//------------------------------// // 36: Together, facing perfection itself. // Story: Halls of the Changeling King // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// ”Dearly beloved, we have gathered here to witness the union of-” ”Shut it, One!” I roll my eyes as Gem and Two snicker. So, as One so uselessly stated, we have all gathered in the council room, although for a completely different reason. Granite is about to fill in the final details of our mission before we head off to the depths to clear out the Twisted for good. “Good morning, everypony,” says the loremaster. Only he and Hard Reset are present for this, because everything said here is ‘classified’. I’m not sure about classified as what, but it sounds secret or something, “I’m told that Hard reset informed you about the most of the important stuff yesterday, and unfortunately we haven’t been able to figure out something miraculously helpful overnight, so this will be short. As you know, Twisted activities are threatening our mining, and it’s only a matter of time before they creep up either to us or the surface. We can’t allow that, and since you are supposedly immune to the infection now then you’re our only hope. We will provide you with everything you want.” “Two mares shaking their booties at us for moral support!” Ten shoots out. “Done!” answers Granite without a fraction of a second to think. “Fiiiine,” grumbles Ten, “No fun allowed...” “Look, this is about raw survival. I’m willing to part with anything,” Granite gives Ten an exhausted look, "I'm already having trouble explaining the sightings from our border guards, and keeping panic from spreading." “Alright, what do we need aside from the scanning equipment?” I return the conversation back on track, “Now that we’re ready for direct contact, I’m alright with using just my love blades. No offense to your technology, but those things are effective, and they don’t even drain so much love anymore.” “I advise against that, boss,” Five clears her throat, “In case the purge takes too long or we lose way too much energy for any other reason, you should pick a flamethrower like last time. The area of effect demolition, especially in enclosed spaces which might be filled with Twisted, could be invaluable.” Huh… “Well, I’m not going to argue with the changeling literally made for battle who also likes advanced weaponry.” “Nothing for me, thanks,” One sets her hoof on fire and douses it a moment later, “And you don’t want anything precision-based. That’s mostly just an inconvenience to those damn things. Grab explosives, fire, or acid, though we can make the latter ourselves.” “Liquor,” says Two, “Whatever your strongest liquor is. I’m not about to start learning to use military hardware in the hour or so we want to spend by equipping ourselves, but if you give me something that melts livers, I’ll make something that melts bedrock out of it.” Huuuuh… I completely forgot about that. “Can we take Stompy?” asks Three, “I talked to him yesterday and he wants to go out for a walk.” “Stompy is fully assembled and ready for action,” Hard Reset nods, “He’ll join us after the briefing. He said the electromagnetic field from the laboratory devices helps him recharge faster than rest. Besides, his Twisted locator is better than anything we’ve managed to copy, so he has to go in case our devices stop working or run out of power. We did what we could in such short time, but it’s untested.” “I’m taking the griffon sword,” Eight pats the Blade of the First Holy Whatever sheathed on her barrel, “Guns are nice… but it’s not my thing. Heh, even the sword is pushing it.” “Laser gatling, and a grenade launcher,” Five grins, “And pack some napalm charges this time. Explosions are great, but fire is the best way to deal with the remains of Twisted. We’ll need someone to carry spare ammo, though. Canisters for the boss, and fireworks for me.” “Can I get the foam thingy again?” Three looks hopeful, “It helped a lot.” “Nope,” I shake my head. Three gives me ‘the wibble’, but it doesn’t work this time because I’ve got something better, “You’re getting the BFG. You heard Hard Reset yesterday. They managed to make one shot for it, and you’re the only one who can use it.” “Stompy called you the ‘registered user’, whatever that means,” Hard Reset shrugs. “Yay!” Three claps his hooves. “But no firing it until I say so!” I give him a stern look. “Sure thing, boss!” he beams back at me, not bothered at all. “Anyone else?” I look around, and I’m greeted with general shaking of heads, “Seven?” “Spells, boss,” he shrugs, then thinks for a second, “You know what? I can carry few grenades for Five, why not? Worst case scenario, I throw those.” “Eleven?” I ask, and the tiny heads look up at me, “I’m not sure what you could carry, but… maybe you know something?” Eleven bares his hundreds of sharp teeth. Geez, it’s almost as bad as watching One smile. “Chomp. Chomp,” he says. He’s getting better at synchronizing the words, but it’s still unsettling. “I guess you’re right,” when no one else says anything, I continue, “Then all we need to sort out is who’s coming.” I get the ‘Really?’ stare from everyone. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. We’re going to need someone to communicate with dwarves and possibly the minotaurs,” I cross my forelegs on my chest. Six raises his hoof. “Look, I know I’m not useful in a fight, and I don’t know enough to fix any jammed or broken weapons on the fly, so I’ll stay. If anything goes… wrong, then everyone will need to know. Though I could carry Five’s spare ammo.” “Communication it is,” I decide. Six is right. If things go wrong, we might need help, or he could be the only one able to accurately describe what happened, “In case we fail, you’ll tell Granite, and then you’ll go to the surface, warn Steelback and ask him to secure you a route to Canterlot. Rulers of Equestria are there, and they will need to know.” “Yes, boss!” Six salutes. “I’m coming, obviously, and so is Eight,” One states simply, and Eight nods. “Someone has to point dummy here in the right direction,” Two pats uncharacteristically silent Cryo’s lower back, which is the only place she can reach. “Isn’t that right?” “I LIKE CAMPING!” “See? She wants to go too,” Two shrugs, “And since I’m quite the combo of infiltrator and a warrior, I think I should stretch both my mental and physical muscles.” “Are you okay, Two?” I lean down to her, running my hoof down her still scarred and dented chitin. “Oh, that? I’m keeping those marks as trophies, dad. In case I doubt myself again, I can always just look down and remember what I survived. And you know what? I’m keeping the name Living Armor at least around the dwarves… if you don’t mind.” “Of course I don’t… Living Armor. Eh, too long. How does Liv sound?” I smirk, “Can you ‘liv’ with that?” “Can you live with yourself after saying that?” Two- Living Armor rolls her eyes. “Dad jokes...” One shakes her head, “I’m afraid we might have to put the boss down soon. His mind is going.” I chuckle. “You know what, it will be easier if I just ask - is there anyone who has a reason not to go? Ten, Eleven?” “Me. Chomp. Spindlies,” Eleven shakes his heads. You. Spend. Too. Much. Time. With. Three. More. Like. Ten sighs. “No offense to Eight, boss, but right now I’m the one changeling with the most varied combat experience. Swords, spears, axes, magic, combat telekinesis, changeling transformations, you name it. I might not be able to mimic Eight’s physical attributes, but I went through paladin training. I know more standard spells than Seven, and I’ve fought enemies armed with things Eight can’t even imagine. I will, of course, obey your orders if you send me upstairs again, but it would be downright stupid to leave me out of this, and a waste of my hivemind knowledge.” I didn’t think about it like this, but he’s right. How is Eight taking the idea? She’s observing Ten with brows furrowed, but isn’t complaining or anything. I’m going to assume she doesn’t have any objections then. “That’s settled then,” I nod, “Everyone but Six is coming.” “That’s good,” Granite breathes out, “Because this is going to make the plan a little easier. I talked about it with Stompy a little last night, and he came up with a better plan based on his experience with Twisted. They supposedly usually group up and don’t move much, while small groups or individuals slowly drift away. It would be better to split up, find and take out the smaller groups around the main mass, and finally group up for the big battle. That way we can use the scanners we replicated effectively and not run around for days, possibly chasing stragglers away into more biomass to convert, which was the risk of our original round trip plan.” “I’m not too keen on splitting up, honestly,” I object, “That never works well.” “Not necessarily,” says Ten, “Even if we split up, I believe that won’t be an issue. I’ve gone through everyone’s memories about the big battle last time. Before the infection hit, you were doing fairly fine even against the main mass of enemies. Granted, the trick with the cliff helped tons, no pun intended, but as long as we put a melee fighter into each group, we should be able to deal with anything that’s not the Vigil or the brunt of the surviving Twisted. In fact, the only weapons we really need are for complete destruction of their biomass rather than a way to kill them.” “I agree with Ten,” Eight says, “Let’s kick some tentacled asses.” “If you think so, then the only question remaining is - who goes with whom?” “I’m going with Cryo,” says Two, “Otherwise she’ll wander off and get lost.” “CONNECTION TO THE SERVER RESET!” the old queen, I assume, agrees. Well, I hope more than assume, but Two doesn’t seem worried. “Ten, you go with them,” I nod to the paladin on probation. “Sure, but wouldn’t I be more useful with someone else? They already have enough raw power,” Ten tilts his head. “Yes, but I’m not sure about Cryo’s stability. I believe her intentions, though.” “WISHING WELL WILL NOT FAIL TINY RED BLOT!” Cryo pats Two’s head which leaves the infiltrator a little dazed. Damn, Living Armor’s head. I should get used to saying that. Oh screw it, she’s my Two. To the dwarves she can be whoever she wants. “Seven, Eleven, you’re coming with me,” I order. “Target practice, I like that,” Seven summons a green, burning skull which circles around him and disappears. “Walmart!” Eleven agrees apparently. Now I’m sure he’s spending too much time with Three. “I’ll have Stompy,” speaking of Three, the drone speaks up, “He knows how to deal with spindlies.” “Five, you’re going with them,” I order, “Considering Stompy’s not exactly sneaky approach, there’s a high chance that you’ll draw a lot of attention, possibly even the main horde. Your firepower will be useful.” “I’m taking Gem,” says Eight, “and I suggest One goes alone. I’ll need someone to destroy the biomass while I cleave through the bastards. One doesn’t have such problem, and making a group of all three of us is crazy overkill.” “I’d be flattered if I didn’t know you want to see me get eaten,” One boops the warrior. “Come now, I certainly don’t want that,” Eight playfully snaps her jaws at One’s hoof, “I would miss our banter way too much for that. Besides, that’s my job.” Loud thudding from outside announces Stompy’s arrival. “Anything else?” I raise an eyebrow, looking around, “Nothing? Then let’s go suit up. Bugs and bots, roll out!” *** With the flamethrower firmly affixed to my hoof, I let it flame at the corpse on the floor until it’s ash. Next to me, Seven is doing the same to a Twisted who suffered much worse fate than the clean cuts from my love blades, namely being ripped to shreds by Eleven. Our first encounter ended quickly, and while I was afraid I’d screw up like last time, it was completely different, and I think I know why. This time, the specter of death at single touch isn’t hovering above us, and as far as normal fighting goes, we’re all rather experienced at this point, even Eleven who had his fair share of combat only few hours after birth. Anyway, we’re done here, and there’s no reason to dawdle. As far as I know, we were the last one to find Twisted. The dwarven scanner is showing a single Twisted along our path, so we head off that way. ”We’ve got our first two. How are things on everyone’s end?” ”Seventeen!” reports One as she blasts a Twisted with her divine fire, evaporating half of its body in an instant, ”I mean eighteen. No sign of the Vigil.” ”Damn, how did you get so many of them this soon?” ”I said to myself - screw stealth. Why should I have to be the one running around and wasting energy? So I made some noise and they came for me. Anyway, two more are coming, and I haven’t run out of pew pews yet. Ta taaa!” Yeah, she’ll be fine. ”Eight?” I check the second group as I rush ahead to the source of signal the scanner is picking up. Oh great, she’s beating a screeching Twisted with another one while four more are impaled on the griffon greatsword stuck in the floor, alive and squirming. Behind her, rather bored and invisible Gem is downing a bottle of moonshine in order to make some internal acid. ”Busy! More are coming. How many did One get yet?” ”Why do you think she’s counting?” ”She’s ONE!” ”Fine, she said she got seventeen a moment ago...” I admit defeat. Will those two ever stop competing? ”BITCH!” she stops messing around, and crushes the skulls of both Twisted in her hooves while Gem rushes in to melt them, ”We have fifteen with these,” she breathes in, and bellows, “HEY, YOU GOOEY FUCKS, GET OVER HERE SO I DON’T HAVE TO CHASE YOU AROUND!” Several distant screeches answer her call, and Gem checks the scanner. ”Three more incoming,” she reports. ”Ugh, not enough!” Eight grabs her sword covered with remains of melted Twisted, ”Let’s move!” I leave the two alone. They seem alright. Oh great, three Twisted coming our way this time. Seven’s horn glows as I rush in to slice the nearest one. Eleven jumps under legs and tentacles to swarm the Twisted in the back, tiny mouths tearing flesh and crunching bones. Seven finishes his spell, which results in something green and horrible burying itself into the remaining Twisted’s chest, first sets it on fire, and then explodes. “Spiked burning cubes which explode,” Seven laughs to himself, “Top that, any wizard anywhere! Pfff, fire balls.” The fight is over quickly, but this time the result is not as good. I rush over to a wall against which one Eleven got smashed, the tiny smooshed body lying on the floor. I’m not about to ponder what happens if one Eleven gets badly hurt or dies, so I simply pour love into the changeling while the other ten gather around. Nothing. Alright. Time to visit Eleven’s mind. AAAAAAAAAAAH! HOW DO I PICK THE RIGHT BODY?! Oh… ohhhhhh... This feels weird. The correct Eleven twitches as I take over, and make the body heal itself. Two healthy Elevens hug me, and the recovering one joins in soon. “Happy.” he says. “You know, boss. Eleven still freaks me out, but I admit he is kinda adorable.” “Hive bonding later,” I pat the nearest head, “How’s the scanner?” Seven checks the screen. “Six coming our way,” he takes a deep breath, “Looks like they’re catching onto what’s going on.” I nod. That’s good in a way, like One said. ”Two, Ten? How are things?” The two are casually following Cryo through an empty tunnel. ”Hmm?” Two’s ear twitches, ”Nothing big. We killed some twenty or thirty who ambushed us in a cavern few minutes ago. They aren’t much of a threat to us. The scanner shows them running away, but it’s in the direction where Three reported the main mass, so I think they’re trying to regroup.” Nothing problematic on their side then. ”Three, Five?” ”Hi, boss!” ”Yes, boss?” They answer both at once. ”Any problems on your end?” ”Stompy dealt with few spindlies already. No problems at all. He’s awesome!” Three reports cheerfully. Five takes over. ”We’re about halfway through our route, and according to Stompy’s readings, the Twisted are trying to rejoin the main mass. For some reason, they are regrouping in the central park of the dark priest enclave. Stompy’s wide-range area scanner is losing signatures fast, so I think our groups are dealing with Twisted effectively. However, we have a problem the other groups likely didn’t pick up yet.” ”You always know how to cheer me up. What is it?” ”Stompy says that his scanner can’t see into a certain area of the mines. The scary part is that it’s the section where Twisted were sealed off in the first place, and...” ”Where you last saw the Vigil. Yeah, I get it,” I sigh. I don’t have time to ponder the grim prospect, because Twisted reach us, this time twice as many as before. *** ”The noose tightens,” One greets me when we group up at the entrance of the dark priest enclave. Almost everyone is already there, and I can hear Stompy’s, well, stomping from a tunnel behind us. As far as we know, we’re about to finish off a species. A horrifying thought, even though they’re technically evil. ”Woooo, let’s go finish off a species!” cheers One ”You don’t get a chance like that every day.” Nevermind. ”Do I get to use my best friends gun?” asks Three as Stompy takes his place in front of everyone. ”No,” I shake my head, ”Considering how well we’ve done until now, I think it might be a waste of ammo.” And if we meet the Vigil, I want something big in case everything else fails. ”Okay, deep breaths everyone. Let’s go!” Stompy moves ahead with us in tow, and I get a clear view of the central park. Twisted are everywhere - the ground, the walls, the high ceiling, all simply staring at us, fangs bared and tentacles swinging. As I quickly compare the horrifying view of the almost uninterrupted black mass with what my changelings saw when they went down here to get the poison, I realize with some satisfaction that we really did make a dent into their numbers during our thankfully-not-so-last stand. Hey, I can even see concrete through them... occasionally. However, it’s clear that there still were enough ‘unused’ dwarf corpses in the enclave to make use of and replenish their numbers. Stompy unloads a barrage of lasers without waiting, making Twisted drop from the ceiling like a black, burning rain. “Hey, what are you doing, Stompy?!” Three hisses, “They were just looking.” “Preemptive friendship strike,” drones the robot. “You’re making fun of me!” “Look, they are falling head over hooves for you already.” And that’s the last thing I hear before all hole breaks loose. Well, and hissing… a lot of hissing. One immediately takes off, shooting those Twisted trying to surprise us by jumping down from the wall directly above the entrance. All we can do is connect to her mind and avoid the charred remains falling on us without even looking. For once, I let Eight’s and my mind meld into one just like in the old days, sharing combat skills and instructions. Back to back, griffon sword, chitinous spikes, and love blades, we let the enemies make the mistake of swarming around us. To my surprise, Seven joins One in the air, his wings buzzing as he hurls explosive dodecahedrons and even worse geometric shapes of variable destructive properties according to One’s instructions. “Get that one! And that one! That one’s trying to sneak up on the boss!” Three, on Stompy’s back and covered with an energy shield, keeps pointing out targets. I don’t have the heart to tell him that him just looking around from a high viewpoint is more helpful than anything, because we’re all using information from his eyes to make our own idea about how the battle is going. “CRYO SMAAAAAASH!” the ancient queen charges through the swarm, the impact of the huge changeling scattering Twisted away along the path. A smaller, red-headed dot of Two behind her is jumping around and punching away with not even a hundredth of Cryo’s or our destructive effect, but I can both hear her mad laughter and feel the pure joy of movement from her link. Just like her mother covering my own back, “FOR THE REBELS! FOR THE RESISTANCE! SCREW YOU, SHADOWSTEP! SCREW YOU, CHRYSALIS! HEY, THAT GUY EXPLODED!” My surprise mirrors Cryo’s, because what she’s talking about is Ten, slowly walking around the battlefield, incinerating enemies with blasts of magic while his sword flies around him at lightning speed, deflecting blows and parrying tentacles. Occasionally, he dodges out of the way or kicks a close target, but in contrast to everyone else, his style of combat is almost... peaceful. ”Boss, I fought in two army battles. This is nothing new to me, and this time I’ve got the information coming from other changelings, so I don’t have to watch my own back. I told you, while I might not be as powerful as many of you, I’ve got experience, ” Ten catches my surprise, and answers as if he was on a beach, relaxing and sipping a drink. Few Twisted slip into the entrance tunnel where Gem is hiding, and immediately get chomped by Eleven guarding her. The two, well, the twelve aren’t joining the fight directly, but Gem is busy spitting at Twisted bodies which don’t look completely dead, melting or burning the biomass. I don’t know how long it’s been, but eventually the tide of enemies thins down to a trickle, and then… ...nothing but stench of burning and melting flesh. ”Huh, whuh?” I blink when I finally realize there’s nothing to slash at anymore. Is it really? I punch the air few times before Eight stops me. ”We’re done,” I feel her voice in my head as well as her hoof running through my mane. Judging from the hive links, I’m not the only frazzled one. ”D- Done?” I blink. ”Yeah. One and Seven are hunting down the few who fled. We’re done. That’s all she wrote.” Connecting to One reveals her just being teleported by Seven into a corridor behind a fleeing Twisted who gets blasted instantly. Four more transportations later, even she reports: ”Maid One’s done with the cleaning. Damn, I’m a succubus now, I could use a name. Ehhh… maybe later.” ”We’re not done yet,” I say, feeling surprise from everyone but Five and Three who know what the problem is, ”There’s one place which Stompy can’t scan. The place where Twisted were originally sealed off.” *** We creep through the dark tunnels of the istrium mine, but so far we haven’t encountered any resistance. “What makes this place so special that you can’t scan it?” I whisper to Stompy. The robot, to my surprise, answers in a very quiet voice. “Istrium is a very strange substance,” explains Stompy, “We have no idea how it forms, nor has it any set surrounding geological features to help find it. What I know is that it causes uneasiness and sometimes downright fear in biological beings, so we used automated harvesters. The working theory regarding the quantum state of the crystals is that it is formed from remains of a dimensional overlap. Which remains from which dimension is unknown to me. It possesses very minor ability to disperse magic, and can be processed into extremely durable metal which absorbs and holds energy better than any other known mineral. My scanners work by transmitting certain signals through the area, and those get absorbed by leftover dust from previous mining of the crystals.” Quantum… dim-what? “Is it possible that the Vigil could be interested in this mineral?” I ask instead. “According to my information, this mining site has been depleted a long time ago. My best guess is that whoever this Vigil you’re talking about is was only interested in releasing the sealed Twisted,” replies Stompy who would obviously shrug if he could. Thankfully, while Stompy can’t scan anything from the rough mine shaft, we have good eyes and ears, and according to the area plans he’s transmitting into the air like a glowing blue window, this place is fairly small. Come to think of it, either Twisted multiplied immensely immediately after being released, or they’re rather easy to store in limited space. Heh, pocket Twisted. Several more minutes of increasingly casual walking later, we enter what has to be the central hub of the mine, at least according to the map Stompy is projecting ahead, which is the first time we finally hear something other than our own muffled hoofsteps or the heavy echoes of Stompy’s walking. Stompy’s headlights reveal a solitary figure sitting on the ground, watching us. As I expected, it’s the Vigil cultist. I immediately check everyone’s love levels on reflex, and let out a sigh of relief that despite the big battle we’re is a decent shape. Just in case, though, I transfer some more to Eight and Cryo, who looks around, slightly confused. “So you’re the ones who have been cleaning the place out,” he says calmly, taking the hood of his dirty, grey robe off, and standing up. He’s not as tall as Eight or Cryo, but his mere presence makes me take a step back. Come to think about it, I haven’t had a chance to take a good look at him yet. Eight got smashed so fast she barely realized it, and Three’s as well as Six’s memories are blurry and frazzled due to sheer panic. So, here goes - he’s big, he has short, mossy green mane fading to grey, and a very similar scheme for his coat, at least for the part of the neck I can see under the robe. Simply put, he’s kinda dim. “W-Why did you release the Twisted?” I take a short step forward, and fail my willpower check for not stuttering, “Why did you nearly kill Eight?” I hesitate, “And… don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but why didn’t you do the same to Six and Three?” To my surprise, the Vigil just tilts his head, mild amusement on his lips. “Does it matter? I mean, really matter?” he says in a slow, tired voice, “You are all irrelevant. I am irrelevant in the long run. Whatever happens here is irrelevant, truth be told. The Eternal Watcher will enter this world, sooner or later. The creatures you call Twisted were his previous experiment at reaching his goal, which unfortunately failed.” “And what does this watcher want?” I ask. This makes no sense. “Perfection. Unity. No more pain. No more suffering. Ascension for all of us. No wars, no violence, no struggle, only peace.” I find that hard to believe. “I don’t believe you. Not after what you did, and the pain you caused,” no, seriously, what am I supposed to say? Let’s do this and ascend or whatever? ”Hole, the creatures you released massacred several hundred dwarves.” He shrugs. “The Watcher’s victory is inevitable, and will happen far from here. Resist if you want. You will only cause pain for yourself. I’m more than fine waiting here until our time comes.” “Fuck. That.” Fire runs through Eight’s chitin, reinforcing her armor to its maximum. The sight which by all means should strike fear to any living creature leaves the Vigil obviously unimpressed. “Alright,” he shrugs again, as if he wasn’t facing a usually horrifying force of changelings which wiped an army of Twisted not too long ago, but was picking between two mediocre kinds of salad, “I suppose I can kill time somehow.” Eight is on him instantly, slashing with the griffon sword which is harmlessly blocked by the Vigil’s foreleg, the impact sending sparks everywhere. ”Cryo, break a leg,” says Two, ”But be carefu-” “BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGHHHH!” the screaming queen charges at the Vigil, punting him like a hoof ball. The small comet hits the ceiling, then the far wall, and then lands on all fours, apparently unharmed. ”Good to know that power isn’t the same as mass,” I comment, ”Now we need to figure out how to actually hurt him.” One flies up, her horn glowing. In the next instant, she shoots a blast of energy which impacts the Vigil, momentarily turning the area around him into a ball of fire. One and Cryo back off a little to avoid getting burned as well. However, when the glow clears, what remains is a smoldering Vigil, his seared off flesh quickly regenerating in front of our eyes. Two doesn’t wait, though, and spits out the horrible mixture of dwarven liquor and changeling goo with deadly accuracy. The Vigil is silent, his neck melting and rib cage revealed. Ten jumps in to take the chance to lop the Vigil’s head off… ...but his flying sword is grabbed in the air by the Vigil’s growing tail whip, and without any wind-up, he punches Ten in the chestplate. The paladin flies past, his impact against the wall on the other side scattering rocks around. ”Ten?!” ”Ughhh… did anyone… get the number… of that cart…?” he tries to get up, but starts throwing up blood. ”Gem, help him!” I order, summon the fire of love, ugh, around my forelegs, and enter the fray around the Vigil. A barrage of explosions caused by Seven’s spells hits the Vigil who doesn’t even flinch when he sends the giant that is Cryo flying few pony lengths away with a slap of the back of his hoof. ”Fiiine, shielding it is AGAIN...” curses annoyed Seven, his horn flashing as he summons a shimmering, green barrier tightly surrounding Eight who barely dodges the Vigil’s punch. It nicks her, however, which makes her spiral in the air. The Vigil cocks his hoof back to punch technically incapacitated Eight, I’m there, and with my love and fear for Eight’s life burning equally in the form of a thin edge coming from my hoof, I cut his foreleg off. I don’t get even a second to back off, though, as the Vigil immediately rears on his hind legs, and uppercuts me with his remaining foreleg. The world blurs, and I can barely even register the agony of my chest caving in before I an impact shakes my whole body from the back. Did I just bounce off from the ceiling? An attempt to cushion my fall by using wings makes things only worse. Before I hit the ground again, I’m swept by a changeling-sized blob and gently lowered down. When my vision stops swimming, I notice it’s One. ”...thanks...” ”Yeeeeeah you’d better start thinking about a plan B, because this isn’t working,” she just says, shooting more energy from her horn. As my regeneration kicks in, quickly burning through my love, I get back up only to see the Vigil punch Cryo so hard that even her thick chitin shatters, the shrapnels burying themselves into the ground. ”Me time?” asks Three. ”Eh, brute force doesn’t seem to be working. I knew this would be useful,” Five has finally managed to set up her gatling, and the red lines of lasers blast the Vigil, immediately searing off his flesh. ”No, Stompy time,” I say. “Stompy, let’s show this guy the power of friendship!” orders Three, and Eight quickly jumps aside when the mech’s dual flamethrowers start toasting and roasting. That lasts for some five seconds before Five’s lasers suddenly end up hitting the walls. Not the back wall, such as in case of finally drilling through the obstacle they were aimed at, but at side walls, as if- The Vigil walks out of the fire, unharmed. -as if they were being deflected by the Vigil’s now slightly shinier coat. “Weapon systems ineffective,” reports Stompy. “Now can you see?” he asks, “This is what my master brings - perfection, adaptation, eternity. I wanted to show you because, as I said, this is just a way to pass time for me-” his monologue is interrupted by Eight’s blindingly fast lunge which the Vigil avoids even faster, before her punch impacts, she’s next to her, his hoof transforming into a set of claws, and with a single punch he rams it through Eight. Then, with a flick of said foreleg, he casually tosses impaled Eight to us, “It’s not as if you could hit me if I wanted-” A continuous beam of divine fire impacts the Vigil’s raised foreleg. “Oh dear,” he continues, “Mundane weapons, magic, and even minor divinity?” laughing, he lowers his foreleg and lets One’s attack which is charring the ground around the Vigil simply hit him without any effect, “The Watcher is divinity itself, changelings. We are unstoppable.” One lands next to me, gasping for breath. ”I guess… I guess it’s time… for Three’s... big show... and then we… get the hole out… if it doesn’t work?” she asks, swaying unsteadily. ”Not yet,” I frown, ”And even if we run, he’s shown to be faster. Someone would have to stay here to slow him down, and after the show with Eight, it would be only few seconds.” ”I volunteer!” says Five immediately. ”Oh shut up, I’m fine...” Eight, having regenerated a hole in her body, is getting back on all fours already, ”But that fucker is far stronger and faster than he was last time. If you’ve got a plan B, throw it out and go straight to plan Z. We might not get another chance, depending on when he gets bored of toying with us.” ”Scream once mentioned that whatever makes these guys so strong doesn’t make them the smartest, and we’re changelings. Our strength isn’t, well, strength, Our coordination is, and our-” ”We get it, so stop having a big final monologue moment, and let’s mind blast the bastard!” One grins, ”Whoever kills him inside his head first gets Three transformed into a puppy!” ”What’s a pupp-” Five opens her mouth. ”A baby fire spider!” One realizes instantly that Five’s never left the underground. Our minds connect, and I lead them into a small hole I can feel in the Vigil. One might have thought about some sort of hypnosis or control, but inside his mind, there’s a slot for something similar to a hive link the Vigil clearly cannot consciously control. However, as the world goes black, I hear: ”YOU HAVE NO UNDERSTANDING WHAT YOU ARE DEALING WITH, BUGS!” *** Dusty Satchel, a grey earthpony stallion with a green mane and a rather common cutie mark of a tied cloth bag, closes the door of his apartment. It’s one of the cheapest variety in Manehattan - a simple room with one door leading to the bathroom, one to a small closet, and one leading outside where he is now. With a tired sigh, he starts heading down through the apartment building. Another morning, time to go to work, a routine he’s grown used to over the years. Unfortunately, with the recent influx of griffons and zebras, unskilled labor has been a rather unsteady position, especially for someone in their fifties like him. Of course, said influx of creatures trying to live in the city brought an increase of rent all over the place, but especially in the previously cheap locations. “Hey, rent’s due today!” yells the landlord, a fat unicorn living on the bottom floor and apparently spending most of his time in a booth by the entrance. “Yeah yeah,” grumbles Dusty. “I’m serious, you’ve been late every month for the past year, and-” “I said I’d pay it, you fatass!” Dusty can’t hold back. This lazy swine who hasn’t worked a day in his life is lecturing him about something. The landlord narrows his eyes. “By six o’clock,” he growls. “But I’m working double shift today to pay for the dumb rent increase you announced late!” Dusty slams his hooves against the reinforced glass of the booth. “Well then maybe you should have thought about that before running your mouth,” the unicorn smirks, making Dusty grit his teeth, “...mudpony.” “You-” “Ahem!” a calm, female voice interrupts Dusty before he digs himself deeper by doing something to the landlord. There’s a tall, pink, pegasus mare with short, blond mane wearing white yoga pants coming down the stairs, “Mind if I butt in for a second?” Dusty stays silent, having never seen this mare in the building before. Granted, she looks a little above thirty, and is absolutely gorgeous, so he might have just missed her on the grounds of being out of his league completely. The landlord straightens up in his chair and smoothens his mane. “Uhh, well, umm, miss Comfort, was it?” he practically drools over her, much to Dusty’s disgust at the old pervert. “Mind if I ask where the Solar Fitness Studio is?” Comfort asks, “I’m starting to work there as a personal trainer today, and I thought I’d have time to walk through this part of the city yesterday, but things didn’t go as planned, so I’m… kinda lost,” she scratches her head. “Well, I’m not sure… but I can show you around and I know where we could ask-” the unicorn who clearly hasn’t seen fitness anything even in a documentary gets interrupted by Dusty who can’t resist one-upping the annoying asshole. “It’s on my way to work,” he says, “I can show you.” “I wouldn’t trust this hobo, miss. Do you know he barely pays rent?” the landlord give it one final shot which fails completely. “That would be lovely,” says Comfort, “I’ll take all the help I can get.” “Just be careful not to go with him into a blind alley. You know what they say about mudpon-” “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN STARING AT HER ASS SINCE SHE ARRIVED!” Dusty kicks the booth. “Well, ehm,” Comfort doesn’t seem turned off, much more amused, actually, “I believe I can defend myself from anything but being late for my first day at work. Shall we?” she tilts her head while giving Dusty a curious look. “Yeah, let’s go,” Dust leads the way, walking a little faster than he would otherwise. “Bad morning?” asks Comfort, following without any trouble. Dusty sighs. “Bad everything recently. I don’t want to bother you with my problems.” “Could help us pass time,” Comfort shrugs. “There really isn’t much to say,” says Dusty. It’s easier to talk about things when they won’t matter tomorrow… hopefully. If that weird ‘secret society’ is to be trusted, that is. However, the demonstration they showed… earthponies using magic, a pegasus stronger than any earthpony. And supposedly the higher ranked members don’t need to eat or be afraid of cold. Now THAT would help his rent situation. And if they just try to lure money out of him in the end, although the guy who invited him said they wouldn’t, he wouldn’t have any anyway, “I’m old, so I can’t really ask for a raise in this economy, and it’s getting harder to pay rent even in this place. My filly had her thirteenth birthday this month, and she got her cutie mark. It’s a chemistry thing, so I bought her a basic chemistry set… which put me in the red and… well, you heard the landlord.” “Does your filly live with you?” Comfort raises an eyebrow, “If your apartment is similar to mine, there’s like no place there.” “No no no,” Dusty waves his foreleg, “I’m divorced. She lives with her mother and the new assh- stallion she’s found. Court decided that I’m not able to take care of my girl, but I’m still good enough to pay alimony. Not that I mind that part, if it helps my girl.” “Awww...” Comfort looked at the sidewalk. “Ah. don’t worry about it. That’s my life, and you have yours. Besides, this is where we split,” he stops and points left across the street, “I work in a warehouse, and I’ve got to get a proper breakfast. Nothing for a slender pony like you. But the fitness studio you were looking for is one block that way. You can’t miss it, there’s a big sun with a mare bent backwards over it above the door.” “Thanks!” Comfort smiles at Dusty, “And if you need some help cooking or a quick massage, don’t hesitate to ask.” “Heh heh, sure,” Dusty only partially fakes a smile, and leaves. It has been a while since he’s met someone genuinely polite in this city, especially a mare. One street away, Comfort clutches her head, previously blocked memories pouring into her. “Wait, I was supposed to kill him!” she curses, turns around, and bolts back, but reality starts breaking around her, leaving only blackness surrounding her. ”YOU FAILED, CHANGELING!!” Not too far ‘away’, Dusty has entered his usual morning haunt - a shabby ‘Lord of the Donuts’ diner. A shop offering that sort of cheap, simple, yet filling meal for those ponies who don’t have the luxury of cooking at home or can’t afford anything else. Granted, most of the time, Dusty could afford to have a more complex breakfast elsewhere, but as stated previously, this month has been tight. “Hey, Dusty! The usual?” the old pegasus behind the counter greets his daily customer of many years, and when Dusty nods, he yells the order into the kitchen door behind himself, “How’s it going?” “Lousy,” he admits, “A bit late with rent and everything, and my landlord is an ass.” “That bad, eh? By the way, ten bits.” Dusty rummages through his saddlebag, and freezes. “Damn it!” he looks nervously up at the diner owner, “Can I switch my order to something a bit cheaper? I’ve got only five.” “No can do, bud. Sunny’s already making it, but you know you can always work it off.” Asshole. A pony would think that friends… well, long-time acquaintances could do something for each other in a pinch. Ungrateful bastard. It’s not as if Dusty didn’t help him clean the tables after late dinner more than once. “I can’t!” Dusty pleads, “Not today. I need to get to the warehouse early, I’m working double shift to pay rent. Come on, can you open me a tab until tomorrow?” “Look, Dusty. If you give me two hours of your time, Sunny can go home two hours earlier, and we’re all good. If you can’t, then it’s no breakfast AND you’ll still owe me for the-” A smaller hoof slams a small amount of coins on the counter. “Can we move this along, I’m fucking starving here! If it makes you move your ass faster, I’m paying for this dude too. A stack of flapjacks, syrup and custard. Get MOVING!” Dusty wants to object, and the owner opens his mouth too, immediately closing it when faced with obviously livid earthpony mare in her teens sporting a shiny black mane cut into… what do foals these days call it, emo cut or something? The heavy, black eyeliner isn’t helping, and neither is her black jacket, black, heavy boots, and black, blacker blackness. And piercings, a lot of piercings. Black ones. “Listen, young lady-” the pegasus gives resistance one more shot under the mare’s unwavering glare. “Get money, give food. Open mouth again, no money from two customers, capiche?” she raises an eyebrow. The pegasus rushes off into the kitchen, and returns quickly with a stack of pancakes as well as Dusty’s eggs, bread, and heavy dose of salad. Still pouting, he gives the food to the cheeky mare first, then to rather confused Dusty who takes his plate. “I can pay you back tomorrow, miss-” “Sit. Eat,” she nods to the closest table, and still stunned Dusty follows her. As they get seated, she digs into her breakfast, setting a rather record pace, “Now you can yap all you want,” she says in between bites, “And I don’t really care about your money, I’ve got places to be, and I can’t afford this sh- this delay.” “Thank you anyway,” Dusty chomps a leaf of lettuce, “I doubt there are more than a single-digit amount of ponies in this city who would do that for a pony they don’t know.” “Screw them,” says the mare without any apparent rancor other than her now normal level of venom in her voice, “It’s a dog eat dog world, but packs hunt better. Anyway,” she looks at her pancake, “this tastes like shit.” Dusty shrugs, growing to like the foul-mouthed young mare, and can’t help cracking a smile. “Sunny and Windstorm do what they can with what they can afford. This place IS the cheapest around. It’s for dock workers, warehouse staff like me, or anyone else who works too hard for too little money. A lot of strong, rough ponies around most of the time. Aren’t you scared here, a little girl-” The stare she gives him could melt through any steel vault door and the whole security team guarding it. “-young miss,” Dusty corrects himself. She looks around. “Mostly stallions all around, and there are Royal Guards on the corner,” she points out of the diner window, “If I as much as raise my voice and tear my clothes, you’re all going to the slammer for attempted rape. Plus, I can still kick anyone in the balls and shut them off like a lamp.” Dusty chuckles. “I’m starting to like you.” She measures him silently for few seconds. “The earthpony part is neat, but too old for my liking,” she shakes her head, “I want someone with proper stamina. You like fillies, perv?” “No- I- I- I didn’t mean-” Dusty blushes. “Obviously,” she rolls her eyes, “Otherwise I’d be calling for the guards already,” with her breakfast already done, she stands up, and nods at Dusty, “See ya, perv!” And she’s gone, just like that, leaving Dusty with a carrot hanging out of his mouth. Outside, she turns around. “Damn it! What was I doing…? Oh hole no!” she reaches for the diner door which fades into nonexistence, and the world disappears. ”YOU WANT TO KILL MY DISCIPLE INSIDE HIS MIND? FOOLISH BUG. YOU’VE ENTERED MY DOMAIN, AND YOUR MINDS ARE MY PLAYTHINGS NOW.” With breakfast behind him, Dusty goes about his day. Warehouse work is never boring, although one needs to develop the ability to shut the brain off in order to survive the long hours. Thankfully, there’s lunch at work. Granted, since Dusty is doing a double shift, he’ll need dinner he doesn’t have, but it’s just a single day. That, unfortunately, bites him in the plot. As he’s carrying a crate double his size carefully balanced on his back, his stomach grumbles, and he stumbles. The heavy, wooden crate breaks his balance, and hits the floor with a heavy thud, the straps holding it on Dusty’s back suddenly crushing him against it. A security guard unicorn rushes towards him, immediately cutting the harness and freeing the choking earthpony who rubs his chest and groans in pain. “Ribs?” the guard asks. “Just… hurts… I don’t think… I broke anything...” Dusty wheezes. “Good. I’ve got some compression bandages in my bag in the security booth, sit still. I’ll be right back,” the guard runs off. As he levitates his bag up, he and the booth disappear instantly. ”OH LOOK, ANOTHER BUG FAILS HIS ASSASSINATION. AND THIS ONE WAS ACTUALLY EASY! YOU JUST HAD TO WAIT AND DO NOTHING. TSK TSK. IS THERE NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU ABLE TO KILL HIM?” “Oh great, grandpa broke some equipment,” says a new voice belonging to a different unicorn tapping against a ‘This side up’ writing on the big crate, “Oooh, and this shipment isn’t cheap.” Another damn unicorn. Those bastards don’t know anything about a good day’s work. “Look… I just need a little break… and everything here… is insured...” Dusty winces as he speaks. Maybe he did hurt himself a little more than he thought. “True, true,” the unicorn is in his late twenties, an already a manager, or at least something certainly higher than Dusty, “But you’re going into my report. You and Booksmart. Seriously, you should both be in retirement already, sucking dust in Appleloosa. Young ponies need these jobs too, and they have potential.” As much as Dusty would like to answer with a little bit of the old earthpony fuck you and punch in the face, he knows that he can live with the unicorns sneering, but not without money. Wisdom which comes with age, that is. “Well, I’m still working here, and I’ve been sitting around here for long enough,” Dusty stands up with a hiss, and opts for loading a smaller crate while a different earthpony takes care about the dropped one. The rest of the double shift is uneventful, until the unicorn comes back near midnight with a pair of satchels and envelopes. “Booksmart, Dusty Satchel!” he calls out, and the requested elderly pair of a unicorn and earthpony approach. “So, guys, it’s been an honor working with you,” he smirks, “And it’ll be even more tomorrow when you’re NOT around. Here are your paychecks for this week, with an end-of-service bonus for Booksmart, and without one for Dusty, because of the stuff you broke today. As it turns out, it WASN’T properly insured.” He’s doing it on purpose, don’t punch him. Take the money, pay the rent, and think about what to do tomorrow. Dusty breathes out, and takes the envelope as well as the bag of bits without a word. It’s been a long and grueling day. Screw life, seriously... Booksmart’s foreleg lands around his neck. “How about we celebrate finally leaving this ass job?” the unicorn levitates the significantly thicker envelope in front of Dusty. “I kinda need this ass job to keep eating and breathing, Books,” Dusty sighs, “How are you not bothered by this? We’re roughly the same age, and we’ve been dealing with the same ‘you are too old’ shit for years.” “Life is life,” Booksmart shrugs, “I’m moving to Griffonstone next month. Trust me when I say that Equestrian retirement money goes a looong way there. That monthly nothing I’ll spend here in Manehattan to breathe can make me live like a king there. Plus, you know, lion booty. I’ll just have to get used to them eating meat, but hey, some ponies do it here too on occasion, so it can’t be that bad.” “What about Hookshot?” Dusty has known Booksmart long enough to have met his rather adventurous pegasus wife. “Ol’ Hooker?” Books laughs, “She’s the one who came up with the idea. The area north of Griffonstone is desolate land, and she thinks she’ll be digging up old artefacts on daily basis. On my end, I won’t get lonely when she’s away on digs and adventures, because I’ve got the bits. I can pay two dancer chicks to follow me at every hoofstep, and still be okay.” “I’d join you in a heartbeat,” Dusty laughs as the two leave the warehouse, “But I still want to stay on the same continent as Blinky, even though her mother disagrees.” Booksmart pats Dusty’s back. “Screw that old bat. Your daughter loves you despite how little time you’re allowed to have with her, and that’s all that matters. Come on, let’s pretend we’re young, and go out drinking tonight. To celebrate freeing ourselves from the shackles of menial labor.” He can afford a late dinner now, and since he’s lost his job, it might be actually better to stay in a motel for a while instead of his own apartment anyway. “I’m paying!” Books waves his envelope again. Fiiine, he needs to kill time before the meeting with the secret society weirdos anyway. “Alright, but only because it’s you,” Dusty grins. After two hours in a nightclub on the other side of Manehattan where Dusty has never been before, rather blurry Booksmart wobbles away, leaving the earthpony alone. It doesn’t take long before the unicorn’s world fades to black, and he facehoofs, memories trickling back to him. “I screwed up, didn’t I?” asks Seven. ”OH YOU SOFTIES. PROPER CHANGELINGS WOULDN’T BLINK BEFORE TURNING THEIR ENEMY INTO A VEGETABLE, BUT YOU GOODY TWO HORSESHOES CAN’T. DON’T WORRY, YOU WILL REMEMBER YOUR ‘KIND’ HEARTS AS HE RIPS THEM OUT OF YOU!” “Is this seat taken?” asks a dark yellow, earthpony mare with brown, short, and spiky mane wearing a skirt. Dusty, rather taken aback, simply nods. She looks in her late twenties, and if she isn’t a fitness model or something along those lines, he needs his eyes checked. “I mean no!” he realizes his mistake when she turns around. She gives him a confused look, “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something else. No one else is at this table, just good old me.” He expected her to simply keep walking away or sit across the round table from him, but she takes a chair next to him, and pushes it closer. “You here often?” she asks. “First time, actually. I came here with a friend, but he’s a unicorn. They can’t handle their liquor,” he chuckles, “We both just got fired, so we wanted to celebrate freedom, or drown our sorrows… either works. This place is for young ponies,” he looks around. The clientele certainly is mostly young, but he can see the occasional forty-something stallion or mare trying to catch a bunny or a loli or whatever it’s called these days. “Not really,” the mare leans towards him, and puts a hoof on his broad chest. Despite his age and weariness, Dusty’s life of hard work and the whole earthpony shtick certainly left him in a good shape, “I, myself, prefer the touch of a stallion rather than an overgrown colt,” she leans even closer, rubbing her nose against his, “Name’s Flower Pot, what’s yours, big guy?” “D-Dusty Satchel,” he replies, stunned. “Been a while since your last date, was it?” she chuckles, returning to her chair, “Nervous much?” Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t seem turned off by his hesitation. “Well, I might be taken, right?” Dusty tries to play it cool. “In here?” Flower Pot looks at the distant stage with oiled mares spinning around poles, “I doubt that. So how about we bond over a drink, and see where it goes?” Two glasses of something that melts both brain cells and stomach lining later, very flattered Dusty is just drunk enough to believe the mare might actually have an interest in him. She leans in, and kisses him. He’s hesitant at first, but soon he feels her hooves running all over his barrel, and she pushes herself onto him. Everything seems perfect for just a moment. Until he hears a scornful: “Now that’s a pathetic attempt to recapture your youth and virility long gone, Dusty. Some rave whorse, really?” Of all the nightclubs in this city, she had to walk into mine. “Hey!” Flower Pot stands up from the suddenly frozen target of her affection, “Who the hole are you?” “Bean Wisp?” Dusty’s eyes go wide, “What are you doing here?” The forty-six years old earthpony mare, and, the significantly worse part, Dusty’s ex-wife, sneers at him. In Dusty’s defense, ten-year age difference wasn’t that big a deal when he was thirty. Of course she would dump him when he turned fifty. “NOT drooling over the first cheap skank willing to give me any,” Bean Wisp is obviously trying to make Flower Pot mad. To her credit, the young mare is taking it in stride. A shadow even bigger than Dusty slaps Bean Wisp’s bottom, and walks side by side with her. “Who’s this old bozo?” asks a towering zebra stallion with a short mohawk and the musculature of a professional hoofball player. “My ex trying to recapture his youth,” laughs Bean, “Let’s go have some real fun. I doubt he can still get it up anymore anyway. I’m sure you won’t have that problem.” “With you, babe?” he bites the nape of her neck, making her moan, “I’m hardly holding back as it is.” With laughter, they leave Dusty and Flower Pot alone. The earthpony, though, only sits there, staring at the empty glass on the table. “Dusty?” asks Flower Pot, “Was that really your ex-marefriend?” “Ex-wife, actually. We got divorced just as… just as our daughter was born,” Dusty sighs, his voice trailing off into nothing, “Look, I can’t. I should go, this isn’t my life. You’re a nice girl, incredibly hot girl but… compared to me… a girl. I feel as if I should take you home to your parents, not have sex with you. I’m sorry.” To his surprise, she puts a hoof on his muzzle and looks him in the eyes. “That’s so sweet,” she gives him a quick peck on the lips, “Look, I don’t understand how you feel, I can’t really, but I know when to stop pushing. Good night,” she turns away, but looks back with a smirk a moment later, “If it helps, Zigs has shriveled balls and everything from all the roids he does. I’d take an earthpony like you instead of him any day. Your ex is in for quite a disappointing surprise when she gets home. She’s hot, though, I mean for her age.” “You were this close to making me feel better,” Dusty puts his forelegs together, making Flower Pot laugh before walking off and disappearing in the crowd. And, like with any other failed changeling, her reality shatters, and Five remembers what her goals was. She hangs her head low, and curses. ”YOU ARE SENT ON A MISSION TO KILL, BUT WHEN I TAKE AWAY THE MOTIVATION, YOU DO WHAT YOUR NATURE TELLS YOU, AND YOU ARE WEAK! YOU HELPED HIM, COMFORTED HIM, WERE NICE TO HIM INSTEAD OF KILLING HIM. YOU ARE HILARIOUS!” Smiling, Dusty ponders whether he should go home, but while he has no desire to bring any of the willing mares home after splitting up with Flower Pot, he has relaxed enough to have a closer look at the mares on the stage. Luckily, the bar counter and high stools are close enough. The barmaid is a zebra mare wearing a tuxedo jacket which only accentuates her hips swaying with every step. This, of course, draws the eyes of everyone by the counter whenever she turns around to select the right bottles for any ordered drink. “Do I have something on my face?” she notices Dusty staring. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect a zebra here. I mean, working here. You’re pretty enough to be a guest here, not spend time behind a counter.” “Hey, if it comes to potions, you can’t beat a zebra,” says the mare, “What’ll it be? And no, you can’t order me.” “You hear that often, don’t you? Long Island, please,” Dusty hops on the nearest stool. “Yep, even here in Manehattan. Though at this point I take it as a compliment,” her hooves blur as she expertly pours layer upon layer of liquor into a tall glass, “So, what ale’s you?” “That was a horrible bartender joke, isn’t it?” “Good ears, even over all this club noise,” chuckles the barmaid, “Though it’s getting calmer and more boring at this time of night. Everyone’s at that sleep drunk stage. You’re one of the few not trying to land a one night stand.” “A young lady here helped me realize that I’m too old for this, so the plan is to drown my sorrows now.” “Those buggers are good swimmers usually, maybe an open ear will help more, and be easier on the liver. But keep on ordering something, or I’m out of my job.” “Speaking of out of job,” Dusty snickers, “That’s one of the reasons I’m here.” “Sorry to hear that.” “It’s a long string of misery, really, ever since my divorce. My wife got everything I had. Screw the apartment, small cottage in the country, or everything else, but the court gave her Blinky.” “Your daughter, I assume? Or pet? Sorry, I’m not good with pony names.” Dusty’s eye twitches, but when he sees genuine concern in the zebra’s face, he calms down. “My daughter. I named her that when I first saw her. She blinked at me, and… it does sound silly now that I say it, but… she was everything at that moment,” he wipes his eyes, “But I knew it was right. She likes chemistry.” “Neat, if you’re not careful, she’ll become a sexy barmaid listening to sad stories every night. Speaking of which, be careful with that drink. It tastes somewhat like soda, but it hits like a truck.” “Y-Yeah,” Dusty has managed to draw a vaguely pony face from the spilled drink, which the barmaid correctly translates as the sad story not being over yet, “One more, and then I’ll be off. By the way, do you know any cheap motels around? I think I might have been kicked out of my apartment today.” “I’m not one to point out flaws, but that sounds like bad time management.” Dusty waves his hoof. “My life has been steadily breaking apart since the divorce. I live only for the two days every few weeks when I can visit Blinky and take her somewhere. Last time, I took her all the way to Canterlot to see the new princess. And for her birthday, I bought her a chemistry set while her mother was plowing zebras every evening. I don’t know, I just can’t find meaning in anything other than her.” “How did she ever get custody of her?” “She was ten years younger than me, so she got a decent job after her part of the maternal leave, and while I was a year at home with Blinky, she put up a case of me being an uneducated stallion who had only ever worked in the docks or did odd jobs, and that I couldn’t take care of Blinky. She still takes half of my salary as alimony. If Blinky didn’t love me as much as she does...” The barmaid pats his head. “Believe it or not, I’ve heard a story like that many, many times. I just don’t know how it ends, because I’m here, and the ponies who share their pain with me eventually aren’t. The best I can say is that even if you are far away from your daughter, she loves you, and she won’t forget her through any and all uncertainty and adversity.” Dusty’s vision is blurry, and no amount of wiping can help anymore. “S-Speaking from ex-experience?” “Yeah,” she smiles. Dusty pushes himself on all fours on the second attempt. “I should go.” “Good luck.” With that, Dusty pays his bill, and leaves. ”ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS POISON HIM. SO EASY. HELL, EVEN JUST LETTING HIM DRINK UNTIL HIS LIVER GAVE OUT WOULD HAVE GOTTEN HIM, MAYBE. YOUR KING MUST BE SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, AND YOU GOT FURTHER THAN ANY OF YOUR MIND CONTROL EXPERTS, EVEN THAT PATHETIC SUCCUBUS COULDN’T SEE THROUGH HER PART IN TIME.” “I know,” admits Gem, “I understood this illusion, and I assume each of us has a role to play, but I couldn’t just kill him. Even for the greater good, I couldn’t.” Gem fades. ”YOUR PURITY AGAINST THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD, CHANGELING, AND YOU CHOSE TO DOOM THEM.” Dusty Satchel stumbles through the early morning Manehattan. There is over an hour left before the secret meeting, and he probably shouldn’t get there wasted. Maybe if he’s at least a little lucky, he’ll be able to get into his apartment, and if he leaves the money with the landlord he might not get kicked out after all. As he walks through a park, two unicorns and an earthpony catch up to him. He, in his shape, hears them too late, and the blackjack to his head catches him completely off-guard. Dusty drops like a sack of bricks. He can feel something touching his saddlebag, so he kicks up and hears a crack. An earthpony without inhibitions is a deadly force, which one of the unicorns, specifically the one currently landing on the grass a pony length away, learns quickly. Unfortunately, then comes the angry kick to the head from one of his mates, followed by multiple more kicks into his head, back, and barrel. He protects his muzzle at first, but the dazing kicks prove too much, and he can feel his saddlebags being taken away shortly. “What’s going on here!” yells someone, making the three attackers scatter. A moment later, Dusty sees light approaching, and hooves touching him, “Are you okay?” It’s a Royal Guard helmet. “J-Just leave me here...” Dusty breathes out, realizing the muggers took all his money, and with them any hope for the future, “I don’t have anywhere to go anymore...” He can barely make out the armored mare who picks him up on her back. “Look, if it was up to me, your drunk ass deserves this, but It’s my job to protect even those with whose choices I don’t agree,” she says, her voice deep for a mare and filled with disdain, “Where do you live? I’ll make sure you get home safe, and we can write a protocol there.” Back in the apartment building, the armored mare carries Dusty upstairs until he says: “That bastard...” A pile of personal belongings on the floor of the hallway tolls the final bell for Dusty’s hopes about today possibly somehow working out, although it’s more a rotten cherry on a spoiled cake that were the muggers. “Is that your stuff?” “Yes, and I can’t pay my rent now that the assholes robbed me,” Dusty slides off of the mare’s back, “And no, I can’t tell you anything about them other than they were two unicorns and an earthpony. Colors? No idea - night. Voices? They didn’t speak. I’m sorry, miss, but that’s it. I’m done,” he sits down with his back against the wall, “I told you you should have left me there.” “Look, if you don’t want to at least file a complaint, I can’t help you. I’ll bring you to the station, it’s not a big deal.” Dusty shakes his head. “No, it’s… okay.” “Fine,” she shakes her head, “But if you decide to be reasonable, police station is-” “I know where it is, and thank you, officer. I mean it,” he smiles, one eye swollen. “Alright, alright,” with a sigh of her own, she leaves Dusty next to a pile of his things. ”REALLY? REALLY?! YOU DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE WHAT’S GOING ON? NOT EVEN THE SLIGHTEST IDEA?” “What’s going on- oh fuck!” Eight disappears. ”YOU REALLY DON’T DESERVE MY GLOATING.” “Hello, sir!” Dusty turns his head, and sees a pegasus colt around twelve tugging at a bag of garbage. “Who are you?” asks Dusty “I’m Glowstick, I live next door,” he trots over, and carefully pokes Dusty, “The unicorn who owns this place sent few ponies who threw all this out of the apartment. If you want, I can help you throw things out,” he nods to his half-empty bag, “Dad’s busy today so it’s up to me to keep the place all neat and tidy.” “You live there with just your dad?” “Oh yeah. I remember mom only from when I was really small, and dad didn’t tell me where she went. He always says he’ll tell me when I’m older.” “Heheh, my filly always gets mad at me when I say something like that.” “I trust dad, he’s awesome. We’ve been through a lot of bad stuff with unicorns, but he’s always found a way to pull through. He’ll tell me when I’m ready, and I’ll have to prove he believed me for a good reason.” “You’re a good colt, Glowstick.” “Hee hee hee,” the colt beams, then realizes something, “I almost forgot, I gotta take out the trash! I can take something if you want, really, no problem. I’m stronger than I look.” “Heh, don’t worry about that,” Dusty can’t help smiling. There’s just something about Glowstick that takes his mind away from the pain of today… and the last decade, “I’ll just have a quick rest, and then I’ll figure out what to do with my stuff.” “Okay! Goodnight, mister… Dusty… Pouch?” “Dusty Satchel.” “Eeeh, sorry. Goodnight!” Glowstick grabs the trash bag, and resumes pulling it down the long hall and down the stairs. ”AN OVERWHELMING FORCE OF POSITIVITY.” “Yep, that’s me!” ”WHAT? THAT’S ALL? A GOD IS TALKING TO YOU AND THIS IS ALL YOU’LL SAY?” “What’s a god?” ”AN OMNIPOTENT BEING CAPABLE OF WIPING OUT YOU AND YOUR WHOLE LITTLE HIVE WITH A THOUGHT!” “Neat, thanks for not thinking about it then!” ”YOU! WHAT? YOU! I-” “Bye, mister dog!” Three disappears into the darkness on his own. Dusty, of course, has no clue about any of that happening as he lies beside the pile of his belongings. Maybe he’ll just leave everything here for the time being, go to the secret meeting, and then he’ll see what next. After all, he’s supposed to receive their Watcher’s Gift, and they might let him stay in their warehouse base at least for tonight. Yeah, that’s a good course of action. With a grunt, his attempt at getting up is interrupted by a noise like an open sack of potatoes spilling down a set of wooden stairs. Immediately after, he just blinks in confusion as a tide of eleven tiny changelings rolls over him, all grabby and nuzzly. “What the-? Uhh, what?” Dusty can’t grasp the absurdity of the situation, “If you want love, or whatever they said you eat, I doubt I’ve got any left after today. I’m just tired.” The changelings hug him at once, and then rush off. “What?” repeats Dusty, head tilted and brows furrowed. ”ASKING THE WRONG GOD HERE, I HAVE NO IDEA.” Of course, Dusty doesn’t hear the booming voice, so with only a shake of his head, he gets up and sets on his way to the secret meeting. When he drinks the strange water the ‘cultists’ present to him, everything becomes clear. The weariness of age suddenly feels easier, the future is brighter, and he is stronger than maybe ever before. All he needs to do now is bring more ponies into the fold, and when he does, there will be more of the Gift waiting for him. He’ll get through any adversity to be with Blinky. A lot of horrible things happened today, but maybe there is still a little light in this world. No one who hasn’t been “there” truly understands how little kindness is needed to make things go a completely different way. *** In the common darkness of the hive mind, all changelings appear. “What happened?” I ask, “I sent you into the Vigil’s head, and suddenly everything just went black. Next thing I know, we’re all back here.” ”THEY FAILED YOU! YOUR ASSASSINS COULDN’T MUSTER THE COURAGE OR FORESIGHT TO KILL MY SERVANT. AND WITH THAT, I BID YOU FAREWELL. YOU WERE AMUSING TOYS TO WATCH, BUT YOUR TIME IS UP. THINK ABOUT YOUR WEAKNESS AS HE RIPS YOUR SOFT HEARTS OUT.” With echoing laughter, the foreign presence is gone. “I… failed...” One stares into the darkness, “I understood the illusion too late. I just… when I was… when I wasn’t myself… I just couldn’t harm someone for no reason, no matter how much I disliked him. Not anymore...” “Yeah,” Two agrees, “I was a step away from him. One good stab and he was a goner, but… everyone was just shitting on him all the time, and even if he deserved a little part of it, all I could think of was that I needed to help him. Of course, if I was myself and knew what was on the line, I would have ended him immediately.” “He just needed a friend, because the only one who he could talk to was a talking dog,” Three shakes his head, “Can dogs talk? I don’t recall from when we were on the surface.” “Hole, even just having someone to listen to his problems helped, just not enough,” Gem sighs, “I must come clean, if this is the end, I saw through the illusion. I just couldn’t poison him, or let him poison himself. I’m sorry… and at the same time I’m not. I failed all of you, but I didn’t fail myself.” She hangs her head, and I hug her. “Like others, I realized what was happening only when I was allowed to and the voice gloated at me. I failed the hive,” says Five simply. “I played his friend, his FRIEND!” Seven punches the ground, “I had the easiest role, and I couldn’t do anything. On instinct, I even took him out to make him feel better. Why are we so soft and all goody-goody?” he frowns, “Some infiltrator I am… I had no clue what was going on until the end.” “What illusion, what was going on?” asks Eight, “I remember being a guard and then… something?” “I GOT STUCK HERE!” yells Cryo. “I guess you changed the changelings, boss,” Ten chuckles, “Too bad that if we were heartless, self-serving monsters like before, we might have caused some brain damage to that bastard and KEEP on being heartless, self-serving monsters. Just kidding, boss, I wouldn’t change it for the old days, even if it means us dying here.” “I don’t think any of you want me to say I’m sorry,” I look at them shaking their heads as one, “Then I guess it’s time to go back and face the consequences. Whoever can run, run!” The inky blackness of the hive mind disappears, giving way to the reality of the istrium mine hub lit by Seven’s floating green balls. No, not those. Those can be green, but don’t float. Huh, the Vigil looks a little brighter. His mane is less dusty and greyed out, and the same goes for his coat. ”FINISH THEM, AND THEN YOU CAN GO HAVE FUN WITH THE DWARVES AND ANYONE ELSE. THE TIME FOR MY RETURN IS COMING.” “I...” the Vigil- Dusty Satchel hesitates, and groans, “Not like… this...” “What would Blinky think if she saw this?” I ask. He drops on his haunches, staring at me with horrified eyes filling with tears. “You’re right...” he whispers, “I remember… it was bad, but not all dark and bleak. Maybe there is some hope.” I mentally poke Three. ”He’s distracted. Friendship camp time.” He pushes the button on the BFG. “Yay, lasers, friendship, love, and hope. All that in rainbow form!” Three yells, smiling, “Welcome to the friendship camp!” And so, Dusty Satchel gets blasted not with green boiling ball of plasmatic death, but with an actual pulsating rainbow ball shooting out of the weapon head on. It’s filled with love, friendship, hope, rainbows… ...but thankfully, the plasma is still there too. Rainbow lasers of friendship are great, but I’ll take an unstable fusion core shot at my enemies any day over it. WHY is it made of rainbows this time? I have no idea. If there’s someone I’m not about to question, it’s Three. “Wohooo! He didn’t forget to pack anything this time!” Three cheers at the thin wisp of smoke, the only thing remaining from Dusty and the boiling crater around where he was. We did it. It’s over.