R'Stame was dying.
The fools had tried to take his diamond, the diamond that he found near that crack in the Hive's wall. They couldn't have it. It was his. It spoke to him. It told him of all the wonderful things he would accomplish.
And the drums. It gave him the drums.
He soon found himself falling into blackness.
He found himself alone in a void. Blackness on every side. He also expected silence but there was none.
Just the drums. Louder than ever before.
"Weak fool," hissed a weak voice. "Pathetic failure. I am ashamed to call you my counter part...."
"Who goes there?" R'Stame hissed back. "Who are you?"
"You have no idea the pain it brings me to say that we are you," another, much clearer voice rang out.
"Show yourselves!" R'Stame hissed.
Over thirty figures stepped out of the shadows. Only five caught R'Stame's eye.
There were two that were very similar. Two tall bipedal creatures wearing black suits and sporting beards. One looked slightly younger than the other.
Another had slicked back gray hair and wore a leather jacket.
Another was shorter than the rest, clean cut, and skinny.
But the fifth...
The fifth was the one who had spoken first. He looked like something out of a horror story. He seemed to be just bone shrouded in a black robe. Moss seemed to be growing on him. He stared at R'Stame with cold dead eyes.
All of these things here were the same creature. The one in the middle was this creatures true essence.
"You know our name," hissed the essence. "Don't you Changeling?"
A word appeared in R'Stame's mind. This... thing's name.
"I'll see myself dead before I call you-"
"What you call yourself fool," the creature hissed. "You are us. You always have been. It took a nudge to get you here but the drums have called you to us. Choose. There are over thirty of us here, and we all await your choices. You know what we are. You know why we are here. You have no other choice.
"Change yourself, Changeling."
R'Stame thought for a moment, not very long. He realized that it was either this, or oblivion.
He made his choices, and woke up.
The three Changeling muggers looked on in awe as there victim took on an intense orange glow. He cried out. His voice deepening in the middle of his scream.
After that, there was a moment of silence, finally broken by a cold cruel laugh.
"Oh," R'Stame said. "Oh that is splendid. I haven't seen a mirror yet though, I'm not sure what I look like. Though that's the advantage of this body isn't it? I can have-"
He shapeshifted. "Any face I want." He did it again to a new form. "Any time I want." Once again. "Regeneration on command." One more time. "No fuss, no muss."
He went back to his normal Changeling form. "Though I like this face better, I think. It... suits me."
"What in Tartarus is wrong with you R'Stame?" the gang leader asked.
"That is not my name," their former victim hissed fiercely. "Not anymore."
"Then what is?" the mugger asked again.
"I am generally referred to as the Master," he said cooly.
The mugger let out a sharp laugh. "Is that so?"
The being who called himself 'Master' whipped around to reveal that his once lime green eyes had turned burning red. "Universally."
With that, a red magical aura wrapped around the leaders neck. The energy lifted him up into the air, all the while he was struggling and gasping for breath.
With a sickening snap it was all over.
The Master stared into the souls of his other two attackers, who immediately fell under his trance. "You two are coming with me," he said firmly. "I want to speak to our lovely Queen."
"Yes Master," the muggers said sleepily.