Thrashing about, Metamorphosis tried to break free of the stallion’s grip, but he didn’t have the strength to do so. When they merged with the downpour from high above their speed increased, the first of many jagged rocks slicing into Meta’s back.
Eventually they both landed, each grunting in pain as their bodies slammed into the hard stone. Meta took the brunt of the impact, but it was only minor discomfort due to his body slowly healing itself thanks to the love magic he’d managed to harvest in the short few hours from the very stallion who rolled off of him with a groan.
Meta took the chance to put some distance between them, using his arms to drag himself over to the cliff face and sat up, appraising his situation. With the thunderous downpour coming from above they were safe from anypony who might follow, and well below the city’s lowest level.
A quiet chuckle caught his attention, causing him to look towards the edge of the outcropping he was on, where Deadeye was crouched down, smirking at the changeling.
“Well, here we are. You and me. Been waiting for this a long time.” Deadeye stood and slowly walked forward, reaching into the small part of his armour that had stayed on during their descent. From it he pulled a old looking knife, too blunt to have been issued by the guard. “Recognise this? I’ve kept it on me since that day...”
Metamorphosis tried to crawl away, but Deadeye grabbed his ankle and dragged him back, away from the wall and rolled him onto his front. “Let’s see if I remember... I was where you are now, and you were in front of me.” Meta felt a hand on the back of his left knee, followed by a sharp point starting to dig into his thigh. “I watched... as your cohort pushed a spear into Sonata’s leg...” The changeling king hissed in pain as the blade sliced in, betraying its supposed uselessness. “And when I tried to reach for her...” The knife was pulled out and rammed deep into the other leg. “...you just kept going!”
“We both know what happened then... but that wasn’t the end of it.” Deadeye knelt down, grinding his knee into Metamorphosis’ back, then grabbed his horn and titled his head back, the knife being placed across his throat. “I was forced... to watch as you cut my filly’s throat like opening a sack of grains!”
“Do it!” Metamorphosis hissed, squirming under the stallion. With his horn being gripped, he couldn’t use his magic to break free, and he just didn’t have the strength to do it physically. “Take your revenge, but know this will not end anything!” His one eye went wide as the knife clattered to the stone, and the stallion stood from his back.
“You’re wrong... I just finished it,” Deadeye said as he walked towards the edge of the outcropping, looking up towards the castle. “Your last allies will have seen the folly of your plans, and the diamond dogs... well, if they’re aren’t all dead will have retreated.”
Feeling his magical reserves beginning to deplete rapidly, Meta knew he’d only survive if a changeling loyal to him found him before anything else did, and he couldn’t resist getting one last little snide remark in. “Weak, that’s what you are! A strong pony would have taken my life for the hurt I caused you! And why look up? After what you did to help me, they’ll never accept you back into their fold!”
“Weak? Sometimes,” Deadeye said as he turned around, a hand placed over his chest, a strangely serene smile on his face. “But I have friends... family, who helped me be strong. The only reason I didn’t kill you for what you did... is she wouldn’t want me to.” Turning away, Deadeye took a step forward, but fell to his knee as he began coughing, a splatter of red spraying from his mouth to the rocks. “And I’m not going back... I’m going somewhere else.”
From his position, Meta watched as the stallion moved his hand, showing blood flowing once more from the wounds Luna had inflicted using the human’s weapon. He allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction, knowing that one of his enemies would be dead soon.
“Hey, bug,” Deadeye turned to look at Meta, and the changeling could see the tiredness in his eye. “When they find you, give them a message from me.”
“...fine, I will grant you this. What is the message?”
“Heh... ‘fuck you pale skin.’” With that last utterance, Deadeye’s body gave out and the stallion fell, over the edge of the rock, joining the waterfall once more.
It had been two days since Metamorphosis had tried his invasion, two days since he last saw another living creature, and, as much as hated to admit, would even have had Deadeye back just to stop the boredom. He couldn’t move, his harvested love energy used up just keeping him alive, and there was no chance of healing.
A weary eye turned as his ear caught the faded sounds of impact, and a few black shapes approached. Even though he was barely alive, Meta could easily distinguish the single human from the eight Guardsponies with him, and he let out a chuckle. “I... have a message for you,” he said as the human aimed his weapon. “...'fuck you pale skin.’”
There was a moment’s pause, then a bright beam of light was the last thing Metamorphosis, first born of Chrysalis and High King of the Changeling race, saw.