//------------------------------//
// Part 2: Jailbreak 
// Story: Message in a Bottle 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

For over six months of her life, Flurry Heart had imagined that things could not get worse. She had lived in an endless nightmare of crushed hopes, as she saw the death of all creation. Now that she was seeing that death come to Equestria, she only wished she could have her aunt back.

In a mockery of respect, the Storm King had given Flurry Heart Celestia’s own tower to live in. Its incredible luxury and intricate workmanship seemed spoiled by the feet of his strange guards. But that wasn’t even the worst part.

Though he had taken Luna’s body as a grizzly trophy, the Storm King had left the petrified corpse of Flurry Heart’s own mother behind, watching her from the other side of a glass display case. “Defiance,” the case said, in plain block letters. Flurry Heart met her empty eyes every time she walked past the bed. But then, at least her mother was dead. Shining Armor was locked in a dungeon somewhere, brought out whenever Flurry Heart needed “encouragement.”

She considered leaping off the balcony more than once, and taking the Storm King’s puppet from him. It was one of the few kinds of defiance she was capable of. The hobbles she wore on her hooves and bindings on her wings wouldn’t stop her from climbing over a low wall, and the guards would never reach her before she jumped.

But every time she played with the idea, something always happened to stop her. She thought about her father, or her friends back in Othar. Life still seemed bleak, but not quite enough for that. Not yet.

Life in the palace was worse for the others than for her. All she had to do was say what the Storm King told her to say, and sign what he told her to sign. Mostly it was begging the ponies of Equestria to surrender in peace, to recognize that the Alicorns were dead, and they would die too if they resisted. She as their regent wanted ponies to adapt and serve their new master in his grand vision.

Not all ponies listened, though. She heard stories from the distant provinces of Equestria. Instead of surrendering, the Golden Armada in Manehattan had flown off into the sea and vanished from sight. Though the various guard forces in most cities had given up, plenty more had gone underground, harrying the Storm King’s attempt to secure control.

Flurry Heart only knew any of this because she had to read a speech every day begging them to surrender. Each day Tempest Shadow would come to her with another one, and each day she would try very hard to pretend like she meant it. At least if she did, they wouldn’t hurt her father.

Equestria was not giving up easily—even in Canterlot she heard stories of disobedience. Mostly she saw the bodies strung up outside the castle, where the Storm King would leave ponies out “to be judged by the storm.” Inevitably his massive airship would rain lightning down on the spot, and nothing but burned bodies would be waiting the next day.

From the crowds she saw outside, it seemed that the Storm King would make other ponies gather around to watch.

It was after one of her speeches that Flurry Heart was escorted back into Celestia’s massive bedroom, Tempest Shadow following alongside her with nothing but stern glares. “It is good there is somepony reasonable in Equestria,” she said, as the door shut behind them. “When the others refused to obey, I worried you might. Their deaths were pointless—yours would have been as well.”

Flurry Heart shook her head, hobbling away from the unicorn as fast as she could. “You care about that now? After that crater you left behind in Othar?” She sniffed, but there were no tears left. Flurry Heart had cried for her dead friends many times now. There was no moisture left in her eyes for that. “Why’d you kill all of them?”

“So we wouldn’t have to kill all of you,” Tempest answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Equestria was the real target, not some island of separatists. The Storm King feared that you might not cooperate, and then he would have had to use the Stormbreaker against an Equestrian city. And even then, he was merciful. He could’ve killed all the ponies of Othar for their insult, instead of taking them in as citizens of his new kingdom.”

“They’re not dead?” She couldn’t keep the hope from her voice. “Was there a—” but then she stopped. Another alicorn would certainly have attracted attention, and they had two. The fact she hadn’t seen them around by now probably meant that they didn’t know. So either they’re dead, or they’re hiding. Flurry Heart had seen the pictures of Othar, and the absolute ruin that had been made of its fortresses. But at the same time, she had come to know the humans who lived there. Forerunner had a will of iron and gears, and Lucky had deposed Celestia and saved her from torture. If anypony could’ve survived the end of Othar, it was them.

“I said, was there what?” Tempest loomed over her, breaking Flurry from her reverie. “Whatever you know, you must share it with me. Or our king might want you encouraged in another way.”

Flurry Heart wanted to blast Tempest to pieces. She had the magical power for it—between being an Alicorn and her teenage emotions, she felt like she could tear down the castle sometimes. But the rusty metal band on her horn didn’t let her cast any kind of spells. But that gave her an idea. “Was there any machines,” she finished lamely. “Because Othar was… advanced. And they could’ve fixed your horn for you.”

That stopped her dead in her tracks. Tempest’s expression became unreadable, and when she spoke, it was deadly serious. “Even Equestria couldn’t fix my horn. The best doctors in the country. A pack of crazies living out in the ocean wouldn’t have done better.”

“No, it’s true.” She glanced to one side, but this wasn’t her room, and none of her possessions were here. “There was a pony there, uh… Lei I think her name was. She lost her leg in some accident. Maybe six months ago, they just replaced it for her… and not a wooden one. Real fur and hoof and even blood inside. They were really good with scars, too. Lots of ponies on their weather team went there because they could get them fixed. I dunno how they did it, but… that’s why I asked.”

“Really.” Tempest turned away from her, armor clanking in her impatience. “Well, that is all I needed from you, Princess. My guards will… see to your needs for the evening. Continue to cooperate, and there will still be a place for you in the Storm Kingdom.” She left, vanishing out the way she’d come. That left Flurry Heart alone with the guards—the strange thickly-furred creatures with their ursine faces that made even Forerunner seem familiar by comparison.

Flurry Heart pretended they weren’t there, as usual. She made her slow way to Celestia’s grand bathroom, and washed herself off with a damp rag. No amount of scrubbing would wash away the shame of what she did every day, instructing the ponies of Equestria to submit to tyranny. But the princesses are dead, and the only other ponies who might help are either dead or enslaved. Who’s supposed to save Equestria now?

The bathroom door banged closed. Flurry Heart looked up, and was startled by the massive shape of an armored figure there, spiked cudgel in both hands. One of the guards, watching her with an expression in its beady eyes she could somehow recognize. Celestia help me.

“No one else here,” said the guard, its voice a guttural growl. All of Tempest’s guards could speak Eoch well enough, though their accent was thick. “No one cares about you, Alicorn. Figure I might take a piece for myself. Don’t fight, you might even like it.”

Flurry Heart froze, eyes widening until they’d gone completely black. She felt suddenly paralyzed as the creature advanced on her. She could’ve vaporized it in an instant, if only her horn wasn’t trapped. She tried anyway, a few valiant flashes of light that turned icy cold against her horn as the energy dissipated. The creature only laughed.

“No getting away, Alicorn. No one to hear you scream but my friend, but he’s not listening. You—” He fell silent, apparently listening to something outside. 

Flurry Heart heard it too—it sounded like something soft breaking against wood. There were several repeated blows, a pained yelp, then a wet thud.

“Looks like a friend of yours came to die,” the guard said, turning his back on her and hurrying to the door. “You wait here.”

Flurry Heart hobbled away, though she couldn’t go very fast. More importantly, she knew the massive bathroom’s servant entrances had all been sealed. Everything but the balcony and the hallway into the main tower were locked tight. She couldn’t get away.

She didn’t want to watch another resistance pony die, though. She looked away from the entrance even as the second guard charged out. She listened for the war cry she’d heard so many times already—“For the Princess!”—but she didn’t hear it.

Growing curious, she peaked around the corner and saw something incredible.

It was an adolescent dragon—about the size of the dragon ambassador to Equestria, only with red scales instead of blue. The dragon wore dark cloth over most of his body, and a wooden mask over his face. There was a skull painted on it in bright colors, yellows and greens and blues mostly. But not the skull of a pony.

Behind the dragon was a ruined corpse. The dragon’s hands were bright blue with blood—and it was easy to see why. It had drawn something in the guard’s own blood, covering the corpse and the beautiful carpet all around it. A skull, like the mask.

Flurry Heart had never taken joy in violence before. Even so, there was something satisfying in seeing just how effortlessly the dragon fought. Not like any of the dragons she’d seen before—there was nothing of strength or rage in it, relying on its magic and impervious scales. This one used its hands, dancing around the guard even though he was perhaps half the height. He caught the club mid-swing, then smashed it up into the guard’s armored face. 

The oaf stumbled back as the helmet tumbled away, revealing a broken nose trailing blue blood onto his face. “Intruder!” yelled the guard, his voice choked with pain. “He killed Namrak!”

The dragon seemed completely unconcerned. “Tienes suerte de que haya una mujer mirando,” he said, before stepping onto the creature’s legs, slicing away at them with his claws. More blood sprayed, and the guard teetered, screaming in agony as he collapsed.

The dragon lifted the spiked club from where it had fallen, and brought it down on the guard’s head as he started to rise. He swung so hard that bone cracked at the impact, then kept swinging.

Even Flurry Heart couldn’t keep watching after that. She retreated to the bathroom, hot water still filling the air with steam around her. She felt acid building in her throat, and she had to bite back the desire to vomit. At least the creatures didn’t look like ponies, or else she would’ve lost it for sure.

The awful sounds stopped. Flurry Heart chanced one more glance, and saw that the dragon had posed the corpses in the center of a hideous tableau. Surrounded by the skull drawn in their blood.

“I hope you don’t mind if I use your sink,” the dragon said, his Eoch only slightly accented. “Their blood is easy to track. Plus, I think this soap is plum. My favorite.” For all his terrible violence, the dragon moved past her without a hint of malice. Rather the opposite, in fact—he kept well away from her, and showed no signs of the insanity she might’ve expected from one who had just maimed two guards and drawn something with their blood.

“They’re coming for you,” she said, her voice low. “Did Ember send you? A little too late to help. You need to run.”

“The rest of the watch is dead too,” he said, as he stuck his scaly arms one at a time into the water. Now that she was up close, she could see the dragon was wearing a vest. It looked a little like the ones she’d seen human ponies wearing around Othar, if it had been sewn by someone who’d never sewn before in their life out of secondhoof scrap materials. The little weapons and tools inside looked simiarly jury-rigged. “No, someone more powerful than Ember sent me.”

She recognized his accent now. Besides, it wasn’t as though there were very many black and red dragons in the world. This one happened to be just the right size. “Perez,” she said. “You made candies for me… shaped just like your mask.”

The dragon laughed. “I suppose I did.” He pulled up the mask, revealing his grinning face. “I wish you didn’t have to see me at work, kid. But I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” He drew something out of his vest—a long bit of metal, that flared briefly to bright blue light when he pressed it. “Should we do your horn first? We don’t have a lot of time. And I don’t think security will be this porous if I have to go for round two.”

“Not my horn,” she said, wincing at the thought. “He’s got a… special key. I already tried prying it off, and it stabs into my head. He says it will kill me if I break it.”

“Not the horn then.” He approached slowly, as though she were an animal that might be spooked. But now that she recognized him, she no longer felt afraid. Lucky saved me once. I knew she would look out for me. Right on time, too. “Lift your hooves a little. And look away. It might not look bright, but this torch goes through corneas like I go through tequila, que.”

She complied, and soon felt a brief spot of warmth from between her hooves. “Lucky sent you. We’ve got… one of your magical airships. We’re flying away. Back to Othar, which… wasn’t destroyed? All lies, then?”

“No.” The metal clanked to the ground from between her hooves. “Sideways, Princess. I’m going to get your wings out next. I can’t fly, but you might need them if they bring me down.”

“No… to which?” she asked, obeying his instructions. But Flurry Heart already felt better. She stretched her legs one at a time, feeling the blood return to her hooves after so long almost numb. It was long overdue. 

“Othar’s dust, esse. And I got here on your ship, actually. Qingzhi...” He shook his head. “Well, let’s just say I happened to be visiting on the worst day to take tourist photos. As it turns out, you can’t break the will of a city just by flying a big bomb over it and threatening to pull the trigger. Most people, they just don’t see it that way. Their family is their world, their lives. They aren’t gonna lay down and die because some collective might get hurt.” The metal on her wings fell away with another satisfying thunk. 

Then she heard the alarm. Bells rang through the Canterlot courtyard, and pounding feet sounded in the tower.

Perez pulled down his mask, returning the torch to its holster. “Got any money you can grab, Princess? This might be a long trip, and the resistance doesn’t exactly have a treasury.”

Then something banged on the bedroom doors. They were solid oak, another priceless work of Equestrian art, so they didn’t cave in right away. “Second thought, nevermind.” He strode past her, headed straight for the massive rain shower. There were a dozen solid gold heads inside, where a pony could stand and be drenched in a downpour as real as any Cloudsdale made. “Time to go, eh Princess? Unless you’d like to stay and fuck their shit for a few minutes.” He drew out a folding metal knife from his vest, flipping it out of its case and over his hand in a blur of flashing metal.

More bangs on the wooden door from behind them as he held it out to her. “It won’t make any real difference unless you make them feel it. Gotta give them something to remember for next time.”

Flurry Heart shook her head, frozen halfway between the door and the dragon. All this time and the reality hadn’t sunk in yet.

I’m escaping. Lucky sent help, and she’s getting me out.

Why couldn’t she save Equestria too?

If I stay, they’re going to hurt the ponies I love.

Her mind raced as someone banged on the back door. 

“We should probably get going, then,” Perez said casually. “Sooner we’re out of the city, the better. You have family waiting.”

“How will—”

But she didn’t finish before the dragon was ripping into the wall with a claw. Not tearing away the tile, though his claws could probably do it. There was a trapdoor there, tucked away in the back. He’d known exactly where to find it. 

But there was a steel plate under it, locked tight.

“Tempest said… they locked it all up,” she squeaked fearfully, glancing back at the entrance again. “There wasn’t supposed to be any way for me to escape.”

“Yeah, that’s cute.” He removed something from another pocket, spreading it around the plate in a large circle. Then he stepped back, gesturing for her to follow. “Bunch of fucking amateurs.”

There was a harsh crack from the bathroom, a little explosion of tearing steel and shattering tile. Another priceless relic of Princess Celestia was left in ruin. “Now, time to go,” Perez said through his mask, sounding amused. “Plan is to be out of the city before dark. We have to be far away from this castle before the whole fucking army gets here.”

Flurry Heart glanced once over her shoulder, at her mother’s dark corpse. She had half a mind to ask Perez to bring her, though she knew that was impossible. It seemed so wrong for the Storm King to desecrate the dead this way. Maybe that’s why Perez did his skull thing. It’s a kind of revenge.

“Okay,” she said, following the dragon into the passage, and didn’t look back.







Sarah didn’t have to keep glancing behind them to know they were being followed. She could hear the wings on the air, the occasional set of covert hoofsteps. The changelings following them probably thought they were following quietly, but her senses were too sharp.

“There are at least a dozen of them back there,” she whispered into the changeling’s ear, hoping she wasn’t underestimating their senses the way they were underestimating hers. “Keeping their distance for now.”

Ocellus wasn’t glowing and floating anymore, nor was her magic ripping bits of the environment away. She’d hacked most of the glowing stuff back up into the vial, in a disgusting display Sarah hadn’t watched but was forced to hear anyway.

It’s okay, I wanted to be around aliens. This is what I thought I would be doing. It’s fine.

“Yeah, I don’t think… I think maybe I overdid it. Chroma probably won’t like that I, uh… knocked over a building. Even if those guys were going for the wrong side. Chroma used to be mostly ours. My uncle will be really upset if I pissed them off.”

“We can pay them back,” Sarah whispered. She didn’t have a perfect memory for terrain, but it felt like they were getting close to Ocellus’s little shelter. “You said that stuff is money, right? Cities we can bribe. Thugs, though… I dunno what we’re going to do when they catch up.”

“They’ll keep their distance until we stop somewhere,” Ocellus whispered back. “They know how much power I have. The best way to take it is to kill us while we sleep. Can’t magic someone to bits if you’re asleep.”

Sarah sped up a little more, though she didn’t actually start running. Anything that could warn the ponies following that they knew might be enough to try and catch them. And if they did, well… Sarah still didn’t know how to fight. There hadn’t been any point, since she’d been scamming government organizations for so long. You could never win a contest of force, so cleverness was always better.

“So what do we do? I don’t think Chroma is going to get us a ride like you asked for. We can’t go back.”

Ocellus made an unsatisfied squeaking sound, not all that unlike the ones she used to see. Only it didn’t seem like her ears would allow her to use echolocation, at least not as well as Sarah did. “There’s another way. More dangerous, but… we have the royal jelly. We might be able to make it work.”

“Make what work?” She hadn’t been hallucinating—that really was Ocellus’s shelter up ahead. Only the pile of organic debris it had been carved from looked greatly reduced, smoothed and rounded on every corner. Like a flock of locusts had flown over and devoured the top layer of everything. There wasn’t a door anymore. “Shit, looks like we got visitors while we were gone. James better not be…”

“Your male will be fine,” Ocellus said, exasperated. “Thanks to me. The swarm would not harm him. They wouldn’t touch a cocoon.”

“Which… he has I guess.”

“Obviously.” Ocellus rolled her eyes. “I know it isn’t that common, but shouldn’t you know about this? Aren’t you the expert on our culture sent to help us unify and inherit the surface?”

“Well…” She looked away. “Most of the surface kinda sucks I think. Lots of boring rock without any air from places that Harmony killed. But last I checked we were working on a huge O'Neill cylinder. Dunno if you know what that is.”

To her surprise, the changeling nodded. They stopped together outside the burrow, Ocellus’s antennae drooping and her wings folding flat to her back. Despite what she’d said, she seemed disappointed to find her burrow had been visited. Or maybe just nervous about what they would find inside. “I already believe you, Sarah. It’s my uncle you have to win over. If you want to stop lots of changelings from dying, then probably you have to convince my father too. After everything he saw on the surface, that won’t be easy. Ponies are so determined to stay primitive…”

She bent down, crawling through the opening, and Sarah followed her in. If they were still being followed, that meant they couldn’t stop here for long, or else give the impression that they would be vulnerable to attack. Does that mean we’re going to have to drag a cocoon along with us? That would be just typical of James, finding a way to make me actually carry him.

The inside of the burrow had been almost completely stripped. There were no more boxes, no more containers of supplies, no more saddlebags. Even the separate bathroom had been eaten away, so that the whole thing was one gigantic space. “So much for the smell keeping them away.”

Ocellus glared at her. “The smell would’ve kept them away if it wasn’t for him.” She pointed at the only object left—one that hadn’t been there before. Instead of a pony curled up in Ocellus’s scrappy bedding, there was a bright green cocoon. Its shell reflected the light from Sarah’s glowing vial of glamour, and sounded soft to her ears.

“Did they put him in that?”

Ocellus shook her head. “He spun it himself. I’ve never seen it happen, but I knew it would.”

At least the strange object didn’t seem like it was firmly glued down, or else she wouldn’t have known how they could cut it free. Even Ocellus’s meager possessions were gone now, and whatever tools might’ve been inside. “So we’ve got lots of nasty characters right behind us. We can’t go back the way we came, and we can’t stop here. Also we have a giant lump to carry around instead of a person. What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

Ocellus shook her head once, gesturing with one hoof. “Give me the glamour again. We’re going to have to use a little of it to help him finish growing. You’re okay with that, right?”

Sarah shrugged. “I dunno why I wouldn’t be. It’s not my money to spend.” She passed the vial to Ocellus, who opened it back up with her teeth and poured a few drops on the cocoon. The result was immediate—the whole thing started to glow brilliantly green. Sarah watched in fascination, staring at the pony outline she saw inside. It wasn’t transparent exactly, but when the whole thing was glowing except for its occupant…

Then the pony started kicking. Instead of cracking, the cocoon stretched at his touch, becoming almost transparent. Sarah saw a black hoof covered in holes almost pass through its surface, but not quite break out.

“Is there anything sharp left? We could help cut him out—”

Ocellus rested a transparent wing on her shoulder. “No. Every changeling has to hatch on their own, even when we’re cheating.” She passed the corked vial back to Sarah for storage.

Sarah frowned, but didn’t protest. The pony inside might be her last connection with humanity, but this was an alien culture. She shouldn’t start resisting their customs until she learned why they’d become customs in the first place.

James fought again, and this time a black horn pierced the surface near his head. It didn’t look anything like the way Sarah remembered him—it was crooked and bent, like holes had been bored through it.

“Why doesn’t he look like you?” she asked, watching in morbid fascination. “You’re the one who changed him, right? Shouldn’t he be all… blue and pink and stuff? And you don’t have holes like that…”

Ocellus rolled her eyes. “You really don’t know anything about us.”

“Not until someone tells me.” She tried to listen at the entrance at the same time as they spoke, in case their tail was getting closer. But so far she couldn’t make anything out. We have to move quick.

“Alright, rapid summary. Changelings began as the bioformed autonomous maintenance system for this part of Equus. Dunno what happened to whatever system they used before us. Long time ago, there was a unicorn who captured a few and did experiments on us—experiments to try and make changelings smart. She succeeded, and became our first queen. Her hive was born from all the minds trapped in Harmony, who wanted to come down into reality but weren’t willing to give up all our memories. She found a way around the quarantine by using changeling bodies instead of being born the normal way. There’s… hardware. You can capture one of the maintenance bodies, then download a mind right in. A long time ago we used to set traps and stuff… but eventually we learned how to reproduce organically, so we raise grubs until they pupate and… you’re not listening.”

Sarah was listening, but she was also fascinated by the alien display in front of her. James was emerging from the cocoon, tearing it apart with horn and teeth as energetically as any hatching creature she’d ever seen before. Only, instead of coming out as a child, he seemed the same age. His hard black shell still looked soft and wrinkly though, and his wings were a crumpled mess. Every time he opened his mouth, it was to hack out a mouthful of slime.

“I’m listening,” she finally said. “I’ve just never seen one of… these before.” She gestured forward with a wing. “We don’t hatch where I come from. Most people either come out of their mom or a Biofab.”

Ocellus seemed completely uninterested in the hatching changeling, except that she kept glancing back with an expression like she wanted him to hurry. But she didn’t actually say it. “So we lived here for ages just like that. The intelligent systems left us alone, because they still saw us as part of themselves. So long as we didn’t actively sabotage anything. But there was a problem. See… bodies like his aren’t meant to have real minds in them. The system has security measures, and they eventually reject your control and return to the swarm. Our first queen’s method was to cheat the system by harvesting emotion from ponies and other bodies who are supposed to be intelligent. That’s what you’re holding there, in a concentrated form. We get our fill of love, and we get to stay ourselves. We run out, and the body rejects us. Back to the swarm, and back into Harmony.”

“That still doesn’t explain the difference,” Sarah said. “Between the two of you, I mean. You’re all colorful, and he’s black and full of holes. Why?”

“Well, that’s one of the other kinds of changeling. My uncle, Thorax, he’s kinda the king now… he went onto the surface and spent time with ponies. Made some friends… and he figured some stuff out. This is… where the division between the Old Hive and the Prismatic Court comes from. All you have to do is have enough real relationships with other creatures, and eventually the system recognizes that you’re intelligent and changes you. I guess somepony thought we’d put minds in the maintenance system. Or maybe Harmony just got sick of what we were doing and took control.”

“I can hear you…” croaked James, his voice raspy and pained. “I don’t like the part where… I’m some kind of disgusting parasite.” He tried to get to his hooves, but his legs didn’t seem to want to obey him. He was still unsteady, flopping around in the slime inside his cocoon. “I also didn’t like the part where you left me for dead.” His voice had the strange echoing quality that Ocellus’s did, only more so.

“So what’s the downside?” Sarah asked, ignoring him. “There must be one, or you guys wouldn’t be on the edge of a civil war.”

Ocellus looked away, pawing awkwardly at the ground with one hoof. “Weeeell… these new bodies are way more like ponies. Not a queen and a breeding drone, but males and females like mammals. Lots of us find it repulsive. And when we have grubs, they’re like ponies too. Come with minds of their own, wiped of all their memories. So we basically can’t reproduce if we want to keep our society going the way we have.”

“Everything about this is disgusting,” James said, finally managing to stand. His whole body dripped with something like mucus, dribbling out from openings in his legs, or out from under layers of chitin. “How do I not be a bug anymore?”

“Die,” Ocellus snapped, glaring at him. “You’ll lose all your memories, but you’ll find your way back eventually. That’s how it always works.”

James shook his head. His wings unfurled from behind him, spreading slowly as whatever passed for changeling blood filled them. Now that he was standing, Sarah realized she was now the tallest one in their group, though not by very much. “Dying seems like a waste. Gen3 made Perez into a dragon, she can make me into a person again. Hell, maybe she can do a real human next time.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Ocellus muttered. “We need to go. If the ones following us decide we’ve taken a chance to rest, they… might attack.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Hold on a minute, Ocellus! He’s got wings and a horn! All you changelings do! That’s cheating, isn’t it? I thought only Alicorns got that!”

“Pony bias.” Ocellus was already making her way out. “Almost all of us have all three. There were… a few minor glitches in some of the earliest changelings to take on Thorax’s new form, but… that doesn’t happen much anymore. Though our abilities don’t overlap. Your male will not have strength or weather magic.”

“I’m nobody’s male,” he snapped back, glaring at her as intently as she had been when he insulted changelings. “Not yet, anyway. We were in the middle of a date when Sarah took me down here.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, following Ocellus back out of the shelter. She listened intently as she crawled, and sure enough she could hear signs of covert watchers not far behind. At least they hadn’t moved up to attack the shelter. “It wasn’t a date. But Forerunner doesn’t let people go out alone, so… now you get to save the world with me. And all it cost was being made into a bug.” She stopped, glancing around as though she didn’t know they were being watched. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“There are three ways to get around,” Ocellus whispered into her ear. “A ship, the river, or the swarm. Guess which of those we can do without any preparation?”

“The one that sucks the most?” James offered, too loudly. He was plenty close enough to overhear, it seemed.

“Yes,” Ocellus agreed. “The instant they realize what we’re doing, they’ll attack us. They’ll want to get your glamour before the swarm kills us.”

Sarah grinned, finally understanding. “So we’ve got to wander around for a bit, make it look like we might be headed somewhere else. Maybe we’re part of some big wealthy faction they can rob from. Can you pick a confusing path that takes us to wherever we need to go, Ocellus? Doesn’t matter if it’s way longer. Probably should be.”

“Sure.” Ocellus nodded, returning her grin. Whatever else her compliment might’ve been went unsaid. The less they said, the fewer stupid mistakes they might make.

All they had to do was con their tails long enough to escape. And… maybe not get eaten by the maintenance system.







To some extent, Olivia guessed that most of Motherlode was out to watch the Emperor’s landing. It didn’t matter how late at night it was, or how diurnal ponies were by nature.

She waited with the crowd behind a large loading ramp, where she could mix in among the ponies and not feel too out of place. Her replacement limb was the only giveaway—she carried no other equipment or armor that might’ve set her apart. Of course, she still wasn’t a local, and she could feel the constant stares on her back.

A few ponies asked her questions, the same questions she had heard so many times since arriving in town. Were they here to save Equestria? Did they have a plan to rescue the princesses? What would they do if the Storm King came to Motherlode? What sort of magic did they plan to use to defeat him? The first few times Olivia had tried to give truthful responses to those questions, even though the tactician in her told her that spreading knowledge as scarcely as possible was safest.

After all, they were going to be hiding a rebellion. It would take the silence of thousands to keep hidden here, and only one pony with a loose tongue to get them all killed.

Well, all of them except Forerunner. Even losing most of himself in the destruction of Othar had not killed him. Olivia suspected that he had plans in place even if Sanctuary itself was destroyed. Forerunner had been built to survive, even if he couldn’t upgrade anymore.

She should’ve been able to hear the Emperor coming from a great distance, given how much it weighed and the drives required to keep it airborne. But pony lift crystals meant that it only burned for acceleration, which made far less noise. Even so, she could make out the thrum of the engine when they were perhaps a kilometer out, echoing off the various peaks that surrounded Motherlode. She wouldn’t have known which direction to watch, except that everyone had been told. It would come from the east, and settle down into a valley that was almost impossible to access by foot. It better work. If we lose the Emperor, the Storm King could remake Equestria in his image before we get the chance to rebuild.

Simple, they just had to win.

Olivia wasn’t the only one out of the Wing of Midnight. Almost all of them were here, speaking with groups of locals, trying to assuage their fears or just answering simple questions. Princess Lucky was surrounded with ponies, most of which seemed to be asking questions she couldn’t answer about where her powers had come from and what she was princess of.

She answered in Eoch so perfect Olivia’s translator treated her like a native speaker, and made it easy enough for her to understand. “General Qingzhi is one of the best we have. He’s saved planets from tyrants before, he’ll know how to win this before it turns into a war.”

Be careful doing away with military secrecy, Lucky. We have good reasons for doing things the way we do. Changing things around without understanding our reasons is only going to end in pain.

But she wasn’t the governor anymore, and even if she had been these ponies wouldn’t care. It was having a princess that had made the difference in their eyes. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to Olivia like that had been the only thing that convinced them in the end. They seemed to think that this entire operation had been Celestia’s plan from the beginning, or at least that she’d seen this disaster on the horizon and planned for it.  It was remarkable how quickly they’d forgotten about the rumors of humans assassinating her.

“You’ll see it any second now,” Lucky said in Eoch, from the top of the hill. Her voice carried well, though the translator added a bit of delay. “I’ve instructed Qingzhi to make sure the camouflage is off, so you should be able to see it clearly. There are lights on the bottom, and they’ll use them to find a good place to land.”

Then it came into view, and the whole crowd of ponies gasped. This was no mere airship, as the Wing of Midnight had been. That vessel had been advanced, but still not that far outside their experience. But the Emperor, that was more like a city. Bigger than Motherlode by far, if you didn’t count the mines. It wasn’t a graceful, aerodynamic marvel, more like several large buildings welded together with a flat runway near the top layer. Even so, it had the ponies in awe.

Hot air blasted past them—but far less than there would’ve been if it was using a conventional engine to stay aloft. Pony lift crystals did not have exhaust, so it was only the heat from the maneuvering jets that they felt.

The lower it got, the more it became clear just how massive the Emperor’s Soul was. Its tallest command tower rose almost as high as some of the neighboring peaks. It would barely be able to hide here. But they hadn’t been able to find anywhere better. It had to be close enough that they could transfer supplies and people easily in and out of the town.

There was no incredible impact as it landed—no sound at all. Olivia understood that it wouldn’t even be touching the ground, though there might only be a tolerance of inches in places. There were no ramps or boarding platforms—not yet—and no dock facilities prepared to receive them.

But that will change. Once Forerunner gets started.

A white and blue pony from beside Olivia startled her, though her expression was timid and she kept her wings folded. “Is that… that thing… really gonna save Equestria?” she asked, with the brief delay from the translator. 

“No,” Olivia answered, without even thinking. “But the ones inside it will.”