina's blood froze in her veins as she looked up, staring in horror at the sight of a tall, eerie Changeling striding towards them, flanked on either side by Queensguard.
She was regal, but any beauty of her polished chitin body was ruined by the holes in her tattered mane and long limbs. She was vain, with toxic emerald eyes that looked down at them with cold contempt. Her black crown gleamed on her head, and in Marina's eyes, she all-but-glowed with command and power that nearly brought her to her knees.
Spike trembled as he stood in front of the huddle of ponies who they had just saved... or who they had almost saved, rather. There was no salvation now, was there?
Marina trembled, but forced herself to step forwards as Queen Chrysalis said in a soft, dangerous voice: “It's one thing for these ponies to defy me. But you? A defect who escaped being clipped? Utterly unacceptable.”
The Queensguard to either side of the Queen rumbled as they began to step forwards, but Chrysalis smiled thinly as she held a hoof out to the side, saying icily: “No. Let this one step forward. What is your designation, defect?”
“My... my name is Marina.” the Changeling mare replied as bravely as she could. She stepped forwards, trembling as her glammer bled away from her body, leaving her vulnerable and naked, a Changeling standing in front of her once-Queen... but Marina gritted her teeth as she forced her head to rise in spite of the iron weight of Chrysalis' presence, as she forced out: “Let us leave or... or I'll do what I have to do.”
Chrysalis smiled indulgently at this, then she clicked her tongue, her Queensguard striding to either side and watching with disgust and amusement as Marina trembled and shook. The Changeling Queen narrowed her eyes, and then she ordered: “Surrender, defect. You cannot defy your Queen.”
Marina felt herself wanting to bow. She felt the immense pressure of countless years of inbred instinct and training and conditioning weighing down on her, but she resisted it as she forced herself to do the unthinkable and meet Chrysalis' eyes as she whispered: “You are not my queen.”
The Changeling Queen's eyes widened slightly, and then they narrowed as the Queensguard snarled on either side of her. But again, Chrysalis gestured sharply at them, ordering them back with a movement and the natural power she had over all Changelings. All but the one in front of her, who faced her with a tremble, as Chrysalis said coldly: “Very well, Marina. If that is your choice, then so be it.”
Chrysalis stepped forward, and Marina gritted her teeth, dropping to a defensive position. The heart of the Hive pulsed as shadows and shapes shifted around them: she could sense the clipped in the darkness, and drones, and soldiers. She could feel enemy and friend, and all of them shocked that this one Changeling was daring to stand up to her former Queen, to the tyrant and monarch who ruled their Hive by right of blood and might.
And perhaps Chrysalis sensed it too, as she tilted her head ever so slightly to the side before she snorted and straightened, saying icily: “Then allow me to personally give you the honor of reminding you why I am Queen of this Hive, and what the price for betrayal is.”
Queen Chrysalis stepped forward, a venomous smile on her lips, already exerting tremendous psychic pressure on Marina to shackle her Changeling powers and blunt her senses, and all Marina could do was steady herself as static sizzled in her brain and her body shook with fear., even as she channeled every last bit of her will towards defying the undeniable, refusing and refuting the monarch's mental dominance, her mechanical limbs holding her up even as the rest of her body threatened to fail.
They watched one-another, readying themselves: the peerless Queen, and the runaway, the defect, the Changeling who had changed.
Chrysalis attacked.