If there’s something that hasn’t changed much for the changeling hive in ages it’s the throne room on the top level. “Much” being the keyword there, as certain touches of improvement can be spotted by a keen eye. The anthill structure of the walls remains as well as the building material made from resin mixed with ground up rocks to allow changelings the opening of new passages by simply draining love from an area. However, a keen observer would see that some of the sections of the walls have been repaired recently, something thought impossible for a long time due to changeling inability to create fine, nearly dust-like gravel to mix with their natural resin.
Ever since moving into the Badlands, the black, couch-sized and somewhat even couch-shaped throne has remained the centerpiece of the throne room, now lit by pale glow coming from the skylights in the ceiling and giving the moonlight a green tint. With no pegasi tending the weather in the Badlands, nature can often throw a curveball or two, and the bright moon after hours of a powerful blizzard is one of them. Despite the changelings’ recent crawling out of the dark age of knowledge and technology, no one still knows what mineral the throne is made from. Just like with its surroundings, the gentle touch of upgrades can be seen even here, this time in the form of two fluffy, silk, purple pillows, one on each end, and a thin but long blanket of matching material neatly folded on it.
Alright, actual new stuff is still beyond rare, but there is something - a primitive fireplace, just a square made of perfectly smoothly chiseled stones with one side open and a cast iron sheet on top. Fire is crackling in the fireplace and a stove mixed into one, and an iron pot is steaming on the metal cover. The floor around the fireplace is scorched in a rather large radius, but right now there’s only some kindling of sticks and one larger piece of wood on fire inside it.
The pre-Canterlot invasion military presence is nowhere to be seen, as right now the vast room hosts only a trio of changelings, all sitting on green pillows on the ground in front of the throne which, on closer inspection, look somewhat gooey. Comfortable, though, otherwise the trio of changelings wouldn’t be sitting on them around a small, round table occupied by three dented and abused but still serviceable metal mugs of liquid steaming in the cold air. Two of the changelings are mares. One must be an infiltrator thanks to her overall curvier body shape despite lacking mane or a tail. The second one is more difficult to guess, sporting the athletic build which could be a baseline for moderate physical activity as well as seduction. Having a long, grey mane and tail hint towards the latter, though. The third changeling, the stallion, is clearly a warrior with his main distinguishing feature being his dark, mossy green carapace.
Unlike the two mares, he seems agitated, tapping his foreleg on the floor with a frown on his face.
“I’m going out, this is taking too long!” he shoots a glare towards the throne room’s exit.
“Calm down, 387,” says the changeling mare with no visual customization patiently, clearly used to this, “You know as well as I do that 65536 takes its trip here seriously and as an important part of its physical training. The Queen told us to trust it after the second year, and that’s what we’re going to do.”
387 opts for taking a sip and grumbles something incomprehensible into its mug.
“99, support me here, will you?” she nudges the grey-maned mare.
“As much as I’d like to, 156, I’m a bit worried about 65536 myself. It should have arrived yesterday and with the blizzard…” replies 99, glancing towards the exit, “Where is the Queen anyway?”
“She left a couple hours ago,” 156 shrugs, “She said she was ‘taking 387’s advice’.”
“Taking my advice?” the warrior looks at her, “Is it Hearth’s Warming alrea- holes, exactly the wrong figure of speech to use there.”
“I was wondering if she decided to take a break,” 99 rubs her chin, “You know, a moment of peace and quiet to plan ahead without having to deal with day to day life of the hive thanks to your management.”
“I suppose that played a role as well,” 156 nods with a smile.
“Which particular piece of advice did I give her that would make her disappear into holes-know-where when the equivalent of Princess Luna’s adopted foal is supposed to be visiting and, let me repeat, is missing?!” 387 throws his forelegs into the air in desperation.
“Her exact words were - if the overreacting smartass doesn’t figure it out, just let him foam at the mouth and steam,” 156 gives 387 a smug smirk.
“That’s it! To holes with her, I’m going outside to look for 65536!” 387 stands up, scowling, “156, give me a warrior and an infiltrator who specializes in long-range communication.”
“Sit down,” 156 doesn’t stop smiling, “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Oh really? How do you intend to stop me?” 387 can’t keep himself angry at 156 no matter how hard he tries, so his expression turns into disbelief, “Come ooooon!”
99, despite her rank, remains quiet and listens to technically her subordinates but in reality her superiors in both experience and the Queen’s unofficial designation.
“Well,” 156 tilts her head, her smile growing even more pleasant, “If I was that kind of a changeling, I could call on a group of warriors to pile on you. In this case, however, I think I’ll use a secret weapon I prepared just for this situation,” she walks over to 387 who tenses up, ready for anything, and plants a kiss on his mouth with the speed and precision of a striking snake.
99 snickers into her mug, earning 387’s stern glance.
“What was that for? I’m pretty sure you can't control or paralyze me or-” 387 immediately mentally checks his body for any signs of trouble.
“That was because I like you despite you being a pain in the ass. And, whether you believe it or not, so does the Queen,” 156 turns away, returning to her pillow, “Also, to distract your paranoid head from one thing.”
“Which is?” 387 decidedly ignores the comment about Chrysalis.
“The report that our sentries by the entrance spotted 65536 a minute ago heading towards them, safe and sound despite the night’s blizzard. That guy’s impossible to keep down. So…” she raises her mug, “Ready to admit defeat?”
387 checks the recent hive mind traffic and quickly exchanges a few flickering images with the warrior and infiltrator pair stationed by the hive’s main entrance. He didn’t think 156 would be lying, but some habits die harder than others. In the end, he sighs and sits back down, defeated but relieved.
156 leans over the table and pats his head, earning a grumble.
“See? Maybe if you can’t ever trust the Queen, you can believe in 65536,” she says.
“I suppose-”
387’s admission gets interrupted by an appearance of a hive link entirely out of nowhere coupled with the pop of air near the ceiling being displaced by a drone suddenly materializing and immediately dropping in an arc towards the ground.
“WOOO! THIS IS GONNA MAKE FOR A HUUUGE SKIP!” yells the drone before it hits the ground with a terrifyingly sickening crack of shattering chitin, completely forgetting to use its wings out of sheer excitement, “Owww!” it dizzily raises its foreleg and waves it, “Summa bits arokay!”