//------------------------------// // 96- In The Hall Of The Mountain King // Story: Changing Expectations // by KKSlider //------------------------------// “– up now! Your Majesty, please! If you were hoping to wake up at the last second, now is the time!” One’s voice slowly rose from the blackness. I blinked my eyes open and looked up at One. He was very afraid, looking down at me as I lay on the floor. “One?” “Finally! Come on sir, we need you!” The room shook. “Ugh… what?” He pulled me up to my hooves and steadied myself against him. “The door, sir! They’re breaking through!” “Ah. The door. Okay, I can… ergh. I can put the armor on after. The door…” “This way, sir!” He yelled over a violent thud that shook the room, and started walking forward. Since I was still leaning on him and waking up, I was more or less pulled along with him. The other three changelings were rapidly throwing the remains of the armory against the door and melting the thin metal to form a makeshift barrier. Just as quickly, two black-covered shapes beyond were tearing through the door and barricade. “Alright, alright. ‘M awake… Let’s kill these fools. I’ve got a new spell just for the job. Good thing, too. I don’t think any written form of it would have survived after all these–” “Sir! Just kill them!” “Okay!” The changelings backed up as one of the monsters ripped off a chunk of the door. The remaining structure collapsed under the intensity of the attack. I recalled the spell that was burned into my memory, Panar’s Fury, and began to compile its thaumic components through my horn. “They’re breaking through!” Two yelled, pointing out the obvious. “One moment…” The monsters were now ripping apart the makeshift barricade that the changelings had hastily constructed out of the racks. The monsters, two changeling skeletons in stained-black silver armor, were splattering black goo on the walls, ceiling, and floor around them as they ripped out pieces using their goo-covered hooves. Then they got the bright idea of stopping using their hooves, and instead switching back to spells. I watched their boney, curved horns glow black as they charged a spell. Before they could release whatever fresh hell they were stewing in their misbegotten manapools, I unleashed my own spell. Panar’s Fury blasted out from my horn with an electronic-sounding CLASH. The red bolt of energy tore through the left skeleton, violently ripping apart its skull head and dissolving all of the black matter that covered the skeleton, from its horn to his hooves. The skeleton collapsed quietly into a pile of bones. “That’s not what happened in the–” A green shield fizzled into life in front of me, just in time to take a bolt of black plasma fired from the surviving skeleton. I heard a changeling scream out in pain as the shield immediately dropped. Wasting no time, I fired another bolt using the spell matrix I had already mentally constructed. The surviving skeleton survived no more, and I put two extra shots into each skeleton for good measure. The black goo residue left on the wall slowly began to shrink and burn away in an invisible fire. I turned my attention to the injured changeling. One was on the ground, clutching his horn and writhing in pain. Two and Three were looking over him, taking turns casting magical detection spells and scanning arrays. Four kept his eyes on the door. “Aorta, are you alright?” “By the Nine, it hurts!” He groaned. “You’ll be fine. I promise. The pain lets you know that you’re not dead. Help him to his hooves, and keep watching the door while I put on Unbroken Radiance, the armor we came here for.” I did not actually know if he would be fine in the end. I was a royal, and this infection seemed to treat me specially. Whether that meant I was more resistant to it, or less, I couldn’t tell. All I could hope– could pray– was that One would be alright, and that this infection wasn’t spread by magic. I retreated to the back of the room and carefully extracted Unbroken Radiance from Prince Carotid’s body. His remains tumbled out of the adamantium carapace, like two skeletons dancing on a tin roof. ‘Dancing? Or was it– ah, nevermind.’ I flipped the helmet around and put it on first. Then the barrel piece, and finally the boots. Overall, the armor was a size and a half too large for me. The helmet sagged lower on my head, stopped only by my horn. Then the entire armor set glowed orange– my orange, and shrunk down to fit me perfectly. “Oh. That’s… useful. Before I forget, I need you four to take the contents of my saddlebags. They won't fit over or under my armor, and I’d rather not leave my new spooky tomes behind.” I walked over and levitated my saddlebags over to the rest of the changelings and looked One over. “How are you feeling, Aorta?” “Ugh… Like someling just smacked me in the horn and dunked my head in slimy oil. Sir. Ow…” “No infection, we think,” Two said, preempting my question. “That’s right, because you’ll be fine. Just stay close to me, and I’ll get us all out of this place alive.” “We’re leaving, sir?” Four asked. “I think I might hear some movement from the main room, but so far nothing has come our way. Are we going to fight our way out?” “Y– hmmm…. I think we need to retrieve one more artifact, a branch-stave called Moth’s Illumination. If the infection gets out, or if we ever run into it again, we’re going to need it.” “Any idea where it is, sir?” Four asked, still looking through the remains of the barricade. “Wherever the Prophet took it in his final moments.” “The boss of these monsters, right?” One said between deep breaths. “Are we going towards danger, or away from it?” “... Probably towards it,” I answered. One sighed, “You royals always love diving headfirst into action.” “Panar wouldn’t have given us such thick skulls if we weren’t meant to. Come on, we’ve got a stick to fetch.” I pulled apart the remains of the barricade while I got used to the armor. My time with the Hooferville Guard had meant that I had some experience with platemail. However, that armor was far more limited in size and protection compared to Unbroken Radiance. This new set of armor was heavier, more magical, and somewhat restrictive in movement. The magic detail was important, as I could feel its enchantments if I concentrated hard enough. That meant that it could potentially throw me off if I ever tried to cast complex and precise spells, such as teleportation. Not that I would be doing that anyways. Teleportation was hard to master, and usually it left behind anything both magical and nonsapient. There were versions of the teleport spell that could bring everything along, but I suspected from my lack of adamantium peytral that the version I knew, unique in its fiery properties, tended to not play well with adamantium. With the path cleared, I took my time, shaking each hoof in their guards, rolling my head around in the armor. Sitting in the far end of the exterior room, the Divine Acqui something or other, was a corrupted Valkyrie. The two skeletons that I had blasted apart must have been their recruit rank, as they bore striking resemblance to the Valkyrie. The main difference being that the now smoking piles of metal and bone were changeling in size, and their armor was simple and sparse. This Valkyrie was big. It clawed its way across the room slowly, two forward limbs that ended in claws reached out and pulled it forward toward us. The entire thing consisted mostly of the inky black liquid that had flowed around and through all the skeletons we had seen so far. However, whereas with other skeletons we could actually see the skeletons, all that was visible of this one was mere suggestions of changeling anatomy, and pieces of silver armor sticking out of the monster. Its head, three times larger than that of a normal drone, had a hint of silver on the top– the Valkyrie’s helmet. An elongated muzzle of ink opened and closed as it pulled itself closer, dripping buckets of the infection onto the ground beneath its hunched form. Its horn, elongated to three feet long, dragged against the ceiling, ripping out a path of stone as it went. When I stepped into the room, the ink monster raised its equine-shaped head at me and blinked two glowing red eyes. Then it smiled, showing off teeth that never stayed still and a tongue that lolled out of its mouth– before entirely falling out and being replaced by more of the black goo. I heard the changelings shuffle up behind me and then immediately run back into the safety of the armory. “You are one ugly motherfucker, aren’t you? Proper nightmare fuel.” I backed up a pace as a clawed limb landed next to me. “Straight to business, then?” With a snarl of my own, I summoned the spell matrix of Panar’s Fury, and rained hell on the giant. Scores of its liquid flesh were burned and exploded away as bolts ripped through its body. The giant monster roared in pain as its massive sabre-like horn glowed pitch black, sucking the light from the entire room. I directed a shot at the horn directly, blowing the thing to smithereens, along with the top half of its head. However, instead of collapsing dead, the monster lifted one of its clawed limbs and smashed it down where I was standing. I lived only thanks to a last second sideways hop, throwing myself onto the ground. As it lifted its ink paw up and back to its side, I saw the head beginning to reform itself. “Sir! It’s not dead!” Four yelled from behind me. “I can see that, Four! For some reason, it's not taking its beating sitting down!” Three more Panar’s Fury bolts ripped into its chest, spraying a waterfall of goo onto the ceiling and wall behind it. The corrupted Valkyrie collapsed onto the ground. However, the head was still reforming. It swiped its closest arm at me, not even lifting it off of the ground as it did so. Half of the room was ripped apart and consumed into the wall of pitch black liquid as it swept forth. I didn’t dare shield or fire at the arm, instead taking to the air. I was not accustomed to the weight of the armor and as a result, my right hindleg hoof was hit by what would normally be the limb’s wrist. Jet black liquid stained the adamantium boot. The armor glowed orange as the liquid coalesced into veins of the black substance, and the veins immediately started thrashing about. Hoping that whatever ancient enchantments still in the armor were capable of fighting off the literal infection, I sent forth eight more bolts of holy light into the beast, violently blowing apart the two arms and much of the chest. The Valkyrie finally went limp. For a moment. Then, the ink that was sprayed across the walls, floor, and ceiling, began to flow back towards the giant’s prone form. “Boys! Get out of the armory! We need to get to The Prophet, and quick! I don’t think I can keep this thing dead!” The changelings stepped out from the armory and took to the air immediately, as to not step on the liquid infection that was sprayed all over the room. I heard One’s voice, “I’m fine! I can fly. Argh, Your Majesty! Where are we supposed to go now?! We don’t even know where the Prophet is!” “He’s… uh…” I quickly felt around with my Weave. The primary pull was gone. It had been missing since I had woken up. The secondary pull emanated from the path that ascended upwards. “The High Altar. It’s literally high up, isn’t it?” I mused aloud. “The Prophet retreated to his throne room, above us. We need to get higher! The right path, go!” “What about that thing?!” Two asked. The Valkyrie had begun to reform its chest and arms, the black ink rapidly coarsening into its shape. “... Bring the ceiling down onto it!” I commanded, but not daring to use the Weave. As one, all five of us changelings targeted the ceiling of the room with a wide array of spells. Focused Will, various superheated jetstreams of fire, acid, and a fireball tore through the old stonework. The stone had been made soft over the years of carrying the weight of the pyramid above, and was quickly obliterated. Entire sections came crashing down around us, and I retreated to the tunnel that led upwards. The changelings followed me, retreating backwards as they still laid waste to the unfortunate ceiling, which had committed no crime but paid the price all the same. The black goo was splashed across the room even more now that huge sections of stone were falling inwards. If we had not retreated so early, some of that substance would have landed on us. The last ling was in the hallway out by the time the room caved in completely. As the dust settled, all that remained of both the corrupted Valkyrie and our only way out was a pile of stone rubble, completely sealing this end of the hallway. Only minute traces of the black corruption was visible in the pile. ‘No time for Ghostbusters quotes, we have a stick to get. And an annoying pony pegasus, if she’s still alive.’ I turned and made my way up the stairs of the passageway, the changelings falling in line behind me. We were heading up the pyramid now, up to the top. As the stairway turned in on itself, cracks became noticeable, and eventually we had to fly above the ground in the relatively confined stairway, as the entire ground had fallen out several hooves and ended in a mass of churned stone. ‘Oops.’ The stairwell eventually ended at what I presumed to be the top of the pyramid. The room was pyramidal shaped, much like the exterior structure, with a raised circular section in the middle. It was not that big for a throne room, maybe thirty hooves wide and long. I imagined that in its heyday, decorative banners and murals hung on the walls such as they do in the Fourth Hive. As it was, the walls were bare except for lines of carved runes. They circled the room in neat bordered lines, mostly limited to the parts of the walls close to the floor. The runes were marred by the large cracks that had defaced the walls, likely my own fault. Then there was the High Altar itself. I assumed that it was in the center of the raised platform in the room, but I couldn’t tell. Instead, a massive hexagonal crystal that was mostly tinted black occupied the center of the room. It stretched up high, nearly brushing against the ceiling. What was brushing against the ceiling was a crystal extension, this one tinted slightly red. It was clear enough that I could have probably seen Moth’s Illumination inside of it, if not for the fact that Daring Do had just finished chipping away at the crystal and dislodged the staff– still in a thin coating of crystal– and held it triumphantly in the air with a cheer. “Ha HAA!” She brandished it upwards, raising it like a sword to the sky. She failed to hear us enter, our wings quietly buzzing, and only noticed our presence when the sharp crack of an electric stunning spell flew from my horn and impacted her in one of her outstretched wings. Daring Do seized up with a gasp and slowly teetered off the top of the black crystal. Moth’s Illumination fell from her grasp, bounced off the large crystal and fell to the ground. I reached out with my telekinesis as I flew over personally to grab it. My magic bounced off the crystal, and the Moth’s Illumination hit the ground inches in front of my outstretched hooves. “No!” Moth’s Illumination shattered into a million pieces, chips of crystal and wood spreading out over the smooth stone floor. Moments later, Daring Do landed on the ground with a heavy thud, groaning quietly in pain. I sat still on the ground, rewatching the events in my mind. It was like an avalanche of bad decisions, more than half of them mine. I decided to see if I could trust Daring Do. I went with telling the truth. I chose to zap her instead of ordering her to surrender. I caused the staff to be shattered. I… fucked up. “Sir?” One asked tentatively. “It’s gone,” I whispered. I got up off the ground and looked down at the shattered pieces. Ignoring the twitching pegasus, I brushed together some of the pieces into a small pile. There was no use. The staff was gone. The MacGuffin had been completely obliterated through my own carelessness and idiocy. “I…” Three whispered, “That’s not a good sign.” I looked up and immediately wished I hadn’t. The massive black crystal was beginning to melt like candle wax. It bubbled away and flowed down the semi-transparent surface in rivets of black liquid. “Grab the pegasus. Get close. Shields at the ready,” I quietly ordered. Half of my mind was still gawking at my own stupidity. ‘I fucked up. I fucked up big time. Oh Panar, I have to make sure we all make it out of here alive. The fancy magic stick is gone. The big bad is waking up. Running is probably pointless and suicidal. Staying is even more suicidal. We don’t even have a good way out, if we wanted to leave.’ “Uh… any ideas?” I asked as I backed up to the group. One of the changelings had levitated Daring Do over and threw her over their back. “Run?” Two suggested. “No exit.” “Make one?” “That crystal would be melted before then.” “Shoot the crystal?” Three this time suggested. “I couldn’t grip the staff using TK. I don’t think our magic will work on the crystals.” “Nnnngruuuh,” Daring Do moaned. “Good idea. Let’s save that for plan B, though.” ‘I could teleport out. Leave my men to die, and likely leave the armor behind. Leave my men behind…. No. I don’t think I’m even capable of that. Even now, a moment where if I suggested such an idea, my changelings would all support it, the idiots. They would probably try to prioritize my life.’ I snarled. ‘No. No running. I refuse to leave anyone behind. I refuse to let this place be the death of me.’ “If we have no good ideas,” I began, “then let’s start with the bad ones. Blast out the ceiling; we’re making our own exit. Drink your rations, we’re going to need every bit of power we can get our hooves on.” As we all retrieved our small love ration containers from the packs– each of them handing me back the ones I had distributed from my bags, I contemplated the best course of action. ‘Spells? That could work. Transformation? Also a potential. I don’t know any species well enough that can quickly dig through this structure, though I’m certain there are more than one candidate. That just leaves spells.’ The crystal was half melted. Black liquid corruption was pooling around it on the raised pedestal. Some of it slowly leaked down onto the lower section, where we stood. I chugged the four love rations and threw the empty bottles onto the ground. “We blast our way through. Bring the entire room down and stay alive using a shield. Then, we… uh. Damn it. That won’t work. Alright, blast a hole through the right wall, over there, Then we use that to get out into the open and… get swarmed by the corrupted changelings. Damn it, we’ve got a better chance against them than we do against whatever’s in there! Go!” The four changelings began cutting through the right wall as I kept an eye on the melting crystal. Like a cursed candle, the crystal’s melting was like our time running out. The Prophet, without Moth’s Illumination or the shield spell that Prince Carotid knew, would likely tear us to shreds. Or worse. There was always something worse. Especially when Ascension was factored in. ‘Oh Panar. Please not that! I can’t– no! Get a hold of yourself! Your lings are counting on you! No fear! No hesitation! For them, get through this!’ Keeping my eyes on the crystal, I could not see how much progress we were making. I could, however, see the changeling within slowly emerge. It was the horn first. Tall and smooth, like my own. Only, this was twice the length. Then came the rest of the head. His muzzle was freed rapidly, though it remained in place until the rest of his head was freed. His eyes, two dark green slitted ovals that sat in fields of pure black, stared right at me as they were uncovered. His shade of green was far darker than Chrysalis’s neon green. It was closer to black than anything else. The bastard was smiling as he blinked slowly. He had smaller fangs, like Chrysalis, but no less menacing. Dark green strands of hair slowly freed themselves from their crystalline prison, still pulled taught from the rest of it still stuck in crystal. He seemingly had a long hairstyle not dissimilar to Chrysalis’s, only his was shorter and more intact. He cracked his neck as it became free, and sighed contently. “Progress?” I whispered. “Some,” one of the changelings whispered back. As The Prophet’s shoulders started to free themselves, he spoke. “King Phasmatodea. How good of you to come here. I’ve been waiting for you.” The black goo stopped its slow progress towards us as it pooled on the lower platform. In fact, it seemed to avoid us, circling around and leaving a large swathe of floor around us clear. With his head open and clear, I put a substantial amount of power behind a Panar’s Fury bolt and unleashed it in The Prophet’s direction. However, when it got close to his face, it simply fizzled out of existence. The Prophet didn’t even blink. “What… the hell are you talking about?” I asked, not sure if I even should. “You. I am talking about you, Crier of The Damned,” his deep voice echoed throughout the room. “Phasmatodea. Prince of the Fourth Hive. King of the Fifth Hive. Current slave of the Hive Eternal. And finally, a former human.” I involuntarily stepped back, “W–what?!” He chuckled and popped his forehooves out from the crystal. His rear half of his barrel and his hindlegs were still encased in black crystal. His legs were smooth like mine. No holes in sight, just perfect chitin covering. “We’ve been watching you, ever since your arrival. No prophecy predicted you. No portent revealed your upcoming existence. Yet we saw our chance, and we took it. Phasma…. We have been waiting so long for a chance. Thank you for coming to us willingly.” “What’s he–” a changeling began to ask. “Quiet! Keep working!” I ordered. “I’m not helping you in any way, Prophet.” “Ha ha ha haa! You have, and you will, my young monarch. It simply is so. Our time is nigh, and you will be the one to bring us into this world once again.” ‘Stall him.’ “How do you know so much about me? And who are you talking about?” “We know so much because we have been watching. There is little more we could do while trapped. With only one of our number actively manifested at any point in time, our influence has been oh so limited. But now that comes to an end. I am free, and I am more than a mere piece of prey graced with greatness.” The realization dawned on me as a chill went up my spine. “You’re a Nightmare possessed royal.” “I have achieved true immortality. Not some facade or attempt at greatness that Avatars could only hope to achieve. True. Immortality. Even if my body was destroyed now, I would return from the Otherworld. I am not possessed. I am one with my other half. Such an Ascension is possible for you too, kin of kin and Crier of The Damned. Thousands of years have we waited for our return to the waking world, and you have brought us that opportunity. Lámhmarbh marking you was no coincidence. You are… perfect. Fate has decreed that the age of prey and false-predators has come to an end. Now, the true apex species shall rise. Panar has deemed it so. Epitaph has deemed it so. You alone have the potential to join me in final Ascension.” “You… what? You think I want to become an infected monster like you?” The Prophet pulled his rear hindlegs free from the crystal and shook the black liquid off of them. ‘How fucking long does it take to cut through potentially tens of hooves thick stone?!’ “Monster? Lost Child, you cannot fathom the heights I have achieved. I am beyond death. I am beyond mortal restrictions. I am beyond you. I offer you this one chance, since you have done me the service of awakening me, and shattered that accursed trinket that sealed me away.” I winced at the staff’s mention, however my mind was working overtime to connect the pieces. What the corrupted zealot had said so far was connecting back to the cryptic things he had said in the vision. “Hunt… The Nightmares are hunting Changelings?” “Nightmares.” He shook his head, “So pervasive has the hunt been that even the original name for our kind has been lost. There is no fighting it; this is how the changeling species will end. This is how every species will end. The age of prey is over. The Age of Darkness has begun. One final offer. Join me, and we can rise to heights even greater than Epitaph could.” “Epitaph?” The Prophet smiled and began to float above the melting crystal. His wings were stationary, and his horn was unlit. “He is not important. What is important is your next words. Will you join me, kin of kin, and accept this one offer to greatness?” “We’re through, Your Majesty!” A voice called out from behind me as the sound of stone grinding on stone nearly drowned out the voice. Then, a loud thud accompanied the temple shaking briefly as whatever piece of wall they carved out fell from the hole and onto the side of the pyramid. ‘Stall. Him.’ “Go. I have… further business here.” “S–sir?” That was One. Aorta. He was afraid. ‘Stall. Him.’ “Are you disobeying me?” I sternly asked. I dared not take my eyes off the levitating changeling king, smirking before me. This was beyond Chrysalis. Realms beyond Daybreaker. This was… final. Absolute. If this thing was the melding of a royal and a destroyer of civilizations, then what happened here could doom the world. ‘The changelings can’t even block a single hit. If a minion of this monster brings us to our knees, blocking a spell from him could easily kill us. I also doubt that they can even fight this monster, as not even I have a good chance at killing him. The only thing they can do is escape with their lives. I have to stall The Prophet.’ “Go!” I barked. The pegasus’s confusion and hints of pain that wafted lazily through the air began to withdraw. The changelings, with Daring Do in tow, had left me. “Your former subjects will not leave this place, regardless of your choice. In fact, you yourself will be the one to feast on them. And my kin of kin, you will thank me for the opportunity. One final chance. You are afraid of death, after tasting it once. Truly tasting it. None alive understand just how final and absolute it is, save us. We know what it's like to die. To have everything taken away from us. One final chance to make sure that can never happen again. Together, we can ascend above and usurp the Pantheon. No aspects. No kings. No gods. Only us.” “... Who are you?” The Prophet raised his hooves, “I am The Prophet. Once, I was the changeling King Sulcus. Once, I was the Nightmare Gluttony. Together, I am the one that shall consume the sun. I have feasted on this kill, just as the Third Hive feasted on devotion and ignorance. Once, I was nothing, doomed to die. Now, I am inevitable.” “And if I say no?” The changeling did not lower its raised limbs, instead grinning further. “The mark of Lámhmarbh has done its work. The second I was free from this prison, I broke the final seal on Epitaph. Even if somehow you prevailed and destroyed this form and escaped, Epitaph would still awaken. The final die has already been cast. The question is, are you too foolish to accept that?” ‘He keeps talking about this mark. Did that Nightmare that tried to possess me leave something on me? Did he mark my soul or something creepy like that? Do I have a sign on my ass that says kick-me? As much as I want to know, there’s more important things to consider.’ “Even if I did want to join you and your creepy death cult and brain-slug worship, you’d just betray me in the end.” The Prophet smiled and nodded, “Of course I would! And if you are unable to stop me, then you would deserve your fate! Just as Epitaph deserves his fate if we were to join together.” “Epitaph is your leader? You Nightmares go after each other just as much as your ‘prey,’ it seems.” “Any who are not strong enough, deserve to perish. This has always been the creed of the hunt.” ‘I need to stall him and get information. If I somehow live, then that information can be put to use stopping this Epitaph.’ “This all started with the Ascension Ritual. What does possession have to do with Ascension?” “Lost Child,” He says like he is disappointed, “I am stalling you just as much as you are stalling me. Each moment our conversation drags on is another moment the barrier holding Epitaph weakens.” “That… doesn’t make sense. Either I was doomed from the start, or you need to stall me. Which is it? And what does this have to do with Ascension?” The Prophet paused and decided to continue stalling me, “The Nightmares, as you call them, let changelings discern that process. It allowed our manifestation, once the Ascended were possessed. As a changeling, I foolishly reversed this process, slowing our rise. Now that I have ascended beyond life and death, I will correct this error.” In an instant, my mind went to the nightmare and Nightmare that had plagued me after The Promised Day. The scalpels, ripping into my mind. The tearing. The helplessness. The pain. Oh Panar, the pain! Dulled, yet worse than anything else I had ever felt. There were fates worse than death, and I knew that personally. I fired another Panar’s Fury at him. This time, the bolt froze in front of his face. He leaned to the side of it and shook his head slowly. The bolt dissipated into the air. “Crier of the Damned. You have made the wrong decision.” “Who says I made a decision? Maybe I was just testing you. Trying to kill allies, as you said your kind does all the time.” “Your heart declares your decision for you. It beats so loudly, it echoes your very thoughts. The time has come to silence both." "Well, I can’t exactly argue with one of my most important internal organs. You and your edgy boy band end here, Prophet.” The crystal had finished melting. The black pool beneath him seemed to drip upwards in defiance of gravity. The rivulets shrank and vaporized in the air as they flew towards the ceiling. Two black wings made of the same substance began to materialize on the Prophet’s back. “Confidence born of ignorance. I shall kill you, Lost Child, and I will pluck your soul from your corpse and use it to fuel the death of this world. Come, find your path to the next world.” The whole temple shook slightly as I heard a distant rumbling from the stairs that led to the room. ‘The Valkyrie I buried must not have taken the hint and stayed buried. It doesn’t matter anymore. The changelings have escaped. Whatever trouble the swarm of undead could have given them, they must have survived. They had to. They… had to. This all has to be for something.’ “You know something, old man?” I began quietly. “I’m not afraid of dying. Not anymore. There are so many worse things that I’m afraid of. Eternal torment. Making professional phone calls. A meaningless death. That last one stung the worst, let me tell you.” I buzzed my wings and lifted myself off the ground, bringing me to eye level with the dark green royal. “There’s something so enlightening about death. It puts a new light on everything. Makes you value strange things, and care less about others. Mercy? Why would I give that out, when it was denied to me? Revenge? Far more important than anyone realizes. I think you could really benefit from dying, Prophet. But don’t take my word for it, instead let me show you just how life-changing an experience death is. I’m going to kill you, Nightmare! Then I’m going to find this Epitaph before he awakens, and I’m going to kill him too!” With a dramatic flick of my head, I summoned forth a bright fireball and hurled it at the Prophet. As I predicted, he easily drained the spell of its magical power, dissolving it before it even crossed the distance between us. However, it did buy me a few seconds of time, enough to dash to the side and unleash three Panar’s Fury bolts at his exposed flank. A black bubble half-appeared around him moments before the bolts would have hit him. The bolts then impacted the shield, causing it to warble and darken, before the shield dissipated safely. Prophet retaliated with a Focused Will blast of pure black energy, nearly cutting me in two as I dropped low to the ground. I popped a quick succession of bright stunning flashes towards the Nightmare and flew towards him, just above the ground. Suddenly, three spikes jutted up from the black pool which had covered much of the room. The spikes, made of the same corruption-like goo, blocked my advance and nearly impaled me. I rolled to the side and turned my rush into another flanking maneuver while firing off two Panar’s Fury Bolts through the corrupted spikes. The bolts bisected the black protrusions and caught Prophet off guard. He brought his shield back up in time to only block one of the bolts, and the other hit him in his shoulder, drawing out a cry of pain and sending him tumbling back through the air. Pressing the advantage, I aimed a Focused Will blast directly for his head. In the corner of my eye, I spotted movement in the black pool and rose up higher quickly enough to avoid two more black spikes extending out from the pool, impaling the air where I just was about to be. Out of reflex, I brought up a shield as a lance of black fire from the Prophet hurled right towards my head. I expected to be utterly wracked by pain once again but I breathed a sigh of relief when Unbroken Radiance glowed slightly and the most I felt was a slight stinging sensation. Dropping the shield, I cut the room in half with a scythe of condensed acid. The Prophet dropped to the ground to avoid it, and when he reached the ground, he continued dropping, vanishing into the inch-deep black pool. Panicking, I dodged wildly and without pattern across the room while I fired Panar’s Fury into the corrupted liquid. With each impact, a swathe of the vile substance was removed from the world. A blast of a spell from behind threw me into the wall ahead of me, driving the air out of my lungs. Once again, Unbroken Radiance took the brunt of the hit. That still left the concussive blunt force trauma, though. As much as Unbroken Radiance protected me from the corrupted miasma and tainted spells, its tight fit meant that blunt force attacks would be painful, and its magical nature meant that teleporting was pretty much out of the picture. Not unless I wanted to leave behind said layer of protection. My knowledge of spellcraft was utterly amateurish in nature. I could identify the most common components of spells, but their interactions, histories and origins, and combinations were far beyond my slapdash-education. However, my knowledge was just sufficient enough that I could roughly guess which parts of Panar’s Fury lend it that pure nature that it effectively levied against the Nightmare and its corrupt forces. Building on this educated guess, I decided in the span of a second to put to the test just how well the anti-Nightmare component could play with fire spells. I fell off the wall with a groan, my buzzing wings catching me mid-fall and turning my downwards dive into a forward lunge towards the Prophet. Speaking of the bastard, he was half-submerged in the floor, and immediately began retreating back into the pool as I approached. ‘Eat this, you overgrown piece of shit!’ With a napalm-like spray of blessed fire, I coated the entire ground beneath me, up to the Prophet, and well beyond him like a firebombing run. The fire had taken on a greenish-white tinge to it, and where it touched, the corruption retreated. It burned across the room with a literal scream as the black goo was immolated. Though it did not burn long on the ground, it still pushed back the tide of darkness that had enveloped the entirety of the floor of the High Altar. Whipping my head around, I coated the entirety of the floor with fire. The Prophet shot up out of one of the last sections of the pool and immediately launched himself towards me. I pulled my head and horn upwards, directing the spray to him. He vanished behind the plume of discolored fire. Unseen to me, he had exchanged his mortal flesh and blood form for a black vapor, akin to the one he had assumed in the vision. The first hint of this I saw was when black smoke with two green eyes surged up and out of my fire spray. I tried pulling the spray up higher in an attempt to continue hitting him with it, but he continued towards me faster than I could react. He reached me and continued past just for a moment before materializing. He was almost entirely behind me now, save for a foreleg which he had wrapped around my neck. With a roar, he pressed forward, throwing me backwards. He slammed me into the ground hard. My head, neck, and back flared in pain as I was too stunned from the hit to even breathe. I stared up at him as he conjured a whip of black flame, reared it back, and swung it downwards. ‘Again with the fire whip?’ I asked through a muddled mind. With a gasp, I forced myself to breathe at the same time I shielded myself. Though I had attuned it to protect against fire, I was not knowledgeable enough to fix what had to be the ‘blessed’ portion of the Panar’s Fury spell. As such, when the whip was brought down and cracked against my shield, I hissed in pain as the stinging sensation grew. Then he brought it down again. And again. And again. The pain in my mind only grew in intensity. I had to do something. Staying in the shield would result in my death. Dropping it to fire spells at him would just result in a redirection of the whip, and my death. The whip came down and wrapped itself around my lower right arm, where a gap between my boot and barrel plate was. Unbroken Radiance glowed brightly as the black-fire rope burned brightly my body. However, I was uninjured. So I dropped the shield and stayed still, while enacting part two of a haphazard, Hail Mary plan. Now that I knew the holy spell’s components would work well with fire, I combined it with something I had to do some homework on while building my mafia. “You’re gonna have to be quicker than that, Nightmare!” When I had dropped the shield, I also took the time to transform from a changeling royal to a small dragon. I had not the time, space, energy, nor practice to assume the form of a fully grown dragon, instead having to go for a black scaled orange-frilled one that was the same size I normally was. Now the whip of stone-melting hot fire burned harmlessly– aside from a growing stinging sensation in my mind– on my black scales. I got a good look at the Prophet’s stunned face when I pushed up off the ground with a strong flap of my wings. I was tempted to roar at him for the fun of it, but instead opted to bathe him in magical dragonfire. Panar’s Fury blessed dragonfire, to be exact. I could hear hints of a scream above the intensely loud crackling of the fire and exhale. Then the floor exploded upwards in a spray of corruption, tinges of Panar’s Fury touched napalm, bricks, stone, and other dust. A massive black fist rammed through the room and grabbed the burning Prophet out from my fire. The Corrupted Valkyrie, previously buried far below, pulled itself further out of its newly created hole with the far clawed-arm as the closest one, still gripping the Prophet despite the black goo appendage burning away, slammed the closed fist into its own chest. The Prophet was buried into the liquid monster as it roared angrily at me. “Time to go!” I darted for the hole which the changelings had excavated out of the temple’s wall. Lines of the black liquid raced ahead of me and formed a net at the entrance to my only exit out of here. With no time to stop, let alone come up with a backup plan, all I could do was breathe fire once more and hope that the liquid net would be vaporized. Vaporized it was; I safely launched myself through the makeshift tunnel and out into the open air of the Third Hive. I pumped energy into the Thread of Change and undid my dragon shapeshift as I turned to glance at the temple I was leaving behind. The undead had swarmed all over the surface of the pyramid, with a number flying around outside. Several flying nightmare-minions immediately began their pursuit of me while behind them, the tunnel exploded outwards into a huge dust cloud as the corrupted Valkyrie/Prophet ripped apart the entire wall of the temple in its chase after me. The statue of the Prophet, which had its hindlegs on the sides of the now crumbling pyramid, began to slowly list to the side, growing in size as it began to lean towards me. Beneath its gargantuan collapsing body, the Valkyrie/Prophet roared in anger and began firing massive beams of black-energy Focused Will laser beams at me. “You won’t leave well enough alone, will you Nightmare?!” I yelled as I desperately dodged to the side to avoid the tracking laser beam. With no other option and a horrible plan beginning to form in my head, I flew towards the falling statue. Trying to keep it between the Prophet and I, I closed the distance between myself and the artificial sun. The gargantuan plasma ball and its concentric containment rings dwarfed me completely in size. Trying to keep my gaze off the sun so I could actually retain my eyesight, I watched a lance of hellfire shoot up towards me, only to burn away as it came close to the sun. ‘The Prince’s spell must still be kicking around in the big fireball!’ “I told you I was going to kill you, Prophet! It seems I’m going to have to drill that message into your damned skull!” I yelled out, despite the Prophet being nowhere near enough to hear me. There was also the fact that the massive statue was crashing into the ground with a boom, the loud sound loudly echoing off the massive cavern’s walls. Couldn’t exactly yell over that. Putting nearly half of all of the power I had left stored within my manapool into my next spell, I cut through the containment rings with a laser. The sheer power overwhelmed what protective shield enchantments the rings had, and the entire structure violently ripped itself apart, sending fragments of metal and glass down like a torrent of rain. I spun around and flew towards the exit as fast as I could. Already, the cool blue light of the artificial sun was growing brighter and more white. I prayed to Panar that the sun would simply explode, and not expand infinitely like some magical black hole. I didn’t have time for assurances. I didn't have time to think of a better plan, or even a good one. I just had to hope the massive fireball would burn away the entirety of the corruption in the city, and bury the city with an explosion. I glanced over my shoulder and nearly blinded myself. However, I did see the Nightmare corrupted changelings literally burn away. My gambit was at the very least, partially successful. As I flew over the remains of the dead city, and then the bottomless pit in front of the exit, I spied the changelings on the ground in front of the exit. There were three of them. Three. And no pegasus. “Where?!” I demanded over the Weave, all but screaming at them as I got close. One of them pointed back towards the temple. I turned to look and saw two shapes, one black and one tan, desperately trying to fly away from the corrupted horde around them. It took all of their effort to avoid corrupted spells thrown their way. They were not making enough progress forwards. Not enough at all. “Go to the surface! Evacuate everyone up there! Get everyone, ponies included, into the air!” I loudly commanded the changelings, before heading back into the dead and dying city once more. The sun was so bright now. I could feel its heat start to heat up my carapace and armor. The distant shapes of the changeling, pony, and evil skeleton army came closer and closer as I closed the distance. At the back of the horde, pushing its way to the front, was the crawling form of the Valkyrie and Prophet. It was smoking under the intensity of the sun, yet it continued forward. When it lifted its head, now shaped like the Prophet’s, and saw me, it roared, making my teeth rattle and ears ring from the volume. I was getting close. I was about to make it to the changeling and pegasus. They had, at the last second after looking at what the giant monster was roaring at, saw me coming, and desperately flew towards me. But the sun was going supernova. I could see it happening in my mind’s eye before I saw it happening for real. The sun had stopped growing in intensity, and as the seconds slowed, I could barely see it shrink in size. My eyesight was nearly completely gone from looking at the intense glare, but the one second warning I had gotten let me bring up a shield strongly attuned to block out fire. The pegasus and changeling had managed to meet me mid-air, both slamming into me as they desperately attempted to avoid the literal nightmarish horde of undead that were right on their heels. I shut my eyes, clenched my teeth, and wrapped my forelegs around them both as I braced for impact. I turned away from the sun and put myself between the dying god and the two smaller forms I still held against my chest. Even through my clenched eyes, all I could see was a bright white light. The whole world exploded. I felt the force hit my shield like a freight train. And once it hit, it kept pressing. I cried out in shock and pain from the force, but I couldn’t even hear myself scream. It was so loud, even through the thick layer of shielding. The last of my energy was burnt up in a single instant and the shield collapsed. It fizzled out of existence as the white light faded and the pressure lifted. I had held the shield long enough to survive the supernova. Unfortunately for us, that did not mean that we had survived the blast. Heat wasn’t an issue, though I was sweating hard. Pressure wasn’t a problem, as the explosion had found an outlet other than the single tiny exit ahead of us. It was that new exit itself that became the problem. The entirety of the ceiling above the Third Hive was collapsing inwards, after having been blown partially outwards from the supernova. My gambit was entirely correct. Only, we were caught in both halves of the destruction of the den of evil. The death of the sun, and the collapse of the city. My suicidal plan had worked, much to my own horror. I buzzed my wings as fast I could and lifted myself off of the ground. The changeling and pony moved around in my grip but halted when their own eyes opened and saw the massive sections of stone now falling around us. Some were bigger than city blocks in size. “Must. Get. To. Exit!” I panted through the Weave, rapidly becoming too tired to speak aloud. I had no idea if such a thing was even possible. But I did not come all this way to be buried alive. I had no energy left for a teleport, so flying was the only way out. Rock pummeled my back and occasionally my fragile wings as I began to fly to the one way out of the city. I felt the two curled up shapes wiggle more suddenly, before a sharp pain embedded itself in my left flank, just beneath the armor plating. I screamed. ‘Something jumped up a–and bit–’ The sharp pain faded, only to be replaced by a quickly growing burning sensation. It cut off my own thoughts as it grew. My wings froze along with the rest of my body as we began to plummet through the air. Before we hit the ground, hooves wrapped around my forelegs and I was dragged violently upwards, only adding to the pain as my forelegs were nearly wrenched from their sockets. I screamed again. I still couldn’t hear. Small black spots appeared in my vision as I craned my neck around. I saw the changeling I was clutching in my left foreleg now dragging me by it, flying upwards. Further back, I saw a spear of tainted hellfire dissolving away as Unbroken Radiance glowed. I saw a stream of blood fall from where the spear must have hit, flying backwards through the air as we continued forward. And all the way back, on the ground and some distance away, I saw the dissolving body of the corrupted Valkyrie and Prophet, arm outstretched as if it had thrown something. ‘Th–the spear!’ The giant was smiling as the last of its body was vaporized. The pain was spreading from my leg rapidly. My teeth were clattering from the pain. I was beginning to feel both too cold and too hot. And the sky was still falling down onto us. We began to jerk violently to the sides as the two flyers fought at different flying speeds and mental plans to avoid the falling rock. The pain increased until my eyes rolled into the back of my head and I passed out. As I faded, I could have sworn I saw hints of black in my blood. But so much of my vision was black at that point, I couldn’t be certain. ‘I’m so fucking retiring!’ Daring Do thought as she dodged a piece of stone the size of a five story building. The exit was close now. It was nearly blocked up by a massive fallen boulder, but Daring could spy an opening large enough for all three of them to fit through. ‘So fucking retiring! I’m too old for this! Oh Celestia, this is so different from a dart trap or rolling boulder! Wh–’ “Up!” She yelled. Her voice was muffled, but she could still hear herself through the ringing. She abruptly swerved upwards as a falling rock cut off her flight-path, the changeling mimicking her action. Every one of her muscles were screaming their hatred towards her as she pumped her wings again and again. Through deep gasps, she forcibly dragged cold air into her burning lungs. ‘Undead horde! Evil magic! Dead city! Changeling king! So many royalties! I just have to survive!’ “Left” The changeling she was flying with cried out. Daring banked left hard without hesitation. They flew through the increasingly cluttered sky of the dead, undying, and dying city. They had seconds at most to reach the exit tunnel. Seconds of life. Seconds till death. “Right!” She yelled out. They barrel rolled to the right, swerving around a rock the size of a pony that slammed down into the ground in front of them. “Tuck in!” She screamed, and then repositioned herself to do just that against the armored changeling they were carrying. She came eye to eye with the changeling as they started to drop. It was impossible to read its expression, but she just knew it was just as afraid of dying as she was. And, like her, it was equally unwilling to let go of the thing that had saved them both. ‘Flew back into Tartarus!’ The King Orobouros had passed out halfway through their mad dash towards the exit, which was probably fine. On one hoof, that meant his weak struggles stopped. On the other hoof, he could be dead. Daring Do felt stone slam into her right hindleg as they slammed through the opening still left. She screamed in pain as they tumbled and rolled through the air before slamming into the stone ramp. They slid up its length a whole twenty hooves in length before slowing to a stop. With a loud boom and rush of air, the hole they just flew in from was plugged up with a crash of stone. The stone piled into the tunnel, covering up half of the length from them to what once was the opening. Though she still felt the ground rumbling, the ceiling above her was no longer threatening to turn her into a pancake. She sighed and went limp, letting go of the hopefully-unconscious changeling king. As she laid on the cold stone floor, she heard the changeling on her right panting just as much. She tried to laugh, both from shock and sheer relief, but found that she just couldn’t. It took all she had to just breathe. ‘In and out. In and out. Breathe. We’ve survived another one, Daring. Another day… saved? Whatever happens, I don’t think I can do another one of these…’ The ground continued to shake underneath her. Daring Do considered the idea that they were still in danger. The sheer amount of shifting stone could send the tunnel’s ceiling crashing down upon them. ‘If that happens, it happens.’ She was too bone-tired to move. If she was exhausted from dodging left, right, up, and down from the skeletons and their black magic, then she was completely dead tired from their escape. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she breathed in and out. Really, she was thankful she still had the energy to do just that. ‘King Ouroboros... ‘ She flopped her head to the side to look at him. The changeling in the green armor was prone right next to her. He was scrunched up, face down ass up, with said face lodged open and tongue laying on the ground. She would have laughed at the sight, if she could. ‘Why did you come back to save me? You held onto us both. The fact that you even came back for us is one thing, but you actively protected us both. You could have let go of me… Ugh. This is too much thinking. Why couldn’t you be a simple cloak-and-dagger villain, like everypony else I run into like this?’ After what seemed like minutes, the intense shaking and distance rumbling faded. ‘That last spell hit you good, didn’t it? Bet it hurts, being zapped from the air. I totally wouldn’t know anything about that, would I? What comes around, goes around, big guy… Which means I totally have to save your life. You’d better not be dead, Orobouros. We’ve got a lot to talk about!’ Beyond the king’s embarrassingly posed form, she saw the changeling minion slowly rise to their hooves. “Keep going,” he panted. Daring quietly noted and appreciated the fact that her hearing was returning. There was still some ringing, though. “Nuh,” she panted. ‘Eloquent as ever, Daring.’ “Yuh,” the minion answered back. The changeling tried to pick up the King, but just stumbled forward and fell onto its face. Daring managed the strength to weakly snort in laughter. Then, she heard distant voices grow louder over the ringing. Daring tried to make out the specific words, but she gave up and focused on trying to breathe normally. Her chest hurt badly, but she was beginning to feel her hooves again. The rest of her body, too. ‘Covered in sweat and dirt. And a hundred miles away from the nearest shower, too.’ “There they are!” She heard somepony yell. ‘No wait, that wasn’t a pony’s voice. More changelings.’ Suddenly, changelings appeared in her vision. There were three of them, looking down at her, King Orobouros, and the other changeling. “Is he alive?” One of the changeling’s horn lit up in a green spell, which washed over the King’s body. “... Yes.” “Bring them up to the surface! We need to get out of here before the E.U.P. come, and that’s going to be very soon!” Daring felt herself be picked up by one of the changeling’s magic and placed over one of their backs. She tried to protest, but was too tired to do anything other than groan. Daring accepted her new ride up as she was settled between the changeling’s neck and extended wing covering thingies. The ringing faded further over time, and she could make out the sounds of them grunting with effort. Rolling her head to the side, she watched them position themselves underneath the King’s shoulders and began to fly him upwards. Her own ride took to the air, and they began their journey back to the surface. Belatedly, Daring Do realized that somewhere along the way, her hat had fallen off her head. In all likelihood, it was back when she was zapped inside the temple. Everypony else was alright. For that, Daring Do thanked Celestia. They had been rushed into the carts that the changelings had arrived on shortly after the earthquake started. How they knew to get all the way to the carts and in the air, Daring didn’t know. But she was thankful. Because half of the camp was gone, including the main tent. From a hundred hooves beyond the base of the surface temple, the ground simply vanished. She could see for miles and miles ahead. A massive section of the rainforest had simply fallen downwards, something like five hundred hooves or so. The city had been buried, and an impression of its size had been left on the surface. The sheer amount of destruction was on a level that Daring couldn’t comprehend. She stood there, looking out over the square pit. Just staring. “You. Pegasus.” She turned to see a changeling approaching her from one of the carts, which had landed and disembarked the archeology team. “You were down there,” the changeling stated, not asked. Daring Do decided to nod. “You’re coming with us. From what I’ve been told, you’ve seen more than the others. You even helped save His Majesty’s life.” “Yeah,” Daring said. “... Thank you, pony. That is a debt that cannot be repaid. But you have to come with us.” “Why?” “You know too much, and I don’t think he wanted us to pod you.” Just before the changelings and her resurfaced, they had put on disguises, and told her to hold her tongue, or else. “Pod me?” The changeling half nodded, “Standard procedure for those who know too much. Anyways, he wouldn't have wanted that. Or maybe he does. Point is, he’s not in a good condition, and One says you’re coming with us. Anything you can tell us will help save him, and I don’t think I need to remind you that he did save your life. Apparently.” “... Where we goin’?” “Manehattan.” Daring was still too tired to try to escape. Besides, if the changelings were playing nice, so would she. There was still a chance to find out just what exactly was all that down there. That was not something she could pass up. Once again, her thirst for knowledge was leading her into the manticore’s den. The disguised changeling escorted her onto one of the carts. She passed by the archeology team. One of them, Director Trowel, called out to her. “Dazzle! There you are! We were worried sick! Where w– no, where are they taking you!” “To get answers. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Daring managed to answer, waving him off. She pulled herself up onto the pegasus-pulled cart and sat down. “Stay back, and stay close to the structure, ponies. The Guard will come to your rescue soon enough,” a changeling ordered her coworkers. “You can’t leave us here!” Somepony cried out. “Depart!” The same changeling yelled. With a lurch, her cart, as well as the other landed ones, set off from the ground. She turned around in her seat and watched her colleagues immediately go to the base of the pyramid on the surface, putting as much distance between them and the start of the ginormous pit. ‘... Eh. They’ll be fine.’ From the air, Daring Do got a good look at the dead city’s last mark on the world. Stretching for miles and miles around, from the bottom of the pit to the sloped sides, the E.U.P. would see it during their routine patrols for sure. They’d sooner miss the sun in the sky before missing that brand new canyon for even a single day. The sun was just beginning to rise over the rainforest’s new grave, the flying convoy putting as much distance between themselves and it as possible, when they suddenly changed their direction. After a moment, Daring Do moved to the front of the cart and called out to the disguised changeling pulling the cart, “Hey! Where are we going?! Manehattan is East, not West!” One of the changelings landed behind her, and she totally didn’t jump out of fright. ‘Those damned skeletons will be giving me nightmares for months!’ She turned to address the new changeling, “Where are–?” “We’re not going to Manehattan, Daring Do. We’ve got a new destination, straight from the boss himself.” “King Orobouros is awake?!” “No. But he did tell us where to go.” “How? Why? Where?” The changeling thought for a moment, before deciding to humor her questions. One of them, at least. “We’re going to Trotsylvania.”