//------------------------------// // Finale: 1/3 // Story: They're EVERYWHERE! // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// Invisible again, 156 finds herself inside a well-lit underground tunnel ending in a T-section in the middle of which stands a closed door with two strange-looking changelings, one by each side. To her infiltrator eyes, there are dozens of tiny inconsistencies between her idea of a hive warrior and the duo, and yet they definitely are changelings, albeit even more different than those whom she saw in 387’s last memory. Their carapace isn’t as smooth, it’s dark green instead of pitch black, their eyes look like pony ones, they have two antennae instead of a horn on top of their heads and, most of all, they’re in the middle of a lively chat instead of standing and properly watching their surroundings. Tantabus is nowhere to be found and her hive link to 387 keeps pointing at one of the door guards. “-with Starbright now working alongside unicorns in Withering Marshes,” he says, “They’re suffering serious headaches after having to dry out such a big stretch of land day after day.” “It’s always great to see one of ours find their place these days. Canterlot has been a bit… inhospitable lately,” the other changeling shakes his head. “Wistful takes it up with the council of nobles each time he’s in Canterlot,” 387 frowns, “but every time the newspapers publish another ‘anonymous story’ about anything bad happening to anypony within the same postcode where somepony even saw a changeling that week, it gets worse. Honestly, I wish Princess Celestia would put her hoof down regarding this nonsense and at least force the papers to do some investigating instead of just blindly printing any nonsense they can get their hooves on, but I can already see the headlines about her suppressing free speech due to changeling influence on the throne,” he rolls his eyes, “Basic damn fact-checking, seriously.” “Yellow journalism,” the other changeling shakes his head, “The worst enemy of the truth. Speaking of newspapers, any news about Quiet Whisper? All I’ve been getting down in the south for the past three months were the usual reports about zebra unrest overseas. The flow of terrified refugees to take care of was never ending with less and less love to get from the ponies...” “She just finished a fantastic piece regarding corruption in Cloudsdale. Obviously, there was a lot of pushback, but her sourcing was impeccable and the pegasi have this tendency to solve issues of corrupt city officials in a rather definitive manner. Think defenestration, but with broken wings, a boulder tied around one’s neck, in front of their family, and from the height of a cloud. A lot of time to think about one’s shady deals on the way down,” 387 snickers, “I’m not big on this level of brutality but I have to admit that it sends a message.” “Makes me think we could use a little bit of cleaning up oursel-” the other guard opens his mouth to say something more but is interrupted by a female changeling figure soundlessly appearing from the tunnel bend ahead. She has long, flowing, grey mane, and her white eyes are locked on the door. Both 387 and the other give her a friendly nod. She’s nervous. “Hello, Misty.” “Twinkleshine, Merryweather,” she nods back at both of them, “Is my father in?” “Yes, he is,” Merryweather nods towards the door and lets Misty inside before closing it and… …locking the door behind her. “What was that for?” 387, or Twinkleshine, raises an eyebrow. “Give them some time,” Merryweather shrugs, and the timber of his voice tells 156 immediately that there’s more and that 387 wouldn’t like it, “Misty spent the last year visiting changelings all around Equestria to see how we were doing while Wistful was doing politics in Canterlot with nobility. As I was saying, perhaps it’s time for us to have a chat about corruption of leadership.” “Come on, I’ve been in Canterlot a bunch of times,” 387 rolls his eyes, “It’s not as if Wistful isn’t fighting for us, we just have too little influence these days.” “And that’s about to change,” Merryweather suddenly jumps at 387, knocking him down in a moment of surprise, “Sorry, buddy, but you’ll understand soon.” 156 senses a wave of mental pain hit both 387 and Merryweather and hears a scream from behind the door. 387 recovers first, twists on the floor, and manages to kick Merryweather off of himself before punching him in the head, unlocking the door with his key, and entering a smooth cavern furbished in a mix of furniture belonging to a study, a living room, and an office. “Misty…” 387’s jaw drops open when he sees Misty standing over the body of another moss green changeling with his throat slit so wide his head is almost gone. The shock drains quickly, replaced by burning rage as 387 charges at her, “I will see you in jail for this!” “Hmph,” Misty just gives him a somehow even more furious glare followed by a mental burst of agony that knocks 387 down on the floor and makes even 156 drop to her knees, “While you and this disgrace were parading yourselves in Canterlot, I travelled around to see what state we are in. I met with changelings starving in the streets, whoring themselves for food, or pushed into ghettos. What you’re feeling now is their pain, and I won’t allow this to continue. I’m letting you live, Twinkleshit, because you’re just his friend and I saw you only doing your job while he was getting blown by his alicorn slut. However, you should reconsider whether your loyalty lies with a corrupt leader or with the rest of your species.” As 387 starts crawling on the floor towards Wistful, Misty leaves without another word. “I failed you…” he tries to cover the neck wound with his hooves but it’s obviously completely pointless. At that point, 156 finally senses the presence of Tantabus nearby and understands what she has to do. Whatever 387 really is, he can sense, understand, soothe, and bring peace, but she’s an infiltrator. She schemes, controls, and manipulates. That doesn’t always have to be a bad thing. As Wistful gurgles and gasps for air, dying under 387’s hooves, 156 leans over him and whispers as quietly as she can while mimicking the voice of a stallion she never heard based on 387’s and Merryweather’s conversation: “...I believe in you, you can help everypony find a better tomorrow…” Strangely enough, 156 believes it herself. *** The memory shatters around her, sending her tumbling through darkness. When reality stabilizes, she finds herself standing on a hill overlooking a lush valley. 387, with tears in his eyes, is standing in front of her, staring upwards at the massive, starry form of Tantabus towering in the middle of the valley and looking down at them with a sharp-toothed, wide smile. “I WAS WONDERING HOW THIS FAILURE KEPT RESISTING,”   Its voice booms over the countryside,  “SO I GUESS I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO KILL YOU, BUT DOING IT MYSELF WOULD BE TOO QUICK. BESIDES, LET’S GIVE THAT HOPELESS TERROR ONE FINAL CHANCE TO GROW AND ADD ONE MORE DEATH TO YOUR FAILURE COUNTER.” The ground around Tantabus’ enormous hooves withers and dies, leaving the rolling green grass as black mess. From it, black pony figures begin rising. “I WONDER IF I UNDERSTAND HOW YOU BUGS WORK A LITTLE BETTER NOW.” No, not ponies. Changelings. An army of changelings grows out of the ground which starts trembling under their hooves as the black wave charges towards the duo. “387, if you have something else left in your sleeve, now’s the time to use it,” 156 chuckles nervously as the horde approaches, “Because I’m pretty sure running isn’t an option anymore.” “I don’t know what to do…” he breathes out, his voice still shaken from the vanished memory and his shoulders slumped. “That’s an order from a higher rank, Twinkledink!” 156 pushes herself up, walks to his side, and smacks the back of his head, “Less moping, more fighting the giant star monster and its army of fake changelings.” “Ow…” 387’s distant gaze finally focuses on 156, “Hey, wait, you saw-?” “Giant. Star. Monster. Massive. Bug. Army,” 156 jabs 387 in the chest with every word. “Oh, right,” his horn flashes, and a protective shimmering dome appears around the hill as the army surrounds them and reaches its base. Some fakes take flight and begin slamming against it from above, bringing back vivid memories of attacking Canterlot, “There. Protection done. Now you can think about how to destroy the fake changeling army as well as the giant nightmare monster.” Tantabus laughs again. “NO NO, I DON’T THINK SO.” It’s massive hoof reaches over to the hill and gives the barrier a single tap. Cracks spread from the point of impact, and more and more glass-like shards start dropping from it as the fakes begin ramming their bodies violently against it. “Strategy level of Chrysalis, seriously…” 387 sighs. “You stay here and think, I deal with that,” with a flash of green, chitinous blades grow over 156’s body as she blasts herself through the air towards the first fake pushing its body head-first through the crack. She grabs it by its neck, steadies herself with her hind legs against the barrier, and rips its head off, leaving its body stuck in the hole like a cork, “Fighting like a warrior is so… barbaric, but damn if it isn’t cathartic!” Cracks spread under the mass of the entire army slamming against the barrier from all sides on repeat. “You said it yourself, 387 - you’ve got a pretty much endless supply of love here,” the warrior down on the ground mutters, “You’re not gonna run out, so just concentrate.”  The fake corking the hole gets popped out, letting through several slimmer changelings who immediately attack 156. Thanks to being linked up to 387 watching this from underneath, even them surrounding her means very little as she’s able to see the attacks coming through him. 387, as a warrior, notices their sloppy attacks immediately.  “Whatever Tantabus might think, if it had proper knowledge of the changeling mind this army would be acting far more coordinated. These are just bodies,” he mentally informs 156, fairly certain that such communication is safe. This would be so much easier if I had at least two more pairs of eyes… Unfortunately, being able to see any attack coming is still limited by the ability to react, and 156 is slowly getting overrun as she has to hunt fakes who, instead of attacking her, start flying straight at 387, thus giving time for others to crawl inside. However, instead of continuing towards 387, they turn around some distance away and swarm 156, now with numbers she can barely match.  “Good job catching them, but they’re not going after me. Tantabus wants me to see you die,” 387 grits his teeth. “WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE TO GUESS THAT SOONER!” she yells back, bursting upwards while grabbing a fake above her and tossing it down at the growing swarm, “These things might be weaker and slower than me but that doesn’t matter when there’s a thousand of them!” “Want to trade places? You and your infiltrator mind trying to bend reality against the most powerful entity inside a dimension you barely understand? Because I could definitely use some good old punching to clear my head.” 387 hears 156’s scream, because by now he can’t even be her second pair of eyes anymore due to the ball of fakes completely obscuring her. Hearing her pained voice, Tantabus’ grin only grows wider. “AND SO, AS YOU MORTALS SAY, THAT’S HOW THE COOKIE CRUMBLES.” 387 feels reality shift, and as he looks with worry to the left where the air wobbles, forming a rift in space, a familiar, deep voice says: “Yeah, no.” 559, his carapace scarred and scratched, walks through and throws a severed, brown mantis head of a dreamweaver on the ground. Behind him, 918 walks in, followed by the final two warriors of the second dreamscape group. “And they say that the art of dynamic entry is dead,” she looks up at the mass of fakes now scattering to engage the new enemies and giving 156 some breathing room. “What the holes took you so long?!” calls out 156, her aggressive call still dripping with relief. “With all due respect, you try dealing with a dreambuilding monstrosity on your first trip into the dreamworld,” replies 918. “LOOK OUTSIDE!” 156 yells back. 918 and the warriors look at the Tantabus. “Retracted,” the second infiltrator breathes out, “So that’s the big boss 559 was trying to sass?” “Yep,” is all 156 says before retreating from the growing swarm of fakes. 559, 791, and 2899 begin wiping the floor with the fakes with ease. Three warriors with the tactical and mental support of two infiltrators, all possessing unlimited stamina, are way too much for the slow pace through which the enemies can get through 387’s barrier. “Good job, guys,” 387 breathes out a sigh of relief as the immediate danger vanishes with shocking ease. “We’ve been fighting pony and changeling armies since we got here. Holes, I think we might have killed fake Chrysalis at some point, it kinda blends all together,” replies the scarred warrior, “We know how to let loose with near-infinite love.” “I wouldn’t celebrate too early. Considering our combined mental power, Tantabus might not be able to kill us with a thought anymore nor affect us with illusions through the hive links, but it can still summon more monsters than ever.” “Then how do we attack that huge grinning bastard directly?” 387 grins. He knows how arrogant, powerful beings act. After all, he’s survived through the rule of some of the worst. “Hey, 559,” he calls out loud enough so that Tantabus hears him, “You want me to make a bigger hole in that shield? Looks to me like you’re running out of targets.” “SO COCKY! SUCH HOPE TURNS INTO FEAR FAR TOO EASILY AS REALITY SETS IN!” To everyone’s surprise, Tantabus teleports away from their hill, reappearing in the middle of the valley and looking upwards. “LET’S SEE HOW LONG IT TAKES YOU TO REALIZE YOU CANNOT STOP ME. THE DAMAGE TO THE REAL WORLD HAS BEEN ENOUGH BY NOW.” Without any noise, a tear appears in the sky where Tantabus’ horn is pointing, followed by a female scream: “IT CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO ESCAPE! IT WILL TURN OUR REALITY INTO ITS PLAYGROUND LIKE THE DREAMSCAPE!” “That sounded like the voice which guided us here,” reports 559, “Orders?” 156, as the highest rank around, takes charge. “The voice didn’t feel like a trap. 387, sync your warriors while 918 and I provide support. Don’t go into the front line yourself, though, we might need your dream bending mojo yet.” 387’s barrier vanishes at the same moment as the formation of four warriors and two infiltrators charges forward. With enough hive link nodes and good eyes, there’s no surprise attack the enemy swarm can make that wouldn’t be dodged or countered. The warriors quite literally rip and tear their way through the fakes within minutes, all the way while clearing the distance between the original hill and Tantabus’ leg. “Something must be up,” 387 warns, “Tantabus wouldn’t be ignoring us if it didn’t have a plan.” Then reality hits them. Right as they hit Tantabus.  As if laughing at them, the army of fakes creates some distance before vanishing entirely. They strike Tantabus with all the force of their hooves, blades, and energy beams. Any full power attack they can muster. Focused attack on one spot, split attacks. Legs, torso, eyes, its horn. Nothing leaves as much as a dent in the partially see-through but completely solid mass of stars and nebulae. “ADORABLE.” That brief look down is all Tantabus spares for them before looking up again, right into the slowly spreading rift. “GET READY, CHANGELINGS!” the female voice calls out again. “DEAR LUNA, YOU FAILED EVERYONE. THE SOONER YOU START WORKING ON COMING TO TERMS WITH IT, THE SOONER IT WILL BE OVER.” “Down there!” 156 catches the first sign of air wobbling just like when 559’s group appeared, and all changelings rush through the air towards the hoof of Tantabus’ left foreleg. The new portal spits out five drones like a shotgun. “Wheee!” “Ow ow ow ow ow, my head is starting to hurt again!” “Yaaay, all the long words are coming back!” “See how far I can boooounce!” “Guys, DODGE!” 10013’s warning is, thankfully, unnecessary, as every single drone gets snatched by a warrior or an infiltrator and is immediately moving at speeds normally reserved for playing drone ball but without the pain.  “What’s going ooooooooon?!” 10013, having been ‘leading’ the dreamscape drones so far, does its best to focus on the suddenly rather blurry and windy situation. “We’re currently engaged in a fight against-” 156 begins. “WE DROP, YOU DIG THE BIG LEG!” 387 mentally yells over her. “Awesome! Only one of those words had more than three letters! Much better for my head,” comments 47989. “Yeah, being concise is crucial!” 13887 agrees. “Neeeerd- ow ow ow!” 31214 tries to stick its tongue out at the drone held by 2889 flying next to it and its holder, only managing to bite itself. “Everything is still bluuuuurryyyyyyy!” 19441 adds its two bits to the chaos 10013, being the second highest ranked drone overall and the top one here, distills the still rather incoherent situation into one, easy to understand command, and points at the gigantic starry pillar around which the changelings are circling: “DIG BIG!” Finally… FINALLY… The corner of 387’s mouth curls up as Tantabus screeches in what must be more shock than agony as the drone hooves start ripping chunks of ‘flesh’ from its leg. “HOW?!” Still, the drones are tiny while the sheer mass of the leg is enough to buy Tantabus a lot of time to think. And think it does. The narrow rift in the sky stops spreading and stabilizes as Tantabus looks down, raises its leg, and stomps, creating a rumbling earthquake and scattering the drones into the air where they’re immediately scooped up by the other changelings again. The leg starts healing in front of their eyes, but it’s clear that Tantabus wasn’t expecting to have to waste energy on doing so, and it’s taking time. As the warriors circle around for another drop, they notice more fake changelings sprouting from the ground, this time small and, in their eyes, rather slow. “Is it trying to grow drones this time?” 387 chuckles, “I think it can see that they can break through anything.” “Will they be as strong as the fakes we fought until now?” asks 156. “I doubt it. I think that without understanding a mind, it can’t copy its essence. I don’t know how to explain something I don’t really understand myself, but if it could merge drone digging with our speed, reflexes, and hive link synchronization, we’d all be already dead,” shoots 387, “It think it will be straight up a fight against a horde of drones.” “I WILL TURN YOUR POWER AGAINST YOU!” “What power?” 31214 can’t help asking, “We don’t have any power.” “DON’T PLAY INNOCENT, LITTLE BUG. A HORDE OF YOU WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE!” “Us… like drones? Against a bunch of high ranks?” 19441 tries to wrap its head around a situation that makes zero sense. “Are you right in the head, bad guy star pony?” 47989 scratches the scar on the back of its head, “I know it’s hard to think sometimes when you get hit there a lot.” “YOUR MIND GAMES DON’T WORK ON ME!” “Like, you summoned how many fake drones against six high ranks?” 10013 furrows its brows, “Are you crazy? You’d need at least three more zeroes to get even close.” “SHUT UP! THIS ARMY WILL BE ALL POWERFUL!” “Your call,” 10013 shrugs and allows itself to be tossed against the previously dug gashes in Tantabus’ leg into which it now starts burrowing to avoid being dislodged again by another stomp. It doesn’t know why it’s digging, but it was told to dig… so it does, “Silly star pony. We don’t mess with high ranks.” Outside of its hole, the situation is going as expected, at least as expected by the real drones. Thousands of uncoordinated drones against a bunch of mid and high rank changelings without the chance of wearing them out is a massacre. In the eyes of the high ranks, the reaction and speed difference is so massive that it almost looks as if the drones are moving through quicksand. The question regarding why the ranks of drones sometimes numbering in the tens of thousands or more could never rise up despite any amount of abuse or mistreatment throughout the history of the changeling species is being answered right now. 387 sighs. If only they all didn’t look as if they were enjoying it. But hey, I can always lie to myself and say they’re just happy for fighting an easier enemy than before. Yeah. It’s that. For sure. Nothing else. Soon, the drone army vanishes into thin air, as Tantabus must be realizing its mistake. It growls, looks down, and its horn lights up like the sun. In response, the previous changeling army starts growing out of the ground again, although this time in numbers straight up covering the ground and, as they take into the air, the sky. “It’s not screwing around anymore, is it?” asks 156. “The drones are causing damage, they’re just too slow about it,” 387 replies, “Sucks that we have to fight around the holes they dug in the leg or the fakes would just pull them out.” 559 swings a glowing foreleg downwards, the chitin blade growing out of it breaking after cleaving two fakes and getting stuck in a third. They’re getting smashed by almost a solid mass of bodies. If there’s one good thing about the situation, it’s that at least they can’t get attacked from the back anymore, because they’re being pushed so far that their backs are against Tantabus’ leg. Not exactly a prospect filling anyone with hope, but it’s important to stay positive. Unfortunately, the only thing 387 is growing more and more positive about is that none of this is enough. Solid mass pressing against his back with the only exception being the drone ingress hole, and fighting nine enemies with four legs in total. That’s 387. Next to him, 559 is doing the same. All changelings are surrounding Tantabus’ leg like a bracelet, all fighting side by side. We can’t avoid being wounded forever. Every lucky swing, the smallest scratch, or a dent in our armor is one step closer to… …to the inevitable. 387 grits his teeth as a burning emerald blade of pure love bursts out of each of his hooves and cleaves several enemies in half at once. Dig big, guys. Dig big.