Twilight’s and Chrysalis’ doors had led to a meadow and a cave, respectively. Yet, as she moved deeper past Luna’s door, Chrysalis couldn’t help but feel she had been lied to. Those sounded far too mundane for what she saw now. She recognized the features of the room where all this started: Celestia’s bedroom.
But it was wrong.
Even centuries of life experience left Chrysalis with no other way to describe the warped room. What had once been an admittedly large circular room, now appeared as a seemingly endless hallway devoid of furniture. As she and Twilight walked onward, they left the door far behind them. Yet, their goal never seemed any closer.
“You’re quite brave, Twilight.”
“Huh? What did you say? I’m sorry. I was lost in thought for a second.”
Chrysalis groaned. “I said you were quite brave back there. Sending your friends home.”
Twilight shook her head. “I didn’t exactly have much of a choice. We don’t have a lot of time to sit and find a solution to a magical barrier. Especially one where I’m not sure the fundamental laws of magic even apply.”
“Fine.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “I'll take it back then.”
“I mean, I’ll take the compliment.” With a frown, Twilight shrugged. “But I don’t really understand what was so brave about it?”
Chrysalis clicked her tongue. “Perhaps bravery isn’t the right word. Stoicism, maybe?”
“I still don’t—”
“I’m impressed by your ability to lie with a straight face. I thought you ponies might actually be incapable of lying. But it seems at the very least, you can.”
The second echoing set of steps fell quiet as Twilight stopped. “Excuse me?”
Chrysalis didn’t stop. “When you sent your friends away, you sounded so confident that we could handle this. A lie, right? Or do you really think we can handle this with just the two of us?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I mean . . .” Twilight stammered.
“You can be a liar or an idiot, Twilight. Those are your only two options.”
With an annoyed huff, Twilight flew back to Chrysalis’ side. “I wasn’t . . . lying.”
“Then you’re stupid,” Chrysalis said, matter-of-factly.
“I know we might lose. But I can’t think like that. We have to win. Or Equestria is in serious trouble. And I won’t let that happen.”
Chrysalis stopped this time. She turned to Twilight, her eyes narrowed. “Yes. Because the fates decree that you must win, don’t they? And what happens when the Nightmare leaves you bleeding and broken on the floor. What’s the plan then? Go ahead and fill me in. I’m listening.”
“I won’t stop fighting. Not until--”
“Until you die?” Chrysalis suggested. “I don’t know if you realize this, Princess, but you are, in fact, mortal. Ageless perhaps, but mortal nonetheless.”
“I--”
“But more importantly.” Chrysalis stepped closer. “I walked into this suicide mission thinking you had a plan. If that’s the best you’ve got, then I might as well turn around and leave.”
The duo fell silent for some time.
“Are you finished?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re on thin ice, Twilight,” Chrysalis said. Regardless, she let Twilight talk.
“The Nightmare is strong. But we can be stronger. If we fight side-by-side, then even if we can’t overpower it, we can outmaneuver it.”
Chrysalis puffed air through her nose in a quiet laugh. “Look at that. It seems you’re not so stupid after all. But there are still a few holes in your strategy.”
Rather than ask, Twilight raised an eyebrow.
“Queens above, I hate having to admit this, but I’m a little lacking in the power department at the moment.”
“You . . . “ Twilight blinked. “What?”
“My magic is weak.” Chrysalis inspected her hoof, searching for an unseen injury. “I haven’t had a decent meal in some time now. I’m not nearly as strong as when I battled Celestia.”
Twilight tilted her head.
“Didn’t you just feed? Off Thorax? I thought that’s what that whole exchange at the door was about.” Twilight pointed back in the direction they came from. Chrysalis couldn’t see the door anymore, but she understood the gesture. “He was giving you his power.”
“He did.” The changeling rustled her mane. “Despite his title, Thorax is still little more than a drone. Even at full strength, he would offer me little in the way of power. And he was not at full power.”
“Okay.” Twilight closed her eyes. Her head bounced back and forth, her cheeks taking on the barest hint of pink. “What if I gave you my love?”
Chrysalis stepped back. She could feel the love radiating off Twilight. As it had been since they met back up in her nightmare, she realized. The offer intrigued her, setting the wheels of her mind in motion. She licked her lips, but pushed the brewing plan to the back of her mind with a shake of her head.
“That’s a bad idea. It would leave you weakened. You saw what I did to Shining at our wedding. Even if I hold back, it would still drain your power. So, we still run into the same issue.”
“What about that power you used back in your nightmare? Can you still use that?”
Shrill laughter rippled from the deepest pits of Chrysalis’ throat. “No.”
“Why not?”
How could Chrysalis explain what laid dormant in her blood? Iris’ one and only gift to her. Even if she could draw it out again, she wouldn’t. Not again. She’d rather die first. Instead, she settled for a lie. “That was just a part of the dream. I lost that power when I woke up.”
Twilight chewed her lip. “That does put us in a tight spot, then. Can you use any magic?”
“I’ve got a bit left. But once it’s gone, I’m going to be useless in a fight.”
“Alright.” With her lower lip still pressed against her teeth, Twilight stared off into the distance.
“Well, then I’m going to have to modify the plan. How about this? I’ll take the offensive against the Nightmare. Meanwhile, you sneak around the edges of the fight. See if you can find some sort of weakness we can exploit. Plus, it keeps you from having to burn through the rest of your magic too quickly.”
“Are you sure you can handle it?” Chrysalis asked. “The creatures he sent after me in my nightmare were incredibly powerful. If the Nightmare can create and command them, he must be, too.”
Twilight shrugged. “I’ve dealt with worse. That begs the question though: Can I trust you, Chrysalis?”
“I think we’re far beyond the appropriate time for you to ask me that question.”
“I know, but I need to know you’re not going to just run out on me at the first sign of danger. We need to work together to get through this.”
Chrysalis scoffed. “I may be lacking in strength at the moment, but I am no coward. I won’t run.”
“Then I’m going to take that as a yes. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s our only way home.” Nodding resolutely, Twilight walked on down the endless tunnel.
Chrysalis watched her walk for a bit before following. As they walked, she kept a close eye on the pony. She had to admit a begrudging respect for the Princess. Not many ponies would have either the courage or the power to charge into a situation like this. Twilight had both, in spades.
But so had he. And in the end, all that amounted to was false bravado.
“Even after all this time, you’re still thinking about me, huh?”
Chrysalis knew his voice was bait. It was the most obvious trap she had ever blundered into. Only after she turned, it dawned on her how bad an idea that was.
Nothing was behind her. Not even a dream.
Chrysalis whipped her head back around towards Twilight, only to realize she was now standing alone. The brick walls tore away. The tiled floor fell into the void. And with them, Chrysalis fell into the dark.
She tumbled through the air, unsure which way was up. Or even if there was an ‘up’ in a place like this. Her wings fluttered, but that didn’t stop the feeling of freefall. There was nothing above her. Nor was there anything below.
Then she hit the floor.
It didn’t hurt. In fact, it seemed less like she was moving, and more like the floor rose to meet her. Grumbling, she rose to her feet. She stood on a silver circular platform. At the edges, the darkness writhed, but never moved toward her.
“Queen Chrysalis.”
She turned to see the Nightmare walking toward her, striding atop the dark sea. Her muscles tensed, reflexes tightened, waiting for it to make the first move. But the beast didn’t attack. Instead, it stepped casually onto the platform. Despite the ethereal appearance, its hooves produced a hollow ring with each step.
“I was wondering when you would show your face,” Chrysalis spat.
“Apologies. Luna has been difficult to deal with. But now that she has become quiet, we can finally speak.” It started to circle around her. She didn’t dare turn her back to him.
“What could we possibly have to discuss? Unless you mean you’re here to gloat. In which case, I think I’d prefer to just skip to the end where you kill me. It would save us both the trouble.” Chrysalis ran her tongue over her fangs, watching. “You can even tell your friends whatever story you want about how I begged for my life. Won’t really matter to me.”
“I have no intention of killing you,” the Nightmare said, amused.
Its form shifted constantly, like trying to stare at an optical illusion or an ink blot that never fully dried. With each word, voices rang out from every direction. It sounded like a legion all whispering at once. Some were male, some female, and some were something else entirely.
“You expect me to believe that? After everything you put me through?”
“Truly, I must apologize for holding you here. As I said, Luna did not make the transition easy. I only meant to take the ponies. But it seems you were caught in the web as well.” It stopped circling, instead turning to face Chrysalis directly.
“Your apology is neither appreciated, nor accepted,” Chrysalis growled.
“Of course. I did not expect it would be. But that does not change why I have brought you here.” Its horn flared with ebony flames. A portal opened at the edge of the platform. Chrysalis waited for the Nightmare to turn before looking for herself. Though blurry, she could see a line of armored ponies standing in the Canterlot Castle hallway.
“What is this?” Chrysalis asked.
“A portal home,” the Nightmare said. It motioned to the exit with a hoof.
Chrysalis narrowed her gaze. “I see that. Why?”
“For you to go home, of course.”
“That’s . . .” Chrysalis could taste the venom bubbling in her tone. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? This is obviously some sort of trap.”
The Nightmare laughed. Each echo chilled the air a little more. The shadows at the edges of the arena danced, as though excited by the terrifying sound. “Luna was right. You are untrusting.”
“Forgive me,” Chrysalis scoffed. “I tend not to have much faith in those that get their kicks by torturing me.”
That seemed to wipe the smile off the beast’s face. “Torture you? Surely your stay here could not be that unpleasant. Did you not wish to see your hive again?”
“My hive? My destroyed hive?” Chrysalis couldn’t stop herself. She marched forward toward the Nightmare. To her amazement, the beast seemed to recoil from her. “Where I fought for my life against those monsters you sent my way? Do you understand what would have happened if Twilight and Thorax hadn’t knocked some sense into me?”
Though the beast had no facial features, it mimicked the raising of an eyebrow. The hundreds of voices that formed its own fell out of sync.
“Tortured?”
“Destroyed?”
“Monsters?”
The cacophony died down as the Nightmare snapped back into the moment. “I sent no beasts to fight you, Chrysalis. Your dreams are unknown to me.”
“Do you know what Iris did to me?” Chrysalis demanded. Against her better judgment, she took a swing at the creature. Her hoof passed through, like trying to punch a cloud. An extremely cold cloud, at that. The lack of contact threw her off balance, sending her stumbling to the ground.
“I do not even know who Iris is,” The Nightmare admitted. “I cannot see into your mind, into your dreams like I can with the others. I have little experience with your kind as a result.”
Chrysalis shook the dust from her chitin as she rose.
“You’re telling me you had nothing to do with all of that? I don’t believe you.” The Nightmare didn’t hear her. It seemed lost in thought again. “Hey, are you listening? If you didn’t send them, then who—”
“Apologies, but I am afraid I have no more time left to waste here. The portal will remain open for you. You have my blessing to leave. My creatures will not harm you, should you refrain from harming them.” With that, it turned to leave.
“Why send me back?” Chrysalis called after it.
“You were never part of my plan, Queen Chrysalis,” it said over its shoulder. “I have no reason to harm you. And I fear doing so would only create more problems for me in the future. So, I decided to offer you this choice instead.”
“And what happens when Canterlot falls? Will you come for me next?”
“No. I seek only my queen. Once she is mine and mind alone, my work will be complete.”
Chrysalis cast her gaze downward. “Are you going to kill Twilight?”
“If she forces me to.”
Chrysalis flinched. “She will.”
Their conversation faded into the nothingness around them. Without another word, the Nightmare continued toward the platform edge. Another portal opened, although this one showed no scene on the other side. It stepped inside and vanished. But the passage did not close behind it.
Chrysalis stood in place far longer than she wished to admit. Her eyes flicked between the two paths before her. With a resolute sigh, she approached the first portal. Through it, she could see the ponies battling desperately against the nightmares. Most of them were bloodied and panting. She spied a few changelings in their ranks.
She tried to lift her hoof, to reach out and take the offered freedom. But her body refused to take that final step.
“What is the matter with you?” Iris asked. Chrysalis didn’t bother looking for her. She knew it wasn’t actually her voice.
“I can’t.”
“It’s quite simple. Just one more step.”
“And leave Twilight here to die?”
“Obviously. What does it matter to you?”
“It doesn’t,” Chrysalis snapped. “She doesn’t matter. None of it matters.”
“Then why are you still here? One step, and you’ll have the new life you’ve been dreaming of. A life away from those pathetic ponies. A life away from those traitorous grubs. You can start anew. A fresh hive. An army to rule over. Can’t you imagine it?”
Chrysalis didn’t have to imagine it. She’d lived it all before. That old thrill blossomed in her chest as she thought of standing at the head of a brand new army. A brand new life. She could practically feel the sunshine on her face as she stood atop her mountainous hive.
Then it started to rain. A single drop at first. Then a second.
Through it all, Chrysalis’ hooves remained fastened to the metal floor.
“So why can’t I do it?” Chrysalis asked. No answer came to her. She stood alone in the silence of the abyss. The image before her grew more obscured still as she felt the tears run down her cheeks.
“You know why.”
His voice.
She looked for him in the one place she knew he would be: Her memories. His soft fur against her shell. That cocky half-smile.
“I-I don’t know what to do . . . It’s . . . everything’s going wrong.”
“You said it yourself, Chryssy. You’re a creature of instinct. So why are you trying so hard to fight them? You know what you have to do.”
Chrysalis squeezed her eyes shut. “I-I know . . . Queens above, I know.”
In the darkness, she felt a hoof caress her cheek. She squeezed her eyes tighter still, afraid that if she opened them, he would vanish. The soft hoof wiped the tears from her face.
“I know you’ll do the right thing, Chryssy. You always did.”
She could hear the smile in his words. It only served to hasten her tears.
“I miss you, Blue.”
She didn’t wait for a response. After all, he was right and she knew what she had to do.