//------------------------------// // 22: A Waking Nightmare // Story: Death of a Queen, V2. // by Arkane12 //------------------------------// Chrysalis stared at the map on the ceiling. After all this time watching it, she had developed a sort of fascination with it. She didn’t recognize the world it showed. From the few bits of script that were remotely legible, it was clear they were just gibberish. Or at least foreign.  Despite that, she couldn’t help but admire the passion and color of the work. Each stroke of the brush that created this masterpiece oozed with skill. The subtle changes in hue, the beautiful, mosaic pattern of the different countries, even just the fluid movement of the lines that formed the borders. Perfection incarnate. Hours of observation burned her eyes.  There was only one problem marring her perfect evening: Cadance. She’d arrived nearly twenty minutes earlier, but had been standing outside, unmoving, shining like a beacon that should have been obvious for every changeling in a mile-wide radius. She must’ve heard Chrysalis’ thoughts and knocked at the door.  “Go away, Cadance.” She didn’t even have to remove her gaze from the map.  “Chrysalis, I . . . How did you know it was me?” the princess called through the door.  “Go away, Cadance!” she repeated, her voice growing louder.  “Alright. I tried being nice, but you’re not giving me a choice.” Cadance’s tone fell quiet. She whispered to the others outside, just loud enough for Chrysalis to hear, but not enough to pick out the words. It took a few seconds before she recognized the sounds of jingling keys and a clicking lock.  The bedroom door swung inward, spilling the hallway’s light over the dark room.  Cadance stepped in first, with two guards on either flank. These soldiers wore neither the blinding gold of sunlight nor the sultry violet of the moon. Rather, the plate that covered them tip-to-tail shimmered a sliver-blue, polished to the point where it more closely resembled glass than metal.  “Why can’t you ever let me enjoy my imprisonment?” Chrysalis asked wistfully.  “Look, I came here to . . . W-What are you doing?”  Chrysalis could only imagine the scene from the pony’s perspective. At the current moment, she teetered at the edge of her bed canopy, using her wings to keep her upright while she stared unblinkingly at the ceiling. “I’m admiring my map.”  “You . . . I don’t . . .” Cadance shook her head. “I think you’ve been in here by yourself too long. Lucky for you, I’m here to let you out for a little bit. I want you to do something for me.”  Chrysalis laughed. “Not on your life.” “Look,” Cadance stepped closer. “I want you to do something for Twilight.”  Chrysalis mimicked a thoughtful face, before flatly saying, “No. Remember what happened last time you tried to order me around? I would hate to have to injure another one of your--” Cadance’s horn flashed. Chrysalis panicked momentarily as her wings fell still. Without their momentum to keep her upright, she tumbled down, landing tail first on the tile below, sending a series of cracks webbing out from the point of impact. However, the changeling herself seemed to have sustained only superficial damage in return.  The spell faded, and Chrysalis uncurled from her heap on the floor. “You’d best learn to sleep with one eye open, Princess,” she warned.  “Are you done with the theatrics yet? I’d like to have my answer tonight,” Cadance said, turning her back on the changeling.  “What makes you think I have any inclination to listen to you?” The alicorn stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. “Because this is for Twilight’s sake. And as you said the other night, you have at least a shred of respect for her. Also because I think you may be losing your mind being cooped up in here all day.”  As much as Chrysalis hated to admit it, the Princess might have had a point. “Look, if it means that you’ll leave me alone, then fine. But let’s make it quick. I have better things to do tonight.”  “Thank you, Chrysalis. That’s . . . almost civil of you.”  The squad of guard lowered their weapon, allowing Chrysalis to pass by unimpeded. As she followed Cadance out into the hallway, the soldiers took up position behind her. Though they did not brandish their weapons at her, their glares were as sharp as any blade.  Cadance led the group only a dozen steps before she stopped. She turned to face Chrysalis and motioned to the door beside her. The changeling recognized the six-pointed star painted on the door.  “Wait here a moment.” Cadance assaulted the door with a series of knocks.  “One second,” Twilight sang. Chrysalis and Cadance stood side-by-side, sneaking the occasional glance at the other and hoping they didn’t notice. The soldiers shuffled silently. One of them cleared their throat into his hoof. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”  The door’s handle glowed purple. They swung inward, revealing Twilight standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide as she took in the situation waiting for her. “Cadance? Chrysalis? Did something happen?”  “I thought Chrysalis could use some . . . social interaction” Cadance explained. “So, I had her brought here. After everything that happened today, I thought the two of you might want to talk some things out.”  “I didn’t have a choice in the matter, by the way,” Chrysalis added.  “Oh?” Twilight sniffled. “Well, I suppose I have time to talk. Come on inside, Chrysalis.” Twilight ducked out of the way and beckoned her guest with a hoof.  Chrysalis’ gaze hovered between the two princesses, who offered little more than a smile in return. “Fine. But in return for my . . . compliance, I have a request. I’ve yet to feed tonight, so I want you to bring Thorax here when he returns.”  Cadance nodded. “I’ll have him sent as soon as he gets back.”  As she looked down at the Princess of Love, Chrysalis finally realized the issue that had been scratching at the edges of her consciousness. An aura of love still hovered around the princess. Beneath that, Chrysalis could still taste the hatred she aimed at her, though it had lessened slightly. But this time, a new ingredient had been added in. Slivers of many different emotions shifted constantly, hinting at a deep doubt in the princess’ heart. A doubt that Chrysalis didn’t understand.  “Thank you, Princess Cadance,” she said. The words left a bitter taste in her mouth and a faint anxiety in her gut. Taking one last look at her escorts, Chrysalis crossed the threshold into Twilight’s room. The door shut behind her, trapping her in here with Equestria’s newest princess.  “Well, this was certainly a surprise,” Twilight said, walking deeper into the room.  Several oil lamps illuminated the space. An unmade, queen-sized bed sat in the corner, covered with a couple books and a stack of hoof-written notes. Opposite that, a fire burned in a brick fireplace. A steel-framed couch and chair were positioned a comfortable distance from the flames.  “This is your room? It’s less messy than I expected,” Chrysalis said.  “Thanks?” Twilight tilted her head. “Come on, we can sit by the fire and talk.”  Without so much as a concerned look, Twilight turned her back to the changeling. Chrysalis winced. You didn’t need to be much of a fighter to realize that you never turned your back to a possible threat. If Chrysalis wanted to try something, Twilight would never even see it coming.  A single snap. A solid kick. Myriad choices could set her free. Despite that, Chrysalis couldn’t move. Unfamiliar feelings swirled through her. But she feared one of them above all else. Hesitation. Before she knew it, Twilight reached the couch and returned her attention to the changeling. And just like that, Chrysalis’ opportunity slipped away.  “Are you okay? Is your leg hurting? You can take my shoulder if you think that would help,” Twilight offered. She took a step toward her guest, but Chrysalis stopped her with a wave of her hoof.  “I’m not some crippled filly,” Chrysalis growled. “You don’t have to treat me as one.” The princess’ aura shifted, turning a darker, more somber color. “I didn’t mean to insult you or anything. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.” She shrugged. “It’s not a weakness to accept help, you know.”  “Of course it is,” Chrysalis scoffed. “The whole world runs on a system of give and take. Favors for favors. It’s something you should learn if you hope to lead anypony someday. If you start to rely on others, they’ll start to expect more from you in return.”  Twilight frowned. “That’s a sad way of looking at things.”  “It’s a realistic way of looking at things,” Chrysalis corrected. “You have to learn to do things for yourself. Or at the very least, have the confidence to convince those around you that’s the case.” Chrysalis’ inched forward, her hooves growing heavier with each step. “Is that really what you believe?” Twilight asked.  “It was the way my mother taught me.” Her wings buzzed instinctively at the thought of the changeling matriarch. “Even after everything that happened between the two of us, I can’t deny that she ruled her kingdom for longer than I ruled mine. There must have been a reason for that, don’t you think? Still, it seems that my lessons went unheeded by my children.”  Twilight watched the flames flicker. “You don’t think they’re better off like this? They won’t ever have to worry about starving. They don’t have to . . . to struggle, just so they can live their lives. They can be happy.”  “That goes both ways, Twilight,” Chrysalis said. “The more they come to rely on ponies, the more of their own power they give up. They shackle themselves to your kind in order to live. But what sort of life is that? They’re not equals. They’re pets.” She lowered herself into her chair slowly, trying not to put pressure on her weakened joint. “Whatever. It’s not like I’ll be around to see my kind fall anyways.”  “You sound certain of that. You never once thought that you might have been wrong?”  Chrysalis scoffed. “Forgive me, I try not to let dreams and hope cloud the truth. Perhaps you princesses will not demand my death, but it doesn’t matter.” Behind her closed eyelids, she saw the blank plinth in the gardens. “One way or another, I doubt I’ll ever leave this castle again.”  “Why do you say things like that?” Twilight snapped. “You make it sound like you’re already dead.”  Chrysalis recoiled from the pony’s sudden outburst. For several minutes, only the crackling of firewood filled the air. The flames bellowing out from the brick matched the dusty orange sky outside.  Eventually, Twilight spoke up again. “I’ve been working on my cure. It passed every safety and effectiveness test I could think of. We’re planning on administering it to Celestia when Luna’s finished with today’s court session.” Chrysalis frowned. “Good for you.”  “You know something? I couldn’t have made it this far without your help.” Twilight inched closer. “I doubt I would have thought of ancient changeling poison magic as the cause--”  “It’s not poison,” Chrysalis interrupted, causing Twilight to raise an eyebrow. “It’s a spell fueled by hatred. It’s a curse that can only be cast on somepony when you desire nothing more than to end their life.” In her mind’s eye, she saw his eyes. Lifeless, yet watching. “And casting exacts a toll on the caster. It’s not something used lightly.”  “I don’t get it.” Twilight leaned on her foreleg. “I know we messed with your plans, but do you really hate us that much?” Twilight asked with what sounded like genuine pain in her words.  “No. You were like insects to me. An annoyance. You only beat me because you got lucky,” Chrysalis spat. “But when she came to my hive and found me, she . . .” The vision in her mind changed again. “She wanted to help me. Wanted to save me . . . and it made me furious. I’d never hated anything as much as I did her at that moment.”  Twilight’s gaze fell to the floor. “She just wanted to help.”  “The only fate worse than death is being unworthy of it,” Chrysalis muttered under her breath. “I’d rather die fighting than live the rest of my life as nothing more than a trophy for the one who beat me.”  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Twilight said, rubbing the hidden bruise on her chest. “But there is another option.” She slid even closer to Chrysalis. “One where you get to live your life and be happy, one where you’re treated like a living thing and not some trophy. Isn’t that worth fighting for?”  “Honestly?” Chrysalis looked up to the ceiling. “I don’t know anymore.”  A knock at the door interrupted whatever Twilight wanted to say next.  “Princess Twilight,” a stallion’s voice called through the door. “Princess Luna has just sent word that the last case for today is finished and that she’ll be up momentarily. Are you ready?”  “Yes. I’ll be there in a second,” Twilight called back. She rose from the couch and approached Chrysalis. “Can I show you what I was talking about?” Chrysalis stared her down. “Why are you looking at me like–”  Twilight leaned in, threading one of her arms over Chrysalis’ shoulder and pulling her in close for a hug. A whole host of reactions exploded through Chrysalis’ head, forming a deadlock and leaving her paralyzed in the pony’s grasp.  “You’ve had a tough life, Chrysalis. I’m sorry.”  Chrysalis eased her own spindly limbs over Twilight. One swift strike. Sever the spine. Break the neck. Damage the wings, and use the shock. Over a dozen different methods flickered through her mind, each more brutal than the last.  “You’re a fool, Twilight,” Chrysalis growled as she tightened her grip, trapping Twilight. Twilight’s aura shifted again, this time glowing with sudden fear. She could feel the pony’s heart race against her chest. And then, in a moment of weakness, she loosened her grasp. Twilight chuckled awkwardly as she stepped back. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought you were going to . . . you know.”  “I . . . I thought about it,” Chrysalis admitted, feeling the slightest tinge of shame. This was the pony that ruined her life. And now she couldn’t even bring herself to make her pay for it. At least, that’s the lie she kept telling herself. “Oh.” Twilight paled, but smiled. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I’ll consider that our first step.”  “Step towards what?”  Twilight took Chrysalis’ hoof in her own. Her emotions glowed like a halo around her. Happiness and relief were first. But there was something else. Something sweeter, buried deeper down in the princess’ core. “Towards friendship. And towards a new life. For you, and for Equestria. Now come on, we’ve got a princess to save.”  Twilight led Chrysalis into Celestia’s bedroom. Doctor Heart sat in the far corner. His nurses were gathered in the lounge near the foot of Celestia’s bed. None of them looked up as the princess and her guest arrived.  “Doctor Heart? Is Luna here yet?” Twilight asked. “No. She’s on her way, though.” The doctor rose and set his drink on the table beside him. “Have you made the necessary preparations for tonight?”  “I have.” Twilight dug into her saddlebag to retrieve the flask and the accompanying notes. She submitted them to the doctor for scrutiny. “What do you think? Does everything look okay?”  The doctor’s lips moved indistinctly as he read over her reports. When he finished, he returned the princess’ items. “Can’t say for sure. At the very least, your testing and safety inspections have been thorough. The ponies down in the lab would be impressed by your attention to detail. Well done.”  Twilight’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you, Doctor.”  He turned to his nurses. “You three, you’re on break for the next few minutes. I’ll stay and observe the cure’s application. Wait outside, and be ready to step in if something happens.” The doctor turned back to Twilight as his underlings shuffled out. “I see you’ve also brought Chrysalis along.”  The changeling’s head raised at the sound of her name.  “I did,” Twilight said. “She helped with the cure. It’s only right she gets to be here when it’s used.”  The doctor shuffled past Twilight. “Chrysalis, how’s the leg doing? Still hurting?”  “I can handle pain, Doctor,” the changeling scoffed.  “I’m going to take that as a yes. We’ll get that checked out in the morning.” On the other side of the room, his quill scribbled down a reminder. “What time are you usually up by?” “I am here,” Luna announced as she glided into the room. Her wings snapped to her side as stepped across the threshold into the bedroom. The guards shut the door behind her. “What do you say we get this treatment underway, Twilight?”  As infectious as Luna’s enthusiasm was, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a knot of anxiety in her chest. The lunar alicorn’s mane looked unkempt. Her eyes were bloodshot and sat atop heavy bags. When she stood still, she looked ready to collapse.  “Everything alright, Luna?” Twilight asked.  “Of course. Why do you ask? Did Doctor Heart say something?” She shot the doctor a mean look. “Do not listen to his ramblings. He is old and cranky.”  Twilight glanced toward the doctor, who only shrugged in response. “Alright,” she continued. “Let’s do this then.” “Finally. Hopefully I can go to bed afterwards? I’m tired.”  Chrysalis’ voice startled Luna. She spun around, her magic ready, but Chrysalis didn’t flinch. “And why are you here?” “I asked her here,” Twilight said, stepping in. Luna whipped around to glare at her younger counterpart. “I figured that since she helped, she could be here to see this through.”  “That should not have been your choice to make.” Luna didn’t lose her scowl, but she did quell her magic. “Where is Princess Cadance? What does she have to say on this matter?”  Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “It doesn't matter what Cadance has to say, because she is not the Princess of Friendship.  I am.  And this is a friendship problem. Meaning that it is my choice to make. Seems Cadance finally realized that." “Is that so?” Luna twitched. “She and I will need to have a long chat once we are done here.” She turned away with a huff. “Regardless, I suppose that, if Chrysalis’ presence here is not too intrusive, then she can stay.”  “Shall we continue?” Doctor Heart asked pointedly, ushering the other ponies forward.  Twilight and Luna moved to Celestia’s bedside. Chrysalis and Doctor Heart appeared at the side opposite them. Although a lamp on the bedside table glowed brightly, most of the room’s light came from the full moon outside.  Twilight lifted the flask of medicine. She had made sure to heat it a bit before retrieving it from the lab, thinning out the mud-colored liquid. She popped the cork from the bottleneck and set it aside. “Doctor would you mind?” she asked, motioning to Celestia.  The doctor nodded. With a light touch, he pulled back Celestia’s sheets. Her body had continued to wither since the last time. Though she was still breathing, the eldest alicorn’s body sported a long black scar down the length of her flank. Veins forked off the main wound, reaching all the way up her neck. The scent of necrosis flooded Twilight’s nose, causing her to cough.  “Even if this works,” Doctor Heart started. “Her body has sustained serious damage. Something like this would require severe rehabilitation.”  “We can worry about that once we are sure she is safe, Doctor,” Luna said.  Twilight held the glass over the wound, tilting it just enough to drizzle it over the wound. The sludgy mix seeped into her graying fur. Once a little under a quarter of the bottle was spent, Twilight righted it, halting the stream.  “Now what?” Luna asked. Her words were rapid. Panicked, almost. “Stay calm, Luna. If my tests are anything to go by, it will take some time before something happens.” She glanced down at Luna’s shaking leg. “I know it’s difficult, but now we just need to wait and see if it works.”  The four of them all sat where they were, silent as death. Even the night outside was quiet enough that nopony could hear anything save for the chugging of the clock’s gears. When enough time passed with no overt changes, Twilight added a second dose. The medical salve spilled off the patient’s body, staining her sheets.  “It does not appear to be working, Twilight,” Luna said.  “It takes a bit of time,” Twilight repeated, not as confident as the last time. Luna’s breathing was growing quicker. “Would you be so kind as to define ‘a bit’ of time? Must we leave it overnight?” “It only took a few minutes,” Twilight explained, increasingly flustered. Sixty ticks of the swinging pendulum passed over what felt like days. Then sixty more. Then sixty more. Twilight’s body felt cold. The bottle shook in her magical grip even after she emptied it.  “This does not seem right.” Luna shook her head.  “No. It doesn’t.” Twilight tossed the bottle aside. The glass cracked as it bounced across the tile floor. “I don’t get it. I tested it on so many different types of magic.” Her voice faltered. “A dozen different spells. Three different potions. Even a pegasus feather. It worked on every single one of them.”  “I’m sorry, Princess,” Doctor Heart said. “It seems that this particular spell is unaffected by it. Perhaps with a few tweaks–” “You had something to do with this, did you not?” Luna stared at her sister’s body, her eyes glassy. The other ponies in the room exchanged glances, not sure who exactly her words were meant for.  “I’m sorry, Luna.” Twilight put a hoof on Luna’s heaving shoulders. “I thought–” Luna pushed Twilight’s hoof away and marched over to Chrysalis. “You! This is all your fault.” Her glassed-over gaze became sharp. Violent.  Despite her not being the target of such a glare, the fur on Twilight’s neck bristled. “Luna, calm down,” Twilight whispered. Her gaze ticked up at the stallion standing across from her. He, too, was tense, watching Luna through narrowed eyes.  “I will not be calm,” Luna growled. “You said yourself that your cure worked on every other bit of magic. It seems far too convenient that this is the one spell that it could not stop.”  “Are you insinuating something?” Chrysalis asked, frowning. The wind picked up outside, causing the windows to shake in their frames.  Luna’s voice took on a hard edge. “It is obvious that the cure was sabotaged.” Without taking her attention off Luna, Chrysalis climbed off the couch. “I would appreciate it if you kept your paranoia in check.” She put a hoof to her chest. “I didn’t do anything. If it failed, it did so entirely on Twilight’s merits.”  “Chrysalis couldn’t have done anything to the cure.” Twilight struggled to keep her voice even. “She provided the information, but she had nothing to do with the creation process itself.”  “Then perhaps it was you!” Luna’s wings spread wide as she twirled around to face Twilight. The resulting wind swirled around the room, leaving thick frost in its wake. “Perhaps she has simply wormed her way into your head, made you a puppet to further her schemes!” Several windows cracked beneath the onslaught of the sudden cold.  Twilight stepped back, her heartbeat hammering in her ears.  Doctor Heart stepped between the two princesses. “Luna, do you even hear what you’re saying? You know Twilight. You know she would do everything in her power to help Celestia.”  “Silence!” Luna reared back. The windows shattered, raining glass across the room. Icy winds invaded through the gaps, turning the bricks white. The lamps around the room shattered, but the moonlight intensified to counter it. “Ever since she first arrived here, all of you have taken her side again and again!” Luna’s eyes flickered back and forth wildly. “You are all nothing but Chrysalis’ puppets. I will not allow you to bring any more harm to my sister!” The dark corners of the room writhed. Clawed shadows slithered forward without anything to cast them. One of them grabbed at Chrysalis’ injured leg, but she pulled it free. “Luna, stop this!” Twilight shouted, trying her best to sound authoritative while she shivered in the grip of cold terror. She knew her words were useless now. After all, this wasn’t Luna. Not anymore.  The outside world vanished as shadows slithered in through the broken windows.  “Chrysalis! Doctor Heart!” Twilight barely recognized her own voice. “You two need to get out of here. Now.”  “But–” Doctor Heart began.  “Now!” Twilight’s voice shook the room.  Chrysalis was the first to move, bolting for the door faster than her broken leg should have been able to carry her. She hit the door shoulder-first. With a flash of green, she smashed through the doors open hard enough that it threatened to tear them off the walls. The doctor hesitated, but followed Chrysalis out. With the doors now open, soldiers gathered at the doorway. The consuming dark inched into the hallway, driving back the guards while swallowing any light that tried to impede it.  “Go! Get everypony to safety! Rally the guards and protect the town!” Twilight’s voice rang out from the darkness, spurring her soldiers to action. They scattered off to every end of the castle, shouting alarms as they ran, leaving Chrysalis standing alone at the bedroom doorway.  “What about you?” Chrysalis called back.  Twilight didn’t turn to look at her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of this.” Her words carried a confidence that her trembling form couldn’t match. Despite that, her stoic gaze held a sharp spark of resolve. For a brief moment, Chrysalis felt a sense of realization. This was a pony worthy of the title of princess.  The darkness swirled. Luna –or whatever it was that wore her form– stood in the center of the dark vortex. Wherever the mist passed, it left a trail of ice in its wake. If Chrysalis tried to focus on them, she could see hands and claws reaching out from the inky depths, grasping at whatever they could find.  “Yes! Run!” Though Luna’s lips moved to match the words, it wasn’t her voice. It wasn’t even a voice. Rather, it sounded like almost a dozen, a cacophonous legion all speaking in perfect unison. “But no matter where you go, Creature, you cannot escape the night!” It punctuated its threat with a cackling laugh. Twilight’s magic lit up like a beacon in the dark. “You’ll have to get past me, first.”  The beast let loose a shuddering, wheezing laugh as it turned to Twilight. “Of course.”  The dark mist around Twilight’ heels sprang to life. She kicked at the writhing mass of limbs that grasped at her, trying to launch herself into the air and out of their range. But as she tried, a dark cloud billowed past, its icy trail freezing her wings and sending her crashing back down. Whatever waited for her in the dark finally saw its opportunity, taking hold of her as tightly as it could and dragging her down into its depths.  Chrysalis grit her teeth, watching as Twilight struggled and screamed. The changeling’s body trembled. But it wasn’t fear that rushed through her veins.  “Get away from her,” Chrysalis roared. Her magic exploded outward, wrapping her body in green flames as she charged back through the doors. She whipped her head around, swinging her broken horn like a blade. One by one, she slashed at Twilight’s restraints. Each limb she cut felt lifeless to the ground before fading away in a puff of black mist. The ground quaked as Chrysalis' magic tore up through it, forming the broken stone into a barrier around her and Twilight.  Now freed, the princess took a second to catch her breath. “I thought I told you to run.”  Chrysalis tossed her a sideways glance. “And be stuck with Cadance?”  “You should have saved yourself when you had a chance!” The Luna-thing roared. Darkness seeped through the cracks in Chrysalis’ barricades before solidifying. One-by-one, they wrenched away the rocks, opening gaps for more of their spindly brethren to reach inside. “What is that thing?” Chrysalis asked, staring out at the monster standing outside their bunker. It no longer resembled Luna even remotely. Instead, it was reduced to a vaguely pony-shaped ink blotch. Where Luna’s eyes had been, two white gaps broke up the dark monotony.  “Still working on that part,” Twilight gasped. “Did Nightmare Moon ever do anything like this?”  Twilight shook her head. “No. This isn’t Nightmare Moon.”  “Right.” Chrysalis nodded. “My magic isn’t as strong as it used to be, but I’ll do what I can.” She poured her magic into her barricades, causing them to explode outward. Chunks of stone exploded outward like cannonfire, driving back the dark mists and even shredding through the beast itself. It’s liquid form pulled back together, none the worse for wear.  But the shadows didn’t retreat for long. Like crashing waves, they swept back inward. This time, Twilight summoned her magic, wrapping Chrysalis and herself in a pink bubble. The dark tide slammed again and again against her defenses. The shapes within them, once hands and claws, now blended into a sea of featureless limbs, mangled and dripping as they rained down on the magic shell with enough force to crack it. Even the smallest of these cracks allowed for the ink to slink in to grab at the ponies inside.  “We’re running out of time here, Twilight,” Chrysalis said. She used her glowing horn to slice at the tendrils, but no matter how quickly she cut, they reformed faster. “Now would be a great time for a plan.”  “Still working on it!” Twilight’s voice sounded strained. She had her teeth grit as she fought to keep her magic together. More of the darkness spilled in through their defenses, until Chrysalis could feel its cold touch against her chitin. They reached towards Twilight, cutting through fur and flesh with just a touch. Beads of blood dripped down her body, mixing with the puddles of mist around her ankles. It was obvious the alicorn was reaching her limits.  And Chrysalis wasn’t much better. Her vision blurred. Her magic flickered. She could feel the frost on her skin, even through her armor. “Twilight, we need to do something. Fast.” One of the tendrils coiled tight around her leg. In a moment of shock and sudden pain, her concentration broke. And with it, her magic failed. The creatures in the dark took advantage of the momentary distraction to tighten their grip.  They crawled over one another like snakes, constricting Chrysalis’ body piece-by-piece. And the more they took, the quicker they grew. Eventually, she felt the ground beneath her grow soft. Her hooves started to sink into the dark waves. “Twilight!” she cried. She didn’t try to hide her shaking voice. Beneath the waves, it felt so cold, so . . . numb. Twilight turned, her eyes widening as she watched Chrysalis sink into the floor. She reached out and grasped the changeling’s flailing hoof, but it was too late. The blackness piled on Chrysalis' body, overwhelming even Twilight’s strength. When that failed, the alicorn tried to cut the shadowy limbs away, but she couldn’t make a dent in the dense ivy that consumed Chrysalis.  “Twilight!” Chrysalis felt her breathing growing quicker. “Just hold on Chrysalis . . . I’ve got you,” Twilight cried.  “I’m sorry, Twilight. I really was looking forward to that new life.”  It was kind of funny, in a sad way. How long had she struggled against the ponies? How long had she struggled against their way of life, against their attempts at friendship, at a new life? It took until now, at the cusp of having that possibility pulled away from her for the final time, Chrysalis realized just how much she would have loved it. Calm. Peace. Maybe they would have been nice? But it was too late for that now. Fate had pulled her back down into the gutter. She was doomed. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.  Still, this realization didn’t fill her with spite the way it had so many times before.  And all of that had to do with her.  Twilight Sparkle. The one pony that seemed to actually understand her, that wanted to help her. The same one that, at the current moment, was fighting back some unknowable darkness in an attempt to save her. At least this time, as the end approached, she knew somepony cared about her.  In a moment of solemn realization, she smiled. Then, her hoof slipped from Twilight’s grasp as she was dragged down into the darkness. The last thing she saw was the alicorn’s magic failing. She could do nothing but watch Twilight struggle and listen to her scream as the dark overwhelmed her.  But this time, Chrysalis wouldn’t be charging in for the rescue.