As Ocellus rounded the corner of the dark tunnel that Thorax had been leading her down, she was immediately struck by the size of the stash.
"That's a big one," she said aloud.
"Sure is," Thorax said. "It's the biggest one yet."
Piles of stuff littered the chamber as far back as Ocellus could see. Gold, jewelry, paintings, parchment, all haphazardly amassed with little care for organization (at least, as far as she could tell). Some of the piles were stacked up almost to the ceiling.
Several changelings were already sifting through the contents of the room. More organized stacks of items had been laid out in the mouth of the chamber, where they had been sorted for further investigation. They looked up at the newcomers, then quickly looked away when they saw who it was.
Except for one. A changeling with a blue shell. He just kept staring. Ocellus fought to not look at him.
Thorax scanned the room. "Where is... ah! Arista! Over here!"
A green-shelled changeling looked up at the sound of his name and headed over to them.
"Hello Thorax," he said amicably. "Ocellus."
"Ocellus, this is Arista," Thorax said. "He's in charge here."
"Nice to meet you," Ocellus said, sticking out a hoof. Arista shook it firmly.
"Likewise," he said. "Are you here to help? We could always use more 'lings."
Ocellus nodded. He smiled.
"Good! Here, I'll show you what we're doing."
He led her over to the sorting piles and began explaining their functions. Behind them, Thorax headed back the way they'd came.
"This pile's for valuables. Gold, gems, that sort of thing. This one's for paintings and art, this one's for documents... Chrysalis had a lot of maps, as it turns out.
"...And this pile," Arista said, "is for everything we don't know how to sort."
He gestured at the odd collection of items. Ocellus could see a few globes. Some clothing, all different sizes. An ornate candlestick, but not ornate enough to be valuable. A wooden cup. A tree branch, slightly burned on one end. More such items, each as strange as the last.
"Why did she have all this?" Ocellus asked. "Most of this is just—"
"Garbage?" Arista said. He chuckled. "Who knows. One 'ling's trash is another 'ling's treasure, right?"
"It's not garbage!" Ocellus said. She was smiling. "It's treasure!"
"Anyway," Arista said. If he'd noticed the expression that had appeared on Ocellus' face, he didn't say anything. "Pick a pile and get sorting!"
Ocellus slowly closed the door to her family's home and sighed.
It had been a long day's work, sorting the piles, and all it had brought her was unpleasant memories and aching legs. And they'd still barely made a dent in the stash, even all working together.
And that blue changeling had kept staring at her...
"Welcome home."
Ocellus looked up. It was Elytra, with the twins on her back. Her sisters. Sort of.
Ocellus smiled. "Hello."
"You look tired."
"I was helping sort through that stash they found in the back tunnels," she said. "Thorax asked me to."
Elytra frowned. "I wish he'd be more considerate of your feelings."
"He's doing his best. How have the twins been today?"
"Oh they're just lovely," Elytra said. One of them had climbed onto her head. She smiled as she looked up at him. "Haven't made a peep all day."
"That's good."
"Well, I won't keep you," Elytra said, stepping aside. "You look like you could use a nap."
Ocellus nodded. "I think I will."
She slipped past and further into their domicile, to her room. The bed there was a simple one, but it was comfortable enough. She laid down and almost immediately went to sleep.
As he mind drifted off, one last phrase, conjured up from a memory, drifted across her consciousness like a leaf on a pond.
You'll be just like me.
Ocellus's eyes fluttered open. Her sleep had been uneventful. No dreams; no nightmares. Just black.
Groaning, she raised her head from her pillow and stretched her forelegs out. The light was dim, but the lone candle in the room flickered off her carapace.
She looked at her legs. Blinked.
They were full of holes.
Ocellus just stared at them for a few moments. She reached over with one leg and ran her hoof around the largest hole on the other.
It wasn't a trick of the light.
Ocellus yelped. A green fire enveloped her limbs and suddenly they were whole again. She checked them again just to make sure.
"Ocellus?"
Ocellus' head snapped up. Scute stood in the doorway.
"Is everything alright? It sounded like you were shouting..."
"No!" she said, too quickly. Ingrained lessons on controlling her emotions from when she was a child kicked in, and she steadied herself. "I'm fine. Just had a nightmare."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Alright," Scute said. "I'm just down the hall if you need me, remember."
"I know."
He left, leaving Ocellus alone again.
The blue-shelled changeling was still staring.
Ocellus tried her best to ignore them as she continued sorting through the pile, but she kept sneaking glances back. And she could feel his eyes on her.
So she focused on the object in the pile closest to her. It was a wooden box, about as big as a shoebox. Nothing ornate about it, just wood and iron hinges.
Curious, Ocellus cracked it open.
Inside was a doll.
It was a little pony doll, ragged, made of different colours and textures of cloth. One of the legs had been torn off. The neck had a hole in it, and a little stuffing poked out.
Ocellus choked. She dropped the box and stepped away from it, one hoof going to her mouth. The box clattered to the floor, the sound echoing off the smooth walls of the chamber.
"Ocellus? Everything alright?" Arista asked, from behind her. Ocellus couldn't answer. Her mind was a million miles and many years away.
Arista put a hoof on her shoulder. "Ocellus? Are you not feeling okay?"
Ocellus nodded.
"Why don't you go sit down," he said, gently guiding her away from the pile... and the box.
All the while, the blue-shelled changeling stared.
Ocellus sat just outside the chamber. The dark tunnel extended in both directions as far as she could see.
Her heart hammered in her chest. The doll was still affecting her. She tried to calm her emotions but she couldn't. So she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.
Ocellus had always found meditation beneficial. It was easy to do and did wonders for the mind. Even if it was a pony invention.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
She'd just had a bit of a panic. That was all. She hadn't expected the doll to be there and seeing it had startled her. That was all.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
That was all.
In. Out.
She was feeling better.
In. Out—
...ust like me...
Ocellus' ear flicked.
In. Out.
In. Out.
You'll be... like me...
That hadn't sounded like it had come from inside the chamber.
...just like...
It had sounded like it had come from down the tunnel.
"You'll be just like me."
Ocellus’ eyes snapped open. Her head whipped to the side. Someone had spoken into her ear...
But there was no one there.
"Ocellus? Thorax is here to see you."
It was Elytra's voice. Ocellus rolled over in bed.
"Okay."
Thorax strolled into the room. Ocellus quickly sat up in her bed.
"Hello Ocellus." There was concern in his voice. "Are you not feeling well? I can come back..."
"No," Ocellus said. "It's fine."
"Okay. If you say so."
He sat down on the floor across from her.
"Can we talk?"
"Isn't that what we're doing right now?"
Thorax chuckled.
"I'll get right to the point, then," he said. "I want you to succeed me as leader of the changelings."
Ocellus stared at him dully.
"Not right now, of course," he said. "But later. Once you're older."
"I-I..." Ocellus stammered. "Why?"
"You know why."
"B-but that was before!"
"You have more right to the black throne than I do," Thorax said. "I'm just a drone. You were—"
"No!" Ocellus shrieked, causing Thorax to flinch. "I have no right! I don't want it! I gave that up when I became like you!"
She was crying. When was the last time she'd cried?
"I'm not just saying it because of that," Thorax said, holding up his hooves to appease her. "You're smart, you're capable, you're kind... you'd be a great leader, I'm sure of it!"
"No!" Ocellus cried. "You're mistaken! You don't know anything about me! I'm just like—"
You'll be just like me.
She shook her head.
"Ocellus, please—"
"Thorax?" came Elytra's stern voice from the doorway. "What are you doing to my daughter?"
Thorax flinched. "Nothing. I just..."
“Maybe you should leave.”
He sighed.
"Alright. I'll go. But please, Ocellus, think about it. That's all I ask."
And he left, leaving Ocellus alone.
A child stood in a dimly lit room with smooth walls. The candlelight flickered and glinted off her black chitin.
As her mother watched, the child readied herself to strike, her tiny limbs coiling. In one smooth motion, she pounced, her fangs sinking into the object of her attention: a small stuffed doll. A mockery of a pony.
The child whipped her neck back and forth. Stuffing flew out of the doll's neck.
"Very good!" her mother said, and the child turned to look at her. She looked up and up, but she couldn't find her mother's face.
"You'll be just like me."
Ocellus' eyes shot open just in time to see the glint of the knife.
Reacting with instincts drilled into her since she was a child, she brought her right hoof up. Without her even thinking, it was engulfed in flame and became sharp like a spear.
She wasn't even fully conscious of the situation as she drove her weapon into the chest of the silhouette that stood over her.
The knife clattered to the floor. The silhouette coughed, and Ocellus felt something warm splash onto her face.
She pulled her hoof out of their chest, ringing in her ears. The figure stumbled backwards, tripped and sprawled to the floor.
Ocellus lit her horn.
It was the blue-shelled changeling. Blood pooled around him.
He was twitching.
“You’re just… like… her…” he croaked.
Ocellus looked down. Bright red dripped off of her hoof.
Her legs had holes in them.
She screamed.
"I'm so sorry," Thorax said. "I... I can't even begin to imagine what would have caused Mandible to do this."
Ocellus sat in the living room, blanket wrapped around her. She felt cold.
"Why would he want to kill me?" she said. "You know why."
"I thought all of us had welcomed you with open arms..."
"Of course not," Ocellus spat. "They know who I am. What I am. Who could forgive that?"
"I could. Your parents could."
"No one will now."
"It was self-defense Ocellus—"
"I killed him!" Ocellus said. "I didn't even know I was doing it, I just... did it automatically!"
She looked down. "I'm just like her, aren't I?"
"You're nothing like her."
Ocellus said nothing. Just stared at the ground.
Ocellus crept out of the entrance to the hive, a bag on her back. She cast one glance back at the place, then turned and took to the skies.
It took her several hours to get to her destination. Her wings ached. She didn't care. As she set down on the paved roads of Canterlot, she turned towards the castle. The sun was just starting to taint the eastern sky.
It was easy enough to sneak past the guards; she was a changeling, and deception was in her nature. She made her way into the gardens. Past hedges and trees, until she came to one particular statue.
It depicted three figures. A small pegasus filly. A centaur. And a changeling queen.
It was the latter whom she came to face.
Ocellus stared up at the petrified form of Chrysalis, the tyrant.
She smiled.
"Hello, mother," she said. "Did you miss me?"