Holder stood frozen, watching the princess retract. She stared back at him, and their eyes met. Then she quickly passed, going on her way toward the place that Holder and Piwancha were fleeing. And seeing her eyes, he understood.
“That’s the princess,” said Piwancha, ducking behind cover. “Should I follow her? If we’re seen- -”
“No. It’s okay. I think she knows.”
“How can you possibly be sure of that? If we’re caught- -”
“We won’t be caught. I promise.”
Piwancha frowned. “And how can you make that promise?”
Holder smiled weakly, even as his eyes were filled with desperation. He tapped the hilt of his sword.
“Because I won’t let them, Pi. I just won’t.”
Piwancha nodded. “We have to get going, then. Even without my horn I can sense a disturbance in the luminiferous ether. Something big is here. We have to hurry.”
Holder nodded. “Her name is Daybreaker, the embodiment of Red Order.”
Piwancha froze, and although she did not know why, she was afraid. She recalled the stories that had told to her when she had still been whole, as an innocent filly- -when the elders had told her why the Questlords must remain forever in hiding.
“How do you know that?”
“Because she never stop screaming. And sometimes I hear things through it.”
“What kind of things?”
Holder just smiled the saddest smile that Piwancha had ever seen. “Nothing important.”
They ran. All around them, the world was ending. The sky was red, lit by an enormous burning sun and a tiny, insignificant silver moon. The extreme heat was changing the climate, and the windigoes were neighing and fleeing. The flaming wreckage of damaged skyships and destroyed golems littered the abandoned streets. The whole world seemed to be on fire.
They stopped suddenly at a corner. The path was blocked by the crystal hull of a dead skyship. Golems littered the ground, broken and in various states of repair as their tiny brethren tracked down parts to attempt to fix what they could, not knowing that they no longer served any real purpose.
“Oh,” said Holder, his face falling. “That...that was where the Halite used to be...”
“Forget that. We need to get around it.”
Holder looked in both directions, wincing in pain as he did. “There are Equestrian forces that way, and the other one is a dead end.” He paused, closing his eyes. “It looks like we have to go through.”
“Through? It’s on fire! In case you have not noticed? I lack wings. I am an EARTH-PONY. Apparently.” She winced. “Ugh this is so unpleasant. I don’t know how you deal with it.”
“You get used to it,” said Holder. He chuckled slightly. “It’ll be okay. In a year, you won’t even notice.”
“If we make it a year. At this rate, I doubt we can make it more than an hour.”
“We’ll see.” Holder reached for the sword on his back, threading his hoof through the ring in the center of the handle.
Piwancha took several large steps back. She could not have known how heartbreaking this was to Holder, to see that she could be so very afraid of him. “No,” she said. It was more or less an order. “You can’t do that! If you use the Blade- -”
Holder smiled nervously. “I think I can control it. I think I can make her do what I tell her, instead of the other way around.”
“Have you ever been able to do that before?”
Holder and Pi’s eyes met. “No,” he said. “But you were never with me before. Will you trust me?”
Piwancha stared at him, before eventually rolling her eyes. “Yes. I give you my word as a knight.”
Holder smiled again. This time, it was somewhat sincere. Then he turned to the hull of the fallen ship and drew the Black Blade.
In an instant, it- -as well as every golem in the area, including the adorable small ones- -had been cleaved in twain. Piwancha had not even blinked, but still she watched as the shredded ship fell apart- -and her eyes fell to Holder, his hair ghostly white and his eyes deepest red.
He turned to her, and suddenly the Black Blade was at her throat. Piwancha did not flinch in the slightest, or attempt any form of defence.
“No!” cried Holder, grasping his sword-hoof with the other. “Pi, run! You have to RUN!”
“No,” she said, still unflinching. “I gave you my word that I would trust you. And I do. Either prove you are worthy of my trust, or finish this here and now.”
Holder glared at her, bearing his teeth and screaming as the Blade called to him, demanding to be fed on the bodies and souls of living ponies. Yet Piwancha still did not move, not in the slightest. She stared into Holder’s eyes, knowing- -and hoping- -that he was staring back at hers.
Holder’s hoof began to shake, and the sword along with it. With a roar of desperate effort, he managed to lift it away from Piwancha’s neck.
“N- -NO!” he screamed. “I won’t let you have her! I WON’T!”
For a brief moment, Piwancha thought that she could hear the sword speaking as it passed her ear. Its voice was terrible, although she could not understand the foul and unknowable language spoken by stones. She was infinitely glad of that, because even without understanding it the Blade’s screams were ghastly.
Holder managed to push the sword into its scabbard, and he immediately dropped. Piwancha grabbed him as he fell, supporting him.
“Pi...Pi...”
“I’m here, Holder. I’m here with you. You did great.”
Holder looked up. He was sweating badly and looked exceedingly ill. “No. No, I almost Cymoriled you. I can’t do that a second time. It took everything I had...and I can still hear her. She wants you. She wants you so badly...”
“You won’t have to do it a second time, then. I can fight for the both of us.”
Holder looked up at her, his eyes wide. “You would do that? For me?”
Pi smiled. “You have proven that I can trust you. Please allow me to do the same.”
The time had come. Nekro had prepared her final deference, built from the endless knowledge implanted in her brain. She was Necrophilo of Canterlot, and before him, she was Twilight Luciferian. With their limitless knowledge coursing through her undead mind, she had devised a single, final plan.
Her students began affixing the machines to her.
“Teacher,” said one, attaching a psyonic relay. “I need to lodge a protest.”
“Yes, Cream?”
“The theories- -they don’t line up. I’ve reviewed everything. We all have- -and this can’t work. It just can’t. All of your theories point to it being completely impossible!”
Nekro smiled. “Because Necrophilo was too careful about what he wrote down. He dismissed things he did not understand, although he retained the knowledge of them. I wonder what that knowledge could have been used for in the hooves of a virtuous pony. I suppose we shall never know. But at least I can use it for this.”
“It could tear you apart.”
“If it does, so be it.”
She stood up and turned to Chrysalis, who was standing and leaning against her machine.
“What?”
“Are you going to assist?”
“I’m an infiltrator. What do you expect me to do?”
“Infiltrate?”
Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “There’s no time. But yeah. I’ve got a plan. I borrowed some of the fatty’s love. I have no idea how much, but I didn’t take that much. Barely skimmed the surface. I’ll see what I can do.”
“In other words, you are afraid to compete with me.”
Chrysalis’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’ll compete. But go ahead. You go first.”
Nekro smiled. She turned to her students.
“Begin the process,” she said.
They nodded, and in unison took their roles: some at the machines, and some standing in the magic circle drawn below using powdered crystal and magical yeast. They each turned their horns toward the artifact under the central tarp.
Nekro raised her horn and cast a mighty spell. The machines surrounding her drew upon it, linking her to the machines and to the spells of her students as their horns ignited and they each did their part. They worked together toward a common goal, united in desperation and in ancient and arcane knowledge.
The power draw was significant, and Nekro was forced to her knees. Despite the machines used to protect her, her body was still only a construct. It was straining and struggling to hold together; indeed, she was at risk of being torn apart.
Which was where she and Necrophilo differed. Necrophilo had never understood, because he was simply a derivative of Twilight Luciferian. Neither could have understood the true nature of the field, because neither of them had ever known love.
Nekro had. Deep within herself, Hope still recalled those she fought for. Inside the Citadel, Sombra was waiting for her, as was Penumbra. She would protect them in every way she could, regardless of the cost.
And she stood. The spell increased in intensity, and the magic symbols and unholy runes carved into the crystal floor began to glow. The tarp began to rise.
Suddenly all of the machines burst in plumes of sparks. Several unicorns screamed as they were blown backward by detonating vacuum tubes and sudden shorts across the more delicate segments of the magic circle.
“It can’t take the power!” cried Frosty Cream. “We have to abort!”
“NO.” Nekro raised her horn and stood firm. “I will not give up! I REFUSE!”
The circle ignited, throwing back the mages supporting it, and as it did, a massive skeletal claw rose from beneath the covering, tearing it back as the construct stood. Nekro burst out laughing as the mages stared in awe at their creation. Before them stood a creature forged of crystal and bone, manufactured from the skeleton of a dragon so valiantly retried by the Blue Knight in the name of his king, not realizing what role it was meant to play in the final defense of the Empire.
The dragon stood, its empty eye sockets ablaze with green fire. One of the mages, suddenly remembering her job, activated a secondary system that levered an appropriately-sized crystalline sword to the dragon’s grasp.
Nekro took command. She, like it, was a construct, a formerly living creature rebuilt with some artificial parts and preservatives to maintain the rest. The only difference was that she still had a brain, albeit a formaldehyde-fixed one, as well as a tiny fragment of a soul.
She ordered the construct to take the blade. It did, pulling it free from its housing. It stood, towering over the ruined city- -and then it began to walk.
As it lumbered off, the mages watched in silence. Then, slowly, they began to disperse. Nekro turned to Chrysalis. “Now do try to beat that.”
Chrysalis glared at her. “Just watch me.”
The changeling stepped out toward the city, quietly muttering bug swear words under her breath. She had not absorbed nearly enough love to do something THAT impressive. It had been only the tiniest fraction of the love inside Penumbra; Chrysalis had intended to allow her to keep the rest for the battle against the alicorns. Had she known that Penumbra would be such a failure, she would have taken all of it.
There was perhaps enough to become a bugbear, or maybe a giant crab.
“Think big thoughts,” she told herself, closing her eyes. “Think BIG thoughts...”
Her body began to spark with changeling magic. Then she morphed.
Suddenly, she was looking down across the city as if it were in miniature. She towered above it, having assumed the form of an eight-legged titan of old. Even Nekro’s undead dragon seemed to look up at her in surprise. It was not nearly surprised, however, as Chrysalis herself.
“HOOOOLLLLEEEEYYY CRRRRRAAAAPPPP!” She began to laugh manically. She looked down at Nekro, who looked like an ant from above. Then she looked out at the tiny battles below her. “Guess what, my little ponies? Somepony’s getting SQUISHED! And this time? It’s not ME!”
She then proceeded to wade through the city, on the hunt for some Equestrian ponies to step on.
A smile slowly crossed Twilight Luciferian’s face. He had been lounging on the side of a collapsed building, watching the events unfold. So far, everything had moved in his favor, although he was aware that time was running short. His own life was draining low, and Sombra’s rebirth was drawing near. Yet the prophecy still held true. The princess would be his queen, and he would rule the Crystal Empire. That fact could not ever be changed; it was invariable and absolute.
There was no other option than to allow Daybreaker to win the war. The slate would need to be wiped clean. Luciferian would rebuild from the ashes. He had resolved himself to this, and chosen his side.
And now, he had control of a dragon.
The dragon turned suddenly and smashed its sword into a formation of allied yaks. Yaks went flying everywhere, and the last of their support mages opened fire only to find that their spells were useless against the undead monstrosity before them.
Nekro cried out and dropped to her knees. Crozea ran to her side.
“Why are you attacking our own forces?! Those are our yaks, not the enemy horses!”
“He’s trying to take control,” groaned Necro. She gritted her teeth and stood. “I- -I can’t let him! I have his soul, but I am not him! I AM ME!”
She managed to take control of the dragon construct, but not to actively make it attack. She had been trapped in a mortal struggle between her undead mind and Luciferian’s soul fragment. In the chaos, the Equestrian forces opened fire. Spells rang out from the occupied sections of the Empire, and Pegasi burst forth from their newly established landing zones- -only to be knocked from the air by one of eight monstrous hooves.
The mages opened fire on Chrysalis, but they were insignificant at her size. She stomped on the center of their formation, crushing them into the ground and sending the rest flying.
“HA! Stupid ponies! That’ll teach you to make health potions out of our larval extract! Who’s the bug now? WHO’S THE BUG?!”
She then trampled an entire formation of earth-ponies, only to barely manage to dodge a sudden attack from the dragon at her side.
“HEY! Nekro, what are you- -”
The sword stroke had been a distraction. A sudden ray of pink magic shot forth from an empty region of the city, striking Chrysalis’s flank with almost enough force to knock her over. She let out a booming squeak of anger and pain, and with her flank still smoking she looked downward at where the attack had come from. Although everything looked tiny in her titan form, her eyes immediately picked up on the figure standing atop a broken building. As sickly as he was, there was no mistaking him, or the crystals in slow orbit around his body.
“Luciferian,” growled Chrysalis. She reared on her four hind legs and raised the front four. “You freak! I’ve been wanting to do this for a long, long time!”
She brought her hooves down, and Luciferian’s crystals changed position, forming the vertices of a cubic shield. Chrysalis stamped him to the point where the entire region was driven to the ground as rubble. But even as she did, she cried out in pain as the shield spell shocked her.
She pulled her hooves back to find Luciferian’s spell fully intact with him standing in the center, smiling.
“You’re interfering, Chrysalis,” he said. “And I can’t allow that.”
His crystals retracted, circling and forming a new spell. A portal opened. From it, a thin, flesh-colored claw reached out. As it did, its surface bubbled and erupted with eyes, all of them suddenly focusing on Chrysalis. They narrowed and tore themselves open, revealing plumes of tentacle-riddled mouths. The claw drove pulled forward, dragging a sea of morphing, changing flesh behind it. More claws and tentacles came, and more appendages that did not even have legitimate names.
The proteus pulled itself forward in a frenzy, rushing outward from the portal in a single manic wave, drawn immediately toward the scent of its natural prey. Luciferian could not help but laugh. This was not even a natural-born proteus, and yet it was still drawn by the same set of instincts. He liked to imagine that it was out of desperation, that the mage it had once been wished so desperately to change back into what he once had been. Of course, that was impossible. Luciferian had been very careful to make sure that he was the last and only member of House Twilight that there ever would be.
The living flesh tore across the kingdom, gaining mass and size as it pulled in more material. It had been starved for its entire life, trapped in the Arena stables and endlessly experimented upon- -but now it was free to do as it pleased. And what it wanted more than anything was to EAT.
Chrysalis took a step back, horrified by the hideous thing crawling toward her. It immediately reached out, spewing elastic psuedopods onto one of her hooves. Then it pulled itself against her. She cried out as it started to chew.
“No you DON’T!” she cried, slamming her hoof into the ground. With a horrible squishing sound, the proteus splattered- -only for the pieces to open their violet eyes and stare up at her, confused as to why she was hurting it. Then it began to reassemble.
She struck it again. The extreme overdose of love she had inadvertently absorbed had rendered her far stronger and denser than a normal transformation would allow. So she leapt on the proteus, beating it relentlessly.
It squished beneath her hooves, even as it was trying to bite and attack her. It had begun to scream things that were almost words, modulated through various indescribable vocal organs. Chrysalis hated the sound- -but more than that, hated how afraid it made her. She was not some ordinary changeling drone, hiding in fear of the next attack by some beast, whether it be a proteus, maulwurf, or marauding ponies. She was a QUEEN, and she would not allow some monster summoned by a feeble pony wizard to defeat her. Not when there was a job to do, and not when she was so close to outdoing the pony she had come to consider as her best friend.
The proteus suddenly shifted, forming a pair of muscular arms. It grabbed two of Chrysalis’s hooves, and then another two. It lifted her and threw her down, immediately leveling a substantial section of the Equestrian forward lines. It generated more limbs and tentacles, as well as claws and endless patterns of mouths. Chrysalis tried to punch it, but she had been pinned on her back. It immediately covered her, swarming across her flesh and biting into her, attempting desperately to take the power that allowed her to control her shapeshifting. In seconds it had covered her, and began to harden as it developed a protective carapace so that it could digest its meal in peace.
It continued to retract- -but then suddenly began to glow from within. Its surface began to crack, and the proteus wept as it broke apart, ignited from within by devastating magic. Suddenly it broke apart completely and a beam of green energy lit the sky. Chrysalis rose from the center, her horn turned to the sky and held aloft in victory. As the proteus was burned away to ash, she took one last look over the kingdom and relished her success. Then she began to change.
Penumbra’s love had been enough to save her life, but she had not taken enough to maintain her form for long. Her morph collapsed, and she became her default, true self: a little changeling filly, now tired and devoid of love.
She fell, barely conscious, desperately trying to control her descent with her wings. The best she could do was to buzz and spiral downward until she struck the melting snow below, bounced one, and lay still.
Chrysalis tried to stand, but she was too weak. There was virtually no love in the Crystal Empire for her to feed on.
She heard hoofsteps. She tried to stand again, but to no avail. Then she heard the sound of wings as Pegasi surrounded her. A trio of Equestrian unicorns joined them, and Chrysalis was surrounded.
“It’s a changeling,” said one, in awe. “I didn’t even think they were real!”
“Look how ugly it is! Like a big bug!”
Chrysalis shakily made a rude gesture. “I will suck the love from your fathers...” she moaned.
“Yeah,” said one of the unicorns, stepping forward. “We should probably capture it.”
“We should probably give it a beating, just in case.”
The unicorn smiled, thinking that a beating was probably a good idea- -and was suddenly electrocuted from behind with a surge of green magic.
The others turned, confused, and one of the Pegasi performed an elegant backflip, driving her hoof into the chin of another while the unicorn struck out again at another. In seconds, all the Equestrian soldiers had been rendered unconscious save for two.
The pair of them approached Chrysalis carefully. One was a pale unicorn, and the other a white Pegasus- -but as Chrysalis watched, their bodies flashed with green energy and the pair revealed their true forms.
They were changelings, their bodies a shade of dusky red and marked with pale yellow stripes. The colors of Queen Ootheca.
Chrysalis groaned. “Great,” she said. “I knew this was a terrible idea. Stupid fat princess...”
The changelings stopped. Then they bowed, and their bodies changed again. Although they remained changelings, they became smaller and thinner. Their red-brown chitin became black, and their eyes and wings became pale turquoise. Even their limbs adopted holes, one of Chrysalis’s characteristic traits.
“Wait, what?”
“Praise the Queen,” they said in unison. One of them looked over her shoulder. “We have to hurry, my queen! Before the others gather!”
Chrysalis’s eyes grew wide. “You...you’re loyal? To ME?”
“Of course, my queen. Nor are we the only ones. Ootheca has grown weak and placid.”
“But your deeds have proven yourself to be far stronger! You are the only worthy Queen!”
Chrysalis tried to stand. “I’m not done yet- -”
“My Queen!” One of the changelings grabbed her, steadying her as she stood. “You have expended too much energy! Your body is already undergoing the change!”
Chrysalis gasped. “No, no not now! I can’t do it now!” She groaned, grabbing her torso. The changelings were right. She could feel it. Her organs were already beginning to liquefy.
“You are progressing to the final instar! You must come with us! We and the others can protect you during the molt!”
“But the Empire...”
“There’s nothing left you can do for it! It has already fallen. But the changelings still have a chance to survive, so long as you do.”
“Please, my Queen! Ootheca’s forces make up a substantial part of the Equestrian military, we do not have much time!”
“And if I ordered you to stay? To leave me here? Or to fight beside me?”
The changelings looked at each other, then at Chrysalis. “You are the Queen. We would obey. But there is no chance of victory. You would never rule, and our kingdom would fall.”
Chrysalis stared at them, and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
More Pegasi descended, surrounding the location where the giant eight-legged monster had last been seen. They drew their spears and immediately entered the area, prepared for a fight.
They found what remained of the advanced guard. Several had already been taken out and were lying on the ground, splayed and unconscious. Only three remained: a female Pegasus from the air squadron, and two unicorns. One of them was badly injured and supported by the other two.
“What happened here?”
“We were ambushed! They went to the east!”
“She’s hurt bad,” said the Pegasus supporting the injured unicorn’s left side. “We need to get her back to the field hospital ASAP.”
“Of course!” The Pegasus commander turned to his subordinates and raised his spear. “You heard them! To the east, on the double!”
The Pegasi guards moved quickly past the trio of ponies. None of them noticed as the injured mare in the center took one last backward look at the Crystal Citadel- -or saw the tears in her eyes as she turned away.