//------------------------------// // 30: High-tech solutions to spindly problems. // Story: Halls of the Changeling King // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// They rush forward, everyone's eyes peeled. One empty corridor later, Eight has to nod her head, and acknowledge Gem's alchemy skill. "I can't see nor hear us at all. This is amazing and horrifying at the same time." Thankfully, communication which wouldn't reveal them is no problem for changelings. "During my first months in Canterlot, I wasn't even allowed to go around the block unaccompanied, which wasn't exactly a problem for me, but miss One got bored very quickly, so she started teaching me the much more advanced infiltrator strategies and methods of moving around undetected." "I had no idea One had any interest in potions," Eight sounds genuinely surprised, although she keeps her ears peeled for anything, "Didn't she always say that focusing on too many things will make you useless at everything?" "What? No!" Gem pauses for a second, "I mean, she does refuse wasting too much time on anything unrelated to body control or biology, but she does have vested basic interest in pretty much everything." "Waaaaaaaaaaaait..." Eight shoots a glance at Gem, "What do you mean by One getting bored during your first months in Canterlot? Four? Four? Fuck!" she realizes the whole group has stopped, completely ignoring Eight's question. Sitting by the wall ahead is a creature which can't be any other than a Twisted. They all sense a stab of panic from Five who is the only one who got a clear look at a Twisted up close before. It is vaguely equine, but its head looks as if it had been split in two some time in the past. From the wound, black worms occasionally drop on the floor where they get snatched by tentacles wrapped around the Twisted's legs, and absorbed back into the body. The dripping eyeballs turn with a squelch, and the abomination starts carefully walking towards the group. "Get ready to evaporate that thing before it can do anything!" is Eight's mental message. "No!" opposes Five, "I apologize for my insubordination-" "Don't waste time with apologies, Five. Speak!" Eight barks at her. "These Twisted didn't look too smart to me. I think if this one knew we were here, it would be already attacking. Maybe it's just curious about your flying sword, Three’s helmet, my grenade launcher, and miss Gem's vials and backpack?" Eight ponders that for a second. It's a good suggestion. If Gem's potions are working as intended, the changelings shouldn't be possible to detect by any senses other than unnaturally excellent hearing which could overcome both the potion's sound dampening effect and the changeling's transformed hooves. Or some kind of echolocation, maybe. Despite her self-control, Eight can't stifle the quietest of angry growls at the shared memory of what they did to Two. The Twisted immediately focuses on the sword sheathed on the side of her neck. "Alright, let's do it Five's way. If we even think it's going to attack or do anything... infection-y, the target jumps back and we spit acid. That's an order, don't argue." In complete physical and mental silence, the jerky advance of the Twisted stops by the side of barely breathing Eight. It glares at the sword, as far as Eight can tell, but doesn't do anything. Experimentally, Eight takes few steps forward. The Twisted doesn't react in any way other than turning its head to follow the floating weapon. With their heads turning from the Twisted to the corridor forward, the group pass the first threat and continue towards the dark priest Enclave. "Good idea, Five." "Thank you, queen." ”Excellent potion work, Gem,” Eight doesn’t forget her either. ”I know,” Gem just grins, which sadly no one can see. ”You know, we could just clear the Twisted out like this,” says Eight, ”They wouldn’t know what hit them. Especially with Five’s grenade launcher.” ”I’m not sure if that would be a good idea...” mumbles Three. ”We can’t make friends with everyone, Three.” ”I… I know that… but we can with almost everyone. Miss Scream said that that Vigil baddie was able to adapt to anything that wouldn’t kill him outright, so if he wanted the spindlies out, they might be connected, and if we let someone escape, they all might come back stronger than before. They have some hive mind too.” ”Hmmm...” the group, having passed several faintly curious Twisted, enter the dark priest enclave, ”Interesting train of thought. Alright, let’s not do anything unless they attack us. Besides, time we spend fighting is time we’re not spending by looking for the poison samples.” ”True. Woooow… I haven’t even read about architecture like this,” Gem’s eyes go wide in wonder as she examines the pristine white walls of the enclave, only occasionally covered in splatters of blood, scratches, or gooey remnants of a Twisted, ”Let’s stay safe and avoid stepping into those.” It’s Five who has the presence of mind to stop Gem’s curiosity from slowing them down too much. ”Three, where do we start looking? Or do we have to search this place from top to bottom?” ”I only know the route to the workshops,” Three shrugs, then grins, ”Miss Scream? MISS SCREEEEEAAAAM!” A burning portal clearly visible only to the changelings appears on the wall nearby, and the requested golden alicorn steps through, much to Gem’s gasp. Thankfully, there aren’t any Twisted around to hear it. ”Did someone just take the demigoddess’ name in vain?” Scream smiles. Her smile freezes instantly when she looks around and realizes where the group are, ”Wait, why in my infinitely hospitable holes are you back here?” ”We need a translator, miss Scream,” Three takes charge. ”Do I look like a dictionary to you, hug bug?” Scream pouts, but there’s no apparent anger in her voice. ”I’m pretty sure there’s a dick in you somewhere, yes,” Eight jumps in, ”Now can we haul ass?” ”Heeeey, it’s the world’s biggest and buggest fleshlight. It’s good that you’re back, punch bug,” Scream frowns suddenly, looking at Gem, ”Huh, you feel familiar for some reason.” Gem tilts her head as Scream walks around her, examining her with a thoughtful expression. ”Alright, can someone enlighten me as to why there is a mental projection of an alicorn here?” ”Long story,” Eight waves her foreleg, ”She’s been equally helpful and annoying, but she helped boss give Three a new body, so we tolerate her.” ”Now that is something that deserves respect. Thank you very much, miss Scream,” Gem bows. ”See, punch bug? Finally someone with proper manners,” Scream sniffs a vial on a belt around Gem’s chest, ”Hah, got it! Drug bug.” ”My name is Gem, miss Scream.” Eight pats Gem’s back. ”Don’t bother. You’re drug bug now. Learn to live with it until she gets bored with us and leaves.” ”My question still stands, why are you down here again?” Scream taps her hoof against the floor impatiently. ”We need to find another poison sample to possibly cure the boss,” Gem quickly recaps their goal, ”The best chance is that it’s down here, but we’ve got no way to find out where to go.” ”Oh, I see. You need me to translate that big, flashing sign reading ‘Onwards to poison’,” Scream points at the distant wall. There’s nothing there. ”Oooh, ooooh,” Three jump up and down, ”Is there the invisible red writing like before?” ”No, I was being… nevermind,” Scream facehoofs, ”So, you need something like a laboratory.” ”We need… down,” Eight furrows her brows, ”Granite spent some time here, and I think he read something about some research. I don’t think we need to search the top floors. We need to go down.” ”As good a direction as any,” Scream shrugs, ”I faintly recall some stairs being behind the central park.” Nothing could have prepared Gem for the sight awaiting her as they leave the corridor which opens into the burned central park. Black, rotting corpses are strewn everywhere, some partially burned or liquified and in the process of changing into more Twisted. The stench is overwhelming, and while the others have absorbed at least some experience from Three’s and Six’s diamond adventure, Gem gags. Hundreds of Twisted crawling over the walls, railings, and the ceiling up ahead turn their heads around to look at the single ‘empty’ point in space. ”Uh oh...” Five raises her grenade launcher. Like a black, dripping tide, the Twisted lurch forward. -There is nothing here.- In the wake of the mental command, the Twisted stop, and the entire area goes quiet again. ”L-Let’s go,” Gem lets out a shaky mental whisper. With Scream and Three leading the way through the park, Five can’t stop herself from giving Gem a look of wonder. ”You… you can control all of them? Are you really the queen’s brood?” ”Miss Eight is my mom, and the boss is my dad,” says Gem, silently trotting along, ”But my teacher was miss One who used to be the best infiltrator in the old hive, better at mental stuff even than queen Chrysalis herself… at least that’s what she said. To be honest, I’ve never had any way to compare myself to anyone since miss One left, so I don’t know how good I am,” she glances upwards at the silent Twisted, ”I can feel their linked minds. They are simple, extremely so. Even less than animals. If we draw their attention directly, I won’t be able to stop something as single-minded as they are, but as long as they don’t know we’re here, I think I can keep them off of our backs. So, don’t bump into one, and we might be okay.” *** ”You know, the more I see of this place, the more certain I am that this really did use to be a prison,” says Scream after over an hour of walking through the enclave and the group taking a second dose of Gem’s invisibility potion each, ”At first, I was guessing, but I’m pretty sure now.” At this point, it’s somewhat clear that there aren’t any dwarves alive down here anymore. Thankfully, it seems that in absence of targets to attack, the Twisted don’t move around too much, which is a faint glimmer of hope for Brauheim. As they descend down onto what is the bottom floor, at least according to the ending stairs and Scream’s translation of the symbols meaning ‘BF0’, Eight nods. ”Granite’s memories showed me some mentions in the translations he did. I think some of those also said something about experiments on the prisoners underground.” ”Under-underground,” mutters Five, slinking past a seemingly asleep Twisted. ”The translations mentioned something about some Living End project,” Eight works through the darker corners of her brief trip inside Granite, ”Something related to some great weapon. There must be something useful down here. I refuse to believe this is just some storage space for food and resources,” she peeks into an open room which is completely devoid of anything, ”Although it looks like that so far.” ”Well, considering the Silversmiths are all gone, I think calling their research ‘useful’ might be an overstatement,” sneers Scream. ”AH HAH!” Three sniffs the air, and then bolts forward into the maze of tunnels. After a quick exchange of glances, everyone follows. The quick chase ends with Three staring at a shelf filled with crystalline vials of brown liquid which seems to swirl on its own despite any interference, ”These smell like boss’ wound!” ”Good nose!” Eight takes a deep whiff. Three must have been by boss’ side for so long he could catch the scent better than she did. That, or he’s a magical superdrone who will eventually become a changeling overlord sending his minions to hug the world in order to make everyone feel better. At this point it’s a fifty-fifty, ”Gem, got what you need?” Gem takes a sample, examines its contents and grins. After quick retrospection, she grabs all she can fit into the vial holster on her chest. ”Just in case,” she explains, ”Also, these vials aren’t glass, but they don’t react with chemicals as well, and they are much harder. Even if I don’t use the poison, I can always find use for sturdier travelling gear.” ”Alright, we’ve got what we came for,” says Eight, ”Let’s not push our luck further, and get out.” ”Wait waitwaitwaitwait!” Three taps his hoof against the floor, then peeks outside to see if there aren’t any Twisted coming. When he sees he’s safe, he jumps up and down. The noise is echoed by distant tapping this time, making him freeze. ”WHAT do you think you’re doing?!” asks Eight. Three stands on his hind legs, and presses his forelegs against a wall at a dead end of the corridor. ”There’s something behind this wall, miss Eight. Sounds echo weird in this place.” ”Gem, can you deal with the Twisted coming this way?” Eight looks at the changeling in the back. ”Yes, I can. They’re suspicious, but not directly engaged yet,” Gem nods. The distant approaching noises stop, and Gem wipes her forehead. ”Done. They’re a bit confused why they were walking this way in the first place, but they aren’t moving anymore.” Three runs around after pushing against the unmoving wall. Soon, Eight can’t take it, and gives it a shot herself. It doesn’t move, nor does it give any indication that it might move when even more force is applied. Scream, seemingly undisturbed by the changeling antics and unbothered by their invisibility, finishes examining the ceiling with a thoughtful hum. ”There is a thin slit here,” she says. ”I thought it was one of the air vents,” Three nods, ”There’s one like this above most of the doors in this place.” ”Yeah, the thing is that I can’t feel any flow of air.” ”Maybe whatever was powering those shut down when the dark priests got mangled?” Five hazards a guess. ”Nah,” Scream shakes her head, ”This is Silversmith stuff. It doesn’t need operators. They built things to LAST.” ”Lemme look, then!” Three bounces up and down under the slit with no effect, ”Miss Eight, can I climb on you?” Now, the changelings have a vague idea where each one is, but climbing atop each other while invisible and inaudible is an exercise in clownery. Too bad only the maniacally laughing alicorn nearby can see it in its full glory. Eventually, though, Three is successfully standing on probably Eight’s back, and as soon as he looks up at the slit, it beeps. “...uhh, hello…?” Three whispers into the slit. ”Oh my,” Scream’s eyes go wide as she sees rays of energy probably invisible even to the changelings envelop Three, and then stop on the helmet he’s wearing. “Efess thau,” says a voice coming from the ceiling at a volume of normal conversation. ”Access granted,” translates the alicorn. With a hiss, a section of the suspicious wall slides to the side, disappearing and showing a corridor sloping downwards. “...thank you...” Three waves at the slit, then jumps down. ”Move, explanations later!” hisses Gem, ”They’re coming to see what the voice was. Forcing them away now that they’re alarmed would do more harm than good.” The first Twisted’s spidery legs grip the corner of the corridor behind the group, and a toothy head peeks from behind it, examining the area. The group need no further persuasion to rush into the unknown. ”That’s the dwarf king’s helmet, right?” asks Scream, checking the hallway behind them. The Twisted are out of sight, but no one can say whether they’ve stopped, or whether they’re following. ”Mhm,” Three nods, ”Boss let me keep it. Mister Granite was against it at first, but boss insisted. It wouldn’t fit him, because he’s a dwarf anyway. It’s a bit too big.” ”Yeeeeah… I wonder why...” Scream narrows her eyes. As they run forward, another quiet beep stops them, and a section of the wall to the left slides away, this time without a word. With a shrug, Eight peeks into a hexagonal room which looks exactly like the antechamber of the seal which kept Twisted locked away. It seems that long hallways and these kinds of room were standard issue for Silversmith building design. A hexagonal door is directly opposite the entrance. ”Have Three go first,” says Scream, ”I think those dwarves are dumb enough to keep a Silversmith helmet as a religious artefact instead of figuring out how to copy it. It might prevent us from triggering an alarm or something.” Eight slows down and waits until Three is leading the way. The drone enters the room along with Scream, and the other door opens. ”Alright, let’s go!” orders Eight. As soon all changelings are inside the room, and Eight steps under another scanning slit, loud sirens start blaring everywhere. In the next instant, silver rain covers the entire area, coating the changelings in glittering goo rendering their invisibility potions useless. [ASSER INDERZEN] ”Invisible intruders,” yells Scream, translating on request. Gem feels the hive mind of the Twisted move as one. ”THEY’RE COMING!” No one needs further explanation. As they rush into the corridor further into the depths, Gem turns around to see if any Twisted are already nearby, and notices a blinking panel next to the open door. She jumps towards it, and starts poking various pictures made of light on it. “COME ON!” yells Eight, deciding that hive mind communication is a waste of energy at this point. “I can close it, I think!” says Gem’s silvery silhouette with legs invisible from the shins down. A Twisted jumps into the room, and as soon as it spots the unknown, glittering, equine-like form ahead, it pounces at her. Unfortunately for it, Eight punches the control panel of the door in front of Gem, and the door forcefully shuts, crushing the Twisted but leaving it cracked open. “Got the keys right here,” Eight waves her hoof, and smacks Gem over the head, “Now hurry!” The deeper part of the complex doesn’t seem too big, as the corridor the changelings are in ends quickly in a T-section with a door in the middle. The left route is identical to any Silversmith corridor before, but the right route quickly widens. Unceremoniously, Eight grabs Three by his barrel and shoves him right to the ceiling. [AMAR FEIN] The door remains closed. ”Insufficient rank,” translates Scream, and reads the writing by the wall, ”Restricted area. Huh, this place looks important.” “Five, let’s try some lateral lockpicking! Gem, take the left path and see what’s down there. Three, Scream, have a look to the right. If the Twisted come, it’s better that they meet us first,” Eight barks out orders, and immediately punches the door. Five joins in, kicking it shortly after. Three doesn’t wait for anything, and runs off. The wide corridor ends up in a ramp slightly sloping down towards a door three times bigger than any seen before. Thankfully, it beeps and opens as soon as Three gets near. ”Ooooh, armory,” Scream grins, ”That sounds fun.” The room behind the door is MASSIVE. It could easily swallow the entire old Canterlot house. Three runs off to a ton of tubular things hanging one above each other in rows on the wall, and grabs the nearest one. “What’s this?” Three points the narrower end of the thing at the wall. ”Looks gun-y,” Scream examines it, ”This would be a hoof trigger,” she shows Three a button-like thing on the side with a metal holder into which his hoof fits, ”And I’m sure this is the front,” she points towards one side of the weapon ending in a circle made of much smaller tubes. Three clicks the trigger several times, but nothing happens. “We must be missing something,” he says, shoving the huge weapon on his back, “I like making friends more than shooting anyway.” ”Then I think you’ll love this,” Scream teleports to the opposite end of the room where there are few things which look like massive metal ponies which would snugly fit into the Silversmith corridors. The pony doesn’t react when Three approaches. The drone, however, notices sort of steps built into one of the pony’s forelegs, and climbs up onto its back. Everything is made of the same shiny metal as the walls, but near the pony’s neck there are four indentations as well as a short line of softer padding. Three lies on it, and puts his legs into the indentations to hug the huge, mechanical pony. “Hey, this looks like it was made for me!” he giggles. Floating screens made of light appear in a half-circle in front of Three. Scream swims through the air towards him, and translates the big line of text on the central screen. ”Enter a login and a password, or use an authentication token.” Three lowers his helmet to the screen, and the line changes. ”Welcome, number 30554892.” “IT KNOWS ME!” Three claps his hooves together, beaming like a lighthouse, both metaphorically and literally due to his runes, “Miss Scream, what do I push now?” “A variant of common language detected,” a raspy voice comes from the the machine, “Species - changeling. Switching to voice activation. How may this unit assist you?” “EEEEP! IT TALKS!” squees Three, giving in to his primal instinct of ‘when in doubt, hug’. A shimmering barrier envelopes him as he lays on the machine’s back. ”Energy shield to protect the operator,” says Scream, ”This is some kind of a Silversmith mech. I faintly recall that they did use them to defend some of their main hubs. You can’t use these in normal underground due to the size.” ”EVERYONE, THE TWISTED ARE AT THE T-SECTION!” Three hears Eight’s voice, ”FIVE AND I GOT THROUGH THE DOOR, AND WE’VE MANAGED TO CLOSE IT BEHIND US. AS FAR AS WE CAN TELL, THIS IS SOME STRANGE LABORATORY, AND THERE’S THIS WEIRD FLOATING SCREEN SHOWING WHAT’S GOING ON OUTSIDE. THEY ARE SPREADING OUT. HOW ARE THINGS ON YOUR END?” A quick image flickers through the minds of everyone, showing Gem surrounded by more delicate mechanical ponies of normal sizes who look like the one Three met right before they released the Twisted. These guys don’t talk or move, though. ”This place looks like some kind of living quarters, but the only things here are these machines,” says Gem, ”I made some more useful potions, plus some soap so I’m invisible again. Don’t worry about me, I’m the safest one here. I didn’t get anything useful, though,” her message and mental images end with her sneaking between three Twisted walking through a door leading to Gem’s place, ”I think Three is in the worst spot.” ”Damn it!” curses Eight, ”Three, just hide for now. We’ll think of a way to get to you. There’s some protective gear here, so it might help with staying uninfected.” ”Okay, miss Eight. Just be careful so that none of you end up like Two,” replies Three. As he wants to pull his legs out of the indentations, mechanical contraptions lock them in place. “Hey, lemme go!” he hisses. “Multiple Twisted signatures approaching. Leaving is inadvisable,” drones the mech. “Yeah, that’s the baddies! We gotta leave before they eat us and make us eat our friends,” Three considers shapeshifting into something smaller to get out. “Use manual controls, commander.” “I’m Three. Nice to meet you!” “Accepting designation. Awaiting input, Three.” “I don’t know what to do! What do I push? HOW do I push when my legs are locked in?” “Deactivating manual controls. Engaging assisted mode. Awaiting orders.” “Umm… walk?” says Three. The mech straightens up a little before- *Thud!* *Thud!* *Thud!* -walking around the room in a less than sneaky fashion. “I WILL CALL YOU STOMPY!” yells Three, both ecstatic and scared. The first Twisted lunge through the open gate, their eyes immediately locking on Stompy turning to face them, “Aaah! The baddies are here. Stompy, we gotta get out!” “Clearing exit path,” panels on the top of the mech’s forelegs slide away. Jets of fire incinerate the first incoming Twisted as Stompy starts walking towards the gate, cleansing hellfire sending Twisted scampering away. In his protective energy bubble, Three barely feels any heat coming his way. “They’re really mad!” says Three, “Huh, maybe they just need a hug.” Stompy locks his hind legs in place, raises his torso, grabs the nearest Twisted, and crushes it into paste between the hooves of his forelegs. “Target hugged. All hostility disappeared,” announces Stompy, returning to all fours. “You. Are. The. Best!” Three grins from ear to ear. “Now go straight forward to the closed lab door,” Three realizes he can’t point, so he nods his head ahead. The Twisted scatter away from Stompy’s flamethrowers and laser artillery which obliterates the closest ones, leaving only scorched piles of flesh. Scorched piles of flesh which bubble as they slowly regenerate and reshape back into horrifying burning skeletons. Only the ones crushed and properly burnt afterwards stay dead, leaving a wake of slowly recovering enemies behind Three. However, they don’t seem too eager to attack again. As such, Stompy and Three soon reach the T-section, and the mech points his back to the lab door and front to the hesitant main mass of the Twisted. “Invisible target detected,” another panel, this time on Stompy’s side slides away, opening a row of nozzles to the side corridor which Gem was exploring. ”Whoa whoa whoa whoa, WHAT THE HOLE IS THAT?!” Three feels Gem gasp and back off. “That’s Four, Stompy. She’s super nice. I remember her being tiny and spindly, and she’s now got all the bits stallions like. I know what they are for now, because miss Eight showed me-” “Designation - ally,” Stompy interrupts Three’s recap of Four’s life by a barrage of lasers which each miss Gem and shred two Twisted behind her returning to see what’s going on here. The invisible changeling trots under Stompy, taking cover between his legs. Four sets of claws start opening the laboratory door behind Stompy in a shower of sparks, revealing Eight and Five under her. They choke when they see Tompy in his full size, much to Three’s pride. “Multiple changeling signatures detected within the restricted area,” reports Stompy. “They’re all friends, Stompy. I’ll tell you all about them later, they’re awesome,” Three twists around in his imprisoned state to smile at the incoming duo, “Miss Eight, Five, this is Stompy, he’s my new friend. He likes making new friends too,” Three sighs, “I wish the spindly guys were our friends too.” “Lighting fires of friendship,” announces Stompy. In the next moment, a small, glowing, red ball shoots out of his mouth, landing between the Twisted who back off. When nothing happens, the swarm around the ball. *Whoosh!* Like a gust of wind, almost liquid fire erupts in the hallway, turning it into a tunnel of flames and screeching which hurts to look at. Eight and Five use the moment to get out of the laboratory. Five is carrying some sort of a big, white device on her back what looks like a short beam with straps on the bottom. In the back, green, pulsating glow is reflecting off of the wall. Seeing the back-mounted thingy, Three remembers the similar, only rounder, weapon on his own chitin. “Hey, Stompy, what’s the thing on my back?” “LGT three-sixty - a side-mounted laser gatling turret. Unlocking.” The weapon on Three’s back beeps. Three realizes his forelegs have been freed, and throws it to Five. “Five, catch. I think it’s a shooty gun!” “I like the gun part,” Five gives her own device to Eight who puts it on her back, “Side-mounted, did you say, metal thing?” “Mount on the side of the barrel, extend the telescopic leg on the bottom, aim and operate with a foreleg,” explains Stompy. Five fumbles with it for a moment, and soon gets the hang of it, pulls out a long metal tube from the bottom all the way to the floor, aims at the hesitating Twisted in the side corridor, and pulls the hoof trigger similar to the one on her grenade launcher. A barrage of lasers obliterates the creature. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!” Five laughs like a madpony, “No recoil, one-eighty degrees of energy-based doom! If Six wanted my undying love, he should have gotten me THIS from here, not some silly rock.” With the Twisted retreating back to both side tunnels and the chemically smelling fire ahead dying down, Eight sees their chance and calls out: “We’re leaving while the bastards are scared. Go go go!” Five packs her mobile laser turret back, deciding that her dwarven grenade launcher will be much more useful for running, although the loss in firepower brings a tear to her eye. With Three repeating the order to Stompy, they all follow the mech back the way they originally came. “Hey, Stompy,” yells Eight again, “What’s the thing on my back? We took it from the lab. It looked important, being on a central pillar and all.” “Living End project detail not found. General specification - back-mounted weapon, requires senior rank to operate, no override allowed, do not use in enclosed spaces, stay out of the way. Effects - unknown.” Pushing through the enclave corridors with Stompy in front is much easier than any of the changelings could expect in their wildest dreams. Defending the back is a lot more difficult due to the need to keep the Twisted at a distance, but Five’s grenade launcher does a valiant job as long as ammo lasts. *Click!* “Uh oh,” says Five. “Come on, we’re near the central park, and we must have chewed through a hundred of the damn things. Twice in a lot of cases,” growls Eight. Gem grows a claw, cuts her foreleg, and within few seconds gives Five two filled vials. “That’s the best I can do while moving,” she says, “Throw them both when they recover and group up.” “Why don’t you do that?” asks Five, “I mean no subordination, but only you know what you just made.” “My hoof-eye coordination isn’t the greatest, trust me. The fact that I haven’t tripped in all this rush yet is a small miracle in itself. Remember, they need to both break, or it will be useless.” “Alright,” Five simply nods. They can almost see the vast expanse of the central park, vast at least in comparison to the claustrophobic tunnels filled with the Twisted. Before they can get into the wide open area, the Twisted realize that another fire grenade isn’t on the way, and charge towards the changelings. Five waits… and waits… and waits... ...and throws. At first, everyone’s ears pop as the chemicals incinerate all air in an area now filled with Twisted almost instantly with a thunderclap. Next, the created vacuum slurps the nearest lump of enemies together. And finally, the other chemical ignites, spreading blue and green flames through the air as more and more oxygen further away burns, fueled by the fire spreading over the new and resurrected Twisted deeper in the tunnels. The screaming and screeching is deafening, but it has nothing on the cacophony of noise from ahead. They have finally reached the central park. Only a short distance is left before they’re out of the enclave. Unfortunately… Like before, the whole wide open area is teeming with Twisted as if all the slaughter the changelings have gone through didn’t make a dent in their numbers. They’re all glaring at the mouth of the tunnel from which the changelings have just stepped out. “Damn, I thought there would be a lot less of them...” Eight breathes out in disbelief. “Umm, Stompy? That’s a lot of spindlies...” mumbles Three. “Combat in an open area is highly inadvisable,” says the mech. “But we need to get back home, and they’re blocking the only way!” “Deployment of critical countermeasures required. Rank sufficient,” as Stompy says that, the large weapon on Eight’s back starts humming, “Use the Living End project device.” “That thing?” asks Three who finds all his legs unlocked. “Yes. You have been marked for a field promotion into rank - High-General. Strap the weapon on your back. The narrower end goes to the front.” “Miss E-” before Three can finish his request, Eight is already standing atop Stompy and strapping Three under the big weapon. “It has something to do with your helmet,” she pats Three’s head, “This one’s on you, Three. Make boss and me proud,” she jumps off. Three stands up on all fours, swaying a little under the weight of the heavy weapon. Finally, the Twisted start crawling towards them like a black tide covering the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. “Taunt required for maximum badass,” announces Stompy, and a black pad opens where the mech operator’s head would be, “Speak directly into the microphone.” “Hey, spindlies- MY EARS! OWOWOWOW!” Three clutches his head as his many times amplified voice makes even the Twisted pause for a heartbeat. The Twisted charge. “Fire,” says Stompy, and Three obediently pushes the side button on the weapon. It starts humming louder. “Stompy, I don’t think it does anyth-” *Whommmmmmmm!* A glowing green ball of pulsating energy shoots out of the weapon at the pace of a slow trot, and expands into the rough size of Three. The force of the blast propels Three backwards off of Stompy’s back and straight onto his butt. “Oww...” Three rubs his backside before looking ahead. His eyes go wide, and his jaw drops. The casually forward travelling projectile is letting out arcing green lightning into all directions, frying Twisted who are dropping like flies. Correction - pieces of whom are dropping like flies. Some evaporate in the air. “Whhh… whaaaa… nngh...” Three stares at the devastation he wrought. “GO GO GO!” yells Eight, “GO! NOW!” “I… I… what did I do…?” tears start welling in Three’s eyes at the slaughter as he whimpers, “They… they’re all gone. They had those long legs… so good for… They were made to hug... and I… I did… I… I k-k-killed-” “YOU JUST SENT THEM TO REMEDIAL FRIENDSHIP CAMP!” Eight grabs him, putting the drone and the still hot weapon on her back, “THEY WERE SO HAPPY TO GO THAT THEY JUST FORGOT TO PACK SOME STUFF… like legs… or heads...” Three cheers up instantly. “You mean they’ll come back as friends?!” “Yeah, sure. I would,” Eight rolls her eyes, galloping forward. The projectile is dissipating, but there’s no threat ahead anymore. “YAY! I’VE GOT A WORKING BIG FRIENDSHIP GUN!” Three hugs Eight’s back harder. “Just be a good drone, and don’t even think about ever using it on someone who already is your friend, deal?” Gem chuckles nervously, “Or who isn’t directly hostile… or in any civilized area.” “Sure thing, Four- I mean, Gem!” And so they run. The bedrock tunnels outside the enclave are big enough for Stompy, revealing the true purpose behind their size. Even the Silversmith corridors leading all the way to the lower magma stream where Eight almost met her doom are alright, and same goes for the hexagonal pad right above the burning magma. The stairs leading up the side of the crevasse, however, are obviously not made for Stompy. “We can’t leave Stompy down here!” objects Three when he realizes there’s no way the mech can ever get up, “He’s my friend!” “No use of the B-F-G necessary,” Stompy nods. “We might be able to carry him up,” Eight looks upwards at the distant cliff edge lost in the darkness, “We’re low on love, but this should be a worthwhile use for it.” “Jetpack ready,” announces Stompy, “Please, specify destination.” “Wut?” Three blinks, and points up, “We need to get up there!” Loud humming starts from Stompy’s hooves, and the mech begins slowly floating upwards. Eight and Four exchange glances, then shrug. ”Silversmith design,” Scream flies past, ”It just works, and it works well.” However, the tunnel leading up to the castle isn’t of Silversmith design, it’s dwarven. Several pony lengths in, the tunnel narrows down to dwarf size, letting changelings in, but leaving Stompy unable to progress even despite clamping his legs together and lowering at the knees. “Damn it...” Eight punches the wall, more in frustration at her own mistake in not realizing this was going to happen than the situation itself, “This is a problem. The monsters will follow us here, and the dwarves have no idea what they’re against. Stompy, can you stay here and protect this passage while we figure out how to get you here?” “My systems will disengage automatically after a short time period without an operator. It’s a failsafe against A.I. going haywire,” explains Stompy. Not that the changelings understand much, but Gem has heard about the term artificial intelligence. Come to think of it, there used to be a mechanical pony in Canterlot similar in design to those in the sleeping quarters at the lab. Now’s not a good time to ponder it, though. Gem claps her hooves together. “Three, I need to borrow your head.” “Sure.” Unlike others, Gem can use all senses and experience of Three’s body to their full potential, and after stomping around, she marks the wide tunnel mouth in several places. “Miss Eight, punch these places in the pointed out order. Don’t hold back,” she says when she returns fully into her own body. Eight does as she’s told, watching cracks spread with each blow. When the final punch lands, the tunnel starts to crumble, and Eight returns deeper inside to the others. A moment later, ceiling collapses, sealing the route to the crevasse off completely, and leaving Stompy stuck in very small space, covered in dust but without even a scratch. Three sure knows his droning. Gem grins, and pats the brass spike poison vials on the belts crossing her chest. “Let’s go, we’re almost home,” says Eight. “We’ll be back for you, Stompy!” Three waves at the mech who flashes his front lights in response, “I promise!” “Entering standby mode.”