The Canterlot Courtyard stood silent. The only sound produced was from a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees and bushes. Guards stood in every square foot of the Courtyard, most standing over a still, black entity. Six particularly important ponies stood in the center of the courtyard, watching a vague pony shape squirm for the last few seconds of its precious life. The vague pony shape was a changeling, now still and dead in the crisp morning air. Those six ponies did not mourn it.
The changeling's long, blue-green hair glistened brightly, almost as if it was permanently polished. From the changeling's black mouth dripped an adhesive used to bind and trap its prey, as well as create various structures for the Changeling's use. Twilight Sparkle looked, disgusted, upon the figure, but it was a facade. She didn't know how to feel.
A rainbow-maned pegasus spoke up first.
"What now?"
"I'll go inform the princesses of our success," Twilight spat the word, "You five stay here and make sure it-- she, make sure she doesn't get up."
"We know she's dead, Twi," A southern accent replied, somber in its tone, "We checked five minutes ago."
"I know"
Twilight left the scene of disgrace and sadness, listening only to the soft crying of a pink-maned pegasus. She entered Canterlot Castle, and didn't look back.
The halls of the castle were, too, silent. No pony bowed to her combination of wings and a horn, nor did they acknowledge her crown. They hung their heads in shame. Her path was one she had trodden before, often times in fear or in happiness. Never once would she think about giving her mentor this kind of news. A victory in theory, but a loss in spirit.
They were dead.
They were all dead.
Twilight already knew how she was going to deliver the news. Her speech would be short, sweet, and to the point. Twilight was, after all, all about efficiency. As she walked, she didn't worry about it. She instead pondered all her memories of the blue-green hair and the black, hard chitin. It had taken all of 5 minutes for Twilight to realize Cadence was not herself on the days before the wedding. Twilight hadn't actually seen her true form until the wedding day. She seemed so evil then. Detached. As if she was a generic villain in a storybook, hell-bent on destruction alone. It took months of study to determine what she had really been after. Her very powers stemmed from the thing that destroyed her with quantity. An overdose. Twilight had never payed attention to the irony of the situation.
It was clear to Twilight that today was a turning point of history. Books would be published about this day for years to come. Centuries, even. Twilight pondered the possibility of the title "Changeling-Slayer," but dismissed it in disgust. She did not want to be known for the extinction of a species. It would be a bad reputation to have.
As she approached the golden doors she knew so well, only one thing occurred to Twilight.
It could have ended differently.
Queen Chrysalis looked out upon her cavernous home. The ceilings and floors were lined endlessly with green pods filled with viscous goo. The goo's purpose she knew well; It suspended the ponies within into a coma-like status whereby their love could be harvested through simple mind manipulation. The system was similar to an endless movie theater. She despised her ancestors for developing such cruelly efficient harvesting methods.
Chrysalis casually got up from her crystal throne and paced around. She wore no expression, but she was irate as all hell. Quickly and quietly she dove up the stairs next to the throne. She couldn't stand another minute down there, surrounded by all that anguish. It was as if she was in a graveyard, but she could see all the ponies in their coffins.
She made it to the top of the Western Tower of the Canterlot Castle, also known as her bedroom. She bolted for the balcony. She needed to see the outside. She needed it to be over.
But it wasn't.
The Balcony only gave her fear a firm ground upon which to stand. Endless droves of changelings flew this way and that, some guarding the castle, some on their way to a different part of Equestria. All servicing her.
Canterlot was empty. No bustling square. No glamorous Throne Room. Only her empire.
She hated it.
That's what she was, right? She was a Queen. A ruler. All the subjects bowed to her.
And yet, there were no subjects. Only drones. Mindlessly following the word of their mother. Unlike ponies, they had no desire for fashion, nor animal life, nor competition, nor family, nor parties. All they did was follow their Queen. Maybe once in a while, they played cards to pass the time between orders. They were not subjects of a Queen. They were servants of a Tyrant.
Tyrant
She despised the word. If the word itself was a pony, she would rip it to shreds and use its blood to paint the walls.
But then, that would only strengthen its meaning.
She was an tyrant, wasn't she? Her great plan was to crush, kill, and destroy everything in her path to world domination. She had done it. She had achieved world domination. The ponies stood in suspended animation, only to be harvested like crops. The other empires stood no chance against her armies: The Griffons and Minotaurs lacked the capability to deal with the sheer number of changelings she could throw at them. It was a surefire win.
She cursed herself, throwing her crown across the room.
It hit a Changeling.
"My Queen?"
"Go ahead."
"The 502nd Airbourne Regiment is ready to deploy to Manehattan, the last pony-controlled city, situated along the eastern seaboard, at latitude--"
"Manehattan lacks defenses. Am I correct, Private?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Tell the Commander of the 502nd he is free to go as he pleases."
"Understood, ma'am."
"And private?"
"Ma'am?"
Chrysalis faked a smile. "You don't have to call me ma'am."
"Okay."
The changeling scurred out of the room, taking Chrysalis' smile with it. She was alone with here thoughts.
Chrysalis watched the news being given to the commander. The pre-flight preparations. The V-Formation used so often by her Changelings. As they took off, one thought came to the front of Chrysalis' mind.
It could have ended differently.
