//------------------------------// // Succession Wars by Shadowstorm of QQ [Canon?] // Story: An ANGERY Journey to become King (Title WIP) // by Nightmare723764 //------------------------------// For some reason, I kept looking towards the East. Something was drawing me in… But I couldn’t see anything that could be doing it, not even when I looked through the highest window I managed to find. It was simply… irritating. Meanwhile, in the Badlands. Blood and ashes covered the desolate Plains. Sand obscured the vision, with flashes of emerald and cerulean occasionally piercing the clouds. Pieces of black and grey chitin covered the rocks, mixed with the iridescent green of insectoid blood. All manners of beings were fighting, seemingly with no lines drawn, no order, no allies. And yet, when they fell, those forms faded in a flash, leaving behind only ponylike insectoids, broken and dying. In the middle of this battle, for it was nothing less, was a maelstrom of energy and violence. Two beings fought, with nothing but the other mattering. The combatants’ forms changed each second, different weapons, different tools formed, used, countered and discarded in a flash. Any soldier that dared venture too close was gone in a flash, destroyed, or devoured to fuel the next transformation. And yet, as the seconds turned to minutes, it became clear that one of the combatants was becoming less and less capable to keep up, forced on the defensive more and more. Until it happened. A simple mistake, and a pair of large pincers, akin to those of a Hercules beetle, closed over their neck. With a sickening crunch the head rolled on the ground, cerulean flames engulfing it, only to leave behind a grey head akin to that of a pony, the eyes staring into nothing, the jagged horn broken from the impact, and the crown-like antena drooping. The rest of the body stayed still for a moment before it reverted to its original form, fly-like wings flapping before it collapsed on the ground. Green flames engulfed their adversary, revealing a similar form, only black in color. And all around them, the fight stopped, the effect spreading like a ripple through the two armies. One staring at their leader in triumph, the other at the corpse in horror. At an unseen, unheard command, the black insectoids resumed attacking those who did not switch sides, who did not paint their chitin in the color of their enemy. It was a matter of minutes before black triumphed over grey, with the victor of the duel laughing maniacally, green blood dripping from their fangs as they tore into their opponent’s flesh. The Succession Wars were over. Long live the Queen of Changelings. Long live Queen Chrysalis. Suddenly, the strange feeling I was having disappeared. Huh… That was odd. Oh well. Perhaps it was nothing important. With a shrug I hopped off the windowsill and back in the room. I still had my magic lessons...