Peace and Isolation

by McKnight93

Ch. 8.1 - Chaos Rising

The Hive of Queen Chrysalis
Day 14 of Equestria War

Queen Chrysalis brooded on her throne, pondering her future with the arrival of the star people and the war that followed. It had been several months since the fateful events of the Wedding, and her children were still licking their wounds following the return to the Badlands. Equestria hated her kind, she was kicked out of the Pact, and most importantly in her mind… Shining Armor had scorned her, leaving her for that skank Cadence.

What was she to do now? For all their talk of love and tolerance, the ponies were secretly a spiteful, xenophobic lot. If you betrayed their trust, heaven help you in ever getting it back. Her people were still getting the love they needed to live, but breeding with each other could only provide so much sustenance before it became watered down - changelings couldn't produce enough of the "magical" love to sustain themselves for long, and what little they could tasted like recycled feces. Perhaps she could send some spies into these "hoo-min" groups everypony's been talking about…

There was an explosion off in the distance, echoing around in the tunnels of the hive. The queen perked her head, trying to find the source. "What was that?" She wondered aloud. She got off the throne, just as a drone came into the grand hall.

"My queen!" He shouted, "My queen! Monsters have broken into the Hive! They're killing everyone, there's so much blood! Save us from-"

Another explosion happened at the doorway, blasting a bigger hole and sending the changeling flying and splattering into a wall. Out of the smoke came a trio of strangely armored hominids with strange looking guns, taking a formation around the breach. Chrysalis took a defensive stance, readying her magic for battle.

"My my," A voice sneered, "what a filthy little place you've got here, Bug Girl."

Out of the dust and smoke, a jet black alicorn strode confidently in. She wore armor more appropriate for an astartes than a pony, much of her body covered in spiky and cobalt-colored metal. Her wings had feathers as sharp as blades, and her ethereal mane and tail glittered with a thousand stars and galaxies and nebulas. Her eyes were slit like a lizard, and her toothy, fanged smile stirred a primal fear within the Queen.

"Luna?" Chrysalis gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

"You wish, slut." She fired a blast from her horn, sending the changeling crashing into a wall. Several Druchii peeled away from the observing group, desiring to exact their pleasures on the bug creatures rather than watch what would be an obvious smack down.

Chrysalis tried to stand up, but was stopped by the constricting rings she felt on her legs. With a flick of a foreleg, she was tossed to the other side of the room… and then back again… and then up to the ceiling. The daemon released her hold of the changeling, and she fell some distance before her wings kicked in, keeping her aloft.

She gathered up her power, firing a blast from her crooked horn at the invaders. The Nightmare promptly summoned a shield, and the blast ricocheted off in a random direction. In return, she fired a blast of infernal lightning at the queen, making a direct hit into her abdomen. Stunned, Chrysalis fell, slamming into the ground with a "THUD!"

Slowly, the daemon approached the changeling, as she gasped and squirmed for breath. Chrysalis was now being barraged by a cacophony of psychic screams of pain and fear. Through the hive mind, she could see her children become brutalized by the bastardly Dark Eldar. Some were pinned down and their virtue taken on the spot, while others were brutalized and tortured in manners unimaginable to her.

And for a select few, some of the Druchii had brought along disturbing looking brands - crafted into the shapes of different eight-pointed stars. Upon pressing the burning irons on their flanks, the changelings began to mutate, screaming in pain. Some turned blood red, and their chitin grew into long, serrated spikes. Some turned pink, certain "parts" growing or being added, their flesh turned raw and sensitive. Others turned green, the flesh rotting and melting off their bones, revealing growing pockets of pus and slime. And even more turned yellow, their mutations so random and sporadic that they no longer resembled changelings, but some blasphemous abominations from the depths of Tartarus.

Further out, Chrysalis sensed her children escaping, running into the hills and as far from these monsters as they could. She prayed for them - they may have seen everypony they knew die, but the future of her race depended on their survival.

Khazarni stood over the fallen, bloodied queen, mocking her. "Behold, 'fair queen'. Your empire has been broken, your people scattered, and I - Khazarni, Nightmare Moon, the Tyrant of all Dreams - stand ready for a killing blow. Tell me, where is your love now?"

Chrysalis, while frightened, remained defiant. "You may have beaten me, witch, but you won't be able to stop Shining Armor and Cadence, let alone-"

Nightmare Moon laughed derisively at the changeling. "My my, you must be as stupid as you are ugly, if you think they would help you. After you crashed their wedding, after they told you they wanted nothing to do with you, after you were banished from the Pact? No one trusts your people anymore because of your foolish crush."

Chrysalis tried to get back on her legs, her strength starting to return. "I know he still loves me. He said I was beautiful just the way I was!"

Nightmare threw the Changeling into a wall, ridiculing her defiance. "Then why did you turn into his fiancée?! If changelings are so sexy, why must they take the form of someone else? You insects are not but disgusting vermin, and you are their ruler as the Queen of Whores."

Chrysalis began to cry, but the daemon wouldn't stop. "You are a repulsive, blightful, pathetic little wench, whose lust is only matched by her grotesqueness and her retardation. I'm sure you would've made a wonderful Champion for Slaneesh... but alas, I already have one. Fret not though, my little worm, for I shall have use of you."

Khazarni planted a gloved hoof firmly on her neck, and floated out a piece of what could only be described as filth from a pocket in her armor. "You desire love for power, but no mortal can tolerate your presence, your treachery or your life. But there is one god who would love you in spite of your diseased-looking appearance. He would fill you with the lives of millions of organisms, and endure eons eternal. He would take away your Succubi nature, and teach you to feed on a much more common, much more potent emotion... Despair."

She pressed down harder, making her victim gasp for air. "You will say his name, wretch. If you desire life, you will pledge yourself to him. Give him your soul."

Chrysalis remained quiet, unwilling to bow to her demands.
"Say it."
She shook her head, still resisting.
"Say it!" The changeling shook her head harder. Nightmare Moon, getting fed up with her resistance, pulled out her cursed blade, and hovered it next to the vermin's throat.
"Say it, or I will end you and your pathetic race!"
Her will finally gave out, and the former queen screamed, "Nurgle, save me!"

Nightmare Moon shoved the filth into Chrysalis' mouth, and the changeling quickly began mutating. Her shiny, chitin-like fur turned dull and discolored. Ooze and puss began leaking out of every orifice and cut on her body, and her flesh became covered in cysts and tumors. And finally, her green eyes turned as black as scabs, and her tongue extended out as a long, salivating tentacle.

Khazarni proudly declared, "Behold, my subjects! Here lies the newest Plague Champion - Kazamon, Lady of the Flies!" She laughed triumphantly over the fallen queen, as the Dark Eldar watched the Chosen of Nurgle mutated into her new form.

Did they consider this madness? Were they having second thoughts of serving a monster, working for their old enemy? Perhaps. But they said nothing. Not during the corruption of the changelings too dumb, slow or loyal to leave. Not when they smashed eggs and stomped pupae, erecting signs and monuments to the gods they despised. Not when they marched out of the hive and into the desert, searching for stragglers. Not a word.
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The Crystal Empire
Same Day

The Crystal Empire used to be the heart of Equestria. Back in the early days of the Empire, the Crystal Monarch was considered the noblest and most powerful of leaders, and all tribes and nations idolized the city as the "city on the hill". Some even say its where the Royal Sisters were born, though they've kept mum about it for many millennia.

But that was before the dark times. Before Sombra came to power.

He became enraptured in the dark arts, reading cursed books and scrolls written before the Princesses and their sacred protector, tainting his mind with promises of daemons under his control, and all-powerful gods blessing his armies in battle. He swore allegiance to the dark gods, and for almost a year the North belonged to Sombra's chaos.

That is, until the alicorns and their Divine Boy-Toy got involved.

After Sombra had opened a ritual portal to the warp - in the hopes of gaining enough power to turn Equestria into his personal domain - the duo fought him in pitched battle. The dark unicorn, a sorcerer, not a fighter, promptly got his ass kicked, and had his body turned into an immaterial cloud of smoke. But not before he could banish the Crystal Empire for a thousand years in the warp… and allow one daemon to enter this world, which was the icing on the cake of payback.

And now here he was, the city back in Equestria, his power was coming back, the time had come to finally bring hatred and darkness back to this picture-perfect cesspool. There was only one problem: someone had beaten him to the punch. In the time of his absence, not only had the Pact become a powerhouse, but the alicorns had brought all manner of off-worlders to the planet, and they in turn brought their enemies to play their little wars on his turf.

But not anymore. Today, he was going to show these children why no one, pony, man or otherwise, intruded into the business of Sombra, Sorcerer of Tzeentch.

The ghostly warlock was heading for his old Ritual Dwelling when he felt himself pass through a patch of strange energy. This was confirmed when he slammed into an invisible wall within the patch. He cursed, realizing he had fallen into a ritual circle, and was trapped inside.

"Who dares entrap a Servant of Tzeentch?" He challenged. "Show yourselves, mortals!"

All around him, keeping at least twenty feet away from him, a dozen bipedal figures emerged from the blinding snow. They wore cloaks covered in the markings of Tzeentch, and spoke in tongues not meant for mortal mouths. They shivered in the cold, pathetic mortals interloping in his game, as if they were worthy of the Changer of Ways' attention.

King Sombra stood in the center of the circle, positively livid. "How dare you plot against the master of this realm!" He roared. "Do you know who I am, you dull creatures? I am Sombra, Master and Commander of the North! I, who held my own against the Alicorns! I, who bent the Wendigoes to my will! I, who fought the hordes of Hive Metamorphosis, and gave the Crystal Empire its title! I, who created Ni-"

"I wouldn't be too vocal about that last bit, 'O mighty king'." A robed figure stepped forward, removing the face of a griffon that covered her head. There stood Khazukull, her eyes as big and white as Madness Itself, a leery grin stretching literally ear to ear. She warned cheerfully, "Khazarni doesn't take kindly to schmucks trying to upstage her."

Sombra turned his attention to the stranger before him. The fell creature had made herself a coat of many people - griffons, minotaurs, Orks, ponies, even a Dark Eldar patch. Quite a design, all things said and done. "And who, pray tell, are you, monster?" He asked.

Khazukull giggled, proudly displaying her pointy and serrated teeth. "I am your new boss, Sorcerer." She explained. "The name's Khazukull, but my victims know me as 'Pinkamina', or 'Oh-my-god-please-don't-kill-me-AAAAGGGHHH!' The Ruinous Powers are gonna throw a little party here, and you're one of the guests of honor."

Sombra raised an eyebrow, then smiled. He condensed his form into what used to be his normal body, his blackened coat and reddened horn standing against the blinding white around him. "I always knew that Tzeentch would recognize my genius, and make me his Chosen. Truly there is no better schemer than I on this planet. Now, in order to beat the Prin-"

Khazukull snickered, and interrupted him quickly. "Sorry, Sombrero, but we already have a Tzeentchite Chosen. The daemon you 'created' oh so long ago is the brains of this outfit. And before you ask, we also already have a Champion for Nurgle and Slaneesh. The last one is me, by the way."

The Dark King's eyes went wide, and he backed away from her to the farthest edge of the circle. "No, no no no! I have served My Lord above and beyond any mere sorcerer of their galaxy. I corrupted a goddess and threw a nation into the warp! My mind and my magic are the greatest weapons against the false gods! I cannot acquiesce your request! I can't be a Khornate, I'm better than that!"

The daemon walked through the force field like it wasn't there, and Sombra felt himself get pinned to the snow with her otherworldly powers. "Nonsense!" She chirped, licking her lips vivaciously. "Your gods need you for that fourth spot, and by golly you're gonna FILL IT!"

Khazukull drew a knife hiding in her coat, and brought it to her hoof. "Don't worry, though, you weren't gonna be known for your brains, anyway. I saw how things went down without our intervention, and I gotta say, not that impressive. Buncha roaring, a crystal fetish, a 'scary door' and a shit-ton of stairs, and everypony will think you're the worst villain evers! You mind won't be remembered, but your rage, that sure as sugar will."

She dragged the knife down her foreleg, cutting deep into her flesh, making her squee in delight. Blood poured from the wound, slathering Sombra's face and mouth in red. The blood then promptly caught fire, burning his face. "RAAAAAAARRRRGH!" He screamed in pain.

The daemon cheered the process on. "That's the way, Somby! Know how no one took you for the threat that you are! Remember how your former master, the Changer of Ways, tossed you - his most valued subject - aside like a broken condom! Feel the hate well inside you for all those who wronged you on your quest for power… and let that anger become your strength!"

Sombra began transforming back into his ethereal form, but not in the same way. As he became smoke, the smoke burned, reverting itself into a pillar of fire, expanding outward until it blocked out the sky within the circle. Two red horns grew from the top of his face, and his face became black and charred. His teeth became elongated into massive saber-like fangs, the green of his eyes turned black, and the smoke that escaped the sides became weeping, burning tears of blood.

The Dark King raised his head to the heavens, and roared, "WAAAAARRRRGGHHAAA! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"

Khazukull proudly held her knife in the air, and declared, "That's the spirit! All hail Khazkhali, the Fire of War! All shall face him and BURN! All shall fear the Chosen of Chaos, and despair unto their DEATH!" She cackled with mad glee as the pillar of fire flew about, roaring its infernal fury to all that could hear. The cultists went to their knees, singing praises to the new Khornate...
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Meanwhile, far off in Canterlot, as three Princesses and an Emperor discussed the battles ahead, two psychic tremors could be felt, reverberating throughout the natural fields of the planet. Even with the gestalt field of the WAAAGH!, the sheer spikes of chaos energy was ever so slightly intermixing with the harmonic energy of the planet - generating magical storms, the positive and negative fields manifesting in Everfree-esque events, as the natural law of Equestria was turning on its head.

Adam lifted his hand up, curling it into a fist, testing his dexterity. Approving, he opened his mouth, and for the first time in thousands of years, he spoke aloud.

"Its Time."