He had escaped a tight spot thanks to quick thinking and pure, thoroughly weird and unlikely, chance – but Lightning Mane had not secured any loot on this day, meaning that the teal-colored Pegasus was once again broke. A disturbingly powerful rumbling in his stomach reminded him of the consequences of an unsuccesful day, but there was little he could do save trying his best to ignore it as he huddled himself into a dark corner of an abandoned building.
It was a beautiful night, Lightning had to admit as his view crossed through a broken window to capture the sight of the illuminated night sky above the the roofs of the big city. Not a single cloud obscured the look at the thousands of twinkling stars or the large yellow full-moon. Merely a single large tower, raising above the surrounding row-houses by several stories, protruded into the dark black night sky and obscuring the view of the moon and adding its own dim lights to the panorama.
However, it was also a cold night, filled with a fresh breeze that chased any revelers back inside their homes. Perhaps it was the clear sky, but this night had been at least several degrees colder than the last few nights and albeit it was nowhere near freezing, the sudden drop in temperature had made it feel much more dire than it probably was.
Lightning Mane, at least, was shaking. His empty stomach had made the experience of cold worse and he tried to huddle his body even closer into the dirty corner that was his resting place, trying to leave as little surface as possible exposed to the fresh spring air. It was a futile fight against conflicting needs of his body, as everytime he tried to pull himself tighter, he squeezed the crippled wing to his left and a searing pain shot through his entire body, making Lightning Mane jump and scream in agony.
„It'd be a wonder if I can sleep at all tonight,“ he sighed desperate and exhausted. Again he tried to, somehow, rest comfortably against the brick wall and, somehow, keep himself warm at night. Again he couldn't keep his left wing, which was bound to gravity more than to Lightnings will, from exploding into a cascade of pulsating pain. Finally the Pegasus gave up, rose from his resting place and began to walk aimlessly around the abandoned building, kicking small cobblestones around its hallways as he went.
It must have been a beautiful building, sometime long ago, inhabitated by wealthy and happy ponies as a few rotten pieces of broken furniture and the occasional faded picture of smiling unicorns testified. Everything worth taking had, of course, been taken years before Lightning Mane entered the house through its shattered backdoor, maybe even by the ponies who had live here themselves as they had moved out, leaving their old home to the desperate and the destitute.
There was little use in musing over such things and Lightning tried to redirect his throughts, only to find himself with even more hopeless ones as he recalled the events of the day. If a Changeling could replace that grey colt named Silver Thread just like that, then anypony, he realized, could be a Changeling these days. The implications of this fact would probably be dire for almost everyone in Equestria, but Lightning Mane couldn't think of anypony where it would be of consequence for him whether they were real or changeling. In the world of the teal-colored Pegasus there was no one who could be replaced to take advantage of him. He laughed at that thought. It was a sad, depressive laugh straight into the face of misery. He wasn't even worth being taken advantage of. For all Lightning could care, the changeling invasion was the concern of the rest of Equestria with its friendships and families. His life would proceed as it always had, a daily struggle to survive the day and make the best of his existence on the fringe of ponykind.
Across the street, Lightning could see two earth ponies and three fillies gathered around a table for dinner in their lit-up and heated apartment. It was mere meters away from him, just across the street, but it could just as well have been but a faint twinkle on the horizon, as distant as the stars on the clear sky. This happy family was completely removed from his own lonely life in the cold of these ruins and yet, seeing them together like this, he couldn't help but cringe a little at the thought that the three fillies were maybe having lunch now not with their parents, but with strange parasitic creatures called changelings.
Lightning discarded his earlier thought. It did make a difference whether the ponies around him were replaced by changelings, even if he couldn't exactly tell why it mattered.
„Why do I even care,“ he said to himself, but surrendering immediately. „I probably can't help it. I do care.“
As he turned around, he was suddenly struck by a sharp pain, not on his left wing, but on the back of his head. „By Celestia,“ he yelled in anger, facing whoever had just attacked him only to take a short glimpse at the black carapace body of another, seemingly surprised, changeling with a club. He had obviously not expected Lightning to withstand the blow, but he was quick to correct that mistake with another strike before Lightning could react properly to the threat. The second hit let Lightnings world black out and he dropped to the ground.
-
When he finally came to, Lightnings first thought was, to his own surprise, that it was much warmer wherever he was now. Instead of the cool breeze of the night air, he was surrounded by a thick, suffocating moist, pregnant with the smell of decay. Only gradually could his eyes adjust to the intense darkness and for several minutes longer he was left to exploring his surroundings mostly by smell, which alone could already reveal to him he was most probably somewhere in the sewers under the ground of Manehattan.
Even after he had gotten used to the intense dark he was merely able to figure out rough shapes around him and thus had to move carefully around his surroundings, reaffirming his vision by touching whatever he glimpsed. This way he more or less quickly figured out that he was being held captive in a small room with a reinforced door being the only way out. Of course it was locked and it opened to the inside, as Lightning realized when repeated strikes with his hindlegs only served to drive the door deeper into the frame.
As he explored the cracks in the rough stone walls with the faint hope of discovering some other unexpected escaping route, he had to wonder if he himself was being replaced by a changeling after he had spent thoughts only on the consequences of other ponies really being such creatures in secret.
„If this isn't a textbook case of irony,“ he grinned defiantly even as he was forced to realize that the door really was the only exit from this dungeon. Lightning surrendered his futile attempts at escaping and collapsed to the ground, deciding that perhaps if he waited long enough, something would happen that could give him new perspectives. Maybe someone would come, he hoped quietly, even though he was aware of how unlikely it was that anypony would come specifically for him. If anything, his best bet would be a coincidental rescue by somepony not even aware of his presence. „At least,“ he sighed, „it's warm down here.“
Under his hoofs, Lightning could feel soft moss growing in large spots across the room and he moved his body to rest comfortably on as much of the plants as he could manage. He quickly lost his sense of time and was no longer sure how long he had already been waiting in his prison, spending numerous thoughts that revolved in circles about what it possibly might be that got him down here. Was it revenge for stopping that other changeling? Was it something that they could get by only taking his place? Was it maybe just pure chance that made Lightning Mane a target for the changelings? Or were they in fact taking over the position of all ponies in Equestria, no matter if beggar or royalty?
Finally, the door opened and light illuminated the room as the changeling who had attacked Lightning stepped in. At least he guessed that it must have been the same changeling, he couldn't really tell them apart. Their black, insectoid bodies were almost identical and their expressions so alien that Lightning couldn't read them.
„You're awake, I see,“ for the first time in his life, Lightning listened to the voice of a changeling, its true voice. It was an unpleasant hissing, swollen with self-importance and pride. „Don't get your hopes up, you will stay here forever. I really just need your form.“
With that, the changeling burst into green flames and Lightning, who had jumped up at the sight of the changeling as early as it had entered the room, now stared back into the eyes of a perfect imitation of himself, as he had already done so once before on Foal Street. And like before, his Doppelganger dropped to the ground as its legs were robbed of all strength and gave way for the body.
„I don't believe this,“ the changeling hissed, surrounded by green flames once again and returning to its true form. „You must be the loneliest pony in all of Equestria,“ it mocked Lightning with a wide grin consisting of threatingly sharp teet.
But Lightning had wasted little time when he realized his opportunity and leapt forward at the sight of his Doppelganger going back to changeling again. He tried to beat the creature with one of his hooves, but the changeling managed to evade, instead flinging a green lightning bolt from its crooked horn at the pegasus, whom it missed, leaving a spot of burned moss on the ground.
Lightning Manes next strike hit bullseye and pummeled the changeling straight back through the door, leaving a bright red hoofmark on its face. The pegasus leapt through the door as well, escaping his captivity before it could get closed once again, but the changeling hadn't even thought of that and instead used the split second it had between getting back to its feet and facing Lightning Mane once again to try and escape down the hallway at full trot.
Lightning immediately gave chase to the changeling, confident he could catch up with the creature rather quickly. Then he noticed the many doors lining up on the hallway, at least a dozen, from one of which the booming of hooves knocking on a wooden surface echoed throughout the sewers. There was another prisoner, just like he had been, alarmed by the sound of a battle outside of his cell and Lightning remembered his own thoughts when locked up in the chamber, how he clinged to the faintest hope of someone coming, not even for him, and he couldn't help but wonder how much longer the other pony had been locked up down here.
When finally he noticed that all the doors, just like the one of his own room, opened to the inside, he made a decision to end the pursuit of the changeling and turned around, facing the door from which the sounds came.
„Don't worry, I'll get you out of there!“ he shouted out to the pony on the other side. „But you'll need to step back from the door!“
Lightning Mane paused, took a deep breath and, at the count of three, hit the door with all the strength he could muster from his hindlegs. The door let out a tortured sound in its hinges, the sound of splintering wood and bending metal, but it withstood this first attempt at forcing it open.
„I'm not yet done,“ Lightning coughed and hit the door another time, noticing that it already gave way by several centimeters, obviously close to opening completely.
„And that makes three,“ the Pegasus shouted thriumphantly as he hit the door another and final time, its lock ripped out of the splintering wood by the sheer force of the kick and the remainder of it flung into the cell. These had obviously never been intended as prison cells, an exhausted Lightning Mane noted to himself in a moment of surprising analytical clarity. Perhaps they were but storage rooms for sewer maintenance. Not that it mattered much, in the end.
As he stepped into the room, Lightning Mane was a little surprised to see a familiar face greeting him. Much more rugged, roughed up, dirty and scrawny than he remembered the pony – or well, his shape - but still very obviously him.
„I know you,“ he noted with slight disbelief towards Silver Thread, the pony whose changeling replacement Lightning had already overwhelmed last day. But then again, he realized, it made sense. The real Silver Thread had still been very much amiss.
„... what?“ Silver Thread stared at the teal-colored Pegasus in utter surprise. Had he expected Lightning to say anything, this was definitely far off.
„Well, perhaps not you,“ Lightning replied, quickly explaining how he had encountered Silver Threads changeling replacement and gave him a heroic beating, of course leaving out his whole initially criminal intent in the encounter and painting himself in a favourable light. When everything was said, Silver Thread was quicker than Lightning Mane to express a thought they both had harbored.
„Let us leave this dreadful place.“
Lightning nodded, but then proceeded to pace down the hallway, knocking loudly at each of the other doors he passed. There were no responses and, having finished this task, he turned back to Silver Thread.
„I just wanted to make sure we leave no one behind. Let's go.“
Without having to say it out aloud, Lightning took the lead and hurried down the hallway, followed by Silver Thread who didn't know that the Pegasus wasn't even sure which way would direct the two of them to the surface and was merely pacing the same way as the changeling had escaped. This only got them so far as Lightning Mane could actually tell which way the creature was headed, but when he came towards an intersection with three possible routes to take, he was clueless and stopped short. For a few seconds he paced back and forth, trying to figure out whether there were any clues as to where each of the roads would lead, but when there were none, he merely exclaimed: „Oh well, here we go,“ and started running down one of the ways, as ignorant about its destination as he had been before. Silver Thread shrugged, but said nothing and followed Lightning Mane without questions. When the sound of rushing water grew closer and closer, the pegasus wasn't even able to tell whether it was a good or a bad sign. He had never been in the sewers before and neither had Silver Thread, he guessed from the similiarily hopeless expression on the stallions face.
Finally, the hallway ended into a wider tunnel, channeling the waste of what seemed to be entire downtown Manehattan. The stench of fecal matter that had already been noticeable back in their imprisonment was suddenly far more pronounced, now that the two ponies could actually witness its unpleasant source. Luckily, as especially Silver Thread thought, expressed by his careful steps near the sewerage, the channel was lined by two dry and mostly clean pathways.
Then Lightning Mane began to notice the many pairs of green eyes, lit up in the twilight of the tunnels, monitoring the two of them from a distance. It didn't take much guesswork for him to realize that the changeling had returned with reinforcements.
„Can you fight?“ he turned to Silver Thread, who stared back at him in sheer terror.
„Who do you mistake me for,“ he said, his voice shaking. „I'm a stallion of class and status, I've had the joy of a peaceful life. I am not...“
Lightning cut him short. „A simple yes or no would have sufficed.“ He sighed. „I'd probably have been better off with your changeling imitation,“ the Pegasus added as he recalled his encounter with the changeling, unafraid to face Lightning Mane in a fight.
The eyes closed in on the two ponies from both directions of the tunnel, revealing the silhouettes of their black bodies in the dark. Without doubt, they were changelings, two dozens at least. Lightning scratched the ground with his forehoofs, threatening to attack any changeling daring to come close enough to the Pegasus. Meanwhile, Silver Thread backed away against Lightnings rear, scared by the prospect of being attacked by even a single one of these creatures.
„Look, I may not be anywhere near the ruffian you are,“ Silver Thread adressed Lightning. „But even I can tell that this isn't a fight we can win, even if I were any use in such a ruffle. Don't you have any other plans?“ He looked at the Pegasus with desperate hope.
Lightning looked around. There were changelings in front of him, hesitant to come any closer, and in his back, encouraged by the sight of Silver Thread to approach them faster than those in front of the Pegasus. There were also changelings on the other side of the canal, watching the whole scenery with great interest and twitching with their dragonfly-wings as if to signal that, unlike the ponies, they were not in the slightest obstructed by the fast flowing waste in between.
„Well?“ Silver Thread sounded very alarmed. The changelings were almost within reach now.
„I do have one,“ Lightning said with a grin on his face. „But you're not going to like it,“ he added.
This caused a confused look on Silver Threads face, until he saw Lightning glimpsing straight at the stream of waste next to their feet. Now his expression was terrorized.
„Tell me you're joking,“ Silver Thread begged, but before he could have received any answer, Lightning had already pushed him over the edge of the canal, just in time to evade the first changeling trying to seize him. Together the two ponies splashed into the thick mass of watered down refuse, an event which Lightning would later describe as unpleasant, while the mere memory of it would still cause Silver Thread to feel sick years after it.
As if being washed down the sewers alongside the fecal matter of thousands of ponies wasn't enough, the changelings weren't inclined to abort their chase, instead using their wings to repeatedly pass over the two ponies, trying to grab them and thus drag them out of the water. Lightnings answer to this was to dive down whenever a changeling passed by, dragging the disgusted Silver Thread down with him every time he did so, which caused the grey colt to explode into a flurry of curses and insults most unfitting for a pony of his status.
The speed of the stream increased noticeably with every meter, but that wouldn't be enough to stop the changelings from trying to prevent the escape of their prisoners. What instead did so was reason enough for Silver Thread to panic, as the water seemingly rushed towards a solid brick wall.
„A dead end,“ the grey colt screamed, but Lightning Mane was alert enough to realize that water could not rush towards a dead end at such speed.
„Hold your breath and cross your hooves,“ he said. „Let's hope this that there is enough space for the two of us.“
Silver Thread was about to object to whatever it was that the pegasus was planning, but there was too little time left to both finish this conversation and follow his advice. The upper-class pony decided that holding his breath just in time before the stream dragged him underwater was, indeed, the wisest course of action.
It took both Lightning Mane and Silver Thread much concentration and energy to not let go of their breath and consequently drown as the darkness of the brown mass they swum in engulfed the two of them, the powerful stream throwing them around their own axis in the small tunnel of the sewer, making them lose all their remaining orientation to the point that they could no longer tell up from down. Had there been any obstacle, a fence maybe, this would have been a thoroughly horrid end to their lives, but they were lucky and Lightnings gamble paid off as they shot out of the large pipe alongside the waste of Manehattan and into the city's harbor. The fresh seawater washed off all the disgusting filth of the sewers and a bright red morning sun greeted them, as if it was just another day about to begin.
Both Lightning Mane and Silver Thread gasped for air, then screened their surroundings to see if there was any changeling to be seen. But an old sailor was the only other creature around, save for a few seagulls.
„I tell ya,“ he said with a croaking voice. „There be better places for ya young folks to linger than these sewers.“