//------------------------------//
// 10: Giant step sideways 
// Story: Changelings in Silver Sunlight 
// by Nameless Narrator 
//------------------------------//

Stone floor normally illuminated only by everpresent light of no apparent source flashes as flames burst out in a large circle, draw a pentagram, and when their flare dies out, it leaves behind three equine figures, one huge and two smaller.

In the cacophony of screeching, squawking, and roaring following the summoning portal opening and closing, Five reaches at blinding speed inside her beard, and pulls out a shotgun with her newly clawed forelegs for better grip, rearing on her hind legs, and turning around to assay the loud threats. 

*Click click!*

Seven is significantly less calm, immediately darting between Stompy’s legs to gain some physical protection in addition to him quickly casting several instant personal shielding spells to buy him time to focus on weaving stronger magic able to make this place a safe bastion.

Stompy casually turns his head while two small panels on his shoulders slide back, revealing the barrels of twin particle beams, and several slots all over his barrel shift, ready to greet any enemies with flamethrowers or set up energy barriers. His scanners reveal the presence of dozens of lifeforms all around even before he has the time to visibly “look around”. His analysis of he situation is instant, and even he has to admit to a certain degree of confusion.

“A zoo?” Five aims the double-barelled shotgun at one of many obviously very secure cages with various animals scattered around, who have gone silent after the first outburst of noise, and are now observing the food- I mean the visiting trio.

The place where they ended up doesn’t look like the land of fire and brimstone Five was expecting. In short, there are no sexy demons of any gender around, the whole area looks like a cavern lit by something invisible, full of cages with various mythical animals, and overall gloomy.

“Okay, where is Six, and where are the succubi, Seven?” she growls at the other changeling, “Analyze quickly before I start using you to test if all the weapons I brought with me still work.”

“Look, I did the reverse summoning spell correctly,” Seven walks out from under Stompy, and looks at a weird white chicken with red eyes in the nearest cage glaring at him for some reason. He requites the furious stare for a moment, then shrugs, and turns away. The chicken’s beak drops, and it turns around, sulking, “We are in Tartarus, but when you summon a succubus to your location, it’s different than the other way around. You can’t banish them to a particular place, rather where they came from. So the ritual I figured out didn’t bring us to the succubus who has Six, but somewhere where the succubi live.”

“In a zoo...” Five rolls her eyes.

“No, look, you dummy,” Seven sighs, pointing to a tall, black, double-winged door set in the side of the cavern near them. It doesn’t look openable whatsoever, and possesses no locking mechanism other than a rather small, perfectly circular hole at about head-height, “I think we’re right at the entrance to Tartarus, or right past it to be exact.”

“Good, so now we know how to get out,” Five nods towards a tunnel with stairs leading down on the other side of the cavern, “I’m going to assume we have to go that way, so let’s not waste time.”

“Let me interject,” says Stompy who has been spending time performing scans on the huge gate, “That gateway is not our way out. My scans show it’s a combination of magic, divinity, and natural phenomena related to the collision of dimensions. We don’t have the capability to break out, at least physically. The amount of energy required to melt through the door due to the partial absorption into the void is also out of the realm of possibility. There is a specific way to open this door, likely related to that hole, and we don’t know it.”

“Care to explain at least some of that in a way I could understand it?” Five scratches her head, “Other than the ‘we are not getting through no matter what’ part, I mean.”

“Let me, before she concludes that I’m useless, and that feeding me to those animals would be too funny to pass,” says Seven, and his voice takes on a lecturing tone, “You see, our dimension, or a plane of reality consists of what you can see - this planet and many more, the space between those, but also some particular pocket dimensions.”

“So our reality, or dimension, consists from more dimensions, or realities… what?” Five tilts her head.

“Pocket dimensions, that’s the differentiating thing. I know it’s an unfortunate name for the phenomenon, but I didn’t make it up. They are like mini-realities with their own rules set either by their creators or by the most powerful beings inside, but they are still within our plane of reality, because they are created by beings from our reality who cannot reach into other ones. Even the gods can only act as gods within the reality where they originated from, not anywhere else.”

“Oookay. I can’t say I understand why things are the way they are, but I’m getting the idea what you mean,” Fine nods.

“Good, because I really can’t answer the why right now,” Seven continues, “So, our Tartarus is a pocket dimension tied to our reality.”

“Hold up. What do you mean by our Tartarus?”

“Alternate realities, or parallel dimensions,” Seven sighs, “There are many kinds of realities, some with completely different laws of physics resulting in completely different versions of life and existence, but some are similar enough to result in nearly the same events. To illustrate, there is a reality in which the two of us still existed, I still got Six lost, and you shot me immediately. That would be a parallel reality, with its own version of Tartarus and other pocket dimensions.”

“So in some reality I did shoot you. Go alternate reality me!” cheers Five.

“Yeah, great...” Seven rolls his eyes, “So, now that you understand what a reality or a dimension is, you need to understand what the void is.”

“Something empty?” Five takes her best guess.

“Yes and no,” Seven smiles, “It’s called void because those who discovered it didn’t understand what it was. You see, I’ve been going through old dwarf texts, and they had ways to measure the… let’s say stability of reality. Stompy doesn’t have the knowledge to explain the theory, but as you can see, he has the measuring tools built in.”

“Get to the point, please. My head is starting to hurt, and we’re wasting time, I feel,” says Five.

“I’ll be quick then, since this is more an interesting research topic than something genuinely helpful,” Seven nods, “There is something between the realities, something with rules so vastly different that it can’t be considered a reality itself, and that’s the void. However, unlike what the name suggests, it’s far from empty. The thing is that, since the presumed rules of the place are so different, all experiments I read about in old dark priest archives in actually getting there ended up with the destruction of everything sent through the open rifts.”

“So we can’t go there even if we wanted. Good. How does that relate to our situation?” Five raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you can imagine the connections between the main reality and the created pocket dimension as tunnels through the ‘empty’,” Seven does hoof air-quotes, “void, which applies pressure on them, squeezes them you might say. Void also has this effect of absorbing energy ‘nearby’. Damn, we’re getting to a place where language of the uneducated grows insufficient,” Seven sighs, “Look, simply put, if you wanted to, let’s say, use an energy beam to burn through that gate, almost all of the energy would dissipate into the void because the door is an entrance to an extremely small tunnel between dimensions. Like if you wanted to pour hot water through a very thin metal tube lying in the snow. Most of the heat would dissipate before you reached the end. That’s why you can’t just destroy the door. And you can’t physically open it, because the pressure of void against this reality is keeping it physically shut like, hmm, opening a trap door under a cave-in, right? My guess is that unlocking the door properly uses some energy source to open a tunnel into the main reality in the same way summoning and banishing via magic does.”

“You know, this is fascinating in a way,” admits Five, her anger at Seven slowly, very slowly dissipating. That’s what too much smarts does to you, Seven just knows too much, which only means he can’t focus entirely on what he’s supposed to do. That’s not a problem for warriors. They just beat up who they’re supposed to, “and I do want to know more, or at least listen to you as a background noise, but for now we need to find Six, who is somewhere around, and we can’t get out through the gate. That’s what I know. What about the animals?” she points at the cages with most of the strange creatures just watching them or slowly falling asleep again after the intrusion woke them up.

“I have literally zero idea what those are supposed to be,” Seven shakes his head.

“Then let’s go deeper. I can’t leave Six in the hooves and hands of those demon sluts for too long. He’s mine!” frowns Five, shoving the shotgun into her fake beard, pulling out a hoof-held pistol, and silently heading towards the stairs down.

Seven’s infiltrator instincts kick in as well, and he shapeshifts his hooves for silent walking. Of course, after several steps he realizes how pointless that was, since-

*Thud thud thud thud!*

-Stompy is with them.

“My sensors are picking up steps from downstairs heading this way,” whispers Stompy as they reach the stairwell.

“Hide!” hisses Five. Hive mind communication would be useful here, but unfortunately the loudest member of their trio who would need it the most can’t connect anyway.

Five quickly points to the cavern walls by the mouth of the tunnel, and hides out of sight of anyone coming up. On the other side, Stompy and Seven do the same. Whoever is coming won’t know about them until they walk into the cavern, upon which they’ll be ripe for an ambush.

As the heavy steps draw closer, the trio prepare to unleash physical, magical, and technological death, and are primed for the first and likely final warning shot to anything smaller than a building. Five, mentally ready to give Seven the order which would translate to Stompy’s action as well, hesitates, though, as a grey creature the size and shape of two minotaurs put together passes by, not giving them a single glance. What stops Five from ordering its immediate annihilation is that the doubtlessly demonic being is wearing a set of grey overalls, holding a broom in one hand and a large bucket in the other, and smoking a cigarette.

There’s a name tag on his overalls, and it reads “Janitor”.

Five clears her throat. While the violent approach is the first thing on her mind like the good warrior that she is, she also isn’t One.

The demon janitor gasps, drops the bucket, and turns around, clearly far more surprised than the trio of intruders.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be here!” he rumbles, clutching his… well, probably heart. 

“You gonna snitch?” Five pulls out a rocket launcher from Three’s cheat beard.

Whether the demon recognizes the weapon, or even that it is a weapon is unclear, but he backs off, and grabs his bucket.

“Not my job...” he mutters, and shrugs, “I just clean the animal mess,” he points a clawed thumb towards the many, many cages.

“Say...” Seven speaks up, “We are in Tartarus, right?”

“Hmm?” the janitor scratches his head, “Yeah. Lemme guess, you got here on accident, did you?”

“No, we’re looking for someone,” replies Seven truthfully.

“I am going to feed you to the first thing I see, you idiot! Why are you telling him that?” Five snarls mentally.

“There’s no one up here, really,” the demon shrugs, “Just the animals, and the occasional special prisoners shown for all others sent here to see,” he looks at the empty but brighter lit cage set on a raised dais near the center of the huge cavern, “As you can see, there’s no one like that here right now. If you’re looking for the souls, they’re down on the Promenade.”

“The Promenade? It’s our first time here,” says Seven, which makes Five audibly grind her teeth.

“Oh yeah, that’s the level below us,” the janitor turns around, walks over to the nearest cage, which contains some sort of snake-goat-tiger hybrid, and starts examining its surroundings, “You don’t mind if I work while we chat, right? I don’t get much company that can talk up here.”

“No problem at all,” replies Seven, and the janitor starts sweeping the various kinds of waste around the cages, “So, about that Promenade place...”

“You see, Tartarus is like… a prison, a resting place for departed souls, and a home for various demons at the same time. Where are you guys from anyway? I don’t recognize tiny horsebugs like you.”

“Equestria, technically,” says Seven. The janitor scratches his head.

“Eh, can’t say I know the place. I’m more partial to worlds where intelligent creatures have two hands and two legs, no offense.”

“None taken. But if you don’t mind, we really need to find our friend fast, and I think some succubus has him.”

“Oh, than you don’t want the Promenade, but the Pit,” the janitor shakes his head, “And that’s a looong way to go for you, since you aren’t, you know, local. First, you need to go down to the Promenade where the recently dead souls kinda ‘live’ until they’re ready to disappear. It’s a big city in a way, a mix of various afterlives. The Promenade is surrounded by the Silent Circle...” the demon shudders.

“Sounds ominous,” comments Five, finally coming to terms with the idea of not evaporating the demon with copious amounts of firepower.

“Yeah… the Silent Circle is filled with the worst and the most powerful criminals whose souls and powers have been separated from their local versions of bodies. Technically, it’s the safest place in Tartarus, but it still gives me the creeps,” he shudders again, “Aaanyway, you need to pass through to the lower circles where we demons live, and that’s where you real critters are in the most trouble since, you know, you can get eaten pretty quick, and unlike us you don’t just reappear back at home.”

“We know how to defend ourselves, but we really don’t want any sort of army on our backs,” says Five.

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” the janitor waves his huge hand, “Demons in the lower circles eat each other all the time. Like, back at the university I used to be the champion at lost soul dodgeball, explosions all over the place,” he flexes his biceps for Five who gives him an unimpressed look.

“Then how did you end up cleaning crap up here?”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he shrugs, “University degree isn’t what it used to be. I majored in soul whipping and flaying, but no one appreciates handiwork anymore. These days they have these grinder-like machines which just strip flesh off of you easy. I say, where’s the personal touch in that? The baddies need to know that while they’re being punished, someone cares and that they aren’t just a statistic.”

“Ahem,” Seven clears his throat to return back on topic, “Promenade, Silent Circle, lower circles, and then the succubi?”

“Nah, not yet,” the janitor starts scrubbing the stone floor around the first few cleaned cages, “The Citadel is next, with all the demon snobs. Don’t get me started on those,” he spits on the floor which leaves a charred spot. He sighs, and scrubs it harder, “But hey, there’s a portal to the Pit in the Citadel, and that’s where your succubi live and where your friend will be if they have him.”

“You know, I wasn’t expecting this, but… thanks?” Five walks over and offers a hoof to shake. The janitor many times her mass simply grabs her by her barrel with one hand, and rather gently shakes her.

“No problem, tiny horsebug. It’s nice having someone to talk to from time to time. Mostly, the prisoners just wail, threaten, or try to bribe me to let them out. Honestly, it’s better with just the animals here,” he pats the head of something dragon-ish which playfully snaps at his claws.

With that, our heroes still stunned by their first encounter descend the stairs to the next part of Tartarus - the Promenade.


***


The darkness of the oasis night means nothing to my eyes, and when a zebra bandit who regularly checks up on us sees me pretending to be asleep, Three lying on his back with his hind legs twitching, as well as still unconscious Cromach, and leaves, I immediately fire up my hive mind link. Contacting Three this close with this flimsy of a suppressor on my horn is easy.

“Wake up, Three!”

“Ready and not snoring anymore, boss!” he immediately responds, although his physical body remains sleeping and casually kicking.

“I’ve got a plan to get us out of here, but it’s a bit complicated, since Cromach is in no shape to walk. I’ll be on the lookout, so you get in my cage, and take my suppressor off. I’m not going to risk making noise trying to take it off myself.”

I also believe that not getting my brain fried would help me think my way out of this mess.

With the faintest green shimmer, Three transforms into a fly, buzzes into my cage, transforms back, and unscrews the suppressor off of my horn. Keeping him disguised as non-magical species was the right call.

“Now I need you to transform into me.”

In the next second, I’m looking into dark blue eyes I usually only see in the mirror.

“I meant the unicorn me me, not changeling me,” I correct Three’s transformation, and so quickly does he, “Good, now you’re going to pretend you’re me, and that you escaped into the desert because you were small enough to fit through the bars with enough effort. Got it?”

“Yes, boss! But there’s two of us now.”

“Not for long,” I grin, and put my memory to good use. Comfort, Gem, and even Two did their best impart their infiltration instincts on me. King or not, all my personal experiences were as a drone, so my skills were never as polished as theirs. However, the king part of me knows how to use skills of my subjects to augment my own. I call upon infiltrator recollection and analysis as I shapeshift into a snake and slither out of the cage. It takes love to balance out the loss of mass in comparison to my real body, which is why changelings simply don’t grow tons of muscles and keep them, but I have enough from my contact with Three. Enough to safely find the bandit leader’s well-lit and richly decorated tent, pass unseen by the slave chicks and mares chained outside apparently doing laundry as well as their best to ignore the moaning, grunting, and muffled crying from the inside.

While the inside of the tent is still a tent, it’s warm despite the desert night, and it could pass for my king quarters home in Brauheim. Real furniture is scattered around - wardrobes, a couch, a bed, rich carpeting, and an armchair over which the griffon bandit leader is currently bending a much smaller, crying, unicorn mare while twisting her horn and claiming her from the back.

“Yeah, take this, horn head! How is this for superior species, slave slut? Wha-?” despite his brutal, sexual fury, he notices me approaching. Or more exactly, he notices himself approaching, and opens his mouth to scream.

Now… there are several things I absolutely despise.

For obvious reasons, brutal tyrants abusing their subjects are in top three of those.

I grab his neck with one foreleg to stop his scream, and punch him with the other. Simple as that.

The crack leaves his head bent backwards, and I quietly let the dead griffon drop on the carpet. The slave mare whimpers as he slips out of her, and covers her face when I press my talons against her mouth.

“Shhh...” I pat her head, and give her a raised eyebrow until she starts reacting to the real world again, and nods, “Good,” I whisper, and let her go.

“W-Who-” she stutters, but shuts up when I put a single talon to my beak. Before I can say more, I hear commotion from the outside, and hiss, “We need to hide the body, now!”

I turn my head to find a good spot to hide the corpse of a rather big griffon. Luckily, the mare seems to know the spacious tent better than I do, and quickly opens one of the wardrobes which is filled with sheets and clothes. Spurred by adrenaline, I grab the griffon by the neck again, shove him under a neat stack of bedsheets, and close the wardrobe just in time as two of the big griffons who mercilessly shot the wounded bandits in the desert enter. I suppress my sudden rage telling me to chair them both. They will be useful for my plan.

“We heard something suspicious!” says one.

I glare at them, turn around, grab the unicorn mare’s horn, and firmly tug at it to make her move forward.

“I was teaching this pinhead her proper place under me. Get out, and if you interrupt me again, I’ll shoot you,” I growl, and slap the mare’s plot hard. She whimpers, stumbles, and tears burst out of her eyes which make it difficult to keep up my harsh appearance. 

The griffons leave. Thankfully, it seems that I mimicked the behavior of the chief well enough. After waiting for few seconds, I lean down to the mare, and whisper:

“I’m really sorry, but I needed to make it look believable.”

She breathes out, looks up at me, wipes her eyes, and whispers back:

“Who are you?”

I raise my foreleg, and let my talons change into a black hoof with small indentations where my holes used to be in the old days of not enough love. Surprisingly enough, I can feel her relaxing with the realization that I’m a changeling. I smile, and point at the bed. She obediently follows me, and we lie down next to each other under the sheet. 

“The bandits caught me and my friends, and they dragged us here in cages. They didn’t know I was a changeling,” I decide to keep Three’s identity secret for now just in case, “And you?”

“They caught me… I think two years ago, give or take. I was on a tourist trip through the Griffon Empire, but they raided our caravan, killed the guards, took the mares, and sold the stallions.”

“So the bandits know you, and you can move around the oasis freely, right?” I ask.

“Mhm, there isn’t anywhere to run. All slaves have their hind legs shackled, and there’s desert everywhere, so any escape is easy to track, and when they find you...” she covers her muzzle, and shivers.

“I’ll get everyone out,” I nod, “but I need information for that. Where are we, and what was the big plan the bandits had? You must have overheard something.”

“I don’t know, I’m just a slave. It was some sort of big raid on a small town nearby. They wanted to take the entire population away right under the noses of griffon soldiers.”

“Who would know more?”

“Those big guys. Crusher, Breaker, Ripper, and Disemboweler. They’re chief Karil’s oldest bodyguards.”

Those ‘names’ kill me a little on the inside. On the good hole, there’s a reasonable chance I’ll get to chair them a lot on the outside.

“Those aren’t real names, right?” I roll my eyes, “Speaking of which, what’s yours?”

“Silvershine, and of course they aren’t. It’s to keep other bandits and slaves in their place. Let me tell you, they might be nicknames, but they are earned. Those griffons are brutal and ruthless. Karil gave them the best slaves to play with, other than those whom he kept for himself, of course. Oh!” she perks up, ”Doctor Razim might know more too. He’s high on the ‘payroll’, because he keeps us in one piece. He’s not a bad guy, though. I was here when he got caught and tried to resist. Breaker and Crusher broke his legs in multiple places and ordered him to do what he was told.”

“Huh, I didn’t notice anything seriously wrong about his walking.”

“He’s a really good doctor. I think he used to be the head surgeon in some imperial hospital.”

“So he can be on our side if I have to fight at some point?”

“I… don’t think so. I don’t want to call him a coward, not after everything the bandits did to me and other slaves to ‘send a message’, but he doesn’t have the will to resist anymore… none of us do. I’m sorry,” she presses her head against her chest, curling up under the blanket.

“I understand,” I wrap my legs around her, and press her tighter against me, “All I need for now is your silence, okay?”

“Mhm. I won’t- ughh...” she suddenly rises up and looks around, “What’s that stench?”

I follow my nose to the wardrobe where we hid Karil’s corpse, and when I open it, a wave of acrid smell washes over me. As a changeling, I don’t particularly care, but Silvershine gags. The corpse relieved itself in the wardrobe, soiling the sheets and everything inside.

“We need to get rid of the body fast. This is risky,” I frown.

Silvershine rubs her chin, and then her expression brightens.

“We can roll him up in a carpet and then the sheets to cover the shape, and there are a bunch of stolen parfumes Karil had for his concubines. He loved playing out a fantasy of being some southern sheik. You can pretend it was a disobedient slave. It wouldn’t be the first one Karil choked to death.”

“Wouldn’t anyone notice that no slaves are missing?”

“The camp is fairly big, and most bandits will just be happy it wasn’t their slave who got killed. As long as only few bandits know somepony is dead, they shouldn’t pay too much attention or ask questions just in case Karil- you want a replacement.”

“I don’t have a better idea. Let’s-” 

A bandit rushes inside, gasping for breath.

“Chief! The new prisoners- one of them escaped!” he chokes out, and gives Silvershine using the soiled sheets to cover the rolled carpet with Karil’s body.

I turn around, scowling.

“That little whorse shouldn’t have been running her mouth. Get her stinking body out of my tent.”

“She was my friend-” Silvershine’s whine is cut short by my rough slap.

“Clean this trash or you’re next, burn it! I can get enough ponies to fuck as roughly as I want, I don’t need you, pinhead. You need to please me to live, remember that.”

Leading the bandit outside, I ask:

“Which one escaped?”

“The colt, chief!”

“Send a search party around the oasis, he can’t have gone far. But just in case, let’s have a little chat with the other two,” I grin.


***


“I said it before, but I think it bears repeating,” says Five after some twenty minutes of walking through the Promenade, “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Three times already...” mumbles Seven.

“I am making extensive notes on the afterlife,” comments Stompy, “I am quite curious that if I get here in the usual way, will I look like a machine, or like the dwarf I presumably used to be?”

“Wait, are you starting to remember something?” asks Seven.

“No, I have scoured my data repositories in detail. There is nothing to find. However, in the absence of any research materials related to artificial intelligence I’m currently assuming all advanced machines possess the minds of pre-project dwarves,” replies Stompy calmly. Of course, he normally replies in his measured way, but past experiences did prove he isn’t an emotionless machine unless he needs to be.

“I really wasn’t expecting this...” Five breathes out, turning her head.

“Aaaand four,” Seven facehoofs.

“It looks like the central square of Brauheim during market season,” Five shakes her head.

Having attended the annual event twice despite his numerous objections, Seven has to admit that it indeed does. Simply put, the Promenade is a grid of wide streets filled with stores selling anything, tall houses, and most of all - crowds of creatures of various shapes and sizes, not all equine or minotaur-oid. For some strange reason, no matter what the creatures are, they often just appear or disappear with a blur.

“Yep, only if some dwarf’s uncle was a zebra-snake pony,” adds Seven.

“Hey, that’s a flame spider pony!” Five waves at the strange creature with the torso, neck, and head of a pony as well as a bunch of spider legs instead of the good old four, “Some pony actually banged a flame spider!”

The creature blurs and disappears.

“What, getting ideas?” Seven frowns, “And I think it was just someone afflicted with a curse or something.”

“No no no, I just...” Five sighs, “Look, Seven, I serve my hive. I will protect my hive no matter what, that’s the reason for my existence, and I’m happy with it. It’s just that the longer I stay down there, the more I understand Gem and her desire to travel. Seeing this place and all the strange creatures which I know exist somewhere out there just reminded me how boring life in Brauheim is, aside from the occasional new weapon to test.”

“Five,” to the warrior’s surprise, Seven nuzzles her neck, “Just tell the boss, trust me. He’ll let you go wherever you want and will wish you safe travel too. Hole, you can take Six with you.”

Five takes a deep breath.

“Right. We need to find him first. What did the janitor say - Silent Circle? We should ask ar- no… oh holes please no...” Five’s jaw drops, “You said this was the place for the recently dead, did you?”

“What? What’s wrong- oh no...” Seven realizes what Five must have sensed.

“I’m not sensing any relevant threat,” says Stompy.

“TEN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” screams Five via two newly opened hive links, one clearly Ten’s, and one accessible through him but unknown to both Five and Seven.

“Oh by Celestia’s sweet ass,” Ten’s voice sounds as surprised as Five’s, “What are you two doing here? Wait, what’s going on in Bauheim? Don’t tell me the city and the hive got attacked too...”

“What do you mean by TOO?!” Five’s panic only grows as she picks up the pace, and starts wildly pushing through the crowd, “WHAT’S GOING ON IN CANTERLOT? WHERE IS THE BOSS?”

“Be quiet, Five!” the force behind Ten’s calming tone stops Five in her tracks, much to the curious stares of some of the closest creatures, “Think about me, and just keep walking. I’m in a changeling corner cafe.”

Faced with orders, Five takes a deep breath, and instead of blindly rushing around, she resumes walking at brisk pace. Her surroundings suddenly change, and in the corner of her eye she spots a corner cafe with a banner above the entrance looking like a black leg with holes on a green background. Inside, there’s the familiar face of Ten sitting across the table from a huge male changeling. Not a collossal one like Cryo, but one as tall as One and broader whose chitin is covered in scars and cracks, and one of his eyes is milky white with a long scar crossing it.

Seven and Stompy are nowhere to be found, which doesn’t bother Five at all as she rushes inside.

“Talk!” she slams her hoof against the table.

“Sit down, Five,” says Ten, “Time moves differently down here, and screaming my brain out won’t help anything. I sensed Seven as well, where is he?”

The sudden burst of breaking furniture heralds the materialization of Stompy atop an unlucky wooden table. Seven appears shortly after, sitting on the fourth chair around the round table.

“It wasn’t easy explaining the method of travel to Stompy, but I think I did a good job,” says Seven, “Now, before I get a heart attack - why are you here, Ten, who is the big guy, and what the hole is going on in Canterlot?”

Ten takes a deep breath, and drums his hoof on the table.

“Remember the attack on Cadance in the Crystal castle?” he asks, and when the other two changelings nod, he continues, “The same thing keeps happening in Canterlot. The targets are alicorns and similar creatures as far as I know. Boss got involved, by which I mean he stopped several of the attacks due to our resistance to the sleep spell which has been used every single time, but he was always found on the scene of crime for obvious reasons.”

“Ponies think boss did it?!” Five slams her hoof against the table again. She calms down a little when Ten shakes his head.

“The royals don’t, but commoners and diplomats assume the worst, since boss is the only new member of the summit. The worse part is that, and you wouldn’t know but I assume you heard stories, Star Trail seems to have joined the lich who is behind the attacks. I destroyed him with the help of Bright Star, but the lich… he got me,” Ten lowers his head, “That’s why I’m here, and that’s why I’m asking why the two of you and the damn MECH are here too! I didn’t know that souls dying with an unfinished burden meant toasters that burned out before the bread was done.”

“Very amusing,” comments Stompy, “and my sincerest condolences, Ten. Thankfully, none of us are dead, and Brauheim is in no danger. However, due to a magical mishap involving Seven, demon entities called the succubi dragged Six into Tartarus.”

“Come on, Seven,” Ten facehoofs, “You really need to trust yourself more. There are mares who would do a changeling in a heartbeat, even one as shy as you-”

“I summoned one for SIX!” Seven raises his voice, “Because someone who was supposed to be doing the exact opposite was just adding to his stress.”

“Let me remind you that you broke a rare dwarven digger that our entire hive would have to be working off for weeks or months,” says Five coldly, and looks straight at Ten, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter how we got to this point. When I sensed you, I thought someone was killing us in that Canterlot place and that the boss was on the run again. Now that we know the situation is… if not good than at least not catastrophic, we need to focus on getting Sex back- I mean Six, SIX.”

“Nice save,” Ten snickers, “Well, if you need one last service from the hive members beyond the grave, we are happy to help. Right, Nine?” Ten winks at the big changeling who has been silent all this time.

“I was worried you wouldn’t say that,” says Nine in a deep voice that must have made mares melt in their time. Five examines him, and identifies him as a warrior, and surprisingly one quite likely weaker than herself. However, from what she can sense, he is physically vastly stronger and tougher than she is, so the old changeling rule of power still applies - she can temporarily outclass him by burning love by a lot, but without love enhancements, Nine is physically way above her. Somewhat similar comparison is between One and Cryo. 

“Then we should get going. Time moves differently between Tartarus and the real world, but since Six is inside here, we’re still on a somewhat similar timescale. Any ideas where he could be?”

“Some demon janitor at the entrance told use we need to go through Silent Circle to find a portal to the lower circles,” says Five.

“Can’t we just teleport straight up to the succubi palace?” asks Seven, “I mean, the ‘thinking about place or an individual’ method of travel works well here.”

“Not if you don’t know what you’re targeting,” Ten shakes his head, “Silent Circle then… Nine?”

“Teleport on me,” he says simply, and disappears.

Nine’s guidance isn’t enough for Stompy, Seven, and Five, but Ten can easily get near him, and he’s a bright beacon for the other three.

When Five’s world stabilizes, she’s walking in heavy silence punctuated only by distant sounds of sobbing and wailing. The air deathly still, and everything around is grey - and everything means only apartment buildings with drawn curtains. There are no stores, no life like on the Promenade, nothing.

“This place creeps me out,” comments Seven quietly. Ten nods.

“Agreed. Funnily enough, it’s the safest place in all Tartarus. Souls burdened with immense amount of regret and pain they caused are here.”

“Wait,” Five suddenly furrows her brows, “How do you know so much, Ten? I mean, you can’t have been here for long, right? Boss left for Canterlot only few days ago.”

“As I said, time moves differently here,” Ten shakes his head, “And also, Celestia is the gatekeeper of Tartarus, so paladins have resources regarding the knowledge of this place. Unfortunately for you and Six, Promenade and the Silent Circle are about the only places I know. What about you, Nine?”

“Same,” rumbles the warrior, “Most demons and personal nightmares live in the lower circles. No reason to go there unless you’re looking for a scrap.”

“How do we find the portal the janitor talked about then?” asks Seven, “Do we have to ask around? I mean… can we even?”

“This level of Tartarus works for the souls. Silent Circle is a prison, but one possible to get into, just not back out if you are a prisoner, so I think that if we focus really hard and walk, we should eventually be able to find it… or be sent to it.”

“So, Nine… that’s a pretty high rank, right?” asks Five, eyeing the big changeling.

“It was my rank under the boss,” replies Nine, “It had no meaning regarding real power. Under Chrysalis, I was… I can’t even recall anymore, but no one special, just a random warrior. Miss One and miss Eight were the ranked members.”

“Comfort and One,” adds Ten by the way of explanation, “Eight is now One, since she kicked old One’s ass, and old One ascended to become a succubus.”

“Umm, if you don’t mind me asking this,” Nine raises the eyebrow over his working eye, “If you know a succubus, and it’s miss One on top of that, then why haven’t you asked her for help in getting you to Six?”

They all stop and look at one another.

One by one, they all facehoof. Yes, even Stompy.


***


“Three!”

“Yes, boss?”

“Some of the bandits saw you missing, and I’m coming to ‘interrogate you’. Play along.”

“Okay, boss!”

I grab the bars of transformed Three’s cage, and shake it. The griffon walking with me backs off, blinking. I must be stronger than Karil, but in this situation it will play right into my talons.

“Where did the colt go?” I growl at Three.

He points in a random direction.

“That way!”

“How did he get out?”

“I don’t know, it was dark-”

I rattle the cage again, cutting him off.

“DON’T LIE TO ME, PINHEAD!”

Three backs away.

“He was skinny enough, just needed to breathe out properly. Not my fault you can’t build a proper cage,” Three shrugs casually.

“Let me wring some proper info out of him, chief,” the bandit accompanying me cracks his talons.

Taking a loud and deep breath, I shake my head.

“No reason to lower his market value,” I say, “We’ll need all the money we can get with all the losses he and the griffon caused us. It’s not like the colt can get far through the desert without any gear. Grab few guys and check the area around the camp for tracks. AND I want someone stationed here at all times. I don’t want to lose these two as well, or I might have to find buyers for those responsible for this,” I hiss in his face.

I hear a sharp intake of breath signalling that my talking woke Cromach up. Let’s hope he doesn’t unwittingly ruin this. He looks around, and snarls:

“What did you do to the colt, swine?”

“Three, I need you to inform Cromach about what happened while he was unconscious, and tell him to stay put. You won’t have much time before your permanent guard arrives,” I inform Three.

“Will do, boss!”

“I was hoping you would tell me, big guy,” I smirk at Cromach, “So, where would a young colt like that run off?”

“If you did something to him, I’ll rip your head off once I don’t have as many holes as a chang- as one of those weird cheeses.”

“Save your threats for after we sell you. An arena fighter like you would fetch a proper sum. Oh, and don’t try anything. Who knows if I’m telling the truth about the colt escaping, right? Because if he didn’t, what you do might get him… punished,” I smile at Cromach who just glares daggers at me.

After that, I leave. Three will do his part. Now it’s up to me to figure out how to plan the next step. I wish I could just fight my way out, but Cromach won’t be in the best shape in time, and Three isn’t exactly bulletproof either.

As I enter my tent, Silvershine is already sitting patiently by the bed. In a moment of inspiration, I peek out and say:

“Get me the doc, now!”

The leaving bandit nods, and rushes off.

“Did you have the chance to inform Cromach, Three?” I ask internally while lying down on the bed. To my surprise, Silvershine begins massaging my paws on her own, “What?” I say out loud.

“Should I stop?” she asks while applying more expert pressure to my paw pads.

“Nnnnngh… nevermind, keep going. I just need some time to think. I can’t afford to stay here for too long.”

“Yep, he was a bit confused at first, but he got it quickly,” reports Three.

I hear the clearing of a throat from the outside, and doctor Razim enters, slightly out of breath.

“You called, chief?”

“Yes. What do you need to patch the griffon we captured up faster?” I ask.

“He’s recovering incredibly quickly already, but I didn’t have the time or assistance to clean his wounds properly, stitch him up, and get all the bullets out of him.”

“Can you do all of that before tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’m… not sure-”

“What I meant was - do it! I’m going to need a big guy like him in place of our lost griffons.”

“What makes you think he’ll cooperate? You know how much it took to take him down in the first place.”

“The colt escaped, but he doesn’t know if we caught him. I sent a group to search around the oasis. We’ll also hold the unicorn hostage. The griffon will either break few noses for us, or watch his friend or friends get flayed alive before we sell him.”

“Wait, so you don’t want to recruit him?”

“Oh no, we’ll just use him for stage one of the plan. You know what I’m talking about.”

“I thought we weren’t going to attack the town,” Razim blinks in surprise.

“Not from the front, no. We’ll scout the town out tomorrow afternoon first, and depending on what we find, we’ll strike from the inside. I’ll explain the details later. You do all you can to get the griffon into shape, grab the slaves or griffons to help. If there are complaints, tell them to deal with me, ” I point at the tent flaps.

“I understand,” Razim nods, and leaves.

Now… I’ll have to ask Cromach few things through Three, but this should be doable.

First, we get to the town as visitors, not too many of us, to “scout it out”. Cromach should have a way to contact some law enforcement in secret, since he’s some sort of secret bigwig. If not, we’ll figure things out on the fly. Razim was worried about not having enough griffons for the attack, which means the town must have some protection which likely can’t react quickly enough if the bandits just attack and flee. 

Step two, we come back here, gather everyone including the slaves to pretend we’re a travelling caravan. If my timing is right, we should arrive early in the morning. I tell the bandits to spread out, but the town guards should keep an eye on every single bandit, since there aren’t many of us. If there are too few guards, some militia might help. We’ll have to adjust this step depending on what we find during the scouting phase. I need the bandits spread out, because if the guards attacked us immediately after arrival, the bandits could use slaves as living shields, which is what I need to avoid.

Step three, everyone gets caught without too much bloodshed, slaves get freed, and Cromach, Three, and I can leave to find this Magnus guy.

“Silvershine?” I open my eyes as she continues her ministrations, now all over my hind thighs.

“Yes?”

“I need you to inform the slaves you can trust not to try to escape no matter what. I’ve got a plan.”

“That’s going to be easy,” she sighs, “Most of us got any hope beaten out a long time ago.”


***


“We’re being followed,” says Ten out of nowhere as the group keeps strolling through the Silent Circle.

Five reaches for her beard, Seven’s horn lights up, and Stompy agrees:

“For thirteen blocks now.”

The trip through the Silent Circle has been eventless until now, although the changelings were losing track of time spent here, which was something unthinkable to a species which normally didn’t need any external inputs to at least get the general idea. Even their love consumption seems to have slowed down to a crawl comparable to total hibernation despite all the walking.

“Didn’t you say this was the safest place?” asks Five.

“It is,” Ten shrugs, “I have no idea why anyone would stalk us. The prisoners here can’t harm us in any way, no matter how powerful they used to be before being sealed here.”

“Okay, then if the analytical infiltrators are stumped, it’s time for the brawn,” Five turns around and calls out openly, “GET OVER HERE, WHOEVER YOU ARE!”

“Five, no one in their right mind will-” Seven blinks when a grey, unicorn figure walks out from behind a corner, its head lowered but eyes haunted by misery locked on the changeling. Ten narrows his eyes while Nine openly growls. Five and Seven exchange glances when they realize the unicorn is wearing the same kind of paladin armor Ten is, only greyed out like the rest of him.

The unicorn stops in front of Nine, and starts crying.

“I had… I had a chance to see what you did… what I did… to all of you...” he mumbles between sobs.

“It is you...” Ten finally recalls why the unicorn was familiar, “You were with Star Trail in Las Pegasus! You-”

“-and Star Trail killed me,” Nine finishes slowly, and the unicorn’s weeping only grows louder as he nods.

“I know what happened to you,” says Ten, “I saw it through Comfort. Star Trail killed you in the end as well to have the power to fight her.”

“What do you want?” Nine scowls, “Forgiveness, or to finish the job?”

“Star Trail was branded a traitor by Celestia,” adds Ten, “As well as all paladins involved in hunting us since the beginning. Most who survived redeemed themselves eventually, but Star Trail never stopped trying. Right now, he’s been killed and reanimated into a flesh golem, helping some lich attack royalty as well as continue his mad ‘revenge’ against us. If you had at least a tenth of Bright Star’s courage, empathy, and integrity, he would have been stopped all those years ago.”

The paladin recoils as if punched, and takes several steps back.

“I… I just wanted to apologize...” he says, “I know it means nothing. I know it won’t change anything. I just... when I sensed you… I needed to see you, I needed to see if you being here was my fault. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for the murderous hatred I harbored for someone who… who did more good in few short years than I did in my long life.”

Nine closes his eyes, and breathes out:

“You can’t have known.”

“Huh?” the paladin looks up.

“What’s your name?” asks Nine.

“It doesn’t matter here anymore, but it used to be Resolute.”

“You can’t have known about us, Resolute. At least not at first,” Nine’s breathing is heavy, as if each word was an old wound being opened again, “You only saw how we had to act to survive, you only saw us during the invasion, you only heard about us when a remote village disappeared. At first, you can’t have known that our boss will do his best to break the cycle of hunting and hatred. We can’t have known.”

“I would do anything to turn back the clock and be a louder voice of reason, a more resolute one...” the paladin looks down at the ground.

“I won’t forgive you,” says Ten firmly.

“I understand,” Resolute nods.

“Let me finish!” growls Ten, “I won’t forgive you for Las Pegasus. What happened in the Castle of Two Sisters was enough to have sown doubt into Bright Star who saw Star Trail’s insanity, and that was your chance to prove you were a decent equine being. But I do forgive you for everything before that. Nine is right, you can’t have known what the invasion and one silly drone left behind would lead to. Hole, I was the monster who infiltrated Canterlot and opened the safehouses for changelings. We all have our burdens to bear. What happened, happened. All we can do is prove we’re better than we used to be. You’ve been here for a long time, I suppose. Do you know how to get to the lower circles of Tartarus?”

Resolute nods, color slowly returning to his gold and white armor, if not to him. 

“I will get you there,” he says, and disappears.

A moment later, so does everyone else. When Five opens her eyes, she finds herself and the others standing around a hexagonal hole that makes her eyes water. The dimensions inside it are all wrong. She can see mountains, red rivers, and a whole world in it, but it moves as if she was circling around a mirror. 

“I can’t go with you,” says Resolute, growing see-through with each passing second, “I thought my penance wasn’t done yet, but… but...”

“As a paladin, I relieve you of your duty, Resolute,” says Ten, saluting, “You can rest now.”

“Thank you… thank y-” he fades along with his voice.

Five remains quiet, sensing full well that this isn’t her internal fight. Even Seven seems to understand the gravity of the situation.

“Let’s go,” says Nine after a moment of silence, looking at Ten, “He fulfilled his final duty. It’s up to us to fulfill ours.”

One by one, they all jump into the gateway.


***


Hoooo, boy. This is different.

Cromach, I, Crusher, and Ripper are sitting in a rather lively tavern near the south border of Whistling Sands, which is the name of the town the bandits wanted to plunder. The fact that I managed to get this far without actually knowing the name or the plan shows how little they doubt Karil’s leadership, or more likely his brutality.

This is phase one of the plan - scouting. The real purpose of our visit, however, is currently walking towards us, and it’s the bartender.

“What’ll it be, esteemed guests?” asks the griffon with a polite smile. From what I understand, Whistling Sands is the last southern town before long trek through the desert for any caravan from the core of the Griffon Empire wishing to do some trading with the semi-independent states of the deep south. As such, the small town is flourishing, surprisingly rich, and thus completely understandable bandit target.

Which is also why there’s A DAMN FORTRESS a short distance away from the town. According to Cromach, more important towns and border checkpoints are always guarded by a fortress containing from fifty to two hundred Griffon Imperial Legion soldiers, enough supplies to last a siege, and space to host the whole town of civilians if need arises.

What I also got out of him before the trip when I told him my plan was that important places like these always have at least one Intelligence Service or Black Ops agent stationed there, generally keeping track of what’s going on. The most obvious place for there to be one is the big tavern slowly filling with guests staying here before continuing their trips tomorrow.

“What’s the strongest liquor you got?” I ask. Ammo, always think of ammo.

“I’ve got few bottles of Alpacistani imported grain whiskey. It’ll strip the scales off of a dragon,” replies the bartender, and looks at Stomper and Flayer, or whatever those two idiots are called, “And you?”

“Beer,” says Cruncher, and Spinebreaker just nods.

“Two beers, got it,” the bartender smiles at Cromach, “And for you, sir?”

“Got a bottle of Emperor’s Talon?” he asks.

I’m a changeling, so I can see that while the bartender’s smile remains on his beak, the rest of his face suddenly feels somewhat detached from it.

“I’m sorry, sir, we’re fresh out. I’ve got a friend in the north who can get you some if you’re willing to wait.”

“Nah, unless you can ask all your suppliers to get it here by tomorrow, then no,” Cromach waves his foreleg, “I can’t stay here for long. Business awaits. Though if you can get a bottle here for the next time I pass by, I wouldn’t mind,” he snaps his talons, “I’m such a scatterbrain, my drink… my drink… I’ll just have a beer then,” he waves his foreleg.

The bartender leaves, and quickly comes back with coasters and filled glasses. For some reason, the coaster under my sizzling shot glass is made of steel. When he’s out of earshot, I tap the table.

“Alright, listen and observe,” I order the highly intellectual duo of Diarrhea and Exploder, “We need to figure out how many guys we can grab. The others are scouting the city as planned, but we need to understand the flow of the place. Got it?”

The two big griffons nod, sipping their beers.

I down my shot glass in one go.

Everyone’s beaks drop. Even Cromach’s shock is genuine, which makes me smirk.

“Hmm, not bad,” I blink several times, and thank my still changeling insides.

Cromach stands up, which makes Annihilator and Talonbreaker reach for their pistols.

“Just gonna go to the bathroom, guys,” says Cromach defensively.

“We’re coming too,” says Big-but-dumb-number-one.

“Yeah, it’s all the beer,” the other big guy rises up too, looking at his barely touched drink.

They walk off. I hope Cromach understands the importance of not beating the everliving hole out of them, at least for now. I’m not sure he’d be able to do it in his current state despite the obviously amazing job doctor Razim did on him, but even if he got them both, it would still leave Three back in the bandit camp as well as all the slaves.

Yes, I could have taken Three with us. Yes, we could have just fought our way out in this situation…

...but then there would be no one to help Silvershine and the other slaves, and the oasis bandits would still be a threat. I might not be the boss here, but I would be a pretty crappy changeling if I thought only of myself and just left. Besides, it would gain us few hours at best.

And so, when Cromach accompanied by Dumb and Dumber come back, we just wait and listen.


***


Five quickly comes to the conclusion that once this “adventure” is over, she’s never using any kind of teleporter ever again. Unless ordered to do so for the good of the hive, obviously.

She finds herself standing on a balcony with her back to the vast expanse of… rather normal landscape, actually. Mountains in the distance, shrubs and brownish-green grassland everywhere. All in all, a rather plesant sight, or it would be if everything didn’t look so… blurry. That’s what she can see through the hive connection with everyone. However, her mental warning is enough for everyone appearing along with her not to move a muscle.

The reason for her freezing are two bipedal figures who could pass for minotaurs, only smaller, hairless, and rather smelly. In their hands, they’re holding long, metallic tubes which someone like Five can easily identify to be some sort of a gun. They don’t seem to have noticed the group’s arrival out of nowhere.

“Let’s back off a bit,” orders Five. To Stompy, she whispers, “Don’t move.”

The changelings silently skitter behind the wall of the long balcony, out of sight. They aren’t stupid enough to argue with a warrior in a potential combat situation. 

“What’s that?” asks Nine mentally while pointing at a device lying at the end of the balcony. It looks like a box with a jagged blade sticking out of it. Ten and Five easily recognize the device, even though not this particular design.

“A chainsaw,” says Ten, “This one seems to be made for the use by hands, claws, or talons. Very similar to what the griffons use.”

“Oh, really?” Nine smirks, and with a quiet ‘whoosh’ he transforms into a strange draconic visage only Ten knows - a black hybrid of a dragon and a pony, overall pony-like but with thicker tail, and dragon scales covering his legs, spine, top of his muzzle, and chest for protection. The most importantly, though, it gives him claws with which he grabs the chainsaw.

He presses a button on the side, and the chainsaw roars.

Two loud grunts come in reply.

“Enemy activity!” says Stompy loud enough for the group to hear.

Two electronic whistles later, the changelings rush over to the mech who stands there, overlooking two headless corpses.

“It seems the enemy offensive capabilities are on par with ours. However, their durability seems lacking,” reports Stompy.

“Let’s go then. I’m going in first,” orders Five while entering a square room with no apparent reason for existence.

“No, let me,” says Nine calmly, “I’m the sturdiest one here. Plus, you know, dead already.”

Unfortunately, Stompy’s presence is making it impossible to sneak anywhere, and he already barely fits through the hallway leading out of the room. On the following T-section, they go left, and reach another square room with four large pillars from behind which two more figures immediately peek out, aiming their long-barrell guns at the group.

A bullet whizzes past Nine, immediately answered by a shot from Five blasting the creautre’s brain out. The shot from the second enemy bounces off of Nine’s chest scales, upon which Stompy’s laser burns the head off of the enemy as well, quickly revealing how the original two died. This time, Five examines the cold corpses and, more importantly, the weapons.

“Weird, these use standard pistol bullets,” she unloads the weapons, and shoves the bullets into her beard, “Long barrels like this usually hint to rifles.”

“Does it mean anything for us?” asks Ten.

“That they will be fairly accurate, but also that there’s no way they’re even scratching Stompy or probably us if we harden our armors a little. Aaand more ammo for me,” Five shrugs, “Does anyone see anything useful? No? Then let’s move.”

Since there’s no other route of the room, the group head back, and take the other side of the T-section. Another room awaits them, a long one with a window overlooking the strange, blurry landscape. The important part, though, is a brown, bipedal creature with red eyes, sharp teeth, and covered in spikes. It doesn’t look armed at first...

...until it throws a ball of pure fire out of nowhere.

The projectile is fairly slow, fortunately, giving the quick changelings plenty of time to get out of the way. Stompy immediately answers the attack with a laser beam as the creature is already charging at the group. It growls as the laser hits its head, but doesn’t seem particularly fazed. Its bull rush ahead ends with Nine, literally, as the changeling stands up, revvs his chainsaw, and grinds through the enemy in a shower of gore.

“Scary,” comments Nine flatly, flicking his weapon to get the blood off.

“This enemy’s skin seems resistant to heat-based weapons,” Stompy scans the brown creature, “Assigning designation - imp.”

“Well, I can’t see Six anywhere, and there isn’t any way to go,” says Seven, examining the brown walls until he stop in front of a black and grey section which slides into the rest of the wall, revealing a small, metallic grey room with a red button marked “EXIT”, “Umm, this seems too obvious to me.”

Ten looks out of the window, and frowns.

“I don’t think flying out there is a good idea. Besides, didn’t the janitor say we needed to go through this to some citadel? Through being the key word.”

“Get in,” orders Five.

Thankfully, the grey room is big enough for all of them, and when Seven pushes the red button, everything blurs. 


***

Phase two of the plan is a go.

Despite its size, Whistling Sands has a proper caravan parking section, which means that the bandit wagons usually used for transporting slaves to southern states we took have a place to fit along with every single slave from the camp. The plan is to pose as a big caravan with slaves as servants, which is working out alright, thanks to Silvershine spreading the word. The bandits, of course, think that all the slaves had their will beaten out of them a long time ago, which is actually true to a high degree.

So, thanks to our scouting the evening earlier, the bandits know where they can capture targets the fastest, so aside from Ripper and Crusher keeping an eye on the exits of the wagons, there’s no one around. I just hope Cromach’s message got through. Silvershine is rubbing Crusher’s shoulders, and the other slaves are keeping a campfire going near the wagons, and cooking us breakfast.

“Hey, boss!” Three’s sitting in a cage inside next to Cromach’s, “The big meany is getting nervous.”

I walk over to Ripper sitting on the ramp leading to the other wagon, and ask:

“Anything wrong?”

“We’re being watched,” he growls.

“Guards, or just someone curious?”

“Armed griffons,” he taps the rifle on his back.

“I see...” I mumble, “Any reports from the guys around the town?”

“No,” he shakes his head, and nods to a smoking griffon in an alley nearby, who is one of our sentries.

The bandits spread out in a spiderweb pattern around the city in order to pass information quickly to us if needed, and if each one nabs a griffon whom they’ll bring inside the wagons, they’ll get twenty-ish slaves easily and quickly, upon which we should leave. Kinda like dragging a net to one central spot.

That’s the official plan anyway.

The unofficial part is that by now every single bandit should be trailed by griffon soldiers, and there should be enough griffons keeping an eye on our caravan.

The clock on the tower marking the caravan parking plaza strikes ten, meaning most griffons are at work, and that the streets are mostly empty. The bandits should be grabbing the found targets, and in the end we should raid the two caravans currently resting here as well if we have the place.

“Alright, servants!” I snap my talons, and the nearest slaves look at me, “Get us ready to leave. Ripper, harness them.”

I walk over to Crusher enjoying Silvershine’s attention, and say:

“Get ready, our guys will be here soon.”

He nods.

Five minutes pass, then ten, and then fifteen.

“Hey, where’s Hanson?” asks Crusher, turning his head around as he realizes the sentry standing in the alley isn’t there anymore, “I don’t like this.”

“They might just be taking side-alleys to avoid suspicion-”

Crusher immediately grabs Silvershine by the neck, and twists her in front of him as a live shield.

“Get inside, chief!” he hisses, and I quickly get in the wagon.

“YOU’RE SURROUNDED! LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS IMMEDIATELY!” calls out a voice over a loudspeaker right before some thirty griffon soldiers rush out of the wagons of the other two caravans, from the alleys, and from the roofs of the surrounding buildings, all aiming unhealthy amount of firepower at us.

“I knew something was wrong,” Crusher growls and raises his voice, “DON’T MOVE OR I’LL BLOW HER HEAD OFF, AND EXECUTE THE OTHERS INSIDE!” he grabs a pistol from his belt and puts it to Silvershine’s head.

A blade of green fire at the edge of his vision makes him realize that his armed foreleg suddenly isn’t attached to him anymore. He turns his head, and the last thing he sees is my love blade cleaving his head in half.

I transform back into a changeling as Silvershine covered in blood screams, jumping behind me. A second later, Ripper flies out of the other wagon, neck bent in an angle incompatible with life. Cromach walks out with changeling Three on his back whose runes are blinking brightly, alternating between red and blue.

“I’m the deep hole of the law!” proclaims Three loudly as four soldiers surround him, “Wee woo wee woo wee woo!”

Police colors Three aside, I don’t move when the Legion soldiers led by a griffon wearing nothing but a black jacket scour the caravan. The griffon exchanges few words with Cromach who points at me, and approaches.

“Well, your Beardedness,” Cromach bows, “The Legion soldiers caught everyone, and saved quite a few griffons. I must admit - well done!”

“Agent Silas,” the black-jacketed griffon salutes to me, “Griffon Empire Intelligence Service, your Majesty. I’m in charge of the operation, and also here to escort you and agent Cromach to the Holy City.”

“Thank you very much, agent. I’m glad no one got hurt,” I look down at the brutalized Crusher, “No one important who wouldn’t deserve it, I mean.”

“We serve the Empire, your Majesty. First things first, though. Agent Cromach said it was important for all slaves to be rounded up and delivered where they wanted.”

“Yes, it is,” I look down at Silvershine now sitting on the ground, smiling like an idiot. I pat her head, “Hey, these guys will take you home. Anywhere, right?” I end up looking at Silas again.

“We deliver all the way to Equestria,” he salutes with a smirk this time, and gasps for breath as Silvershine hugs him.

“You know,” Cromach smiles, “It did took a little longer, but I admit your plan brought a bit more joy into this world than mine would. Alas, we don’t have time for goodbyes,” he glances at Silas, “Agent, is the transport ready?”

“Follow me,” he nods. Before we can move, though, Silvershine hugs me this time.

“I never even asked your name. I need to know whom I’ll be thanking for the rest of my life,” she blubbers, half-crying.

“I’m no one special, Silvershine,” I say, “My hive just calls me the boss.”

“I’ll never forget you, boss.”

“I was happy to help,” I pat her head and slowly push her away, “but I have to go. Cromach, Three, and I are on an important mission for Equestria, and we’re already far behind schedule. Goodbye, Silvershine.”

“Goodbye, my lucky charm.”

I chuckle, and follow Cromach. Three jumps onto my back, flashing red and blue non-stop.

“So, how long does it take by train to the Holy City?” I ask.

“A week or so,” shrugs Cromach.

I sigh.

“I guess we’ll be too late for anything anyway then...” shaking my head, I add, “I suppose I really don’t have a choice but to trust One and everyone that they’ll be okay.”

“Eeeeh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Cromach chuckles, and takes into the air with a powerful jump, following Silas flying upwards to the empty sky.

Empty sky that is humming for some reason…

As Silas gets higher, the air ahead shifts and wobbles. As if I rubbed my eyes and saw something coming out of my blurry vision, a black, smooth, triangular airship reveals itself, two griffons saluting as Silas and Cromach land on the deck followed by myself.

“What is this?” I ask, wide-eyed. Cloaking technology, and a silent airship? This is on the level of dwarf tech, and by that I mean the top end of dwarf tech.

“Welcome to the Nighthawk, your Majesty,” Silas bows, “Don’t worry, we’ll have you in the Holy City by lunchtime tomorrow.”  

“Yeah, I’d get inside if I were you,” adds Cromach, quickly finding a trap door in the metal floor, and descending a short step of stairs down, “These things aren’t comfortable by any measure, but they are fast!”

As soon as I follow Cromach down, Silas flies off, presumably to take care of the slave situation. The griffons behind us close the trap door to the deck, and I feel growing pressure mounting on my body.

“Hold on to something,” says Cromach, “until we stabilize.”

I sit down, grab a bar on the wall with one foreleg, and Three with the other. The pressure mounts, making me grit my teeth.

My ears pop, and the whole ship rumbles.

The motion smooths out, and the pressure on me disappears. Carefully, I stand up, and realize I can walk normally.

“Your Majesty, agent Cromach,” a griffon left with us speaks up, “Let me take you to the guest quarters.”

A short trip through the narrow corridors where I have to walk with my head down to fit later, the leading griffon opens a metal door to a marginally larger room which could comfortably fit at most four griffons on soft, low, brown, padded couches. There’s a table screwed to the floor in the middle of the room as well. Cromach immediately lies down on his back, and closes his eyes.

“So, step one done,” he says, “Now to see what we can do about the primal alicorn of Magic...” he breathes out, “I’m going to need a vacation after this.”

“You seem pretty calm about this,” I comment, lying down as well. Three curls up on my chest, I hug him, and quickly feel his revitalizing love flow through me. I don’t need to feed from him directly, his ambient “love for everything” is more than enough, “I’m barely stopping myself from freaking out from all this responsibility. I have enough on my plate with my hive as is, and the possibility of the fate of Equestria resting on my back is a bit too much. Plus, we’re on the way to a powerful alicorn. Honestly, I’m jealous that you’re taking it so well.”

“Heh,” Cromach chuckles, “I was thinking something along those lines myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way you tried to save the slaves...” he sighs, “I wouldn’t have bothered. I know I would be in the wrong, but I wouldn’t have bothered. You just made me think of the times when I still cared, that’s all...”

“Cared about someone else’s life?” 

“Cared about… anything, really. These days, I’m just going through the motions. A problem shows itself, I rush in or send Connie’s team to deal with it as effectively as possible. Collateral damage is irrelevant if the threat is stopped.”

“That’s mean,” mumbles Three.

“Yes, it is,” Cromach admits, “But I don’t know how big the margin of error is if the world is to survive. Blaze knew… I don’t...”

“What do you mean by the world surviving?” I ask. That sounds important, obviously.

“You heard Kronos,” Cromach shrugs, “I knew some of what he talked about already. I know who the real big enemies are, and kindness, compassion, or any other weaknesses are something they can easily exploit. The thing is… that I can’t bring myself to care.”

“Come on, I wasn’t supposed to be any big hero either, and I got wrapped in some apocalyptic stuff as well. I told you bits about my hive and Scream back in the bar. If I could, I would just stay underground with my family, but I had to attend the damn summit, and I’m here now, far away from them, still trying to do this in case it might help them or put them out of harm’s way.”

“That’s the thing, boss,” Cromach covers his face with his talons, “You have someone to personally care for. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy working with the guys under me. Astray reminds me of Blaze, and I love how much he’s grown over time. Bubbles is sort of like your Three, a fountain of joy and happiness-”

“Yep, she is awesome!” Three agrees.

“Anvil is hella wiser than she lets on,” Cromach continues, “but they are each other’s reason to keep going in some cases, not mine. I… I think it’s possible Blaze might return to me despite everything, but with each day… I’m losing hope. Will I even survive until he’s back? Will I see him only when I’m an old, senile bird, not even able to recognize him? Connie tries to keep me involved, but I’m just going through the motions, I don’t care, not genuinely care enough to help past solving the main problem. If I could, I would just sit in some forest shack, and sleep until I was overgrown with moss.”

“And yet, you’re here, working for everyone anyway. Those griffon guys out there acted as if you were their Emperor himself or something, and the alicorns back home respect you as well. You must be doing something right.”

“Well, that’s Connie’s doing, I think. She’s the dutiful, yet unbelievably perverted secretary type who can also crush a mountain with her mind. If she wasn’t kicking my ass to move me forward, I’d still be drinking myself to sleep every morning.”

“You mean night, right? We changelings don’t exactly do alcohol, but I think you pass out late at night, or no?”

“I usually opted for a head start,” Cromach snickers, “Or something like that… those days blend a lot.”

“Look, I’m doing this for my family, but One is the one who keeps driving me forward. I guess that behind everyone forced into leadership is a loving mare poking them with a sharp stick.”

“And we just can’t disappoint them, can we?” Cromach sighs.

“It’s hard to look at the disappointed face of someone whom you love and who genuinely believes in you with all their heart, isn’t it?” I hug Three tigher. He squeaks, and wraps his forelegs around my neck.

“Oooh yes...” he breathes out, “For years, I guess I was someone like that for Blaze too.”

I get a very very ubelievably exceedingly dumb idea.

You see, when a changeling is a really good infiltrator, they don’t need to bite their victims to affect them with their mental skills, but also to get into their unprotected heads.


***


There are skulls everywhere. Dozens of huge cages line the walls, and in those cages float bleached skulls with manes of burning flames. The skulls hiss continuously, or scream and bite the bars when Five gets too close. On the other hole, it looks like they can’t get out, so neither the changelings nor Stompy have decided to start shooting… yet.

That, of course, counts only for the current floor of the strangely technological dungeon they’re in. The sewer tunnels earlier were filled with zombies and imps who were met with full force of the frustrated changelings and one rather bored robot. It did serve to relieve some tension, though.

“Big guy incoming!” says Seven, his horn glowing with scrying magic.

“This one is mine,” Ten immediately flourishes the Sword of the First Emperor burning with golden fire which he borrowed from Five just for this occasion.

A huge zombie twice the build of the common one walks from behind a corner with an already spinning minigun. The hail of bullets hits Ten’s magical barrier spreading from the sword, evaporating the projectiles. Ten slashes the air, the swing releasing a shockwave of flames that incinerates the big zombie instantly. Only few charred bits and pieces remain smoldering on the floor.

“Overkill,” comments Five.

“After what Star Trail and that lich did to me, I really wanted to ruin some undead’s day. Too bad these guys are too brainless to understand what’s happening,” Ten shrugs.

“You could have left the gun...” grumbles Five, “It looked big, loud, and shooty.”

“Judging by our recent experiences, you’ll get several hundred opportunities to grab one in the near future,” Ten shrugs.

The long hallway filled with cages ends in a rounded inside plaza with a multi-tiered fountain of blood in its center, a huge, menacing, black gate ahead, and two more corridors leading away. Around the fountain circles a sole screaming, or grumbling, skull. Well, to be completely accurate - the first quiet skull. That ends when it notices the incoming group, and starts laughing.

“Well well well, what have we here? Unwelcome visit- whoah!” it quickly darts to the side to avoid Five’s gunshot, “Now let’s just calm down for a second-”

“This looks important,” Five points at the door, “Does this lead down to the succubi palace thing?”

“Yes, but you have to solve a riddle before you’re allowed to-”

“Stompy, is the gate the same nonsense as the Tartarus entrance?” Five turns her head to the mech.

“DON’T IGNORE ME!” yells the skull, “You have to correctly answer this riddle-”

“No, this gate seems vulnerable, although we do not possess the required amount of explosives,” reports Stompy.

“Alright, that’s it!” the flying skull somehow manages to scowl, “PINKY!”

Twenty panels around the circumference of the room open, and something like huge, pink, muscular bulls with teeth charge inside from a web of narrow hallways revealed by the trap.

Five immediately pulls a shotgun out of her beard, and blasts the nearest one.

“Finally, something wide enough to eat the spread.”

She backs away as the creature doesn’t explode in a shower of gore, unlike anything encountered before. It takes the shot like a champ, only backing away while growling and gnashing its teeth.

Stompy’s laser decapitates one, but it’s only one of tens swaming into the room.

“Seven, I’m gonna borrow your head for a second,” yells Ten.

Seven knows his job, and this is why he hasn’t bothered to use his magic ever since they entered Tartarus. He connects to Ten, his horn flares, and intricate magic starts draining into the floor, drawing a complex magical circle spreading away from the group on its own.

A pinky lunges at Nine who grabs its jaws, and starts pulling away. The pinky doesn’t seem able to use its forelegs for anything other than moving around, and its mouth slowly opens under the pressure of Nine’s bulging muscles, and-

*Crack!*

-both jaws cracks, ripped off by the powerful warrior, and leaving only a hole to the pinky’s neck, through which Nine rams his claws with ease.

Ten’s borrowed sword burning with holy flames is the most effective weapon, hacking pinkys into bits with ease, but there’s just too many of them. The pressure of bodies on its own is enough to keep the changelings backing off even despite Nine starting his chainsaw and ruining pink demon after pink demon.

Some twenty or thirty dead demons are staiing the floor, slowing the progress of others, when Seven’s spell finally opens a green gate into what looks like a… bakery?

“Hey, these guys want to hurt Three’ friends,” Ten calls out.

The pinkys stop, and look as one at the pink earthpony mare with poofy mane who jumps through.

And another, and another, and another...

“THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE!” screams Pinkie Pie, aiming her party cannon at the grouped up demons.

“DOESN’T MATTER HOW MANY OF THE ONE THERE ARE!” another Pinkie with her own cannon agrees.

Seven throws up a protective barrier of his own will now, and then everything outside of the bubble turns to frosting.

Soon, things go deathly quiet.

Seven makes the protective bubble disappear, and all the white frosting caught on it drops on the floor.

“This situation does not seem physically possible,” comments Stompy.

First, the pink ponies are nowhere to be found. Second, the blood fountain is now producing liquid chocolate. Third, the pinkys are all smeared on the floor and walls, mixed with cake batter and confetti. Fourth, the riddling skull is stock still in the air, its jaw dropped.

“Is this enough of an answer for you?” asks Five.

“What?” the skull recovers from tis stupor, “No, I can’t open unless-”

It explodes.

“Then the answer is shotgun,” scowls Five, and kicks the nearest corpse in her way, “Let’s go find another route or some explosives.”


***


“I have no doubt that you were,” I say in a new, slightly higher voice.

Cromach sits up instantly, and glares at me.

“Beard, drop that,” he says. On the surface, he sounds controlled, but as a changeling I know I’m one wrong word away from unpleasantness.

“Humor me here, Cromach, please,” I tilt my head. Three hops off of me, and starts poking my wings.

“Woooooow… these look a lot more awesome than ours! They’re like… on fire! Do they burn, boss?”

“Shhh, Three. Not now,” I wrap the strange pink and gold wing around him. It doesn’t look as if it fits to the bronze-colored, blond unicorn- alicorn technically the image of whom was so openly on Cromach’s mind that I didn’t need too much focus to recreate it.

“Alright, in the spirit of diplomatic relations, I’ll give you a chance,” says Cromach, his breathing quickening, “What are you doing?” 

“Honestly,” I shrug, “I’m not sure myself, but… from everything I heard… I think you might have something to get off of your chest. I’m willing to listen,” I grab unresisting Three, and toss him to Cromach, “Take him. It might help. Don’t ask me how he works.”

Without a word, Three curls up in Cromach’s lap. Not taking his eyes off of me, Cromach wraps his wings around Three. After few seconds, though, he closes his eyes, and hangs his head low.

“I’m sorry...” he beathes out.

I’m not sure whether he’s talking to me or to the pony I’m now disguised as. On the other hole, it doesn’t really matter.

“I forgive you,” I say softly, “But I feel you’re hurting yourself more than anything bad I could say would, even if I wanted to.”

Cromach’s eyes are still closed, maybe to forget where he is and to persuade himself that this is even remotely real.

“I know that. I know you would be the first one to say that I should move on, or that I shouldn’t let waiting for your return stop me from living, but that’s exactly the problem! How can I betray someone who feels like that about me? Someone who would never be jealous as long as I was happy. Someone who was fine believing he was a placeholder until I could find someone better. There never was anyone better, and never will be. When Harmony tore you away from me, his damn tentacles ripped my heart out with you.”

“Why do you think you’re betraying me?” I ask, “You’re torturing yourself thinking about me. I would never want that to happen.”

“Because of Connie...” he chuckles, “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I love her, but we… fit. I enjoy spending time with her, I enjoy her sarcasm and borderline craziness, I enjoy her not taking us for granted… and when I think about it, the things I like about her are exactly what I loved about you. Of course, she doesn’t have a dick, but you should see her chest of toys in Manehattan. A changeling couldn’t come up with some of her weirder stuff.”

“I’m glad that you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” I hazard a guess. I have no clue how Cromach was before his crippling loss.

“Just a way of masking trouble and lack of confidence, as usual,” he breathes out.

“Of course not.”

“Can’t fool you,” he shakes his head, “You could always see through me right away, and so does Connie. That’s the thing. The more I open myself to her, the more afraid I am that she’ll… that she’ll...”

“Surpass me?” I tilt my head.

“No!” Cromach looks up at me, eyes wide, and waves his forelegs, “I mean- I mean- no- no one can surpass what we had- no… I’m afraid that if she fills the gaping hole in my heart then I will forget you. Not completely, of course… but enough...”

“I want you to be happy. Or at least, I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

“You aren’t hurting me, you could never hurt me.”

“Come on. You can lie to yourself, but don’t lie to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out immediately.

“I believe in you,” I choose my words carefully, because I don’t know enough details to make an accurate judgement, “If I showed you what you truly love in someone, then I want you to use it, not be afraid of it. Hay, if I ever come back, I want you to have some experience, right? You know, practice makes perfect and so on.”

To my surprise, Cromach smiles. No smirk, no sarcastic chuckle, an actual, genuine smile.

“I suppose you’re right. You usually are. I still don’t want to forget you, though.”

“Maybe you have to, at least for a while. Maybe you need some time to lick your wounds, to heal, to lick Connie,” I snicker, “And afterwards, if you don’t know where to go next, then you can think of me. Besides,” I wave my foreleg, “I won’t be too special if you think about me all the time, will I?”

“You’re an idiot,” he breathes out, “and I love you for it.”

“I love y-”

“No,” Cromach stops me sharply, his green eyes glowing from the inside, “That is something even you can’t fake. Maybe for normal ponies, but not for me.”

“He loved you with all his heart, I know that,” I correct myself, transforming back into a changeling, “I can feel it from you even now.”

“He was the alicorn of Hope. He brought hope to everyone around him and died saving everyone everywhere. Yet, he needed me and few others to prove that there was hope for him as well. He doesn’t deserve to be forgotten.”

“He deserves a lover who is happy.”

“Yeah yeah. Stop laying it on so thick,” he lies down on his back, grabs Three by his barrel, and raises him up. Three reaches down and boops Cromach, “I guess I’ll admit this helped a bit, but don’t think of ever using Blaze’s visage again.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” I reassure him, lying down as well. Few minutes of slow breathing later, I open a new topic, “So, this Connie of yours… she sounds a little like my One.”

“Rough, perverted, steers you the right way most of the time, but needs the occasional spanking if she goes too far?”
 
“Alright, that’s uncanny,” I snort, “Next you’re going to tell me she’s your secretary, she’s not too good at the big political stuff but she tries to manage it for you, she’s a great warrior, and would level a city if somone in it looked at you funny.”

“Spoooookyyyyy,” Cromach laughs, and tosses Three in a low arc back to me.

“Wheeee!” guess who adds his two bits to the conversation.


***


“I don’t like this...” Five carefully peeks behind a corner of the complex of corridors under the Citadel.

Some time earlier, they did manage to find an access tunnel which led broadly into the direction of the heavily fortified Citadel with the hope of finding some drainage through which they could slip inside. Unfortunately, while there were numerous tiny pipes through which a changeling could usually fit, the group decided unanimously against leaving Stompy behind, and the toxic waste flowing from the drains was pretty dangerous to a transformed changeling anyway. Of course, in their normal shape, the reinforced chitin and Stompy’s chassis were more than enough protection to let the group wade through sometimes knee-high sludge.

Their current problem, though, is that ever since entering the presumed Citadel sewers, the group haven’t found any enemies… or any enemies in one piece, to be exact. 

With utmost care in case that this is another elaborate trap, Five steps over a partially melted machine gunner sticking out of the flowing waste without bothering to unload his gun, since she’s worried that her beard of holding might be reaching its capacity. At least it’s getting strangely warm.

Five shakes her head, and repeats the question she’s been asking herself since entering the sewers.

Why is this place filled with dead demons? A turf war or something? The various kinds of demons did attack each other if provoked. Five tested that theory several levels ago when she scouted ahead while invisible, and then tossed a barrel of something explosive at an imp from behind, upon which the brown biped started tearing into the group of zombies previously standing guard behind it.

And that’s the thing - the demons in the lower circles just stood still until they sensed danger, which usually meant ‘heard Stompy’. Thankfully, firepower has been something that proved very easy to replenish.

Five’s warrior ears perk up. She hears something she hasn’t heard before in this place.

It’s… it’s… the clicking of bones?

“Stay here,” she whispers, “but be ready to assist me.”

Unfortunately, the shapeshifting needed to go invisible doesn’t allow for reinforcements needed to walk safely through the toxic slime, so Five darts ahead, timing her steps with the natural bubbling and splashing of the sludge. Soon, the sewer tunnels open into a central room with many tunnels branching out of it, and a raised central platform where a big, armored quadrupedal figure has just dodged two rockets shooting out of twin shoulder-mounted rocket launchers of a bipedal skeleton twice the figure’s height.

Five freezes, her eyes going wide.

“That’s not possible...” her jaw drops as well.
 
The big… griffon wearing the tangled and charred remains of a power armor jumps behind the skeleton, punches the back of its knee which makes the skeleton kneel. The two rockets turn mid-air, aiming back at the griffon who simply grabs the skeleton’s skull, tears it off, and throws it at one rocket while kicking the rest of the body against the other.

The skeleton’s rockets obliterate their previous owner, and the griffon stands up on all fours, looking around.

“Oh fuck no...” whispers Five, taking a step backwards.

That proves to be a huge mistake, as moving against the flow of the sludge results in a rather loud splash. But hey, Five isn’t an infiltrator.

The griffon immediately looks her way, and bolts.

WHY IS HE SO FAST?!

Five is galloping back to the rest of the group, listening in disbelief as the griffon’s splasing is getting closer. She can’t burn too much love on moving faster, there’s nowhere to replenish here, and she’s rationing what she has left in the best way she can already.

“Run runrunrunrunrun! It’s the fucking sword griffon again!” she mentally warns everyone.

“Wait, what? That Imperial Guard from the Castle of Two Sisters?” asks Ten.

“Yeah! The guy whom Comfort and One sent to the Dragon Lands and who found us in Brauheim before we threw him into a magma stream,” adds Five.

“You have got to be kidding me...” Seven breathes out.

“Alright, everyone,” Ten takes charge, “Back off, aim properly, and sent that bastard to the depths of- well, even deeper than he is now. And this time, make sure he’s dead!”

Five rushes left, rounding a corner of the tunnel and seeing horns glowing with magic as well as unpleasant amount of firepower aimed her way. Of course, it doesn’t stop her jumping past Nine with a chainsaw already running.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop the griffon either.

In a shower of sparks, he rams his power-armored foreleg straight into the mechanism of the chainsaw which screeches and stops instantly. The punch has enough power behind it to unbalance Nine which the griffon uses to push past while ripping the mangled chainsaw out of Nine’s grip.

Stompy shoots a laser while backing off which scores a deep scar in the griffon’s armor, but he can’t get a critical aim without hitting Nine. Seven’s magic set on pushing the griffon away is simply shrugged off as the scorched, golden symbols on the griffon’s armor unravel the core of the spell and weaken it enough for the griffon to keep going.

Ten, on the other hole, brandishes the Sword of the First Emperor, and strikes the griffon blocking the blow with the stopped chainsaw.

That finally stops the griffon’s progress as blow after intricate blow force him to defend, dodge, and back off. The griffon is strong and the armor protects him from the sludge, but the viscous goo still hinders his movements while Ten’s flying sword is as fast as ever.

Behind Ten, Five has managed to pull out all the pieces of her laser gatling turret, and assemble the tripod.

“After all these years, this ends here,” growls Ten, seeing through Five’s eyes that both she and Stompy are ready to make mincemeat of the griffon. His sword lights on fire, and cleaves the chainsaw through. 

“Target clear,” Stompy fires a hail of lasers, and so does Five.

“Oh shi-” she curses instantly.

The amount of energy sufficient to burn through a steel vault door stops as all the beams hit a green barrier made by Seven’s unmistakable magic.

Five lets out a breath of relief.

Why? Because as soon as Ten chooped the chainsaw in the griffon’s talons, the Imperial Guard kicked up with his hind leg which caught Nine and sent him flying up right into the griffon’s foreleg as a living shield. Or as living as it can mean here.

Holding Nine by his horn and neck, the griffon smiles when the protective shield disappears and Seven rubs his horn.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t let you incinerate Nine,” he mentally apologizes.

“You can still do it,” replies Nine, “If this helps protect my hive, I will consider it my final service.”

Five aims the gatling at Nine’s head behind which is the griffon’s head.

“Finally! Give me the sword,” growls the griffon.

“You know...” Ten lowers his flying weapon, “Now that I think about it… why not?”

“It’s ONE’S sword,” objects Five.

“Have you ever seen her use it?” he raises an eyebrow, although he doesn’t stop watching the griffon for a second.

“Once or twice, she prefers using her hooves anyway,” Five has to admit.

“Soooo… technically it IS just some ancient dwarf sword the griffons didn’t pay for, right?” Ten pushes his point.

“Look, One will be pissed off if it gets lost. It’s a dwarf gift to her and the boss.”

“Oh, and what is she going to do?” sneers Ten, “Kill me and send me to Tartar- oh wait!”

“I’m not-” Five opens her mouth to object, her mental mouth obviously.

“Hey, big guy,” Ten interrupts her out loud, “How about a deal? No tricks, no traps, just a straight up exchange.”

“What deal?” the griffon shakes Nine.

“Two deals, technically. One - we give you the sword, and you let Nine go. We won’t try to get it back in any way. It will be yours to do whatever you want with it.”

“You think I’m going to believe you after all this time?!” he growls.

“You threatened and attacked us twice,” Ten narrows his eyes, “We defended ourselves. We aren’t the untrustworthy ones here.”

“You dare doubt the word of a Black Ops agent AND and Imperial Guard?” the griffon sounds genuinely upset, which to an infiltrator like Ten is all he needs to hear.

“And part two of our deal,” Ten adds, “You help us get our friend back from the succubi palace, and in return we take you with us back to the real world. You must have realized by now that you can’t just walk out of Tartarus.”

The griffon ponders that in silence.

“I am going to be the one explaining this to One, aren’t I?” sighs Five.

“Tell her it was either the sword or Six,” Ten shrugs mentally.

“I guess...” this doesn’t cheer up Five as much as it should.

“And if she complains about something, tell the boss,” adds Ten, “There is absolutely no way our boss would consider some stupid sword more valuable than Six.”

This finally does help, and so does the griffon’s:

“On my dual authority to both branches of the Griffon Empire, I accept your deal.”

“Good,” Ten doesn’t wait, and throws the sword to the griffon who catches it in one smooth motion while letting Nine go, “I’m Ten, the warrior mare with the laser turret is Five, the big warrior whose chainsaw you ruined is Nine, the mech is Stompy, and the wizard who stopped Nine from having more holes than any changeling should is Seven.”

The griffon, watching the group closely as he approaches after sheathing the sword into a golden scabbard hidden behind a narrow sliding panel on the back of his armor, simply says:

“WooD, agent WooD.”

“Nice to meet you, Wood,” Ten smiles back, worried out of his mind, but more and more certain that the griffon is genuine.

“WooD,” the griffon corrects him.

“Oh right, the emphasis is on the D for some reason,” Ten shrugs, “Nice to meet you, agent.” to himself, he adds, “As in brain Damage.”

Five snickers. Emphasis on the D.

“How old are you, seven?” Ten rolls his eyes.

“I mean, technically yes,” replies Five.

“So, what’s the plan?” asks WooD.

“We need to get inside the citadel, go through, and there should be a portal leading down to the succubi palace. We were hoping there was a way to get there through these sewers, because there’s a huge, locked gate up there, and we don’t have enough explosives to break through. There was a burning skull by the gate who wanted us to answer a riddle or something.”

“I cleared most of this complex out. There’s no way up, if we’re under this... Citadel. Let me have a look at that gate, I’m trained in lockpicking of all sorts and getting into places.”

Some fifteen minutes later, the group are standing by the menacing gate yet again. No one has commented on the remnants of cake batter, pinkys, and confetti.

“Hmmm...” WooD narrows his eyes, accompanied by grunting from burning skulls caged all over the entry hallway, “No keyhole, no problem.”

He disappears into the long hall from which the group originally arrived.

“A little help?” he calls out.

The changelings shrug, and find WooD trying to push one of the huge cages filled with the burning skulls. Despite his obviously crazy strength, it’s still too much for him. With Stompy and Nine, however…

Half an hour later, the room with the Citadel gate is filled with the cages.

“I’d back off if I were you,” says WooD, pointing behind himself. The changelings run off through the hallway, and hide behind a distant corner. WooD reaches into the nearest overfilled cage, and grabs a skull which starts screaming out loud, its fiery mane flaring up. He quickly joins the changelings, points the skull’s face to the distant cages, and smacks its back.

The skull roars, and soars forward like a biting and burning comet.

“Cover your ears,” says WooD.

“Aural sensors disengaged,” replies Stompy.

As soon as the burning skull hits the first cage, the screaming goes hundred times louder, and then-


*BOOM!* 


The whole gate room is scorched black, cake and pinky corpses now only evaporating red mist.

“YES!” Five punches the air.

One wing of the Citadel gate is ripped out of its hinges, showing a crushed mess of zombies and imps behind. Many more, though, are already massing to defend the newly opened part of the complex.

Five pulls a stolen minigun out of her beard, and its barrel start spinning.


***


“Apricots for everyone?” asks Cromach.

“Check!” I say, waving a paper bag.

“Mmphm!” Three nods, mouth full of apricots not used to open the supposed entrance to Magnus’ tower.

“Blueberry juice,” Cromach continues.

“Got it,” I raise the plastic cup stuck firmly inside a hole in my leg.

“Mmmhm!” and so does Three.

“Sometimes I envy you changelings,” the griffon shakes his white head, “Now think of a mare you want to bang. Mare specifically, I assume, so here we go - Connie. Some lingerie? Nah, latex thong and corset? That’s better.”

“Miss One!” Three finally swallows the chewed apricots and spits the kernels out.
“One,” I say simply.

Three and I look at each other. Cromach snickers.

“Oh my, rivalry?”

I exchange grins with Three, and we both walk into a tall wall which wobbles and swallows us. I’m fully aware that One taught Three the basics… I mean the most basic of the basics. Like what kissing is and why we had to soundproof the castle cellars… after I found out that the guards were taking bets on how soon I would be able to crawl out on my own each time.

I mean, I would like to describe the famous griffon Holy City, the core of the Empire and the seat of the Emperor himself. Well, a booster seat these days, because as we were approaching, Cromach told me a story where he and his lover thwarted a hostile takeover of power which resulted in the death of the previous Emperor and left the throne in the rather young talons of the new Emperor and his current caretaker Vargaz whom I met in Canterlot. Come to think of it, since the Griffon Empire stands on the separation of power between the Black Ops, the Emperor, and the noble families, Vargaz, being the head of Black Ops and the current Imperial steward, might actually be the most politically and militarily powerful creature in the world.

Damn, words cannot express how happy I am that I have just few changelings in our cozy underground home to take care of. And they can take care of themselves… most of the time.

Back to the topic, I actually didn’t see much of the Holy City, because we were supposed to stay inside the airship with no view until we stopped right above the central market which looked like a city of its own, with possibly thousands of small alleys spread into a spiderweb pattern filled with stands and stores. The only thing I could gather clearly while flying down from the ship was that the crowds in the market itself were more griffons than the entire population of both Canterlots, and the size of the Holy City itself looked as if someone was gazing from upper Canterlot city walls, and everything they could see were houses and plazas.

The city is HUUUUUUUGE.

On the other hole, sightseeing wasn’t exactly our reason for being there anyway, so we quickly bought what we needed with Black Ops money the agents gave to Cromach without a question, and found the tall wall separating the market from what supposedly is the center of the Holy City - the imperial palace itself, which from above looked like a guarded city on its own.

And so here we are…

...in a grey, dark, stone room.

I boop Three, which makes the runes all over him flare up with bright, white light.

“Much better,” I look around. There really isn’t anything to talk about, since the whole place actually looks similar to a Canterlot castle dungeon cell.

Reality wibbles, and Cromach appears next to me and Three. He turns his head from side to side, and then looks at Three, brows furrowed.

“Lampling,” he snorts, “Very useful.”

I flick Three’s stubby tail, and his eyes light up too, casting two bright cones ahead.

“Huh, didn’t know this was a thing,” I admit.

“Me too,” Three shakes his head, making the lights all around the room dance, “I wonder if I can… hnnng...” nothing happens, “Awww, I thought I could change colors again. I must be doing something wrong. Oh well, where are we?” he asks with a carefree shrug.

“Good question,” Cromach walks ahead, putting his ear to a closed door set in the opposite wall, “Maybe a holding cell in case someone accidentally wandered into Magnus’ tower?”

“I don’t know much about magic, but wouldn’t the next logical step be having an alarm here if that happened?” I ask.

“True,” Cromach nods, and grabs the door handle with his talons. He blinks as green lightning courses through him, then through the door, and finally the door opens, “Whoah, what just happened?”

“Asking the wrong changeling here,” I shrug, “I know everything about changelings glowing green, not griffons.”

“Three, any ideas?” Cromach looks at Three instead. 

His lights turn green.

“Hah! How did I do that?” Three examines his hooves.

“Another wrong changeling...” I roll my eyes.

“Pfff, can one of you change into the right changeling?” he smirks, and without waiting for anything he walks through the door. The next room looks like a longer version of the previous cell, although the door on the other side doesn’t bear any handle or lock, but with one big, tall, muscular, and bouncing difference.

A grey, translucent, and very endowed female minotaur wearing a short corset leaving her heavily toned midsection open, fishnet stockings, and a top hat for some reason smiles at us, and crosses her hands on her bountiful chest, adding a serious amount of squish to the already straining corset.

“Greetings, visitors,” she announces in a tone I usually hear before One closes a cellar door behind us, and smiles, “My master wasn’t expecting anyone today.”

“We weren’t expecting such warm welcome either,” Cromach unceremoniously walks over to her, and pokes her abs. His talon passes through with only a little resistance, which makes him hum with interest, “Too corporeal to be a projection of a spirit, but not enough to be a construct. What are you?”

The minotaur chuckles, and runs the palm of her hand down Cromach’s cheek. Judging by his twitch away, he can feel it in full.

“I am just the master’s servant. In here, I am as real as I need to be, handsome,” she chuckles, and leans down a little to face Cromach which strains her corset even further. If that was some real material failing under the constraint of physics, we would be already watching a definitely gripping show. See? I did listen to Six trying to teach me stuff from his engineering classes, although I do admit that boob physics wasn’t what I was expecting to use the teachings on, “But since you arrived unannounced, you have to prove that you are worth my master’s time,” she rises to her full height.
 
“And how would we do that?” I ask.

If she’s in any way bothered by me being a changeling and Three being a walking green lantern, she doesn’t let it show whatsoever.

“Hello, pretty lady,” Three looks up at her.

“Oh my, aren’t you adorable!” she squats, and squishes Three’s cheeks, which makes his lights turn pink. To the rest of us cursed by lack of heart-rending cuteness, she says, “Anyway, you will have to pass a series of challenges, which will test your suitability and dedication to any cause which brought you here.”

Cromach sighs.

“Alright then, let’s get on with it...”

“Excellent!” the minotaur claps her hands together, wide smile on her face. It seems she’s happy to have company other than presumably Magnus. There can’t be too many visitors here, “The first one is simple - a riddle.”

“We’re listening,” says Cromach.

I am listening, but not exactly to the minotaur. There’s faint humming of electricity in the walls which I haven’t heard since I left Brauheim. From what I was told, this is supposed to be a tower inside some pocket dimension, in which it makes sense that Magnus would be able to move around without his titty ghost bothering him. Transporting his ‘test subjects’ could also happen using teleportation, but the machinery I hear would make no sense then. On top of that, if our crazy researcher Magnus is in any way similar to Seven… he’s lazy.

The thing I hear in the walls is the humming of an elevator on standby like in many of Brauheim mines.

“That’s easy!” exclaims Three, “The answer is ‘changeling’.”

I turn around just to see Cromach facehoof- facepalm- facetalon.

“I respectfully have to disagree, little changeling,” the minotaur blinks in surprise.

“No no no!” Three shakes his head vigorously, “I can totally walk on all fours in the morning,” he trots around, “And at noon I can walk on two legs,” he transforms into a quarter-sized version of the female minotaur herself, and struts around, butt in fishnets jiggling and swaying from side to side, “And three legs in the evening is easy. Look, I still have my juice cup!” he returns to his normal form, and walks around on three legs while sipping his drink stuck in a leg cupholder. 

The minotaur’s jaw drops.

“I think he got you there,” Cromach shrugs, the corner of his beak twitching, “Next challenge?”

“I- I- I don’t think-” she huffs, “Okay, I’ll admit your take on the riddle is workable,” turning around, she touches the door which opens, “Come and face the second challenge then.”

She walks through with Three and Cromach in tow. I frown, and stomp my hoof against the floor several times. As the tremors travel through the stone floor, I listen and feel.

Ah hah!

“Beardling, you coming?” Cromach raises his voice.

“Give me a moment!” I call back, “You seem to be doing fine with the challenges.”

Three and Cromach look around the next room which once again looks very similar to the previous one, but instead of door, the opposite wall is completely taken by strange mechanism consisting of a dozen spinning gears, connecting transmissions, and ridges within the constraint of which the gears can presumably be moved. Near the entrance there is a panel with buttons and levers.

“What in Hope’s reach is this?” Cromach rolls his eyes.

“A simple challenge, unless I prove too distracting for you, handsome,” the minotaur traces Cromach’s clearly defined muscles on the side of his barrel, before bending over to stretch and moan, “Mmm, it feels great to be conjured up once in a while. Physical bodies have their advantages,” she snaps her fingers, as if remembering her reason for being here, “The panel you’re looking at controls the opening mechanism to the next challenge. You are free to test what each controller does. Some move the gears, some change the position of the transmissions. You need to connect the spinning motor gear to the golden gears in each corner. Once all are spinning, powered by the central motor, the door will open.”

“Okay,” Three buzzes into the air to examine the controls.

“What’s the red gear in the middle of the right side?” asks Cromach with suspicion.

“Smart as well as having the body sculpted by gods themselves,” the minotaur gives Cromach a smooch on his cheek, “That one activates the spike traps around the room. I wouldn’t turn that on if I were you.”

“Three, don’t touch anything yet,” says Cromach immediately.

“Okay!”

“I will give you two pieces of advice,” the minotaur smiles, “Since you don’t look like common thieves, or uncommon ones for the matter. None of the first moves you can make will trigger the trap, and all moves you make can be reversed by the same controller, how about that?”

“Thank you very much,” says Cromach with a smile, “And if you weren’t incorporeal, Three would hug you, I think.”

“LONG WORDS I DON’T UNDERSTAND WON’T STOP ME FROM HUGGING!” Three jumps at the minotaur, and latches onto her chest, nuzzling her neck. She gives him a genuinely confused stare, and eventually just pats his head, which makes him let go and return to examining the control panel.

Cromach moves a lever at random, and gets ready to run back into the previous room in case the minotaur was lying. Nothing other than one of the non-spinning gears moving along its ridge happens. He repeats the process by pulling the lever back. The gear returns to its original position. So at least the reversal thing was true.

“Oookay, this is going to get annoying fast...” he taps his talons on the panel.

“Nope,” I enter the room, and gesture at both of them to follow me, “Come here.”

I lead everyone back to the previous room, walk over to a wall, and press a stone which smoothly slides inwards. In response, a section of the wall next to it turns out to be a metal panel with a small outward section imitating the rest of the room, and it is pulled into the ceiling along with a hiss of hydraulics.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” objects the minotaur as I enter the large elevator lit by electric lights in its ceiling.

“An elevator?” Cromach tilts his head, “Are you sure this isn’t going to backfire horribly?”

“No, but you’re free to fiddle with whatever that damn clockwork thing in the other room is,” I shrug, and move my hoof to push the button which looks like an arrow pointing upwards. Three is already in here with me, so Cromach just walks in as well, and pushes the button himself, “Sorry, miss minotaur, but we don’t have time for this.”

She sighs, and squeezes her breasts.

“I’ll miss having a body again. Oh well… good luck, I suppose,” with a shrug, she dissipates into nothing.

The elevator door closes, and the box starts moving upwards.

“How did you find this?” asks Cromach, giving me an appraising and impressed look.

“One, I have a changeling who is top notch at analyzing magic so I know how lazy researchers are. Two, from everything I heard, this Magnus isn’t exactly a paragon of morals, so I doubt a lot of his test subjects were willing. He needed a way to transport them while, let’s say, using his magic to do something else. Three, I used to be a drone, Cromach, and drones exists to scout out underground areas. We can feel the structure of solid ground, nearby hollow spaces, and potential cave-ins. Plus, I could hear the buzzing of electricity in the walls. This is a high-tech place, maybe more than Br- any other place I’ve seen. Three could have figured this out too, but he was busy answering questions from one very distracting minotaur.”

The elevator stops, and the door opens again, showing only a round room lit by wall lamps imitating old oil lanterns, but with much better light. There’s a simple wooden door ahead heavily decorated with angular symbols I can’t recognize at all. What comes to mind first is that someone very old wanted to make this place feel familiar while still enjoying the benefits of present-time technology. Strangely enough, no magic yet. For the supposed primal alicorn of Magic, this entire place is highly technological other than the fake minotaur.

“Be prepared. If Magnus is the attacker, we might find ourselves in a shitstorm without an umbrella,” whispers Cromach, and walks towards the door.

He raises his talons to knock, then simply grabs the handle and pushes.

Immediately, I hear angry mumbling clearly belonging to a stallion.

“Greeeeeat, so I have to update something against changelings. Come in, sit down, and shut up. I’m busy.”

Well, still a better welcome than a fireball. With a shrug, I follow frowning Cromach into-

“Wooooooow!” Three says mentally as he looks around, eyes widening.

Now this is a laboratory bigger than Canterlot castle ballroom. There are various tables spread around, each hosting either sets of books, alchemical equipment, clearly magical crystals, machinery, fields of pure, colored magic containing real or unreal items or shapes. The walls are lined from the floor to the ceiling with decorated bookshelves, books, scrolls, display cases with weapons, armors, amulets, alchemical reagents, things I can’t recognize, name, or even some which make my head ache only by looking at. No cages or bloodied operating tables, though. Surprising.

A white unicorn with blond mane and permanent frown etched on his face is walking around with a set of opened books, rolled out scrolls, and diagrams made of pure light spread in a dome around him, all following his every move.

The pony isn’t an alicorn, clearly due to his lack of wings, but Cromach is watching him so carefully as if he was about to melt us with a stray thought. That could be the case, actually.  

And so we just patiently stand there, watching him move around and mutter to himself. After twenty minutes, I can’t take it anymore, and clear my throat.

“Get lost!” Magnus barks our way.

“A-HEM!” I clear my throat louder, “We’re here to ask about-”

“I don’t care, I’m BUSY!”

“Princess Celestia think you might be behind the attacks on royalty-” Cromach gives it a shot as well.

“Yeeeeeah, that sounds so stupid I don’t doubt she came up with that...” Magnus only switches two books in front of him, and the floating diagram of light shifts, “Thirty-four percent, really? That sounds like way too much. Why wouldn’t it just blow up then? Spinning for stability? Wait, is the spin of the universe actually enough to offset the volatility?”

We won’t get anywhere like this.

“Mister Magnus-” I burning set of love claws grows out of my foreleg.

“Which part of busy did you not understand the first time, dimwit? Go tell Sunbutt to eat another cake or something.”

“-I would really look around before blowing us off like this,” I continue, now unfazed, “It would be a shame if some of the gorgeous stuff here got damaged on accident...”

That makes the annoyed alic- unicorn look straight at me and at my razor sharp love claws casually resting on a random table completely covered in scrolls. I have no idea whether the stuff lying on it is important, but right now I’m going for quantity over quality.

“You get one minute before I disintegrate you,” he growls.

“Look, we don’t want to antagonize-” I wave my forelegs in front of me.

“Fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-six,” counts Magnus.

“Someone is attacking alicorns and other targets possessing divine power, and using some sort of draining magic to likely steal it. Queen Novo, princess Cadance, and princess Luna got attacked, and before Lunna passed out she ident-” Cromach corrects himself, “-she mentioned you. We don’t know why.”

Magnus marches over to Cromach, and in a flash of bright, pure white telekinetic light, he grabs Cromach by his chin.

“Do I look like an idiot to you? DO I?!” he jabs Cromach’s chest. Considering he’s smaller than the griffon, he is still managing to be far more menacing, “Do I look like someone DUMB ENOUGH to just go and start randomly draining divinity from completely unrelated targets?”

“Ummm, no?” Three squaks, unsure what to do face to face with someone so… un-huggable.

“See? That guy knows that!” Magnus facehoofs, “Look, you idiots, it’s obvious you don’t know shit about magic, divinity, or laws of reality, and same goes for the moron who is attacking your royalty.”

“I think Celestia suspected that you were trying to get your divinity back because you lost it at some point,” says Cromach in as calm tone as he can muster.

“THEN I WOULD BE ATTACKING THAT PURPLE PAIN IN THE ASS SHE TURNED INTO AN ALICORN, NOT SOME RANDOM ASSORTMENT OF DIVINE WANNABES. TAKING DIVINITY ISN’T LIKE MAKING A SALAD, A CARROT HERE, A TOMATO THERE, SOME DRESSING, AND BOOM!” Magnus sits down, waving his forelegs to the roof, “Okay, okay… you’re gonna need a new heart again if you let every braindead idiot’s idea get to you,” he takes several deep breaths, “I’ll try to explain it in simple terms for you. First, I didn’t lose my divinity, I didn’t leave it behind a couch somewhere, and I damn well didn’t have it stolen like all those idiots you’re whining about. I gave it up. Can you imagine how stars-damn irritating it was to have to fight some Discord’s creation, Nightmare’s possessed crybaby, or just some dumbass who figured out how to use the void to create an asymetrical energy pull and wanted to become an alicorn? Yeah, I gave up my divinity to have some PEACE AND QUIET TO THINK ABOUT THINGS. I could get test subjects whenever I wanted, I didn’t need some wannabe heroes or villains throwing themselves at me all the time.”

“Ooookay?” Cromach says quietly. He opted against his original idea of ‘Are we supposed to believe that?’, “So about the current draining attacks… you said it was easy and happened often, I get it.”

“Yes, draining is easy. Surviving it is the hard part. You’re fucking with the ultimate primal energy, basically. If someone actually managed to drain an alicorn completely without being attuned to their particular type of divinity, the power would twist them mentally and physically into someone completely different, and that’s the perfect end, one in billions chance. And don’t worry, what would happen next would be some other alicorns noticing, and you’d have five of them knocking on your door, rather worried about their own safety, and by worried I mean ready to make sure your draining days are over.”

“What if someone managed to defeat the other five and drain them too? Maybe by taking the power of some top-tier alicorn first,” asks Cromach, “Let’s say someone like Void.”

“If someone touched Void they would die immediately, but I accept your theoretical premise. The potential winner of the fight would have six completely different divinities in them each struggling to shape them into their image. Simply put, the amount of conflicting power would destroy their body, their mind, and on top of that their soul as well. No resurrection, no actual power, only pain on a level you can’t even begin to imagine.”

“So whoever is draining the royals doesn’t know what’s going to happen?” I ask.

“Pretty much. If the drained royals survive the process, they will still be the most compatible wielders, so their power will return to them after the thief inevitably melts from the inside. And if they royals die, new alicorns will appear eventually,” Magnus shrugs, “It’s a problem that will sort itself out on its own.”

“Wait, that doesn’t add up...” Cromach furrows his brows, “What about someone like Blazing Light or Tirek? You examined Blaze in Manehattan, you know what he could do.”

“I wanted to get Blazing here and examine him properly, but noooooo, you just had to keep him to save the reality as we know it,” Magnus huffs, “Now we won’t know how he did what he did. My best guess is that he was just someone whose special talent was energy manipulation in the first place, and who got lucky in getting exposed to survivable amounts of divinity his body got accustomed to. Being the eventual alicorn of something as vaguely defined as Hope helped too. Cutie mark magic is closely tied to destiny which is something not even the gods know. As for Tirek, he’s irrelevant. He can’t hold divinity properly. He just drains everything, has some fun, and then eventually it radiates back into reality. That’s why he continuously needs to keep devouring to stay in his roided form.”

“What if the draining creature was an undead?” asks Cromach.

“That doesn’t change squat, other than that the part with divinity ripping your soul to pieces would come sooner-” Magnus stops himself, and rolls his eyes, “Oh… let me guess, some lich who thought undeath would mean immortality, but now can’t handle the deal he got into and is trying to return to true life by wishing, which is basically what using divinity is. Amateurs… been there, done that,” he shrugs, “Doesn’t work in the long term.”

“You… un-undeaded yourself?” Cromach blinks.

“That kind of language makes me want to re-dead myself,” Magnus groans, “Look, the only way to achieve eternal life, I mean actual life, not undeath, not switching hosts, and not creating constructs is perfect regeneration or natural divinity. No one else but me can do the regeneration, because simply put, no one has the basic knowledge, the talent, and the time to work it out. It took me millions of years of experimentation on others and then on myself when I figured out my creator would eventually want to pull his divinity out of me anyway. Standard, self-cast regeneration spells can’t heal the brain, because you’re changing the cells you’re using to cast the spell itself. And using others just hits the same wall of having to be immortal in the first place to have the time to invent the spell, plus without the caster actually fully knowing the target. Anyway, I’m not sharing the knowledge,” he taps his temple. 

I sigh.

“So this whole trip was a big bust, and in the meantime my guys can be fighting some powerful undead who can attack princesses within the confines of their castle without fear...”

“By definition, undead can’t feel fear,” Magnus shrugs. He looks at me and Cromach now silently pondering the situation, and Three watching a table filled with bubbling and foaming lab equipment, “Ughhhh, fine… how did the attacks happen?”

“The first one happened in the Crystal Empire castle,” I answer, unsure where he’s going with that question, “The enemy made the whole castle fall asleep. We found somepony in princess Cadance’s bedroom, and when we attacked the figure, it broke and some black shadow thingy fled the scene. The next one happened inside Canterlot castle, pretty much the same other than the sleep spell affecting only one floor. And the third one, the attack on Luna, happened just outside the castle. I’m not sure what exactly happened-”

“The lich attacked Luna in the dream realm, then a pocket dimension, and finally they managed to drain her almost completely in the real world. She raised the alarm in time for the Nightguards to arrive. At this point, the lich had a flesh golem with him, one of Celestia’s ex-paladins.”

“Then the situation looks pretty clear to me,” Magnus fiddles with the alchemy table, and purple bubbles burst out from a beaker, much to Three’s visible joy, “Both castles use global magical wards for protection. After Twilight kicked Sombra’s ass, and later when Blazing Light stopped the mirror world invasion, unicorn wizards from the United Orders were sent to scrub the Crystal castle for Sombra’s magic, and to set up a set of wards similar to Canterlot castle in order for the Royal Guards transferred north to be easily able to use magic in there and teach the crystal ponies wanting to serve under Cadance. I’d say that the Crystal castle’s wards aren’t as complex as the layers on the one in Canterlot, simply because they’re fresh, so the lich was able to affect the whole castle with the sleep spell using those as power source.”

“Wait, using the castle’s own protection wards as source for a spell affecting the castle?” Cromach furrows his brows.

“Well duh,” Magnus gives him a flat glance, “What do you think the wards do? They focus magic. Usually into huge shields in case of invasions, into detection spells for general security, or simply act as magical reserves for the magic users inside. It’s not difficult for someone who knows the structure of the wards to weave in a little trigger for some different magic, or use the ward influence to cast a simple spell at much greater effect.”

“Ohhhhhhhh!” Cromach hums, nodding, “So that’s what you’re getting at. Since the lich knew the structure of wards both in the Crystal Empire and in Canterlot, it had to be someone who had something to do with setting the wards up in the first place, right? Someone from the United Orders of Wizardry?”

“Bingo!” Magnus smiles for the first time, apparently pleased with Cromach’s accurate guess, “Now, I don’t particularly care for mortal problems, but I would be careful of the shadows if I were you. To me it looks like the lich was using asymmetric energy transfer via opening small portals to the void. The fact that shadows are slipping in means he can’t control those properly.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand pretty much anything from what you just said,” I shake my head when Cromach looks lost in thought now, “What part are you bothered about if it’s not the lich draining the power of alicorns?”

“That he’s incompetent!” Magnus rolls his eyes, “You see, energy draining spells in their most basic and dangerous form work like this - you open a gate to the void which sucks in energy in all forms, which means matter, magic, divinity, anything, and then you intercept the flow before the energy disappears through the gate forever. Void, the place not the alicorn, is something extremely difficult and dangerous to research, so even I don’t know too much about it, but there’s one crucial thing to understand, and that is that opening portals to the void is the easy part, closing them is the difficult one. And if you screw up that part, the portal can swallow you and everything around. In theory, even a small void rift if left unchecked can grow big enough to swallow the whole reality. That’s why I’m helping you. Some idiot sucking off princesses isn’t on my radar, but if he’s using void portals and shadows are slipping through already, it would be a good idea to stop him before he bites off more than he can chew, and destroys the whole existence on accident. It’s hard doing research on magic, divinity, and reality itself when it all stops existing.”

“Oh fuck...” Cromach suddenly facehoofs, “Lich, a LICH, the damn thing on his neck was a PHYLACTERY! I’m such an idiot! That’s why they never found a corpse, they just thought he died under the cave-in. He even worked on the castle wards in the first place. I thought Celestia had the protections altered after last year… that lazy fatass.”

“You know who the attacker is?” I ask.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s all coming together. His original interest in my divinity, the stolen twin rings of restoration, a fleshcrafted revenant, the attack in Manehattan. Pocket dimension, shadows, divine targets...”

“Cromach, who is it?”

“It has to be Arcane Hex,” he breathes out.


***


“Plasmatic projectiles detected,” Stompy jumps forward behind a pillar with speed never before seen from him. A second later, blasts of something yellowish-green scorch the brown walls of the Citadel. Even hidden behind a corner, Five can feel the searing heat from the projectiles.

The Citadel has been proving to be far more dangerous than anything before. The rifle zombies, minigun zombies, or even the imps, pinkys, and burning skulls were something Five or Nine could charge head-first, but now… not anymore. 

“Leave this to me!” Ten rushes into a large, round courtyard with a circle of pillars holding an overhang all around the courtyard’s circumference when he sees a hail of guided rockets from several of those tall skeletons aimed into the entry hallway where the group are hiding.

The rockets immediately target him just as another blast of plasma sears the left pillar he hides behind. Unfortunately, dodging the guided missiles isn’t that simple, so Ten has to run into the courtyard in full view of the skeletons and two more types of horrifying monstrosities. He stops in front of the pillar, and then teleports behind it with a satisfying series of explosions shaking the masonry. The pillar holds firm, though.

He immediately transfers the assessment of the situation he saw while running via the hive links to Five, Seven, and Nine, knowing they’d inform WooD.

“Five rocket skeletons, three of those fat flamethrower guys, and one whatever that looks like a brain with spider legs,” the images of the exact positions of the monsters follow, “Too bad all those are resistant to Stompy’s lasers. Everything here is.”

“Well, at least they aren’t completely immune,” replies Five, “Seven, I’ll need a fire resistance spell. Ten, when I tell you, you draw another volley of rockets. We’ll have few seconds while the skeletons are reloading,” she pulls out the stolen minigun from her beard, and tosses it to WooD, saying, “This isn’t a melee situation, big guy. Target the fatties. Stompy, focus the spider when you have open line of fire.”

“Fireproofing spell won’t protect you from the spider brain’s plasma,” says Seven, but weaves the protective magic nonetheless.

“Hopefully it won’t have to.”

“What about me?” asks Nine.

“You hold this,” she tosses her fake beard to him,” And wait here in case some wall opens and demons attack from the back,” she sighs, “That seems to be the theme of this place - monster closets. ALRIGHT, TEN, GO GO GO!”

Ten runs from behind his pillar.

“Hey, skellies!” he calls out, which is instantly answered by a volley of rockets. Ten’s horn flashes, and with a scream and burst holy fire, one of the skeletons crumbles on the ground, “Don’t mess with a palad- aaaaaaaaaaaaa!” he teleports away as a one rocket misses him by a hair, its heat caressing his chitin, and turns back at him, “Okay, no more taunting.”

At the same time, Five’s carapace is burning green, its top layers turning into a complex fireproof material aided by Seven’s fire resistance spell. Next are her lungs drawing in more and more breath in expectations of air soon to be incinerated around her. As she quickly runs forward, the three unbelievably broad and fat bipeds with a flamethrower instead of each hand aim at her, unleashing a flaring firestorm.

To cover Five, Stompy and WooD jump out of the wide pillar they’ve both been hiding behind, both aiming at the spider brain, twin particle beams and a hail of minigun bullets quickly answered by the spider’s plasma. WooD spins back behind the pillar as the plasma blasts scorch its surface. As soon as the burning firepower retargets at Stompy, he jumps out again and resumes the suppressing fire, switching with the mech.

The rock-liquifying fire of the six flamethrowers never stops, not even as the nightmarish vision of a black equine third of the fat demons’ height walks through the flames, mouth closed but spread into a bloodthirsty grin. The flamethrowers don’t stop even as she walks over to the first demon and her hoof glowing red from the accumulated heat punches through the demon with ease, leaving behind a seared hole. Only when her following left hook rips through the fat demon from his gut to his head, one pair of flamethrowers stop belching molten death. Two more to go.

Ten teleports behind one skeleton whose jaw drops when faced with a stacked cloud of rockets following the changeling. With a flick of his horn, Ten casually casts a specialized banishment spell which easily destroys the magic holding a different skeleton together, divine flames devouring that target within seconds. He has to teleport away again, because while the rockets obliterated the first skeleton with ease, there’s simply too many of them following Ten.
 
With a distorted screech, the spider legs of the brain demon fold under it, followed by furious scream of:

“FOR THE EMPEROR!”

WooD doesn’t stop shooting at the spider brain as he runs on three legs, turning the demon into mush. However, Seven notices it’s not just blind rage. WooD is destroying the brain matter, but leaving the plasma weapon lodged in the spider’s mechanical torso intact.

Five simply runs through the final living fat demon, the heat of the unstopping flamethrowers enough to leave a blazing hole in the demon’s body as even it crumbles, and the fire finally stops.

Seven has finally figured out the specialized paladin spell Ten has been using, and added his own quick improvements on the go. The final two skeletons turn to dust, leaving behind only their rocket launcher shoulderpads.

They look around the scorched courtyard filled with blood and gore. As Five cools down, she notes down few things. One, the demons aren’t smart or use strategy. They will just attack whatever is in range. Two, their weapons have seemingly unlimited ammunition. Probably something to do with the rules of Tartarus. And three, other than having some resistance to heat and tough skin, they seem to be as vulnerable as anyone. 

The problem lies elsewhere. The physical perfection of changelings is proving insurmountable even for the demonic hordes, which makes Five smile. Ten feels her joy and understands. If Chrysalis had any idea how powerful changelings could really be, she would have taken over the world ages ago. However, their vulnerability lies in the inability to regain love here, or even lust. The friendship bonds between the changelings have been enough to keep them from running out, but that can’t last forever, and there’s no telling how many enemies still stand between them and Six.
 

*Thud!*



*Thud!*



*Thud!*


“That’s stompier than Stompy,” comments Seven, looking around for the source of the fresh repeating noise slowly drawing closer.

“What are the chances of whatever it is being friendly?” asks Nine, knowing the well that answer is zero. 

“Scatter and hide!” orders Five, and everyone find their own pillar to hide behind. The heavy steps are punctuated by loud buzzing of electronics, and now seem to be coming from the other side of the courtyard.

The noise stops.

“Okaaay?” Five doesn’t dare speak out loud, “Stay put!”

She immediately likes WooD for his discipline, because he doesn’t need mental orders, he can just read the movements of the rest of the group with ease. An experienced soldier, likely one who spent more time in combat operations than Five’s been alive.

Seconds pass, accompanied by the stomping from behind the wall ahead.

Nothing.

Five breathes in, breathes out, and waits.

A minute passes.

Maybe whatever is behind the wall simply heard something but doesn’t know how to get to them?

“Remain still...” Five’s gut says otherwise.

She smiles victoriously when a chaotic cacophony of undeterminable noise erupts from the center of the courtyard along with a huge sphere of green and yellow light, leaving behind…

...a spider brain, but one as big as a two-story house, the top of its leathery brain matter almost reaching the height of the overhang. Well, if the one before was a brain, this one could be the mastermind.

It turns around on its mechanical spider legs, scanning the area for any targets. If there is a good thing about the situation, it’s that it seems that Five’s patience saved them from having to run between the spider mastermind’s huge legs. Plus, it could be quite possible that the spider legs won’t be able to reach under the overhang and behind the pillars.

“Maybe we won’t have to fight,” transmits Five, “See the metal doors to the left and right? I’ll turn invisible and check those out. Stay where you are.”

Silently, Five disappears, hoping that the mastermind won’t be able to detect her, because the invisibility transformation and soft hooves for sneaking don’t leave any way to harden her chitin. She’s basically defenseless like this.

It takes her about a minute of careful sneaking counter-clockwise to get to the metal door on the right. She touches it. It buzzes, but doesn’t move.

The noise makes the huge spider turn with surprising speed, and as soon as Five hears the buzzing and hissing of the hydraulics of the mastermind’s legs, she jumps behind the nearest pillar, narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets hitting the door.

“Okay, this one has a minigun,” she says mentally, “And is a lot faster than its size should allow. Be careful. Oh, and the damn door is locked, so I suppose the other one will be as well.” 

“So, do we have to kill it to proceed?” asks Nine.

“We’ll at least need to kill it so that we can safely look around,” Five shrugs, shifting her chitin again into the anti-ballistic combat variant. With a frown, she realizes that Nine still has her beard of holding, “Nine, you have my weapons. I need some time to recover before I switch from tough reinforcement to invisibility again. Moments like these make me wish I was an infiltrator. Going from super hard to super soft makes my head ache.”

On the other side of the courtyard, Ten offers:

“We can see if the big guy is also sturdier than the one before. I’ll try something to distract it. Nine will be able to run to you in the meantime.”

“Worth a shot,” Five shrugs, “We’ll have to test its durability at some point anyway.”

Ten takes a deep breath.

“GO!” he orders, peeks from behind his pillar, and releases a beam of sunlight from his horn.

The mastermind turns with its unnatural speed…

...but not towards Ten.

Nine needs only several seconds to get to Five. Unfortunately, that’s the time he doesn’t get, because this demon seems to be smart. In hindsight, the big brain should have been a clue.

A hail of bullets from the huge minigun set in front of the mastermind shoots Nine’s leg with precision, the leg on which he was just about to land. Nine loses balance and rolls, only for the bullets to push him against the wall, busting shards of breaking chitin out of him.

Hive mind time stops.

“We need to help Nine,” orders Five.

“No,” Nine disagrees with a grim expression, “This one isn’t like the zombie miniguns. If I can’t stand it, none of you can. You need to distract the mastermind to hurt it.”

“Nine-”

“Five, I was already dead. You and Ten gave me the chance to find out that my original death wasn’t in vain, that my new hive survived under our little drone boss, and lived to see the peace between ponies and changelings. I am a warrior, Five. I serve the hive.”

“Seven, Ten, can’t you host his mind or soul or something to resurrect him back home?” Five raises her mental voice, straining to keep the time stopped.

“I’m dead myself, if you didn’t notice. I’m sorry,” whispers Ten.

“I’m sorry,” Seven’s eyes water, “I’m just… too bad at mind tricks. I’m sorry I’m such a shit infiltrator...”

The hive communiation is broken by Nine himself, and the warrior returns to the painful reality of his body being shot to pieces. The huge bullets rip out chunks of him, but there’s only one thing he needs to do now, which is to pour his love into his forelegs, and throw the beard. He doesn’t slowly bleed out to feel his consciousness slip away, as the next precise bullet splatters his head on the wall.

“Don’t move!” calls out Seven for WooD and Stompy.

Five, grinding her teeth, catches the beard.

“I will destroy you and that bitch who took Six!”

The laughing spider mastermind, satisfied with its work, starts turning towards Ten whose magical beam doesn’t seem to be doing much. The infiltrator hides behind the pillar again. The mastermind simply stops, aiming its minigun at Ten’s pillar. Considering its speed and accuracy, trying anything would be a suicide.

In the ensuing silence, Five puts her beard on.

“Listen and obey,” is all she says to Seven and Ten, connecting their minds.

Seven creates an illusion of Ten which rushes from behind his pillar, immediately pursued by minigun bullets.

“Stompy!” shouts Five, making the mastermind let the illusion go and turn around.

The mech shuffles from behind a completely different pillar, of course, the twin particle beams immediately drilling into the mastermind’s brain. The wounds spew yellow goo, and the mastermind screeches, backpeddling with its legs.

WooD sees an opportunity, and shows himself with the stolen plasma gun, immediately spinning back bahind the pillar as bullets ricochet off of it.

“Smart bastard,” curses the griffon, “It was faking all this time.”

Ten conjures a flaming sword which buries itself in the mastermind’s brain, scoring a deep groove. However, just the sheer size of the mastermind makes it too difficult for a normal-sized sword to cause any significant damage to the fleshy mass.

The paladin receives Five’s next order, and shows himself, the direct field of vision giving much more power to his sword strikes.

The mastermind turns towards him, hitting Stompy with few bullets on the way and denting his armor plating before the mech returns behind his pillar.

Ten offers a short prayer to Celestia’s booty, stopping himself from immediately hiding behind his pillar again. It takes serious willpower, and also changeling cooperation to stand there, magically hacking away at the huge spider, and dodge only when the first bullet is finally aimed straight at him.

This is what Seven needs, though, to accurately target and focus his magic.

A lightning bolt not of magical scale, but one of those thick pillars of brilliant light breaking the sky and the world during a wild thunderstorm. One could say it’s a lightning on a frighteningly natural scale. It strikes the mastermind, for a fraction of a second connecting Seven’s horn and the demon.

The electronic screech of agony is real this time, and that’s when Five rolls out from behind her pillar with the assembled laser gatling turret. The demonc flesh might be resistant to heat, but its legs are metal, and that’s what Five is aiming for, melting off one leg of the paralyzed demon after another. It finally decides between Seven and Five, and starts turning towards her. It lacks the legs, though, and it collapses in a heap on the ground, unable to do more than push itself along the floor.

WooD takes the opportunity to charge at the mastermind, ramming his plasma gun’s barrel straight where the electronics of the huge minigun join the brown, rotting brain matter, and pulls the trigger. 

The demon’s screeching goes louder and louder until it finally collapses into a gurgle, and the spider mastermind goes quiet with one final twitch of its legs.

Everything goes silent other than two hisses of both previously locked courtyard doors opening.

Five looks at Nine’s devastated remains. The changelings exchange thoughts, and know there’s nothing to say. Nine’s last words were enough. Although, to everyone’s surprise, WooD quickly salutes in Nine’s direction, and returns to chopping the brain.

“Finally someone who understood it,” she mutters to herself, “For the hive, brother.”

“Did you say something?” asks Ten, approaching and rubbing his horn.

“Nothing,” she shakes her head, “I just regret not having met Nine in the real world. Let’s move on before we attract something worse than that thing,” she spits on the mastermind, “Hey, WooD, that minigun is too big even for you.”

The griffon looks at the weapon thicker than his barrel along with the power armor still partially buried in the brain matter, and has to admit that Five might be right. He sheds a single tear of unfulfilled dakka, kicks the closest chunk of the shredded brain, and follows Five out of the courtyard.


***


“Who is Arcane Hex?” I ask.

Cromach shakes his head.

“A very powerful unicorn wizard, that’s all you really need to know. Last year, he was behind a theft of two powerful rings that my team investigated. We eventually found him, and we fought in the old Canterlot mountain mines. Connie blew up some explosives which collapsed a part of a tunnel on us. I barely survived thanks to rocks getting stuck above me and the help of my divinity, and we assumed Arcane Hex got crushed. Magic or not, he was an old unicorn. As far as I know, the investigators didn’t find a body, because digging in the old mines could collapse far bigger chunk of the central shaft. Celestia was supposed to order the remaking of Canterlot castle protective wards after that, but in light of Arcane Hex’s death she must have opted just to see if they weren’t openly compromised,” Cromach facetalons, “We need to get back to Canterlot. Magnus-”

“Yeah yeah, whatever gets you out of here the quickest,” the archmage waves his foreleg, “Come on. I happen to have a secret portal in Ponyville.”

“Wish Celestia could have sent us that way instead of to Zeph’s,” I sigh.

“A changeling should understand what secret means...” grumbles Magnus.

“Where does it lead?” asks Cromach, “I wouldn’t want to end up in the city vault or something.”

“Twilight’s library,” he shrugs, “I have to keep an eye on that idiot. She’s the kind of pony who would cause an apocalypse during her research just to see what happens. Plus, you know, as the original alicorn of Magic, I feel obliged to track her progress.”

Several floating mirrors appear in the air, each taller than me and wider than Cromach’s shoulders, they shift around Magnus, and all but one disappear.

“Thank you for the visit. Now get the fuck out, and don’t come back unless the world is ending, in which case I would already know,” guided by the motion of Magnus’s foreleg, the mirror floats in front of us.

“You first,” I nod at Cromach. He touches it, and disappears.

I do the same, everything blurs, and I momentarily lose connection to Three. Only for a while, though.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” the first thing I hear is a horrified mare’s scream of pain.


***


Five jumps out of a portal, feeling a fraction of a microsecond of shock as her hooves touch soft grass, and she can smell the fresh air of a spring in the Crystal Empire. Of course, this isn’t the Crystal Empire, but the area she can see, while still surrounded by the strange blurred mountains in the distance and under blood-red sky, is a beautiful, grassy flatland with a forest behind her. No rivers of blood, no magma pools inside a technologically advanced complex, no groaning or growling, only a beautiful, fresh landscape.

She sniffs, and narrows her eyes.

There is the faint but unmistakable heavy mix of scents related to sex in all forms, a changeling like her would recognize it anywhere. It contains everything from parfumes, the smell of heat, sweat, juices, aphrodisiacs, and to Five even the air here is like… food.  

The others appear behind her, looking around with equal amount of confusion. However, as changelings, the mind strictly made to instantly analyze battlegrounds has finished its inspection by the time the infiltrators had time to take a breath, and Five has trasmitted her assumptions about the area to the others.

“We made it to the succubus Pit,” confirms Ten based on Five’s observations, mostly for Stompy and WooD.

Five licks her lips, looks into the distance at a palace with tall, thin towers covered in pink mist, pulls out a rocket launcher from her beard, and fastens it to her back. The lust permeating the whole place is making her whole body tingle. In fact, all three changelings look as if green sparks were arcing through their carapaces from time to time now. 

“I’m tired of this,” she growls, ”I’ve got a weapon fully loaded with phallic shapes, and I’m not afraid to use it. Keep your eyes peeled.”

It doesn’t take long to reach the high walls and closed gate of the palace. What stops them, though, is some twenty pony-lengths wide “moat” which makes Ten’s eyes widen.

There’s no water in it, no blood, magma, nor semen as one would expect of this place. There are butts. A floating river of butts. Just disembodied butts of all sizes and shapes, sometimes with parts of thighs. Not chopped butts, or some corpse remains, just soft, fleshy, squishy, perfect-

Ten dives in and buries his muzzle into a crack of a huge, smooth one, nuzzling and motorboating it. Motorbooty-ing maybe? The fleshy mass grips him, his legs immediately being dragged deeper int othe spaces between the butts.

“TEN?!” Five yells, stunned by Ten’s sudden motion.

“Go without me! Let my sacrifice be a warning to you about the dangers of this place!” yells Ten, his voice muffled by the fact that he’s rolled over to a clearly pony butt to the side, its cheeks bigger than his head.

Five floats above him, and tries to grab his barrel. A golden kick of telekinesis flicks her forelegs away.

“Get a grip, Ten!” she raises her voice, and tries again, her forelegs slipping on the telekinetic shield again, “Just let me grab you!”

“No, it’s over for me, there’s too much squishy, soft, supple, and gripping flesh dragging me down! You could get caught too,” Ten pulls one of his hooves up, only to squeeze a sporty, toned booty floating by.

“I can levitate you up!” says Seven, his horn flashing green. Ten’s golden light deflects Seven’s attempt as well, “Oh come on!” 

“No, there’s no time. With every word, the chance of saving Six is growing fainter,” replies Ten, giving Seven an absolutely insane glare as his jaw is open, drooling green saliva over the nearby plots and butts, some of which can’t belong to ponies, not that it matters to Ten.

Seven tries to pull Ten again, who grabs a butt the size of his torso, and rolls under it, only his groping forelegs and crazy face visible.

“Oh nooooo,” Ten exclaims, “I’m doomed, the pull is getting too strong for telekinesis. Go on while you still can!”

“STOP THINKING WITH YOUT DICK, TEN! SIX IS WAITING AND STOMPY CAN SHOOT YOU A HOOK AND PULL YOU OUT!” screams Five from the top of her lungs.

Ten blinks multiple times, growls, tries to pull himself out…

...and a butt hits him. It’s a glorious white one, complete with the solar cutie mark, only bigger, rounder, softer yet tighter for its size, and its hair smoother than anything Celestia could ever be. Ten’s eyes glaze over.

“I WAS DEAD ALREADY, FIVE! THAT ONE’S BIGGER AND FIRMER THAN CELESTIA’S! IF YOU TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME I’LL HAUNT YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR SORRY LIFE, FLAT-ASS!”

The butt sinks under thousands of others, dragging Ten resisting only all attempts at saving him lodged in its crack down into the fleshy mass with it. His hive link dissolves into a pink mess of uncontrolled lust and pleasure infesting both Five and Seven who have to cut their connections to stop themselves from turning into drooling, sex-crazed maniacs here and now.

A shiver runs down Five’s spine as she realizes that the danger of this place doesn’t have to be in bigger and deadlier demons. No, the true enemies here are their own demons and desires.

“I’m not flat, am I?” she mutters, turning her head back to look at her butt. It’s tight, yet big enough for an efficient warrior. 

“Six loves you no matter what,” Seven, floating next to her, pats her shoulder.

Five’s chitin flashes, and her chiseled posterior balloons out a little, and turns rounder. Maybe some more cushion without losing strength would be worth it. Perhaps she could also narrow her waits, grow proper hanging breasts, thicker lips…

She shakes her head, realizing that this place got to her through her doubts. If she let her thoughts wander, she would use her shapeshifting skills to end up like a bloated sex doll for Six or anyone willing to use her...

With a deep breath, she tries to concentrate on the mission. She keeps her new plot, though.

“Focus on duty, focus on the hive,” she says, her realization and message seeping into Seven, “I’m doing this for Six, for Six, for Six. He will rail me as much as I want when we get home. Everyone alive will return to the hive. I will not fail the boss, I will not fail One, I will not fail Six. I will not fail MYSELF.”

Five aims her rocket launcher at the ornate gate behind the moat, gritting her teeth.

“What are you-”

Four explosions send the twisted metal into the revealed palace courtyard, ripping the gate to shreds along with its hinges.

Scowling, Five reloads, and enters the courtyard, not giving a single glance to the others.

“I will kill everyone between me and Six,” she growls.

Behind her, with the help of Seven’s telekinesis, Stompy’s energy jets help him fly over the butt moat, and WooD’s powerful wings take him with his plasma gun and power armor across as well.

The courtyard is lively and pleasant, like a garden promenade with many snaking trails, erotic statues and pleasure demons using them as toys, filled benches, pools with couples or groups enjoying themselves, and overall nice atmosphere of eternity of casual sex with infinite stamina. On the other side of the courtyard lies a big, wooden gate leading into the palace itself. Amusingly, the only one with the knowledge of the used architecture heavy on domes and tall, narrow towers is agent WooD who would identify it as being from the states on the southeastern border of the Griffon Empire, the old Maresia. It, however, is also a scene of somewhat controlled chaos, which for once doesn’t seem to be caused by the changelings.

Correction - not by Five’s group of changelings. 

As previously stated, there are succubi, incubi, and their victims dragged here, all of various shapes doing inspiring, inventive, and doubtlessly pleasurable things to each other, or using anything that can be stuck where it should or even shouldn’t go. Five gives a raised eyebrow to a red, furry, bipedal succubus sliding down a lamp post with her legs spread, the lit lamp showing its progress through the demonette’s skin where it eventually leaves through her mouth, finally muffling the female’s pleased moaning. No blood, no death, no concern for inner organs, just pure pleasure.

That’s the essence of the succubus palace.

As for the chaotic part…

“Comfort?” Seven blinks several times, completely taken aback by Comfort in her changeling form running around, pink gateways bursting out of pentagrams appearing behind her every few seconds.

“NOT NOW, BUSY!” she runs around a golden pony incubus sitting on a bench and reading a book, his leathery wings spread as a unicorn mare services his nether regions. He looks up in confusion…

…then Comfort’s kick sends him and his paramour tumbling right into the open portal which swallows them.

Another one opens in the next instant.

“CRAAAAAAP! WHY AM I SO GOOD AT MY JOB?!” Comfort backflips into a pool, the pink glow of the reopening portal shines through the shallow water, and in the next moment the portal swallows the water as well as the two frolicking succubi inside like a drained bathtub. Comfort manages to crawl out on the grass despite the pull, and takes a breath of relief as no portal opens within the next ten seconds this time, “That took forever...”

She looks up when she spots two sets of changeling legs, and two more metallic sets approach her.

“Comfort? What are you doing here?” asks Five on reflex.

“I’m a succubus, take a wild guess,” Comfort pushes herself back on all fours, and looks around with undisguised paranoia, “Hmmm, sixteen closed summonings this time. Anyway, the real question is why you are here, right?” she furrows her brows when looking at WooD, “Hey, don’t I know you?”

“Agent WooD. I met you in the pony Castle of Two Sisters,” replies WooD calmly, “You tried to seduce me. You failed.”

“Oh riiiiight… soooo, big guy, wanna try round tw-”

“No,” WooD shoots her down instantly, “I’m obliged to assist these changelings in their mission, then I’m going back to the Griffon Empire. I can’t afford any further distractions.” 

“Some succubus kidnapped Six,” explains Five, “I want to find him and bring him back. I was asking about you running from the portals, not you being here.”

“Oh, I see. I don’t know how to reject summonings, so whenever some happen, I just try to grab the nearest demon and throw them through the gate instead,” she points at WooD, “Anyway, I get you, Seven, and Stompy being here, but that guy?” 

“I gave him One’s sword,” Five shrugs, “I will apologize to her and the boss later, and face my punishment. If we get Six back, it’s worth it. I’m not returning without him.”

“Say no more,” Comfort smiles, and pats Five’s head, “Besides, now that Silversmith technology research is legal in Brauheim again, the dwarves will make a better sword soon anyway. Let’s go save tech bug.”

A silvery, equine succubus with coat so smooth it looks and must feel like oil trails the tip of her wing on what’s technically Stompy’s underbelly.
 
“Got some attachments that would sate poor old me?” she asks, voice dripping like honey.

“My chassis is a war machine. I wasn’t equipped with anything of that sort,” replies Stompy.

“Hmm, that won’t do,” the succubus pouts. Her whole body starts glowing, and after a short while Stompy senses a new addition to his undercarriage, “Now this is something the demons here don’t have.”

Without a second thought, she turns around and impales herself on Stompy’s new equipment.

To the mech’s utter surprise, the entire act does feel somewhat pleasant despite the fact that there are no nerves or artifical brain constructs to convey the feeling. Deciding that since the succubus deserves something for not being hostile, he puts his attachment to the test.

The tip of his robothood flares, locking the succubus firmly in place. Stompy examines the new algorhitms - multi-motor vibrations, heating and cooling, electricity, spinning… so many tests to run later. Unfortunately, it would be too difficult to find a test subject of size that could take his new gear in the real world, so he decides to just turn everything on at once while the succubus is available.

“Oh my ghnghghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” the succubus’ eyes cross, her jaw drops, and she goes completely limp within a second, drooling and gurgling, “Iwannastaylikethisforeverrrrrrr...”

“Interesting,” comments Stompy, turning back towards the group with his succubus cargo making silly noises under him.

“Put it back, you don’t know where it’s been,” Comfort rolls her eyes at Stompy, but can’t help smirking at the succubus whose intelligence is rapidly melting out of her mouth and crotch, “Thought I doubt they have some robot STD around.”

“I am testing my new carrying capacity as well,” replies Stompy simply, “I should have conclusive results in several minutes.”

“I’mmmm g’nnna splode with happy...” the succubus keeps drooling.

“Fine, let’s go then,” Comfort shrugs, “Look, the current succubus queen who took over after Scream disappeared will know where Six is. She’s inside the palace, but even I couldn’t get in before. She’s obscenely powerful while she’s in there, and very well guarded.”

Five pats her rocket launcher.

“We’ll figure out a way.”

“No no no no,” says a calm, female voice which nonetheless spreads all over the courtyard, “You’ve made enough mess all over the place already, so I say this ends here and now.” 

“Now that’s a commanding and confident voice if ever I heard one,” Comfort smiles, “I guess you’ve managed to lure the head slut out.”

The group look around as they hear now unpleasantly familiar heavy thudding intertwined with the buzzing of electronics of steps reminiscent of the spider mastermind. This sound is slightly different, as if this time the walker had only two legs, and was a lot heavier.

The ornate gold-decorated gate leading inside the succubus palace opens, letting out a massive biped that would put whatever god the minotaurs worship to shame. Granted, considering that Rift minotaurs worship a pony that isn’t the best description, but if the minotaurs worshipped a huge version of one of them with limbs and torso enhanced by electronics and armor plating, this would be it. A huge demon with cybernetic enhancements - a cyberdemon. On his shoulder sits a bipedal figure the size and broadness of a minotaur warrior, but clearly not built for fighting, unless one counts the sweaty wrestling of the bed kind. Five has to admit that the bipedal form gives a lot more space for breasts, hair, long legs, and toned abs than pony form would, which is why so many succubi around seem to prefer those. She decides to try it on Six at some point.

The succubus flies into the air with the help of two pink, bat-like wings, and points at the group. With her other arm, she makes a circle in the air. In a flash of light, a golden cage appears, hosting a comparatively very small, black, curled-up shape.

“SIX!” screams Five. The changeling doesn’t move.

“Well, well, well, a quest for love and lust, soon to be failed,” the succubus queen chuckles, “This little critter is mine now. My little pet to train, to get him addicted to everything about me, to-”

“Stop monologuing at us, you dumb bitch,” calls out Comfort, “Now that you’ve finally hauled your comically oversized ass here, you will teach me how to refuse summonings, and since we’re here already, you will give Six back before I get really mad.”

The succubus queen now starts openly laughing.

“Oh my, the newbie has a sharp tongue,” she clicks her teeth, “You are nothing, worm! You don’t get to speak in my presence!” she snaps her fingers.

“Okay, that does it!” Comfort snarls, “Let’s see how-” her mouth doesn’t stop moving, there’s just no noise coming out. Comfort stops after a second, scowling.

“Much better,” the queen riding the towering cyberdemon stops in front the group slowly fanning out and backing off, “Now, two changelings and a machine that can cause so much pleasure it has turned a succubus into a drooling piece of meat is quite the catch-”

“I don’t have time for this,” hears Five from WooD who has shuffled close to her. She turns her head, and sees only his armored fist approaching her at lightning speed. The second of confusion is enough for WooD to shove his foreleg into her beard, and rip out the BFG. The griffon grins as he aims the huge weapon at the demon, “FOR THE EMPEROR!”

The BFG hums. The cyberdemon looks down from his height.


*WHOOMMMMMMM!*


The green ball of fusion energy cast by the BFG blasts the cyberdemon’s torso, leaving behind only a crescent moon of flesh and machinery remaining, the rest of his chest completely gone. The huge demon looks down at the hole where his torso used to be, and collapses, unable to bear his own weight...

“Whaaaaaah!”

...right onto the succubus queen.

The gilded cage containing Six softly floats down to the group, held by Seven’s telekinesis.

Six raises his head as Five grabs two bars, heaves, and rips them off.

“Six...” Five’s eyes tear up as the drone walks out of the cage, and she pulls him into an irresistible hug, “I don’t just love you. I need you.”

Six yawns, and nuzzles her neck. 

“You came for me, and you even blew up the big guy, woop woop!” he punches the air in cheer after taking in the situation.

“It’s WooD,” the griffon agent measures Six whose eyes go wide in recollection.

“Ohcrap!” he blurts out.

“Don’t worry, he’s on our side now,” Five kisses Six’s nose, making him beam immediately.

“How… lovely...” they hear a loud hiss which bears the quality of ‘being heard everywhere no matter its real volume’ which belongs to the succubus queen, “The pain and suffering I will train you to love and crave will be legendary!” her hands glow bright red, and crimson lightning courses through the body of the cyberdemon, “RISE!”

The lightning intensifies, coursing through the hole in the demon’s chest, flesh regrowing with alarming speed as the demon gets up on both legs as if nothing happened, and aims the rocket launcher fastened ot his right arm at WooD.

“SCATTER!” screams Five, grasping for Six who avoids her foreleg and flies into the air.

Remembering that the majority of the group can fly freely, the other changelings and WooD take to the air as well. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work for Stompy. The first rocket hits the ground where WooD used to be, exploding into a ball of fire and shrapnel which reaches the mech. When the localized inferno dissipates, though, a pink shield surrounding Stompy which apparently protected him from the shockwave and heat disappears. The drooling succubus with her eyes rolled to the back of her head still impaled and buzzing on Stompy’s mecha dong just weakly raises one arm and gives him a thumbs up. 

In response, Stompy aims his twin particle beams. Not at the cyberdemon, though.

“Suppressing fire,” he says, hitting the succubus queen quickly casting a protective barrier while being pushed through the air. She immediately tries to dodge and weave, but Stompy’s targeting is perfect, not giving her a second to retaliate.

The cyberdemon is spitting out rocket after rocket at WooD, missing and slowly breaking the outer walls protecting the courtyard. His presence and berserker rage have finally broken through the haze of lust of other demons in the courtyard gardens who stop watching the spectacle and start escaping anywhere far enough to be safe.

Five lands again to gain some support as she aims her rocket launcher again, and unloads at the cyberdemon’s leg, making him stumble and giving WooD time to recover from his constant barrel rolls and darting around.

As the griffon shakes his head, the cyberdemon screams, aiming the rocket launcher at Five. He unloads another salvo of seemingly infinite amount of rockets, but hitting Five with such projectiles as she jumps up and takes to the sky quickly proves downright impossible, so he aims at WooD, much slower in his heavy power armor, again.

In complete silence, Comfort flies behind the succubus queen completely focused on Stompy and grabs the ball of energy which is the barrier surrounding her. The queen turns around, and scowls at Comfort.

“You worthless creature,” she raises her hand glowing with pink, and points at Comfort, “I am your superior, you will obey me, my beauty, my perfection! You will drool over me, lust over me, beg me to notice you. My touch, even my breath will send you deeper into your haze of need. I am the reason for your existence, reason why you take every breath. I am the supreme being of desire. I allow you to speak now so that you can beg to keep some part of your miserable free will.”

Comfort snickers.

“You do realize I actually met Scream who was your boss and the patron of changelings face to face, right? The actual embodiment of Lust?” she presses her forelegs against the barrier, gritting her teeth, “THAT was when all my self-control, all my instincts, every mental skill I spent my life honing, everything that made me myself crumbled after only few seconds. It’s time you learned something, head slut,” the succubus queen looks at her outstretched hand in horror as the pink glow begins draining into Comfort, “I might not be the king or queen completely on top and in charge,” Comfort’s eyes glow with golden light as the changeling succubus begins drawing the pure sexual energy this reality consists of, “But I am always, ALWAYS the leader’s number one.”

The succubus queen’s barrier disappears, devoured by Comfortnow  emanating shockwaves of power to burn off the lust she’s constantly draining from the area so that the queen can’t use her full power.

With a simple flick of Comfort’s hoof and a loud boom, the queen shoots through the air like a comet, and…

...is caught by the palm of the cyberdemon with a fleshy slap. His fingers wrap around her.

“Hey, miss Comfort,” she hears Six’s voice inside her head, “Since you’re so powerful, can you do the same thing that succubus did to Stompy to the cyberdemon?”

“Wait, what?” Comfort blinks, and stops the hive link time. She looks through Six’s eyes, only to see him holding onto the huge demon’s neck, six spider legs protruding from his back and fiddling with a blinking panel on the demon’s spine, “Six, what are you doing?”

“Pleeeeeeeease!” is all Six says.

Comfort shrugs, and concentrates. This place is made from divinity mixed with natural forces of lust and magic, and answers to the call of her willpower. A massive, twisted and ribbed tower of flesh and metal erupts from the cyberdemon’s crotch. He looks at the succubus queen in his palm watching the scene in horror.

“No! NO! I RULE HERE, I WON’T BE USED AS A COCK SLEEVE LIKE SOME COMMON FRESH SUCCUB- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARHGHHHH!”

The cyberdemon roars and proves the unbelievably stretchy queen wrong.

Six closes the panel on the cyberdemon’s back, flies up on his shoulder, points at the landscape now completely cratered and ruined from the fired missiles, and says:

“Now be a good boy, and while you’re playing with the ex-queen go find someone who knows how to repair all this, okay?” the cyberdemon nods, casually jerking off with the gurgling and foaming queen whose body keeps denying all laws of anatomy and physics, “AND YOU! YOU WANTED TO FUCK SOMETHING SO MUCH ALL THE TIME? THEN THIS IS WHAT YOU GET! ALL I WANTED WAS A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP!”

With the cyberdemon stomping away, Six and Comfort fly down to the gathering rescue party.

“What did you do?” asks Five in astonishment.

Six shrugs.

“I’ve had five years of advanced engineering with Hard Reset, and that guy was about as pissed off at the queen for not giving him any as I was for not letting me sleep. When I took the electronic bit connected to his spine that looked control-y and enslave-y, it was fifty-fifty chance of him either collapsing outright or finding a better target than you,” with a slow buzz of his wings, he climbs onto Five’s back, yawns again, and lowers his head on her more cusiony butt than he recalls it being, “Mmmm, much better...”

Five opens her mouth to say something, and realizes that now that they’re mostly safe, Six is already asleep again. 

“Seven, the returning ritual?” she whispers instead.

“Oh… right!” he blinks, finding it difficult to process that their journey is over. He closes his eyes, and starts gathering energy in his horn.

Stompy stops vibrating his new intimate attachment, and slowly retracts it into space the transformation spell created for it. The extremely pleased succubus slides off, moaning a low: “Nuuuuuhhhh, wnna mooooore...”

WooD gives the BFG a longing look, shakes his head, and shoves the ultimate weapon back into Five’s beard.

“My mission was to find the sword for the Emperor,” he mutters to himself, “Not this.”

“Comfort, are you coming with us?” Five asks the changeling succubus who shakes her head.

“Nah, I still have to find someone to help me control the summonings. If queen cock sock was right and it’s about seniority, not power, then I’ve got few arrangements to make. But still, you helped me open the gate to the palace, got the queen to leave her seat of power and be vulnerable, so I can go in and see if there’s someone willing to share their knowledge, or unwilling for the matter,” Comfort pats Five’s head, “You did good, flower pot. Even that miscasting idiot over there,” she points at Seven pouring more and more power to the opening portal back to the real world, “But if I were you, I would let your rank show now.”

“Comfort, I’m just a warrior. I serve the hive,” Five lowers her head.

“No, you are Five, and individual. You have hobbies, you have a lover, and you have a personality. You are not an identity-less changeling. You don’t need to show off, you just need to stop suppressing it. You love the hive and Six, you love the boss, and you are part of the family, not its nameless, disposable protector.”

Five closes her eyes, and smiles. When she opens them again, the bright blue changeling eyes are gone, replaced with fiery orange, slit pupils. In a burst of green, long tail sprouts from her back, reaching all the way to the ground and sharply contrasting with her new eyes. Her mane grows into a short mohawk which, like her tail, is bright, pristine white.

“Hmmm,” grumbles Five, “Just more things for enemies to grab me by.”

“Or something for Six to gently run his hoof through,” Comfort kisses her nose, and turns around, walking away without care, “Welp, my job is done here, and so is yours. By the way, don’t break his pelvis immediately after he wakes up.”

Five takes a deep breath, and walks over to Seven, soft smile on her muzzle.

“Ready?” she asks.

“Yep,” red circle surrounds all of them, and in a flash of light, they are gone.

On the other side of the courtyard, the cyberdemon scratches his fully regrown chest, remembering the worthy nemesis who nearly destroyed him, and uses his free hand with the attached rocket launcher to carve few letters on the wall.


“The WooD slayer.”



***


The scream of pain drives away my now usual dizziness following teleportation, and my eyes immediately focus on the scene in front of me.

An alicorn mare is lying on the smooth floor of this strange library made of crystal, groaning while trying to get back on her fours against a black beam sparking with red lightning. It’s the purple princess… Twilight something… Sparkle, yes. I should remember these things by now for diplomatic reasons. The ceiling-high, crystal shelves by the walls stacked with books are similar to the design of Magnus’ lab, and considering that no books are lying scattered on the sparkling floor, the attack must have been a complete surprise for Twilight.

Of course, I know about the other equine figure wearing a brown robe on the other side of the black beam, and if Cromach’s guess was correct, I now know its name.

“Hey, Hex, you look like shit!” Cromach rolls the highest for initiative, and rushes towards the lich.

“Cromach,” the skeletal mage’s reaction speed fueled by raw magic is enough to turn his beam spell from Twilight to Cromach before the griffon reaches him.

The griffon feels it immediately, the cold grip and pull of power trying to rip out a part of him. The dark magic invasive enough to send alicorns to their knees, to rob them of their essence, to end their purpose. What chance does he, a griffon, have against something of that magnitude? He drops on his knees, his strength leaving him.

No, Arcane Hex isn’t stealing a part of him, at least not only a part of him. 

Cromach growls, green lightning coursing through him in response to the black beam,

“No! Blaze knew that there’s imprint of the user in their divinity, their memories, themselves,” Cromach hisses, “YOU CAN TAKE THE POWER, BUT YOU AREN’T STEALING HIM FROM ME!” shielding himself with his wings crackling with lightning, he begins raising himself back on all fours. Hex’s jaw drops, and if he had eyes, they would be going wide.

I charge at the lich, gathering love into my hooves. In my wake, Three rushes towards Twilight in a roundabout, safer way.

I see a fiery flash, and drop on the smooth floor. My momentum makes me slide under a burning whip appearing out of nowhere which cracks in the air, and sends out sparks charring the floor around and shooting out small bolts of lightning. One flies off, hitting Three who flies away as if kicked, and lands under a table in the center of the library. I don’t have time to check up on him, only for a quick mental touch through his hive link which feels distorted and confused.

I’m right by Arcane Hex, and slash up with my foreleg. My signature burning love blade crackles against his protective barrier, and to a moment of my own shock it goes through, hacking several of his ribs off along with his robe.

He glances down at me, his skeletal expression unreadable.

“I will wait for him forever if I have to!” I hear, and turn my head to see Cromach teleporting to Hex, his talons already around the lich’s horn. The bone breaks like a dry twig as Cromach twists his foreleg, and with a swipe of his other foreleg he tears the lich’s head off.

The skeleton shatters and disappears. Sinister laughter pierces the air.

“You are quite an enigma, Cromach. Maybe I should have started with you directly instead of the alicorns,” Arcane Hex rematerializes along with his robe on the central table.

“You tried,” with a crack of lightning, a double-headed axe appears at Cromach’s side, and the griffon throws it at the lich as if it weighed nothing. It shatters the figure again.

The bones disappear, and just like before, the lich is back on top of the central table right where he stood.

“Hnnngh!” I hear from underneath.

Three, glowing with love, kicks off the table leg which tilts the desk, making Hex stumble forward towards Cromach whose axe has returned and which he’s now holding like a baseball bat.

His strike shatters Hex again.

“I can do this all day,” he taunts the lich reappearing…

...right behind Three. He telekinetically pulls him from under the table, and tosses him against the wall with speed and power the little guy can’t be ready for.

I have to catch him. Enhancing my legs and chitin, I jump. He hits me, immediately changing my trajectory and ramming me against a bookshelf. I cough, feeling my secondary plating crack in multiple places.

“Three?” is all I can mentally ask with breath knocked out of me despite my carapace.

“Owowowowww...” he just moans.

Cromach sees the chitin shards scatter all over the library from the crushing impact, but running to help isn’t an option. 

“GUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARDS!” he screams from the top of his lungs. He doesn’t know if Twilight’s home actually has any, but there’s a chance Hex who might have been out of the loop for a year doesn’t know either.

Hex clicks his teeth, and swings his foreleg vertically down. A rift that immediately makes Cromach’s head ache appears, following the lich’s hoof, and lets in three slithering shadows.

Hex points at Cromach.

“Get him.”

The rapidly multiplying shadows pause…

...and then swarm around Hex, covering him from head to hooves.

“What?!” hears Cromach, tilting his head in surprise.

A loud pop follows, and the shadows scatter. Arcane Hex is nowhere to be found, and in his absence, the shadows crawling out of the rift focus on the four other targets in the room.

“Hey, boss bug! Think you can cover me and Twilight for a while?”

I grunt, pushing myself up and feeling my lungs burn. Everything hurts. I haven’t felt like this… since the dark priest poison?

Three is curled up under a pile of fallen books, still dazed but somewhat safe.

“Hold my beard,” I choke out, and charge through the shadows feeling like slime as they crumble under my burning hooves.

“Starbutt, little help?” Cromach softly kicks Twilight. She can’t get up, and only groans as a purple bolt of energy from her horn sends the nearest shadow tumbling into others, “That’ll have to do, I suppose.”

Cromach looks into the rift, forcing his eyes on it. It’s not black, or white, or grey, it’s simply… the wrong kind of nothing, and it brings back memories. Memories of tentacles ripping the sky in two and clawing into this reality, memories of eyeballs everywhere, watching his every move, but most importantly…

...the memory of one bronze alicorn high up into the sky facing the crawling horror creeping into this world on his own, the memory of him pushing the insane god back, and finally… the memory of the god purifying him, destroying his divinity, and blowing him up in a blinding supernova lighting the sky.

“I’ll make sure you didn’t die in vain, love,” Cromach’s eyes tear up, “We closed that hole, and we’ll close this one too. Harmony won’t come back this way.”

Rearing on his hind legs, he spreads his forelegs. Tendrils of green energy connect his talons to the edges of the void rift hungrily devouring the offered power, and he begins pulling his forelegs together.

The shadows screech as they somehow feel the rift closing, and try to swarm Cromach. That makes things a lot easier for Twilight and myself, since all we need to do is just blindly hack or shoot.

After several seconds of screeching berserker rage of the shadows, the rift closes.

“Huh, so that’s what Magnus meant by wishing,” Cromach chuckles between gasps for breath, “Good job, Beardo, Starbutt.”

His legs are shaking, and he’s dripping with sweat, but there’s a new, mad smile on his beak.

“What do we do now?” I ask, limping back to dig Three out the pile of books.

“I say we take Purple Smart to Canterlot, tell everyone that Arcane Hex is behind the attacks, and punch Celestia in the face for not completely rebuilding the damn protective wards after last year like everyone told her to. Oh, and you’re getting some credit for diplomatically saving princess plot again. Even though it’s the smallest one. Hey, do you think princess seniority comes from ass size, or is the booty spreading a sign of age like those circles inside trees?”

I just shake my head. I don’t have a better plan, I don’t have a smartass answer. Hole, I can barely think at all. We won here, but I don’t think we inflicted any actual damage to the lich. How do we stop someone who seemingly can’t be killed and can get anywhere?


***


The snow reaching up to Five’s knees, the biting cold of a snowstorm raging here even in summer, and the immobile weight of Six on her back make the warrior smile.

“Detecting familiar signals,” reports Stompy, “We’re on the surface near home.”

“How about you work on your targeting, Seven, before I decide to practice mine?” Five raises an eyebrow, but her remaining smile helps put Seven at ease.

The three changelings and the mech materialized in a triangle around WooD, which suits Five just fine, and the griffon agent finds himself facing the two barrels of a Five’s shotgun.

“I knew trusting changelings was a bad idea,” the griffon scowls.

“I can’t have you talking about Brauheim. Anywhere. I don’t know how you survived the magma stream we threw you into, and judging by the state of your power armor I doubt you left and came back. You spent a lot of time observing the dwarf city and tracking us.”

“I spent too long looking for the Sword of the First Emperor to risk it now,” WooD looks Five straight in the eyes.

Five watches him, listens to his breathing, observes his body language in the best way she can. She’s not an infiltrator, so the information she can gain up here is limited.

She’s a warrior, though.

Returning her shotgun into her beard, she turns around.

“Seven, Stompy, we’re going home. I hope I never see you again, WooD.”

Without a word, the griffon checks a compass built into the armor on his left foreleg, and starts walking away past Seven and Stompy into the blizzard.

“Five?” asks Seven internally, “Do you really think we can trust him?”

“I’m a warrior, and so is he. He will keep his word.”