1 - Parole
“… not gonna happen, nope. Not even thinking about it. Not in your dreams. Not in my dreams. Sorry, but I must decline. Not in a million years. Nu-huh. Zero. Nein. Non…”
Princess Twilight Sparkle, Element of Magic, Sovereign of Equestria, Alicornae Eternum Magna Regina, Uniter of Creatures, and Penguinness Book of Equestrian Records’ Tallest Alicorn on Equus, sighed wearily. She glanced down at her large, impressive desk and noted with some annoyance that her empty coffee cup was still, tragically, empty.
She silently cursed the fact that she hadn’t thought to prepare a second cup. She had been in this room, listening to Prince Pharynx protest, for close to fifteen minutes.
“… Nahīṁ,” he continued in Punjockey, and then followed in another language with, “Nej! Neigh, nay! Net…”
They were in her private office, the one buried deep in the heart of Mount Canterhorn itself. The one she’d had excavated along with much of the mountain’s underground crystal caverns when she’d taken the reins of leadership over twenty years ago. The one that was essentially a librarian’s bunker, complete with at least five stories of bookshelf space, drifting automagical light-spells, and had every modern and magical amenity she could either devise or have translated over from the human world beyond the Mirror.
Coffee machines included.
Even if she wasn’t intimately familiar with the slow orbit of the celestial spheres, and had only the atomic clock on her desk – plus the rather gaudy thaumonuclear one taking up a sizeable chunk of one wall – to go by, she could tell that this meeting had gone on far, far, far longer already than she’d planned.
And it was all because Prince Pharynx, King Thorax’s second-in-command of the Reformed Changeling Empire, was acting like a spoiled nymph.
And he was still talking.
“… We regret to inform you that this is a thing which is both impossible, and highly insulting to consider. Never in a thousand years…”
“You already said a million,” Twilight muttered, eyebrow raised.
Pharynx didn’t even slow down. “Thousands are different from millions. Also, not in a billion years, nor a trillion…”
With a soft, regal huff, Twilight finally interrupted the royal changeling.
“Are you quite finished yet?”
“No!” Pharynx declared. Then, after scrunching his nose a bit, and letting the air settle, he quietly added, “There. Now, I’m done.”
Finally, he reached out with his bright blue magic aura, and hefted up his own cup. Not coffee, of course. Caffeine was quite lethal to changelings, Twilight had found, and so had provided a nice hot mug of chocolate milk, honey, and sugar for the visiting dignitary.
It was, naturally, a Pinkie Pie creation after the famous party pony had discovered how much changelings liked sugar, even more so than ponies generally did.
Pharynx downed the stomach-churningly sweet drink happily. In three gulps, it was all gone, and he’d placed the cup back onto her desktop, almost certainly deliberately missing the coaster.
And then, he stiffly stood up from the seat he’d occupied across from the Princess, and began to leave the office without a backward glance.
“Prince Pharynx?” Twilight asked, though in a tone that made it clear it wasn’t a question. “We’re not done here.”
Pharynx paused, mid-stride, and half-turned around.
“Uh, pretty sure we were,” he said with a frown. “I’m not sure if I know more than one-hundred-and-fifty-two ways to say ‘No’.”
“Pharynx…” Twilight warned.
“Ah, whadd’ya want me to say, Princess?” the changeling royal whined and turned around fully. “She was a complete and utter monster. And you called me up here to talk about letting her go? I’mma have to give a hard pass, on behalf of the Hive.”
“Your Highness,” Twilight said again, with a wearying sigh, “the punishment was cruel and unusual…”
“And deserved!” he hissed back. “Beyond what she did to other tribes and creatures, she destroyed our own culture! We lost so many centuries of knowledge and history to her vanity. Anything that didn’t agree with her warped self-importance or her view on reality was burned out of us.
“She did this!” Pharynx flashed with blue fire, his dark cyan and crimson form returning to the old, black chitinous one the changelings had long since moved on from. He held up one hoof, and displayed the holes in his foreleg with an accusatory jab.
Twilight found it hard to look. Only decades of experience kept her reaction to something as small as a twitch of disgust and fear.
“Cruel?” Pharynx snarled as he shifted back into his true form. “Maybe. But deserved.”
“Pharynx…” Twilight said with a shake of her head. “She’s still your moth—”
“Out of respect for decades of friendship,” he cut in instantly, eyes narrowing, “I will refrain from declaring war on Equestria if you don’t finish that sentence.”
The Princess bit down on her words, and met Pharynx’s heated glare.
She knew that this conversation would go this way. She’d planned on it. Every mental calculation and graph and chart she’d composed this morning told her what Pharynx would most likely say, and do.
Naturally, that meant she knew to say:
“Then we owe it to future generations of changelings, ponies, and all creatures… to be better than her.”
They each stared at one another. Pharynx’s gaze had been honed through years of discipline and warfare. He’d lived a life of unending cruelties and hardships, Twilight knew, and then a life of things that he’d defend against such hardships with his very life, if it was called for.
By contrast, all Twilight had backing her stare was the weight of her convictions.
Pharynx never really stood a chance.
He blinked first.
“This… isn’t one of those things I have a say in, is it?” he sighed.
“Not really, no,” Twilight admitted, shaking her head softly.
“Well, is there a reason for me to be here then?” he asked with a touch of sarcasm in his tone. “Or did you just want me to let Thorax know? Cuz you could have just sent him a letter.”
Despite the venom in his voice, Pharynx started back towards his seat. He didn’t even throw it across the room or break it into splinters or anything like that, which Twilight assumed was a good sign.
She nodded to the prince, hoping that a modicum of respect would help keep the rest of her meeting as smooth as possible.
“While I have the final say on the terms of Chrysalis’ release,” she said, “it wouldn’t be fair for me to shut the changelings out of this process. I specifically asked for you, because of your background in security, your reputation for vigilance…”
He tried to hide it, but Pharynx did swell slightly with pride when she said that.
“… and your knowledge of changeling abilities and biological functions,” Twilight finished with a more serious expression darkening her face. She leaned forward slightly, and said, “I respect your Hive’s wishes to not share medical data with anycreature outside of the changelings themselves, but…”
Pharynx grumbled, and folded his hooves before him. “We were the world’s number one enemy for a thousand years, Princess,” he said, a slight darkening in his cheeks the only evidence that he may have been ashamed of that fact. “If you had as many enemies as we do, you wouldn’t be so quick to share that sort of information.”
Twilight nodded. “Of course. We already know what caffeine can do to a changeling, so it’s very possible there are a lot of odd weaknesses your changelings might have that you wouldn’t want exploited.”
The prince said nothing. It was the silence that was most telling to Twilight.
“Again, I respect those wishes,” she sighed. “Truth be told, the changelings in the Guard wouldn’t disclose information of that nature to our doctors either. I assume that makes you feel a little more at ease?”
Pharynx tilted his head to one side, and turned just enough to somewhat hide his smirk. Twilight knew he’d always been the one most vocal against allowing changelings to leave the hive and join the Equestrian Guard for that very reason.
Must have been nice, learning that your own people were still your people.
“A little,” he admitted.
Then, slowly, he returned his gaze – still a little suspicious, still a bit calculating – to the Princess. Pharynx sighed, and said, “Alright. What’s the plan?”
“Good Mo-o-o-orning!” Ocellus sang as she pranced down the stairs leading to her room. She had taken the attic as her own when she moved into the three-story Ponyville home so she could set up a telescope and mini-observatory with a good view. It meant hiking up and down the most stairs in the house, but Ocellus considered it a sort of tribute to her old friend Silverstream, who was probably doing the exact same thing in the Canterlot apartment she was sharing with Gallus.
Ocellus skipped past Smolder’s room on the second story and tried not to stare too closely at the mess that was surely in there, despite the fact that Smolder had probably spent all night in her office, finishing paper-grading that she knew she should have started a week before.
Don’t think about it, she coached herself. You’re her roommate and colleague, not her parent.
A bit more pleasantly, Ocellus noted that her young cousin Mandible’s room, just at the top of the last flight of stairs, was in pristine condition. The only disturbing element was that his bed/maturation pod was hanging from the ceiling by a thin line of changeling wax, but Ocellus reasoned that the next generation were all a bit strange compared to hers.
The bright blue changeling smiled as she launched herself down the stairs and into the kitchen, laughing, “Who’s ready for a great day?”
There were two half-cheer-half-grumbles from the little breakfast table. The slightly more enthusiastic response was from Mandible, or Dib as his Cutie Mark Crusader friends called him. The bright orange nymph was a little preoccupied guzzling down a bowl of sugary sweet cereal, and so his response was somewhat muffled.
The second, even less cheerful response, was from the other member of the household.
“There’s no such thing as a good morning,” Smolder groaned, and drew another red ink line across the paper she was grading. There were three empty coffee mugs nearby, as well as four energy bars, and two of those disgusting energy drinks Smolder was always importing from the human world.
“Oh, but there is!” Ocellus cheered, perhaps trying to counterbalance the amount of grump in the room just then. “Today, I get to start my lesson on Reconciling with Once-Enemies, and then we have that new training session after school…”
“Joy,” Smolder snarled.
“… with Miss Trixie and Capper. I get to present the activity, which I think you’ll li-i-i-ike!” Ocellus sang out the last bit.
“I bet I wo-o-on’t,” Smolder said, not even trying to sing-song back.
Ocellus rolled her eyes, but kept her smile. “Fine, be grumpy!” she laughed, and made for the food cupboard. “But seriously, you’ll like it…”
Dib, finally polishing off his breakfast, smacked his lips and sighed with content.
“They really need to import more human cereal to the Hive,” he said, wistfully. “Seriously, who ever thought to add marshmallows to cereal?”
Smolder chuckled, and crossed out an improper conjunction. “Well, Pinkie Pie tried something like that once, but she mostly just made smores and soaked them in milk…”
Both Ocellus and Dib shuddered involuntarily at the thought. All that sugar. All that sugar!
“So, kid,” Smolder asked as Ocellus returned to the process of rummaging for breakfast, “what’s up with you today?”
Dib shook off the image of sugary goodness, and smiled wickedly. “Oh, well Miss Silver Spoon said we’re doing some kind of pony derby thing, but I got no idea what that’s about. But then, Ann’s teaching Cozy Glow about trust-falls after school. I’m gonna bring popcorn.”
Ocellus glanced over her shoulder, and shot her cousin a curiously arched eyebrow. “Popcorn? To a trust-fall exercise?”
Dib nodded enthusiastically. “Ann’s teleporting us to some place called the Cliffs of Insanity to do it. So—”
Smolder snorted, and quickly turned her head before a jet of laughing-fire could disintegrate the paper in her claws.
“Oh smokes!” she chuckled and coughed in equal measure to get her fire under control. “That kid is something else!”
“Dib?” Ocellus said with a frown. “Please tell Anarchy to come see me after school. Before she starts lobbing her parolee off a cliff.”
Perhaps realizing his day was ruined, Dib sighed and nodded along.
“We should really give Anarchy some tips for dealing with Cozy Glow,” Ocellus said as she went back to rummaging through the cupboard. “It’s not about knowing the friendship lessons, remember? Her problem was—”
“Being a psychopath?”
“… not internalizing them, Smolder,” Ocellus groaned. She brushed another box out of her way with one hoof, and her frown deepened. “Hey, do… we not have any more tea?”
Smolder blinked. “I just went for tea last night.”
“Well,” Ocellus drew out one empty box of non-caffeinated tea packets, and several bags of coffee, “I think you might have misread a few labels.”
Smolder smacked her face, and let her ear-horns droop. “Ah, jeez… I’m sorry, Lus! I totally didn’t…”
But Ocellus was already smiling again, and fluttered over to her friend. She placed a placating hoof on her scaley shoulder, and said, “Don’t worry about it! I didn’t get poisoned this time, so no worries.
“And…” she sighed, smile wavering as the changeling turned towards the front door, “…I might have enough time to swing by the store before work.”
Dib’s head fringe stood straight up, and he raised one foreleg.
“Ooh! Ooh!” he cried. “Can you also pick up more cereal?”
Ocellus held back another sigh, but there wasn’t much reason to. Just looking at her cousin’s bright beaming eyes was enough to pick her mood back up. She giggled, and gave him a casual nod as she moved towards the door.
Right, she thought to herself. Grab a bag, hit the shop, go to school, teach the lesson four times, get everycreature to do the bobbing-for-apples-slash-gemstones activity, grade papers, try not to think about what happened with—
She caught herself, just as her magic was about to grip the door handle to her home.
She’d almost thought about… the thing she wasn’t supposed to.
I hope that feeling goes away, eventually…
Ocellus sighed, again, and opened the door.
Then, before she knew it, she’d smacked her face directly into somecreature’s chest.
A dark cyan chest. Covered in tough, but warm and flexible chiton.
A chest she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.
She almost gasped in surprise, and stumbled backward, wings flaring at her back with a buzzing ferocity. Ocellus blinked her eyes a few times, to snap her out of her shock…
Only to find the shock wasn’t going away.
“Um… hey, Lus,” Prince Pharynx said with a half-hearted wave, and a lowered head. His ears were flat against his skull, and Ocellus could practically taste the wincing pain behind his eyes. “Um… how’re things?”
Ocellus blinked.
“So, for starters,” Twilight began with the click of her mechanical pen. “Chrysalis, even in a love-starved state, is probably still quite a physical threat. Am I correct in assuming this?”
Pharynx worked his jaw for a few seconds, before he gave a little shrug, and said, “We Royals are made of tougher stuff than drones, yeah.”
Twilight scratched out a few notes, and paused. She waited a few moments. Then, she glanced back to the prince.
“Uh, could you elaborate?”
“If I have to,” Pharynx grumbled. “Besides the fact that Chrysalis is huge – which comes with an accompanying increase in strength and mass – Royals don’t work like other changelings. We have, like, these extra organs that can generate a tiny amount of Love in emergencies, and more generally redirect Love around us.”
Hungrily, Twilight wrote that down. “Fascinating…!”
Pharynx shrugged again. “I guess. Ocellus… uh, Ocellus used to say it was probably because we have ewi… ewo… ur…?”
“Eusocial?” Twilight offered. Though, even as she took her official notes, she quickly scribbled another one down as Pharynx stumbled upon that name.
Pharynx pointed at her with one hoof. “That, yes. Eusocial tendencies. Queens and Kings and Princes and Princesses can redistribute Love in a Hive to control population, manage resources, all that jazz. We’re like little love engines, that way. I keep waking up with nymphs and drones clustered around me, like I’m some sort of sleep heater!
“The grubs have started calling my brother Papa Thorax, since he encourages these group Love Naps to boost energy levels,” he added with a disgusted shake of his head.
Twilight’s pen skipped.
“… Population control?” she asked. “Does that mean changelings use Love energy in order to…?”
He narrowed his eyes again, but the ghost of a smirk was still on his lips. “Heh, yes? Don’t ponies do the same?”
The Princess blushed deeply, and tried to avoid eye contact.
“Ahem, right,” she said quickly, “let’s get… uh, back on track. So, she’s not completely defenseless. I suppose I’ll assign six guards to her instead of…”
The room suddenly echoed with barking laughter. Twilight’s wings actually picked up at the wretched sound, and she nearly dropped her notepad when she heard it.
It took her a second to realize it was Pharynx laughing. He nearly rolled out of his chair, only catching himself at the last possible instant with a practiced buzz of his wings to reverse his momentum.
After several long, long seconds, he seemed controlled enough to meet her frown with a grin.
“Sorry, were you trying to be serious?” he chuckled. “Uh, Princess? How do you think Chrysalis broke in here before your brother’s wedding?”
Twilight was quiet for a long, drawn-out second.
“I’d like not to answer that…”
“She literally walked in,” Pharynx said, tapping the table with his hoof for emphasis. “Your guards are a joke! Heck, the second time, a bunch of us pretended to be a cake delivery team, and we got to ride Celestia’s express elevator.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No, we didn’t,” he laughed again. “But it wasn’t much harder than that. Both your predecessors have glass jaws, by the way…”
Pharynx let out a few more chuckles and chortles before he could reliably breathe again. Meanwhile, Twilight merely glared grumpily down at the changeling, ever so slightly incensed at the very notion that her guards weren’t capable.
“I mean, no offense,” he said at last, still smirking. “It’s just… how do you think I got in here?”
“I think you’ve made your… huh?” Twilight raised a questioning eyebrow. “What do you mean? How did you…?”
At the front gates of Canterlot Palace, Burnished Bronze stood nobly and proud. Her armor gleamed in the glorious sunlight, and the wind lightly tousled the purple fringe atop her elegant helmet. The spear at her side… was dulled, and made of plastic, but it sure looked impressive. And that was the point!
She scanned the street with a steely, eagle-eyed gaze. Every pony or creature who passed could be a potential threat, a malefactor. Every shadow could be hiding an unknown foe, a conspiracy against the crown itself.
Every leaf on every tree was suspect. And if she had her way, the pegasus guard would have every one of the arboreal traitors cut down and--
“Loser says what.”
She blinked.
“What?”
Her partner, the eternally lazy Silver Hoof, startled himself out of a daydream, and turned to her.
“What?”
“You said something.”
He blinked the sleep from his eyes.
“Uh, no? Wait, did I?”
Burnished glared. “You did.”
“What did I say?” Silver asked, eyes widening. “I’m not coming down with something, am I?”
“Oh no!” Burnished jabbed his chest armor with one accusatory hoof. “You’re out of paid sick leave, you oaf! You’re not leaving me out here with Copper Kettle, or Tin Pot!”
And thus began the age-old argument between guards over which raw recruit they’d rather be trapped working with, and who had a better excuse to ask for leave or a vacation.
By the time the argument shifted back to a milder topic, like where to get lunch, the small potted plant who’d actually spoken first was already skittering down the halls of the palace complex.
Before she could ask for more information, the air pressure of the room shifted. There was a flash of brilliant golden light back towards the door, and the soft pop of a teleportation spell going off. Celeste Lulamoon, daughter of Starswirl the Bearded and Trixie Lulamoon, and one of Twilight’s top students of magic, appeared instantly and gave a soft, indignant huff.
“You know?” the pale gray mare said as she materialized into the room. She tossed her bright green wizard hat and cloak over to a nearby coat rack, and shook out her blue-gray mane. “If Pharynx doesn’t take these meetings seriously, then maybe he doesn’t get a say in the whole process…”
Twilight’s eyes widened, and she tried to cut in, saying, “Celeste! Pharynx…!”
“Seriously, how is he this bad at time management!?” Celeste pressed on as she teleported a hot mug of cocoa to herself and took a sip. “I mean, if this is how he treats meeting you, I’m not surprised Ocellus dumped…”
Pharynx was up and out of his seat faster than a bolt of lightning. His eyes narrowed, and his teeth bared as he turned half around in his seat and glared back at the unicorn.
“Hey! She didn’t…!”
Celeste stared back, completely unfazed. Well, slightly fazed. In that she was smirking now, and her eyes were smugly half-lidded.
This caused Pharynx to slowly lower his ears, and for his frown to deepen.
“You knew I was sitting there, didn’t you?”
“Yup,” Celeste said with a chuckle, and took another sip of cocoa. “Got an alarm spell on the door in case something like yesterday’s Cozy Glow incident happens again. You’re really easy to rile up, you know that?”
Twilight, firmly pressing her temples with both hooves, sighed profusely.
“So, you… snuck past my guards one day after they were embarrassed by Cozy Glow’s little rampage through here…?”
Pharynx, returning to his seat, shrugged. “Eh, made my point. And to be fair, Gallus let me in.”
“Why?” asked Celeste, hopping up onto a padded stool to one side of the room. She took what looked to be her customary place while sitting in on the Princess’ meetings, and continued to drink her cocoa.
“He thought it was funny,” Pharynx said with a small snort. “The griff’s got a good eye, I’ll give him that. Only one of your guards who even had a clue I was there.”
“Of course, he did that…” Twilight sighed again.
Guess I’m going to have to listen to his Guard budget requests next year.
“Back to what we were discussing,” Twilight said, quickly. She snatched up her notes, and gave the last few a glance. “I assume you’ll want changeling guards included in the group assigned to her?”
“Of course,” said Pharynx, crossing his forehooves. “But that just means we’ll be around to deal with her when she tries to escape. And even love-starved, she could still transform and cast spells to get away or hurt somecreature else.”
Celeste scrunched up her muzzle, and frowned into her cocoa.
“How? She’ll be wearing a Magic-Suppressor, won’t she?”
Pharynx blinked, and tilted his head towards the newcomer.
“One of those horn-rings, right?” he asked. “Wouldn’t work.”
“Oh?” Celeste’s ears twitched aggressively forward. “I’ll have you know I designed the current batch myself.”
“Wouldn’t matter,” Pharynx repeated. “Those things don’t work on changeling magic.”
Twilight nearly dropped her pen as her mind registered Pharynx’s words. She snapped her head up, and stared wide-eyed at the changeling.
“They…?”
“Yup,” he said with a nod. Then, he pointed to the Princess’ horn. “Your magic systems are all internalized, right? A pool of mana or chakra or whatever connecting your spirit and your stomach? And it’s all hooked up to the rest of you with channels and nodes and such?”
The Princess’ inner teacher wailed at the oversimplification. But… in the interest of learning something about changeling magic, she supposed she could let the lecture slide.
As a coping mechanism, she used her magic to cause a second pen thirteen levels down in one of her Arcane Laboratories to write out the lecture in one of the nearby books left open and prepared for such an eventuality.
Never let a good lecture go to waste.
When she nodded, Pharynx continued.
“Well, ours isn’t quite like that,” he said. Then, with almost no hesitation, he added, “Ocellus talked to me about it once, that one month she decided to become a doctor…”
Twilight cringed at the memory, and of the damages suffered to Canterlot General when the knowledge-hungry changeling had run amok through its halls in pursuit of its secrets. Patients pestered, doctors dumbfounded, and nurses bugged.
Why is Pinkie nowhere to be found when I make these zingers?
And, even if Ocellus did get that doctorate eventually, it was a wild month.
“… and I can’t really explain it like she can,” he added with a shrug, “but basically, our magic systems are diffused. Like the Love we store, it’s scattered throughout our bodies in little packets and pockets and… whatever else is a word for small things like that.
“Biggest difference, though…” He reached up and tapped on his chitinous horn. “… is that these things are more or less decorative. Unicorn loses a horn, and it’s a bad thing. Changeling loses a horn? We grow it back in a few days or weeks. Really, we can channel our magic through our chiton.”
Twilight and Celeste shared a look. It was a look of, among other things, sudden and inescapable dread. Celeste’s eyes took on a distant visage as her mind, packed so full of magical knowledge that only Twilight, Starlight Glimmer, and perhaps Starswirl himself could match her, began to grind through the problem before her.
And it was a problem.
“So,” Twilight said slowly, “there’s no way to bind her magic?”
“Cutting off the horn would help,” Pharynx replied, scratching the back of his neck with one hoof. “But all she’d need is a few moments to focus and…”
“Chrysalis would be free again,” Twilight finished with a sigh. She glanced back to her student, who was still staring into the ether, mouth working through the thaumic calculations, one hoof idly pawing at the air before her.
After another moment, Celeste closed her eyes. And with a sigh, she met the Princess’ eyes and shook her head.
“I… I don’t know how I can counter something like that,” she said, eyes downcast. “If Ann hadn’t destroyed Grogar’s Bell, or if we could replicate Tirek’s abilities…”
“Let’s not immediately descend into dark magic, please.” Twilight shook her head and tapped her desk with a bit more energy than was needed to snap Celeste from her reverie.
Twilight thought. And she thought. Her eyes closed, and her brow furrowed until it resembled a freshly ploughed field. She blew hot air from her nostrils, and took a moment to brush the ethereal strands of her eternally-wafting mane out of her face.
And then, she opened her eyes.
“Pharynx?” Her voice was tight, and strained. But it was also utterly in control of herself. It trembled like a taut bowstring, and Pharynx seemed to register that instantly.
“Your Majesty?”
Twilight drew herself up, and set her jaw. “Prince Pharynx, is there any way… any way at all that you can think of that would allow us to negate Chrysalis’ magic in a harmless manner? Without the need to maim her in any way?”
He shook his head. “There’s n—”
Pharynx’s voice quieted. His mouth clicked shut.
Twilight recognized the way his eyes began darting down and to the side. She recognized the way his forehooves twitched ever so slightly, and his wings vibrated against their constraints.
She often felt the same way when somecreature asked her a question she knew she shouldn’t answer, but could.
The Prince licked his lips, and hesitantly raised his eyes to meet the towering alicorn’s own.
He swallowed.
“I might.”
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And mother of dragons
So, Twilight has her own version of a Bat-cave?
Wait... WHAT?! How dare you insult coffee in such horrendous manner!
Literally missed the point of a spear
These kind of phrases gets assassins sent your way
10854083
The plants we grow to make caffeine originally did so because it was a pesticide.
images2.minutemediacdn.com/image/upload/c_crop,h_1123,w_2000,x_0,y_111/v1554921495/shape/mentalfloss/550096-youtube_0.jpg?itok=ISWUTWlz
im sorry is this connected to another story about cozy glow?
10854211
It's a sequel, yes. Cozy Glow got loose due to Discord and Fluttershy's kid, and she caused all sorts of problems before being stopped.
I cant stop imagining dib is from invader zim