Chrysalis recognized the callous caress of flattened rock and dirt long before she ever opened her eyes. She scrunched her nose, pushing back against the assaulting stench of wet earth. Somewhere in the dark distance, water dripped; a perfect mimicry of a ticking clock. With a deep breath, she peeled herself from her stone bed, staggering upward with the grace of a drunkard lying in the gutter.
The cave stretched on endlessly in front of her, lit by the fading green shimmer of gems embedded in the walls. Without knowing why, she pressed forward into the gaping maw. Stone columns pressed inward from the ceiling and floor: sharpened teeth inviting the changeling closer with a devilish grin.
She stumbled out of the dark into a massive chamber. Dozens of similarly featureless tunnels spun out in every direction. On the ceiling, larger variations of the same green crystals were embedded into gaps in the rock, casting the room in a deathly green light. A sickening familiarity washed over Chrysalis.
Following her instincts, she chose a tunnel on the left. As she walked, she timed each step with the splash of the omnipresent dripping. Her eyes drifted closed, casting away the deception of sight. Devoting her focus to the rest of her senses, she heard the buzzing of insect wings.
Her path finally ended at a set of monolithic iron gates. The familiar forms of changelings lined the engravings, all bowing in reverence to a central figure. A changeling queen. With a frustrated huff, Chrysalis kicked the doors open, revealing a seemingly endless hall.
Vaulted stone took the place of the sky, held aloft by impossibly proportioned pillars. The green crystals grew from the walls, illuminating the oppressive atmosphere. In the center of the room, an obsidian pillar rose from the floor, bearing a throne of finely hewn rock. A blood-red carpet welcomed the changeling’s approach.
Chrysalis recognized the room, of course. She spent most of her life here. She modeled her own throne room after it. A figure uncurled from the throne; her impressive stature hidden by the void.
A sultry voice boomed through the room.
“I was wondering when you would arrive, Chrysalis.”
“Forgive me. Next time, I’ll let the creatures of darkness know I’ve already got an appointment. I’m sure they’ll understand,” Chrysalis barked back.
“I see you have neglected your manners. Have you no decency, Child?”
“Not for you.”
The figure’s horn blazed green, unveiling the silhouette of the jagged, two-pointed horn sprouting from her forehead. A polished crown glittered in her deep blue mane.
“I see that. Do not worry, Dear. I shall take full responsibility for your failures. I should have known you required more thorough teaching.”
The beast rose from its throne, the dim light sending shadows swirling across her black shell. With unnatural poise, she glided down the stairs.
“I remember your lessons well. I still have the scars.”
Guided by centuries of survival, Chrysalis lowered herself.
“Then it seems you have forgotten the cost of disobedience. Perhaps I should remind you of that, instead?”
Chrysalis’ scars burned.
“I challenged you once, do you think I'm afraid to do so again?” Chrysalis threatened.
The creature laughed; a throaty, raspy cry that rattled the foundations of the mountain.
“Your body betrays your bravado, Chrysalis. You are trembling.”
The changeling could feel her hooves shaking, but she didn’t back down. She kept her gaze locked firmly on the approaching demon.
“I’m not afraid of you. Not anymore.”
She repeated the mantra in her head.
This was not real.
This could not be real.
Another raucous cackle shook the world. Chrysalis felt the blood in her veins freeze, paralyzing every fiber of her being.
I am quite real, Chrysalis . . .