“For Equestria!” There were only two changelings by the door, with their crude rifles in the air aimed at nothing in particular. Sweetie Belle threw their makeshift weapon so that it draped over both of the guards. Chance squeezed the wires in her hooves, then dropped her gutted tablet as the battery discharged.
The changelings seemed more annoyed by their assault than anything, but the metal net entangled guns at least, meaning both shots went wild. The drones both shot, filling the room with sudden smoke. “Help us!” Chance shouted back into the room, into the barracks of broken and weakened ponies. “We can take them!”
Chance waited for the net to stop sparking, then slammed her shoulder into the nearest of the drones. The creature squeaked in protest, then went down. Lyra struck beside her, taking the other one to the ground and jumping up and down on its head.
Mares behind them joined in the brawl, though the few that still had their magic joined with far more vigor than the shambling mass without it. The drones didn’t really stand much of a chance.
Chance dragged the weapons off of the fallen drones, inspecting them with a few rapid glances. Her previous evaluation proved to be mistaken—these rifles had cartridges, more Old West than Revolutionary War. She crammed one into her saddlebags, kicking the other toward Sweetie Belle. “You’re the only one who can fire this.”
“Uh…” The little unicorn looked confused, lifting it into her magic with some strain. “What am I supposed to do?”
“See the metal bits on the top? Aim it at the bad guys so the thin piece is in the middle of the circle, then pull this little metal piece at the bottom here.” She gestured.
“You mean…” The trigger started to glow.
“Not now!” Chance’s scream came soon enough to prevent her friend from firing into the crowd of nervous mares. “More drones are bound to be coming right now! We need the shots for them!” Chance turned, looking around the room. “We need to barricade the door! Our best chance is fighting from here, bottlenecking them in the door and taking more weapons. Then we can see if we can find the stallions and make a run for it.”
“Who are you?” an older mare asked, with a broken spear as her cutie mark and steely red eyes. She had been instrumental to dispatching the drones, and had been the one to fling their unconscious forms back out into the hall when they stopped struggling. “Who put you in charge, filly?”
Chance cleared her throat, trying to look braver than she felt. The drugs helped. “I’m a princess’s apprentice,” she said, loudly enough that her voice would carry. “She sent me in here to get everypony out.”
A lie of course, but they didn’t need to know that. As though Twilight would’ve dreamed of putting her in danger like this. Chance didn’t want to think about what would happen to the ponies that had done this when Twilight learned about it.
Then again, as she looked out at the crowd of nervous mares, most of them more shambling drunkenly than actually standing, maybe she did. A pony who could do this to their own kind… Chance knew what these ponies were feeling.
Beneath the stimulants and the painkillers, Second Chance could feel it too. The cold apathy that swam in a world of gray. Voices without music and colors without beauty, and the dark star that went on forever in the void. Worst, the cold. The warmth and love that filled Equestria and gave strength to her was no longer there.
The Nanophage would have to do until she got her magic back. Assuming I can get it back. It wasn’t as though she had any evidence the process was reversible. She had never heard of anything strong enough to take away a pony’s cutie mark before.
Invoking the princess had the desired effect. Even if the objector narrowed her eyes, the rest joined in her suggestion of barricading the door.
Only, no drones came. The minutes turned into an hour, and they heard nothing from the building beyond. Ponies whimpered and huddled, and Chance felt her control of the group waning the longer they took.
Eventually she sat up from behind the bed nearest the doorway, frowning. “I wonder… I wonder if they were the only ones,” she said, gesturing at the bed. “Can somepony push this out of the way?”
Somepony did, somepony who still had their magic. Sweetie Belle kept the gun in her own as she followed Chance into the hall, Lyra not far behind.
Aside from the beaten and bloody drones still unconscious against the wall and tied tightly in the net, there was no sign of a single changeling.
“Does anypony know the way out?” Sweetie asked, looking back into the room. None of the ponies answered with more than nervous shakes of the head, those few alert enough to do even that.
“We shouldn’t try to get the whole group out,” Chance whispered, so only Lyra and Sweetie could hear. “Unless one of you has a better idea, I think I’m gonna put that grumpy guardsmare in charge. We need to tell somepony about this place. We’ll go too slow if we try to bring everypony.”
Lyra frowned. “I wish we didn’t have to leave anypony behind, but it makes sense.”
Sweetie nodded.
It didn’t take them five minutes for Chance to talk to the angry mare and get back to the hall. “I remember… I remember the way to the entrance.” Chance nodded, bringing up the memories of what she had seen on the way in.
“Really?” Lyra gestured around them with one hoof as they walked. “This place is a maze.”
“It’s in here.” Chance tapped the side of her head with one hoof. “Nanophage stuff. That’s, uh… That’s what you have now too, I guess. Though… you didn’t get the Neuroboost, so it probably won’t give you functions like this.”
“Uhh.” Lyra looked away. “Forgive me, Precursor, but—”
Sweetie Belle grumbled, cutting her off with a look. “It’s just human stuff. She talks like that sometimes.”
“Just human stuff,” Lyra repeated, sounding almost awed. “Never thought I’d be on a secret mission with a human!”
Chance stopped in the entrance passage, the one with the sprayers and foul-smelling chemicals. There were no ponies sitting at the inspection booth, though at a glance she could see the boxes of contraband were still back there. “The security in this place sucks.”
“I wonder where everypony went.” Sweetie moved the gun in the air almost like a shrug. “Got bored, maybe?”
Chance ignored her. “Put that toy down, Sweetie. I’ve got something better for you.” She crawled under the table, then dumped the container out all over the floor. It was mostly tools, a few knives and other things. There was only one gun in the whole mass, so it was easy to fish out her stun pistol. Chance slid it along the ground with a hoof, pushing it toward Sweetie.
“Here, take this. It’s way better than what you have.”
“Really?” Sweetie Belle lifted the handgun beside the rifle, glancing between them. “It’s so small!”
“That’s because it wasn’t made by primitives in a cave!” she grumbled in frustration, pulling down on the butt of the rifle with her teeth. Sweetie dropped it, and the whole thing nearly fell on her face.
At least it didn’t discharge when it hit the ground. It would’ve been just her luck to get killed by a falling gun today. Chance glared, then started walking out the way they had come in. Chance didn’t know what was beyond the washing area, but… it had to lead to the outside, right? They were bound to find a window or a stairwell or something if they went far enough.
“Wait!” Lyra emerged from behind the table, dragging something out of the pile of knives and tools. Chance’s eyes widened a little when she saw it.
“The music player?” She hurried back, pulling open her saddle bags with her mouth. “Throw it in here, I guess.”
Lyra didn’t throw it, but she did lower it in with her mouth with an almost religious reverence.
“Why’d they take that away?” Sweetie asked, setting off down the hall. Soon the other two followed, and they were moving past the rows of sprayers and grates.
“I don’t remember,” Lyra admitted, looking down with embarrassment. “I think… I think I didn’t want to give it up. I was so tired, though… it’s hard to remember. The whole thing feels like a dream.”
“Yeah.” Chance looked down. She still felt a little like she was dreaming. It wasn’t a good dream, either.
The hallway ended with a thick stone door, barred from this side, and a pair of armed drones not unlike the two that had been guarding their barracks. The changelings watched them warily, but didn’t move or speak.
Their little group stopped about fifty feet away, watching them. “Why don’t they attack us?” Sweetie whispered, looking up to the changelings and then back to her friends.
“Most drones aren’t very smart,” Chance supplied. “They get smarter the more there are around, or if there’s a queen…” she trailed off, shrugging. “They were smarter before. I saw them take down adult unicorns, I saw them using formations when they were taking us to be… to be…” She whimpered, and nearly broke into tears right then.
Lyra rested a hoof on her shoulder, not saying anything. Chance looked up, and in those faded eyes she saw the same grief she felt. We’re broken, said those eyes. I know how you feel.
Chance swallowed, then straightened. “Doesn’t matter. You can take them both out with that stun pistol, Sweetie. Just don’t miss. Even if they don’t care about us here, they’ll notice for sure when we attack. I don’t think… I can manage a shield for us, right now…”
“Alright.” Sweetie Belle lifted the pistol, pointing it down at one of the drones. “Line up the straight thing inside the circle, right?”
Chance nodded. “A stun pistol like this doesn’t fire a projectile, it uses electricity. You have to hold the trigger down for a few seconds. You’ll see a line—that’s the air being charged so it will carry a current. Keep the line on your target until it falls over, then move it to the other one. You shouldn’t have to let go of the trigger.”
“Right.” Sweetie swallowed. “It won’t hurt them, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not permanently. It’s a stun pistol—it can’t do anything permanent unless you use it long after you knock them down.”
“Right,” she said again, sweat beading down her brow. “I can do this. I can do this.” Even as she said it, the tip of the pistol was shaking in her magical grip, not aiming at anything in particular.
“I bet Rarity could do it,” Chance offered, shrugging one leg. “Isn’t your big sister a fencer? Bet she’d take care’a these bad ponies no problem.”
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT WHAT MY DUMB SISTER CAN DO!” Sweetie squealed, loud enough that the drones at the far end of the room straightened and stared at them. Before they could do more, Sweetie pulled the trigger. “Rarity could fight a whole army of changelings!”
The gun didn’t shake as she fired. Chance found her coat standing on end, pulling a little towards the sudden static in the air. She saw a faint blue line pierce the darkness, connecting with the chest of the first drone. Chance heard the clicks of current, little flashes of lightning down the corridor of supercharged air. “Rarity could probably move the sun if Celestia needed a break!”
The drone fell over sideways in twitching spasms. Before the second one could fire, Sweetie screamed, turning the gun on it too. “I bet you wanna buy one of her dresses, don’t you stupid ugly bug?!” The drone only flopped around in reply, twitching with each click of electrical discharge.
“Uh… I think it’s had enough,” Lyra offered, looking suddenly nervous.
“Had enough!” Sweetie turned, though she did release the trigger. “You wanna join her fanclub too?” She gestured at Lyra with the gun, even as static crackled from the end.
“Nice job, Sweets!” Chance pushed gently on her head, so she was looking back at the doorway. “You did it!”
“I… oh.” Sweetie Belle lowered the gun, a grin spreading slowly across her face. “Guess I did, didn’t I?”
They hurried the rest of the way to the door, shoving the still-twitching changelings out of the way even as they muscled the bars and locks open one at a time. It took all of them pushing along with Sweetie Belle’s magic to get the door open, and even then they could only get it open just wide enough to make it out. There were stairs beyond, stairs that led up to street level.
They were in Fillydelphia. Chance recognized the look of the city, even if she had only been there a day. The streets were nearly deserted, and what few ponies she did see moved furtively as they darted from building to building.
“This place looks bad.” Lyra looked around, frowning at the nervous ponies and the strange-looking sky. “The weather team should take some pointers from ours in Ponyville, that’s an awful job.”
Sweetie nodded. “Rain in half the sky and sunny in the other? That’s pretty lazy.”
Chance ignored them both. “We need to find the police.” She turned, getting a good look at the nondescript storefront they had emerged from. “Tell them where that is… then send a telegram back to Ponyville.” She turned away. “You wanna do that, Lyra? You find the police, we’ll get a message sent… then we can meet at… at the train station. To head back together.”
“Right.” Lyra glanced at her own flank and sighed. “I guess… I’ll have plenty of proof to show.”