I was floating in an inky darkness. It reminded me a lot of when the Text had spoken to me, but I could tell it was different somehow. It had a sort of unreal quality to it, like a dream. Before me, visible clearly despite the lack of any discernable light source, was another me. He looked at me with coldly appraising eyes, and an amused grin that somehow felt dangerous. It took me a moment to recognize him. My avatar. Istaran.
"Tag out," he said, holding up an arm to me.
I hesitated. I knew him well. I had dreamed him up. He was me, but not me. He had quite a few quirks and flaws that I lacked. Not the least of which was an explicit desire to be known as a villain. But he also had the confidence I lacked. Fearlessness. And when it suited him, ruthlessness. I was worried about what he might do, but honestly I was tired of being a punching bag.
I grasped his hand in mine, and the dream ended.
He awoke, but didn't stir. Eyes closed, he listened as his spiders began to spread out into the area around him. The changeling was talking into some kind of crystal. He was smart enough, at least, to keep facing towards his prisoner. He had hog-tied his prisoner quite securely, but it wasn't anything a few spiders couldn't fix.
"This one's different then the heartless drones we fought. I think it must be one of their Queens. It seemed pretty defenseless, but that is probably because I caught it off guard," the drone explained to the crystal.
Istaran didn't take kindly to being referred to as defenseless. But he managed to bide his time. He would dispel that myth momentarily. Key segments of the ropes that bound him had been replaced by spiders, waiting to disconnect from one another on command and leave the rope in shreds. Others had reproduced quietly under the ground, and now snaked up around the changeling's feet, forming manacles around his legs just loose enough to avoid setting off his sense of touch.
Suddenly, Istaran was climbing to his feet, rushing the changeling. Spiders reinforced his left arm, adding mass to an adrenaline fueled punch to the gut that knocked the changeling over, while others rapidly constructed a long, sharp dagger in his right hand. The manacles tightened around the creature's rear legs, while more spiders burst from the ground to secure his forehooves where they landed. A fist-sized spider picked up the crystal and brought it closer. From this angle, Istaran could see the face of a rather alarmed, undisguised changeling on the other end. It looked.. different. Feminine? Queen.
With the dagger pressed to the drone's throat, Istaran turned to the crystal. "This drone is lost to you. If you give it to me, I will consider it due compensation and consider allying with you against the other human. At the very least you won't have gained my enmity. Otherwise.. I will leave this place, and the drone will not. And the only thing protecting you from me will be whatever degree of inconvenience it is to me to pursue you. Do you understand?"
She took a moment to consider the turn of events and her options. "Very well. He is yours." The drone flinched a bit at her words, then looked up at Istaran with a bit of confusion. He could feel.. something from the human. It was like love but different. Colder. After a moment he recognized it for what it was. It was the love a dragon has for his hoard. Fiercely protective, but not exactly born of kindness. Though the amount of trust he felt was surely unearned.
"Shall we arrange to discuss terms of alliance then?" the queen continued.
"Tomorrow." Istaran said dismissively. "Now, how do I turn this off?" he asked the drone.
Once the call was ended, Istaran sat back a bit, still straddling the defeated changeling. He looked down on him and grinned. "Now, it's time to make you mine," he said.
"If you must, but please at least let me be a female for that." He said before a wave of green light replaced his features with more feminine ones. "You can still use the tailhole if you insist."
Istaran blinked. "No! Nothing like that! Here.. " he nicked his thumb with the tip of his dagger, drawing a small drop of blood. "Lick it," he said, offering the wounded digit.
The changeling hesitated before giving it a lick, confusion etched on his face. "That's.. it?"
Istaran nodded. "There is a second part to the ritual, after you next awaken. But for now, we should resume our journey. You have slowed me down enough as it is." With that he climbed to his feet and started walking down the road again. The spiders binding the changeling melted away, following in the form of a barely visible ripple on the surface of the ground. Staggering to his feet the changeling began to follow.
"I am Istaran. The weak one is Daniel.. you'll know who I mean soon enough. What is your name, changeling?"
"We don't really have names, outside of our disguises. This form is called Wind Chaser," she said, still bearing the form of a pegasus mare.
"Very well, Wind Chaser it is. Now tell me, Chaser. What do you know of the humans your people have been fighting?"
The humans Wind Chaser described were, to put it simply, unreal. The were completely identical, at least within a handful of distinct types. The most common type, by far, carried weapons I recognized as some form of automatic assault rifle, but their danger was.. different. Apparently being shot by one caused no clear, physical injury, only a mounting sense of dread. But after being hit a few times, a changeling or pony would simply drop dead, suddenly sporting a smattering of lethal wounds. The 'human drones' themselves followed a similar pattern when attacked: no blow could cripple them, phase them, or even knock them back, but enough damage could cause them to suddenly drop dead in a pile of blood before fading from existence.
Honestly, they sounded like video game characters. No. Characters was too strong a word. They sounded like video game mooks.
The changelings, being the intelligence loving sorts they were, had even had time to observe their behavior outside of combat. Mostly they just stood around, often in squads, repeating the same handful of precisely identical gestures at intervals. They also would say one of a small handful of phrases in their own language immediately before changing their course of action, such as beginning to walk toward a new destination.
Interestingly, they mostly ignored any changeling disguised as one of them, no matter how differently they behaved from the other drones. On rare occasions, one would speak one of those telltale phrases and then start attacking the infiltrator, but that was only a minor hazard of the job. The real threat was the dogs. Wind Chaser shuddered in terror even trying to describe them. They somehow could pick out a changeling from a great distance, and would immediately run to attack them. Unlike the guns, a single touch of the paw from a dog was instant death! There had been very few dogs in the human forces originally, but as contact with the changelings had continued the dogs had become an ever-present threat. Dogs that detected spies and killed them in one hit.. that sounded familiar as well.
Wind Chaser got around to starting to describe her more personal experiences with the 'human drones', starting into a story about the drone she referred to as her 'brother', when Istaran abruptly tagged back out, and Wind Chaser suddenly stopped talking. I had continued walking, with no obvious change in my physical demeanor, but somehow she could just tell something had changed.
"Daniel?" she asked.
"Yeah," I replied. "How could you tell."
"Your.. love? That feels too strong a word. It feels kinder, gentler.. less like a dragon. I'm surprised there's any there at all though. I'm guessing you are the one I beat up?"
I hung my head for a moment in shame at the memory. "Don't get the wrong idea. It's not like.. <Stockholm Syndrome> or anything." I realized as I said it I had no idea how to translate that to Equestrian. "But regardless of how we met, you are one of my only companions in this world right now, and I am not so eager to give up on you. You've had miles to prove yourself unworthy of my trust, and only a short while longer before you can't."
"That's.. pretty ominous. Wait, what's going on. Is this about that ritual thing? What exactly does scary-you have in mind?"
I started looking for a suitable place to rest. I saw a lone apple tree a fair bit off the road in the distance, and started tacking toward it. "You are going to develop a fever soon, if it hasn't started already. It will grow intense enough that you will pass out from it. When you awaken, there will be an unfamiliar voice in your head. That is <Deus Machina>, or a fragment of him. <Deus> will bind you to me, and.. " I cringed a bit for going down this route, "copy your memories to me. Everything, from what it's like growing up in a hive, to what it feels like to change your shape. You were given to me, and I will have all you have to offer."
She nuzzled my hand, calming me down a bit. Of course, she could sense the clash of emotions within me, and I think it made her feel a little better knowing I cared enough to be bothered by what I had planned for her. "You are my new Queen. Anything I can do to help you survive and thrive, I will gladly do." I stroked her mane gently, nodding, wondering if her show of loyalty was just an act. It didn't matter. Deus would make her genuinely loyal soon enough. Istaran had seen to that. And Deus ranked his orders above my own.
"The word is 'King'" I corrected.