[We Will Live On] Part: 1-4

We Will Live On

By: Michael Abell

Prologue

“Can everypony please take a seat so the council can commence?” the speaker of the house announced, his voice deep and gruff, easily distinguishable from the common banter that filled the Canterlot Castle meeting room. He was a large, slightly heavyset stallion with a bright gold mane and a dark grey coat. He spoke with precision and class, reflective of his high standing lineage—the same one that had allowed him to be elected to such high a position.

The room that had been abuzz with idol chatter soon died down to a quiet whisper, all those in attendance quietly shuffled to their assigned positions around the large table that sat in the middle of the room. The room itself wasn’t overly complicated—standard decorations and designs that could be found all around the castle were present. However, it still was unique, with paintings of well established family crests hung all around the room; a large round table that lay in the dead center of the room with plush chairs lining its circumference.

Nobles, generals, and other members of the Equestrian Elite were amongst those in attendance; along with several other ponies who held high standing in the Equestrian government. Among them -- currently sat in front of the large, stain glass window that depicted her own crest -- sat princess Celestia. The princess sat patiently, her hooves gingerly crossed in front of he. She carefully watched over all others in attendance, waiting for the meeting to truly commence.

“All in attendance, members of the Equestrian Elite, we are currently meeting to discuss action and reaction to our recent invasion attempt,” the speaker called out from his seat, addressing all. “Those who wish to speak may now have the floor.”

The table instantly erupted in a cacophony of voices: all trying to talk over each other; all molding together in a singular garbled shout; all drowned out by the rest.

Except for one.

“My little ponies, may we please discuss in relative peace? This is a big issue we are addressing, and I expect you all to treat it as such,” Celestia spoke with a calm, even tone.

Her voice breached through the chaos, reaching clearly to the ears of all who attended. The room soon returned to silence, with some muttering quiet apologies.

“Much better.” The solar princess nodded. “I know most of you are still shaken up by the incident, and I wish we could put this off until later, but an action must be taken. The sooner, the better.”

A single, elderly stallion stood up upon the princess finishing, his golden armor clinking slightly. The stallion in question was General Crossed Swords, a hardened military veteran who had earned his title through his deeds when he served in the Equestrian Army.

“Princess, if I may speak?” the greying stallion ask. Celestia nodded. “I believe that the best course of action will be swift, brutal retaliation. These… these monsters attacked us unprovoked—without reason. If they are so bold as to attack our capital city, I can only fear what they may have in store later.”

“I concur with the General,” a noble spoke up, standing from his chair. “We must mobilize our armies and squash these vile creatures like the bugs they are!”

The room erupted once again. Nobles, dignitaries, and military personnel either shouted their support, or remained silent.

“Order! We will have order!” the speaker boomed through the cheers, the room descended into relative silence soon after.

“With all due respect,” began another noble, “we don’t have the means to amass an army so quickly. Equestria has been in peace for over a thousand years. It would take months to mobilize an assault the simile of what you are proposing.”

The aged general stood up again. “While we have few in numbers: the guard and standing forces at our disposal are well trained and more than capable of ending this once and forall.”

“‘Well trained?’” a noble scoffed. “Our city was nearly seized within an hour with your ‘well trained’ forces on high alert!”

A younger officer snarled at the noble. “We are not to blame for this! Our commanding officer was incapacitated under their leader’s spell, while our dear princess was…” He choked on his next words. “D-defeated. The resulting chaos caused our entire army to fall into disarray. We were swarmed during this hour of weakness and they took advantage of the discourse to overpower us.”

Another officer stood up, his uniform showing his superior rank. “I agree with Officer Stall—under these odds we never stood a chance. However, now that we know what our enemy is, and the shape-shifting power they control, we will not be taken by surprise again.”

Both officers nodded to each other in agreement, then both returned to their seats. Crossed stood up once again and slammed his hoof into the table. “What they lack in power they made up for with tactic; utilizing stealth and sheer volume to almost take down a greater opponent. But this is exactly why we must act now! Like us, their army currently lays fractured, their queen either dead or crippled by our Captain’s magical pulse. If we wait, if we delay, they could reform and mount another strike that we may not be so lucky to repel.”

Nobles and dignitaries erupted in both cheers and jeers. Many agreed with the General, arguing that a swift retaliation was the only available option to end the threat and secure safety. Others believed that attacking would start a full scale war, only plunging the Kingdom into more strife.

Celestia watched from her position at the end of the table, carefully listening and taking in all suggestion that were argued around the court. She pondered each and every one of them, thinking them through in great detail. But, one thing stuck out in her mind, an absence of a certain point: Mercy. She had known about the Changelings for countless years, their presence more then known to her. They were a reclusive race, preferring to remain in the shadows and away from conflict. She did not know where exactly the species resided, only able to pinpoint their origin to somewhere in the Equestrian Badlands.

Actually, that was not completely true. Long ago, Changelings had posed even more of a treat then they did now. Their skill in stealth allowing them to infiltrate entire cities, draining them dry of their emotions then moving to the next. This lasted for many years, but eventually died down to the point where they faded from Equestrian culture completely, their presence only known through story and myth.

And to her.

She shook her head, pushing away her tangential thoughts. Their history was a subject for later, something she would recount in detail at a later date. With her focus returned, the princess’s thoughts soon lead her to not how to respond, but to contemplate the why. What had caused this quiet race to emerge from the shadows?

Her thoughts were broken as the doors to the room burst open, shifting both her and the rest of the room’s attention from the issue at hoof to the unwanted intrusion. A large pegasus stallion strutted into the room—his armor dented, body showing fresh marks of combat. Two smaller, less built guards stood on either side of him, their forms just as worse for wear.

One of the nobles stood up. “How dare you barge into a Council meaning?! Do you not have any respect for your betters?!”

The pegasus turned his gaze to the offending stallion, snorting loudly. “I am here to report to General Crossed Swords and to him alone,” he commanded, his tone so fierce that it caused the outbursting noble to instantly sit back down, turning away to hide his fear.

The General stood up at the mention of his name, and cleared his throat. “Commander Blood Wing, what news do you bring to warren this kind of interruption?”

“I apologize, General,” Blood Wing spoke, showing his respect for the aged veteran. “I came to inform you that we were successful in tracking down a few of the bugs that had been expelled during the attack. After some ‘coercing’ we were able to weed out the location of their hive and also gained a plausible location of their Queen’s landing site. I have already taken the liberty to have dispatched team assembled and at the ready, pending your command,” the colossal Pegasus spoke, then adding, “I would also like to add that it appears that most, if not all, of their grunts were not able to survive the impact—we have yet to find one alive. Those who we have been able to capture have been commanders or high ranking officers in their army; a seemingly special breed of changeling that is tougher, more resilient than the mass of the swarm.”

The room erupted in murmurs again, and the Speaker was soon to regain control of the situation. “Quiet!” he called out, pounding his hoof into the table. He turned his attention to the intruding pegasus. “Thank you, Commander, for your prompt relay of this development.”

The pegasus nodded, gave a quick bow to Celestia, then exited, motioning with a quick gesture for the guards by his sides to follow.

Once the doors closed behind them, all attention was returned to the Speaker. He cleared his throat. “The council with take note of these developments, and take them into account as we converse.”

Crossed slammed his hoof into the table. “See?! Now is the time to strike! The mass of the attack was from drone, who we were just informed are all dead. Their defense is weak, their chain of command crippled, now is the time to strike! We may never get a chance like this again; it is now or never.”

The Speaker turned to both Officers in attendance, who nodded in agreement at the General’s point. With all branches of the military in agreement, the decision could now be voted upon. “All who vote in favor of an immediate counter invasion, speak now.”

The room erupted in shouts of agreement, everypony shouting in unison. Well, except for one. The absence of a certain voice caused confusion amounts those in attendance, all turning towards the offender.

Celestia remained quiet at the end of the table, her face impassive, her regal mask stronger than usual.

The Speaker of the Court spoke up. “Princess… Did you not hear the decision?”

The white Alicorn remained silent for a moment, before sighing and shaking her head. “Yes, I have, and I did not voice my approval because I do not,” she spoke simply.

The entire course muttered at this, confused by her decision. Crossed was the first to speak up. “Princess, if I may be so blunt, but why do you not agree with this decision? I believe the council deserves the right to know why their princess disagrees with an issue that is besides you unanimous?”

Celestia sighed, nodding. “I believe that we should not make a decision until we know of the reason for attack. What provoked their sudden aggression?”

Crossed rolled his eyes. “Princess, I do not wish any disrespect, but does that really matter? They assaulted our home, or capital, and caused the tragic death of many of our citizens, as well as our noble guard. I will be honest when I say I don't care about the why! Any creature who thinks they can attack my home, my country, must know that I will not take it sitting down. This must serve as an example for all that wish to cause us harm, let their aggression be the end of who would wish us harm!” He cried out, smashing his armored hoof into the table.

The court erupted in cheers and stomps of agreement, voicing their approval of the General’s plan. As the frenzy started to die down, the Speaker spoke again, “All in favor?”

All cheered once again, and then turned to Celestia. The alicorn princess remained in quiet contemplation, reviewing the situation over and over again. Finally, with a hesitant sigh, the diarc softly nodded her head…

Part: 1

The cool night breeze blew threw the silky hair of Drone 9836-12, a smile gracing his blackened muzzle. His body was relaxed, his mind at ease, boredom already setting him in a state of peace. The drone took a deep breath, taking in the soft scent of the night air. He was small for a drone, but he had never let that bother him… much. The soldier exhaled, opening his eyes and peering out into the vast wasteland that surrounded the hive. He enjoyed being outside, the stale air from inside the hive being replaced by fresh, clean air, and the feeling of the cool running down his black chitin and flowing through his holled hooves. It gave him the feeling of being free, being more than just one of the many who stood guard around the hive’s outer perimeter. He had liked the job at first, the feeling of serving the Queen for the better of the hive, but it soon became dull, repetitive, all meaning of honor floating away as the hours past by uneventful, his only source of joy was the feeling of the fresh air, and what little it brought.

A gentle tap on his shoulder made Drone 9836-12 jump in surprise, his calmed trance broken, and nearly fell from the large cliff that was his sentry perch. Quick to recover, the drone first made sure to regain his footing, then turning to see who had, so rudely, frightened him. The slight hint of anger that had appeared on his features softened immediately upon noticing who it was. “Hey, 7345-10,” he spoke, his voice raspy, like most of the other drones. His lips curling into a small smile as realization struck him. “Here to take over my shift, already?”

The other drone chuckled slightly, shaking his head. “No, you still have a few more hours,” he said as he sat next to the other drone. “I figured I’d keep you company in the meantime, as I have nothing better to do.”

The smile remained on Drone 9836-12’s face as he sat down next to the other drone. After having stared at the vast, dead wasteland that surrounded the hive for hours on end, he enjoy having company. “Thanks,” he muttered, then returned his gaze towards the emptiness of the surrounding land.

ZAP!

Drone 9836-12 jumped at the sudden sound, which was accompanied by a blinding light. When the light faded, and his eyes readjusted, Drone 9836-12 gaped in horror at the sudden appearance of a large, burning hole that sat in the middle of the chest of his friend. The drone, in turn, stared at his wound with fear, then nothing as he slumped to the ground, unmoving. Drone 9836-12 scrambled to his hooves, and over to his fallen brother. It only took a moment for him to confirm that he was dead, then he began to run back towards the hive, intent on warning to other changelings. He didn’t make it far, as a twin, burning hole erupted in his chest. He fell to his knees, and stared at his wound just as his friend had. Then, he was gone...

3 Days earlier...

Chrysalis walked into the large throne room of the hive, her steps echoing with the amazing acoustics of the room. The hive was located in a large cave; caverns and tunnels branching out in all directions. The walls of this section of the hive had been carved by many great changeling artisans who had changed the bare stone walls into depictions of beauty. Carvings of the past queens lined the walls, each with a nameplate below them. The roof consisted of many root-like carvings, all branching out from the large throne that sat in the middle of the room. The throne was a marvel in itself, being made from a rare gemstone that could capture and store the magical essence of love for eventual use. It also held a second purpose, showing the prosperity of the hive. The more energy the throne stored within its crystal architecture, the brighter it shined. Currently, the throne was almost completely dark, flickering only occasionally. The Queen stopped in front of the throne, letting her shoulders fall as she released a loud sigh, the throne that was once a reminder of power, now only showing the slow death of her hive.

That large changeling shook her head, a sad frown plastered on her muzzle. The sound of hoof steps clopping against the floor resumed once again as the changeling queen made her way past her thrown, heading down one of the many hallways that branched off the center cavern. The path that lead to her living quarters. As the distance between her and the grand doors of her personal chamber became smaller, the sounds of laughter slowly began to grow. Her downturn expression curled upwards into a smile, her sadness momentarily forgotten by the soft cheers of joy. She soon made it to the chamber’s threshold, saluting the changeling drones that guarded the door. Their expressions were that of stone, their bodies mimicking statues as their only movements were to salute back. With a gentle push of her magic, the large doors opened with a slight creek. A large bed, bookshelves, and a large desk filled most of the room marked the only material items that were held in magically lit room beyond. It was simple, with a simple aura about it. It did not shine with the glamor that was usually came with royalty, but held a [Stopped here]

, who was laughing and playing with one of the royal servants. The servant stopped playing with the pupa when Chrysalis had stepped in, and gave the queen a polite bow. Chrysalis smiled and waved for the servant to leave. The servant complied with a quick nod of her head before exiting. Chrysalis then turned her attention to the little pupa in the middle of the room.

"It seems that my daughter has been enjoying herself, have you not?" Chrysalis spoke, using a gentle and caring tone that she reserved only for her daughter. Her voice sounded like many voices mashed together at once, and it was just that. Her voice was a mash between all of the changelings in her hive. The greater the numbers of the hive, the more menacing her voice got. But, she could still tone it down at times.

The little changeling filly looked up at the towering queen and beamed, her smile running from ear to ear. "Mommy!" she squeaked, jumping up to hug the queen.

Chrysalis smiled and hugged back, nuzzling her head into her pupa's mane. "It is good to see you, Aurora. Your laughter and happiness warms my heart," she said through the embrace.

Aurora was small, her legs stumpy and her horn was still developing. Though, even with this, her magic was far more developed that expected for a changeling her age. Her mane was a mixture of red and orange and her eyes practically glowed a light pink. The little pupa was also more mature and intelligent for her age, but she still acted and played the part of a happy-go-lucky child. Because of her stumpy legs, Aurora only managed to wrap her hooves around one of the the Queen's front hooves. Aurora looked up at her mother, her eyes filled with childhood joy. "Momma, wanna play?!" she asked, hoping that her mother would agree. As of late, the small changeling had been seeing less and less of her mother, and when she did she was usually really tired and grumpy. But not today!

Chrysalis looked at her daughter, staring into her puppy dog eyes. The queen sighed before chuckling slightly. "Alright, my daughter, I shall play with you," she said threw her chuckles, and her heart soared at her daughter practically jumped with glee.

Aurora ran around her mother a few times, before taking a running jump, aiming for her mother's back. She didn't make it, only managing to jump half way up her mother's height. Before she hit the ground, however, she felt her body tingle slightly as she was grasp on her mother's aura, and lifted up into her mother back. Chrysalis released her magic from her filly, feeling her weight on he back.

The Changeling filly shuffled forwards, and gripped her mother's mane with her hooves. "Giddy up, momma!!!" Aurora giggled, slightly kicking her hind hooves into her mother's caripus. Chrysalis, in turn, laughed and reared up slightly, before beginning to run around the room.

Chrysalis played with her daughter for what seemed like hours, the laughter of mother and daughter filled the room and neighboring halls. Chrysalis always loved playing with her daughter, as it gave her a release from her duties of being Queen, and allowing her to forget her troubles, at least for a little while. But, her fun ended seemingly instantly from a single remark from her daughter.

"Momma?"

"Yes, Aurora?"

"I've been really hungry lately..."

Chrysalis' heart shattered from that remark, her playful smile instantly fell to a sad frown. Aurora saw this, and instantly ran to her mother and hugged her leg

"I'm sorry, momma!" the little changeling cried, "I didn't mean to make you upset!" Aurora buried her head into her mother's leg and began to cry. Not soon after, she felt her mother shift before feeling her mother's front hooves pick her up and cradled her in her arms.

The changeling queen rocked her daughter in her hooves, whispering soft, motherly coos to her daughter. It had pained Chrysalis to see her own daughter suffer from her failure to provide enough love for the hive. She had tried to give her daughter extra love to feed on, but there was only so much extra she could spare, even going as far as giving her daughter some of her own share. Chrysalis frowned, but almost immediately a soft smile perked up onto her lips. "Don't worry, love. Momma has an idea to stop your tummy from rumbling," chrysalis said, tickling Aurora's stomach, eliciting giggles from the little pupa.

"I love you, mommy."

Present...

Insectoid screams echoed throughout the great walls of the hive—some of fear, and others of pain. The Royal Guard had penetrated the protective walls of the hive, and were making their way deeper and deeper into the hive. As they went, most of the guards captured any changelings that didn't attack. Those who did, were silenced without prejudice. But some of the guard were still angered by the Changeling’s assault on canterlot, and simply killed every Changeling they saw, regardless if they posed a threat. Magic blasts and changeling defenses echoed throughout the halls, along with more screams of pain.

Most of the drones that had stayed behind were all set-up in the throne room, and guarded the entrance to Chrysalis’ room. In said room, a young pupa hid behind changeling servant, shaking uncontrollably. The servant frowned and tried to remain calm, reassuring the young filly. But the screams of battle outside the large doors made that all but impossible.

Suddenly, the doors of the queen's quarters sprang open, and battle-worn equestrian guards swarmed into the room. The servant put up a defensive position over the young pupa, ready to defend her to her last breath. The guards charged, their horns coated in their own respective magic glow. The servant's eyes glowed as a blast of magic shot from her horn and pushed the guards toppling back. The guards soon got back up to their feet and each shot blazing-hot plaza bolts from their horns. The servant tried to put up a shield, but the guards blasts shot right through it. The servant choked, a large hole now stood in the center of her chest.

She collapsed onto the floor, blood pouring out from her wound and out of her mouth. She coughed a few times, her green changeling blood shooting out of her mouth as she did. She managed to choke out ‘Run’ to Aurora, who was huddled not far behind the falling servant.

Aurora looked at the dying changeling in front of her with horror. She managed to get her legs to do as instructed, and began running towards the only safe place she could think of: Her secret hiding place.

The guards notice the pupa and readied their spells, aiming at the young changeling. But their concentration fell when they heard choked out laughing coming from the fallen changeling. They all looked to her, and eyes widened as they saw the servant was holding several magical grenades with the pins out. The servant smiled and choked out, "Fuck you."

The room exploded in a blast of magical energy, vaporizing the guards and mortally wounded changeling. When the dust settled, there wasn't much left of the once grand queen's chamber. Everything not made of rock, metal, or jewel had been turned to ash, and everything else was stained with a black tint. The royal guards that had went to investigate the explosion collected the broken and dented armor of their fallen comrades, and left. Soon, the hive was completely silent, the only noise coming from the last of the royal guards that were leaving the destroyed hive.

Thousands of years of Changeling history was destroyed in a matter of hours. The hive sat in ruin, it's walls cracked by the guards attack, artwork and carvings lay destroyed by their plasma blasts, and thousands of Changeling's lay dead on the floor. The hallways of the hive were covered in green blood, with only a small amount of red in contrast. Some of the Changelings that lay dead had died fighting, using whatever spells they knew to fight back, protecting their home. While most died running away or cowering in fear...

Celestia paced in her office, trotting from one side to the other. Her mind was a nervous wreck, and her mane was even worse. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. It had been over two months since the Changeling attack on Canterlot, and the solar goddess still couldn’t get it out of her head. She had let her subjects down. She had let them all down. She hadn’t been strong enough to protect her citizens when they needed her, and that fact had been wearing away that the princess for the past two months. But that was not what troubled the celestial alicorn right now. No, what was troubling the princess right now came in the form of a letter on her desk. As Celestia continued to pace, she was unaware of the door to her study opening and a midnight-blue alicorn trot in.

Luna’s eyes followed her sister with great sadness. She could see the pain Celestia’s eyes, and the strain in her form. From knowing her sister for so long, and the almost magical bond they both shared, Luna could all but sense the internal hurt of her sister. She had not seen her sister this upset in a long while. Slowly, Luna trotted up to her sister and wrapped her hooves around her neck. Celestia shuddered at the contact, but upon noticing that it was her sister who embraced her, she hugged back. The pair remained in the embrace for several more minutes, before they both pulled back. Celestia used a hoof to wipe away the beginning signs of moisture in her eyes, and motioned her sister over to the fireplace with a hoof. Luna nodded, and trotted besides her sister to the enchanted harth that softly crackled.

They both sat down and Celestia let out a long sigh. “Sorry that you had to see me like this, sister,” Celestia began, looking almost ashamed.

Luna just gave her a comforting smile and put a hoof on her shoulder. “‘Tis okay, dear sister,” Luna began with a smile. “But we dost wish to know the cause of thy upset. Is this still grief from the assault of our capital?”

“No, Lulu. Though that does still pain me, that is not it.” Celestia levitated the letter from her desk and over to her sister. Luna gripped it in her own magic and read.

Luna finished reading, and then gave her sister a questionable look. “Why does this bother you, ‘Tia? It is great news!”

Celestia frowned. “No, no it is not good news, dear sister,” Celestia began aloud, then whispered it again to herself, “That is the not good news.”

“But it says that the changelings are no more — the assault was successful! We are free from future troubles from them!” Luna said with a cheery smile, which fell when she noticed her sister’s expression.

“Luna, things have changed since you’ve been gone. We do not simply destroy all those who wrong us and provide peace through fear. Yes, the threat is now gone. But at what price? Sister… do you know what we...I, just did?” Celestia asked, her eyes threatening tears.

Luna tilted her head slightly, racking her brain for a logical answer. “We eliminated a threat?” she asked with uncertainty, not sure if it was the answer her sister was expecting.

Celestia’s face instantly turned that of rage; her sad frown shifting to a scowl. “Genocide!” she screamed, standing up and staring, with burning eyes, at her sister. Luna backed up at the outburst, scooting away from her sister, but Celestia stalked her sister, not allowing the gap between them to grow more than a few hoofs away. “We just singled hoofidly ended an entire race! No, I just ended an entire race.” Celestia would've continued her rant, if she hadn't seen the look of terror on her sister's face as she stood over her. The princess of the sun shakily stepped away from her sister, and took a deep breath. She'd hoped that moment would have been enough to quell the anger that continued to rise within her, but in reality, it didn't very little. Celestia took another deep breath, and continued. “Do you know what bothers me more, sister? Do you know what pains my heart the most right now?”

Luna shook her head.

“It is that that I am the only pony this seems to bother,” Celestia choked out. A few tears managed to escape, and rolled down her muzzle.

Luna looked shocked at her sister, not expecting the outburst. “But why would it bother them? The changelings attacked us, brought us harm, and we got our revenge. Plus, it is just changelings. Why would it bother them?”

The solar alicorn’s eyes lit up like the sun. “Because it is wrong! That is why! I try, day-in and day-out, to try to preach love to our citizens. I tried to preach to them tolerance and understanding.” Her eyes began to tear up. “When I had the meeting to decide our counter-actions of the invasion, every single member voted to kill. Every single suggested action was just a different way to kill. Even in my rage, I suggested less harsh actions.” Celestia began to let tears fall freely down her face. “It is my fault because I wasn’t as good of a leader to convince them otherwise.”

“But why not force them to do otherwise?” Luna asked. I remember a time when we did not have to suffer the stupidity of fools.

Celestia just bowed her head. “Because I am not a goddess, Luna. I am not a tyrant. I am merely a protector of our land. The greatest gift that I can give to my subjects is the right of free will, even if it means watching them make terrible, terrible mistakes.” With that said, Celestia threw herself at her sister and began to cry into her chest.

Luna winced a little at the sudden embrace, but soon hugged back, running a hoof threw her sisters celestial mane. As Celestia's tears continued to fall, Luna continued to run her hoof threw her sister’s mane, whispering soothing comforts into her ear. Luna had never seen her sister this upset; she had never seen her sister completely break down in tears. Luna had never had to be the strong one... But she would be damned if she would let that be an excuse for not being there for her.

It had taken hours, but the princess of the sun had managed to pull herself together. She had cried in her sister’s shoulder, and then remained in Luna’s embrace until she felt stable enough to get ready for her day. Luna had offered to stay, but Celestia insisted that she was fine. Celestia knew that she had to remain strong for her citizens, making sure to not show her weakness in front of them. She was the figurehead for her entire nation, being anything other than strong would severely crush Equestria's reputation with other nations.

With a warm bath and some excessive mane brushing, Celestia had managed to get her physical state almost as presentable as her mental state. It took a minor spell to get rid of the redness in her eyes from all her crying to finish it off. Smiling into her mirror, Celestia, metaphorically, donned her regal mask and trotted out of her study.

As she trotted, Celestia gave a regal wave and smile to any staff she encountered on her way to the royal court, and their happy smiles and wave back greatly helped brighten her spirits. She trotted through the courtroom door with an actual genuine smile on her face.

The court room was large, easily three times as large as her personal study. The walls were painted white, and had large windows that allowed the sun to gaze in. The ceiling was also white, but had a large window who's metal rebar was shaped into a rearing alicorn. Celestia remembered how that particular window had been designed so that the sun shone on her throne, that sat in the back of the room, at exactly noon. On the floor was a large mural of the solar crest: a white alicorn rearing in front of the sun. The the sides of the room had benches that anyone who attended the royal court could sit.

Celestia trotted up to her throne and took a seat, and snuggled into it's soft, velvet material. Celestia had hoof picked the material that composed her throne, and never regretted her decision. Even after it's many years of service, her throne was still as soft and comfortable as the first time she had sat in it. With a semi-sincere smile, Celestia took a deep breath and announced: “The day court is now in session!”

With those words spoken, the mob of pony's that had been meandering the court room slowly shifted into an orderly line. Those who held standing in the court took their places along the walls of the room. Celestia designed this system so that she'd personally hear out each pony that came to voice their complaints, propose something of governmental value, or simply shown up to end a petty dispute. After hearing them out, she would either personally resolve the matter, or send the pony to one of her representatives that would...

Celestia had never, in her many years of reign, had ever had such an... emotionally challenging day at court. Even the assassination attempts that she's had during day court hailed in comparison to today. But unlike those occasions, she felt like it was all of her pony's that held a knife to her heart. For some reason, her vision seemed to be clear of her clouded, perfect view of her ponies. And instead, she saw them for who they really were: Monsters.

Almost all of the attendants at today's court had congratulated her on the extinguishment of the changelings, or asked about the process of such efforts, depending on their level of ignorance to the issue. The others that showed up, however... Such selfish issues.

Everypony was arguing about petty issues; yelling about stuff that only the greedy would pay notice. Celestia had to hold herself back from yelling about how stupid and immature everypony was acting. All this time she thought that her nation was the epidemic of harmony and compassion, but the past few months have been slowly chipping away at her picture, revealing the truth in the canvas.

Celestia had to excuse herself early from court, much to the displeasure of those attending, and decided to get something off of her chest. There was something that she had to do, whether she liked it or not...

Celestia’s hooves clip-clopped on the ground as she walked threw the lower layers of the castle. Her face remained neutral; not showing any emotion. Her composure was rehearsed, and didn’t seem to be any different than the way she normally walked. This particular level of the castle was reserved for the Royal guard and anything that went along with the equestrian military. When the castle was build, Celestia and Luna both agreed to have the military below and out of the common pony’s view. It wasn’t that it was secret, more of that it housed some aspects that the princess didn’t wish for their citizens to notice.

When she stopped, she stood in front of one of those aspects: the prison. Although there was a "normal" prison located above in the city, it was used for common criminals. This one, that resided deep within the mountain, was used for the more dangerous of captives. Celestia gave the pair of guards that stood sentry besides the large metal door curt a nod. The guards saluted in return, both turning and using the key that hung around their necks to unlock both sides of the door. The guards then swung the door wide, allowing Celestia to trott in.

The area behind the doors was filled with cells, about a dozen guards patrolled the metal grated of said cells. Celestia ignored them, however, already knowing their rounds by heart. She also didn’t pay attention to the creatures inside of these cells, her gaze and focus set on a reinforced door that stood at the end of the hall. The princess quickly made her way to the door, before sticking her horn into the specialty lock. There was a soft “click” and the door slowly opened. Celestia trotted inside, and shut the door behind her with her magic.

A single light hung in the middle of the small room infront of her. At the far edge of the room was a slightly large cell than those in the main jail, but, instead of metal bars, this cell had dark pink bolts of magic where the metal bars would be. The magic beams let out a soft hum, supplying the air with a slight scent of ozone. The inside of the cell, however, didn't vary practically at all from the other ones, having the basic components needed, such as a bed, sink, toilet, and small table. There was only once prisoner in this cell, who curently had her gaze set at the opposite wall of the cell.

The hooves of the prisoner were shackled together, a single chain connection the cuffs on their front hooves to the ones around their back hooves. The prisoner's crooked horn had a large, metal ring around it, strange glowing arcane glyphs running around it's circumference. The prisoner either didn’t noticed Celestia's arrival, or didn’t care enough to react—continueing to face the bare wall, a blank and emotionless expression on their face. Celestia, on the other hoof, looked upon the prisoner with the same expression she’d walked in with.

The solar mare loudly cleared her throat, now grabbing attention of the prisoner, who responded by slowly turning their head to face the princess and immediately scowled, her wings making a menacing chirp.

Celestia didn’t react to the display, instead speaking with a clear, even tone. “Hello, Chrysalis.”

Chrysalis hissed in response, not even wanting to speak.

The princess shook her head, expecting the response. “I wish for this conversation to be as civilized as possible; I have all day to wait for you to oblige my wishes,” she spoke with the same, even tone.

The Queen scowled, but did not hiss.

Celestia took this as a sign of agreement. “Good,” she began. “Now, I first wish to know how you are doing?”

Chrysalis scoffed. “How am I doing? Seriously, you have to ask that?” Celestia nodded, while the Queen chuckled halfheartedly. “Fine. I am having a fine stay in your little five-star accommodation, your highnessssss,” she said, hissing the last syllable like a venomous snake.

Celestia did not laugh, she did not smile, she simply kept the same, neutral expression. “I see... that is good to know.” The princess sat down on the floor just feet from the magic bars, shifting slightly until she was comfy. Celestia then returned her focus to the changeling, before continueing. “I hear you gave my guards quite a hard time bringing you here.”

Chrysalis laughed, her chains rattling. “Those guards were pathetic! I took down ten of them even while I was injured from the blast.”

Celestia finally smiled. “And yet, here you sit—my ‘pathetic’ guards being the ones to bring you here.” Celestia hadn’t known how Chrysalis would react to the quibb, but she definitely didn’t expect her to smile.

Chrysalis continued to smile at her captor as she spoke. “I may be here,” she began, “but not all of your guards are here as well.” Celestia’s left eye twitched ever so slightly. Chrysalis’ smile grew wider, noticing the small movement on the princess' stonic expression. “How many was it, again? I think it was five. Oh, and I don’t think that pegasus shall be flying any time soon.” Chrysalis’ kept her grin as Celestia’s face turned into a scowl.

The now angered solar mare glared at the changeling queen, who kept on smiling back. “You caused six deaths, thirteen mildly wounded, and three critically wounded,” Celestia spat. “And I am still surprised that my guards let you live after that.”

“Like you, I am very hard to kill. Although, from the beating I got from those guards who brought me here, I don’t think that fact was intentional,” Chrysalis spoke, her face now turning back to only a slight grin.

Celestia took a deep breath, before speaking. “Whatever the reason, you are now in my custody, and I shall deal with you accordingly,” Celestia spoke with a now calm voice. “But I am not here to discuss the details of your capture. I am here to personally inform you of a recent development.”

“Oh? Do tell?” the queen said with fake curiosity.

Celestia took another deep breath. “After your attack upon our capital... it was decided that the best course of action was to launch an immediate counterattack upon your hive.” The captured queen’s eyes went wide, her expression changing to one of shock. “The goal of this counter attack was to capture all remaining changelings…” Celestia paused for a second, regretting the next words. “Lethal force... was allowed for any resistance.”

Chrysalis’ mouth hung open, her body shaking slightly.

“The attack was carried out a few hours ago. It was a success,” Celestia finished. Her expression remained neutral, though she held back her sadness.

Chrysalis closer her mouth, then opened it again; no words coming out. She just stared blankly at Celestia, unable to respond. Then, she scowled, her face turned to that of complete rage. Her glossy wings began to frantically buzz together and she hissed deadly at Celestia, jumping closer to the magic beams, not caring about her restraints. “Those changelings were innocent! They had nothing to do with my actions!” she screamed, her wings buzzing louder. Then, her eyes went wide with concern as a thought popped into her head. “Where is my daugher? What have you done with her?!”

This time, it was Celestia whose eyes went wide. “D-Daughter?” she stammered, “I did not know you had a daughter.”

Chrysalis almost lunged at the beams, but managed to restrain herself. “Where is my daughter?!” she screamed again.

“I don’t know!” Celestia blurted out. “I was not told of any young changelings being captured...in fact, the amount of changelings that were captured was quite low.”

Chrysalis jumped at the bars, desperately trying to grab Celestia. Her eyes were filled with tears as she screamed, “You murderer! You killed my Daughter!!!!”

Celestia was well out of Chrysalis’ reach, but that still didn’t stop the changeling from trying. The solar princess stared blankly at Chrysalis, not knowing how to react.

Chrysalis’ body burned as it continued to make contact with the magical bars, the queen not even reacting to the pain. The room slowly began to fill with the smell of her burning flesh. “Monster! You fucking monster!”

Celestia backed up, her faced filled with both shock and sadness. She quickly turned around and left the room. All the same time, she heard Chrysalis’ voice continue to scream the word: ‘Monster’.

Celestia closed the door behind her and quickly made her way out of the prison, not looking at any of the guards. She banged the large double doors with a hoof and the guards at the other side opened it. Celestia looked at the guards for a second, just the briefest of moments, before walking past them. She trotted slowly down the hall and heard the double-doors shut.

Both guards used their respective key to seal the door to the prison. They both returned to their positions on either side of the door. As they watched their Princess trott out of sight, one of the guards turned to the other and asked, “Was it just me… or was Celestia... crying?”

Part: 2

Far away from the Celestia and Canterlot, Aurora, the tiny changeling princess, slowly emerged from sleep’s grasp. The first thing that became known to her was the horrible smell. It permeated the air and stank horribly, making her physically wince awake. Aurora blinked, thinking (and praying) she had only experienced a terrible nightmare—that what had happened yesterday, was only a bad dream. But as the smell continued to penetrate her nostrils, and she noticed where she currently lay, that was seeming less and less a possibility. Slowly, Aurora rolled onto her hooves and began to squeeze back through the entrance to her secret hiding place (which was a small, eroded cavern behind the Queen’s bedroom). But to her surprise, there was something blocking her path. With all of her strength, she pushed at the barrier, which eventually gave. As she began squeeze through the tiny opening she had created, she quickly realized that the blockage was broken bits of heavy, charred stone and mortar. Deciding to not focus on her realization, Aurora squeezed her body even more and made her way through the entrance.

Stepping out, the young changeling almost fainted in complete shock at what she saw. The living quarters she had grown up in, spent her entire childhood in...her mom’s room, was completely destroyed. If it weren’t for the fact that this room was the only one connected to her hiding-spot, she wouldn’t have even been able to recognise it. Every piece of furniture was just… gone, and in their place were piles of ash. Random bits of metal and jewel were sprawled around the room, some sticking out of the ash, and some even embedded into the walls. Rocks that had fallen free from the ceiling were also laid around the room, making the once grand bedchamber look like nothing more than a simple cave. The whole room smelt of ozone and ash, along with whatever the horrible stench was that still filled the air. Aurora slowly trotted into the room, leaving hoofprints in the ash. She stopped, mouth agape, when she saw the shadowy outline of a changeling imprinted into the floor. The outlying would've remained unnoticed, if not for small, royal pendant that each of the royal servants wore in the center of the outline.

Aurora’s eyes began to water as she collapsed onto the scorched outline of the servant.

"Run!"

She could almost hear the servant say as blood poured from her mouth. That image replayed in the little changeling’s mind over and over again as she cried and shaked. It seemed like hours before she could collect herself enough to get onto her hooves. She picked up the blackened pendant and put it’s once silver chain around her neck. With one more sniffle, she walked out of the blown-back doors of the room.

The hallway greeted to the sight of dozens of dead changelings sprawled down the hallway. Each of them held marks of plasma damage, sword marks, or another battle wound. Their green blood leaked from the wounds, and was coating the floor of the hall almost completely green. The walls of the hall held many scorch marks and large cracks. Aurora looked on in disgust, her heart falling at the sight of her fellow Changelings. She walked forward, her hooves sticking slightly in the almost dry blood. She held back the bile that threatened to escape her throat.

The small changeling moved as fast as she could out of the hallway of death, the smell of the dead slowly filling the air. As she exited the hall, she skidded to a halt as she gazed into the throne room. The once grand carvings of the past queens were defiled and destroyed. Some showl damage of magical grenade damage, and others were simply destroyed due to countless plasma bolts. More dead lay on the ground, but not half as much that lay in the hall she had just passed. It was now she noticed the blood that covered her hooves, and she finally couldn’t hold back the bile in her throat.

She heaved as her stomach rejected its contents onto the floor. She continued to heave until nothing else would come back out. Even then, she dry-heaved until her throat hurt. She wiped her mouth with her shoulder and shook as she stared at her hooves. She was young, but she was smart enough to know what happened. In a state of panic, she did the only thing she could think of: scream for her mother.

“Momma!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, the throne room echoing her small cry. “I need you, Momma! Please! I need you!” She shook, curling up into a ball.

Everywhere she looked there was death. She couldn't sense her mother. She felt so alone. In her desperation, she tried to connect to the hive mind. Being young and her brain not being developed enough to handle the hive mind, she had been forbidden to connecting to it until she was more mature, as connecting now could possibly cause permanent psychological damage. But she didn’t care about that now, she needed to know she wasn’t alone, she needed to know what happened, and, most importantly, she needed her mother.

Aurora’s horn developed in a sickly green glow as she tried to connect to the mental link that all changeling’s shared. She did not need to be taught how to do this, as it was an instinct. She could feel herself connect and prepared herself for the surge of voices. But she heard none. No voices called out. Not voiced talked. There was just…silence. Aurora began to panic and mentally screamed out, “Momma!” She waited for a response, but not came. The silence cut into her like a knife, tearing apart her heart and soul.

She disconnected from the hive mind and began to bawl her eyes out again, shaking like crazy. She felt so alone, scared, and helpless. Her glossy wings chirped unintentionally as the pupa wept. Her sad song of her loss echoed throughout the entire hive, resonating off the walls, reaching every corner of the once densely populated hive.

The young princesses song continued, it's depressing tone continuing until Aurora could collect herself enough to stop crying. She turned onto her side and sniffles, wiping her eyes as best she could with her shoulder. The soft sounds of chirping still echo throughout the cavern… but Aurora couldn't feel her wings buzzing. The young princess's ears flicked up, scoping out for the source of the foreign sound. She sat up, her head rotating back to check on her wings. They were, in fact, flat against her back. Aurora looked at her wings curiously for a second… then her eyes went wide.

She scrambled to her hooves, running around in circles. Her ears perked up, and after some guessing and exploration, she finally though that she found the direction of the chirping. On tiny legs, the hopeful princess ran down one of the branching hallways, her once tired eyes now filled with hope.

The sound got louder as she seemed to get closer, but also softer, as if its origin was growing weaker. She ran faster, her hooves scrambling as she followed the sound. Finally, the young princess skidded to a stop in the middle of a large, circular room. The walls of this room were much like that of the rest of the hive, cracked and damaged from the previous slaughter. The sound resonated deep within Aurora’s ears, the source having to come from this room.

The pupa let out a chirp of her own, and soon after its twin that had let her here stopped as well. The young princess began to panic as the silence continued… Until she heard a soft, weak call, “Help…”

The pupa’s eyes went wide, her head turning from side to side, before falling upon a fallen chunk of cave wall. She let out another chirp.

“H-help…” The voice called out again.

Aurora’s hooves scrambled to find purchase as jetted towards the chunk of wall, jumping on top of it and scampering up and over it. As she jumped down and onto the other side, the little changeling let out a squeak of excitement as she peered into the eyes of another, alive changeling.

A mid-aged female drone lay on her side, a small puddle of green blood pooled underneath her. A large chunk of the toppled wall lay on top of her, covering her hind legs and most of her midsection, but her eyes shined with hope as she looked upon the young changeling.

“Hey, little one,” the Drone spoke, her voice soft and caring, but also forced. “What is your name?”

Aurora let out a squeal, jumping up and down with excitement.

The drone chuckled, a smile forming on her lips at the adorable display. She turned and frowned at the chunk of earth that pinned her down. “I don't supposed you could help me, could you?”

Aurora was unsure, looking at the rocks that covered her new friend, but she nodded anyways, wanting to at least try. The young princess closed her eyes, focusing her magic in the rock entrapping her new friend. Her horn glowed, the rock soon after shined with the same hue. Sweat poured down her forehead as she concentrated as hard as she could, and soon the rock slowly began to lift.

The female's eyes went wide at this, beyond surprised that the pupa was actually lifting her stone prison, but knocked herself out of her stupor, and began to scramble to try and get free. Inch by inch, the stone rose, and soon it was high enough for the drone to scramble out from underneath, crawling out just in time as the young princess couldn't hold it anymore, her magic dissipating as she feel tired on the floor, the rock slamming back down with a loud crash.

The now freed drone panted, laying down and relishing in her freedom, before trying to get up onto her hooves. Shakily, she got up, her back hooves hurting, but definitely not broken. She then turned to the tired pupa, who was panting on her side.

“Wow… You are one strong Pupa,” the drone muttered, limping over to the tired changeling, plopping down next to her. She then began to run her holed hoof through her tiny saviors mane. Aurora purred, shuffling closer.

The drone smiled. “Well, little one, it seems that I owe you my life,” she began, before tilting her head. “I wonder who’s child you are. I don't remember having you in any of my classes.”

The drone was actually the hive’s school teacher, Soft Wing, the room that the two now lay being her classroom. She looked down at the small pupa that purred in her lap, a frown soon forming on her lips as the situation soon began to kick in. She turned her gaze up to her once grand classroom, now crumbled and destroyed. The memory of how her world changed forever was burned into her memory. The screams, the cries of pain, the shouts of anger all could still be heard in the depths of her mind. She shuddered, pushing those memories away while she took care of the pupa in her hooves. She needed to be strong for this child, be an anchor for her forever changed world. There would always be time to cry later.

Soft Wing tried to connect to the hive mind, and again found it again to be empty. That meant one of two things: that the queen was dead, or unable to maintain the connection. She disconnected, sending a soft prayer to her queen, then returned her connection to the child in her hooves.

“Hey, little one?” she spoke softly, gently nudging her awake with her muzzle. “Can you tell me your name?”

Aurora yawned, letting out a soft squeak as she stretched her back, looking up expectantly at her new friend. “I am Aurora!” she giggled expectantly, then frowned. “Have you seen momma?”

Soft Wing bit her lip, sucking in a nervous breath. “I… I don’t believe so, Aurora. Can you tell me your mother’s name?”

She giggled. “Oh, silly me! My momma is Chryssie! She said she was gonna go and fix things and… and then she didn’t come back.” She dipped her head. “Then the bad ponies came and… and then Nanny told me to run and…” Tears began to run down the little changeling’s face as she looked up at the teacher. “Why is everyling dead?”

The teacher froze, staring down in shock at the pupa, no, princess in her hooves. She had known that Queen Chrysalis had a daughter, but she had not known her name. Chrysalis had kept her pretty locked away, highly protected and isolated. This had probably been the reason why she had never had her in her class. But, that was not the only thing that shocked her. She stammered to try and think of a censored version of what happened, but came up with nothing.

Aurora watched as her friend seemed to contemplate an answer, and stood up to look as authorative as her mother. “I know that I am young, but mommy says that I am mature for my age. She said to make sure that everyling tells me exactly the truth, because… because, ‘one cannot rule under a throne of ignorance.’”

Soft Wings sighs, shaking her head. “Yes, your mother is right, my princess. We… I don’t know what happened. For some reason the ponies attacked and… and they hurt a lot of us. I don’t know why, but I do know that there is not a lot of us left.”

The tiny princess frowns. “Does that mean that mommy is gone?”

The teacher shakes her head. “I don’t know, princess… I don’t know.”

Aurora lets a few tears fall, and snuggles into her new friends lap, who immediately returns the hug, holding her close and protectively. “Don’t worry, child… everything will be… alright…”

The two had stayed there for a while, the teacher holding back her fear and sorrow to allow the tiny princess in her lap to let out hers. After all of the tears had been shed, and the princess could not cry anymore, and had been able to compose herself, Soft Wing had decided to search the hive and see if anyling else had survived. The teacher did not want to bring the young changeling along, wanting to keep her as far away from the death as possible, but also did not want to leave her alone, nor did she want to be alone. She was stuck between two horrible alternatives, and had finally given in to bring her princess along.

The two trotted through the destroyed hallways of their hive, Aurora resting on the teacher’s back and chirping her wings periodically, hoping to hear a response. Room by room they traveled, finding only death and destruction. More than once the two had to stop to deal with the situation at hoof, holding back waves of nausea or fits of tears. It was a lot to take in, to search for life within these dead hallways. Aurora took it well, far better than anyling her age should be able to, while Soft Wing… well, she held it all back to deal at a later time.

Finally, after almost giving up hope, they hear a sound that made their body’s fill with hope. A soft, desperate chirp sounded through the halls, responding to the princesses desperate call. With renewed purpose, the teacher and princess ran towards the direction of the cry for help, and eventually found its source.

A bloody soldier drone limped forwards, his body scarred and slightly charred, once glistening armor stained with shadowy marks of battle. He stared back at the two other changelings in front of him, a soft smile gracing his broken body. “Are you two alright?” he asked, his voice gruff and forced, his attempts in hiding his pain useless as it all could be heard through his voice. He took a step forwards, before his hooves buckled underneath him and he fell onto his side, hissing out a cry of pain.

Soft Wing gasped at the soldier, placing Aurora on the ground besides her as she ran forwards. “On my Hive, you are hurt!” She cried, looking over the soldiers wounds. She then turned to Aurora. “Princess, can you run back to the infirmary that we passed a little while back and grab one of the first aid kits?”

The tiny changeling nodded, turning around and running as fast as she could towards her destination.

The soldier coughed, turning his head towards the teacher. “Did you just say… princess?” he spoke in shock, before breaking out into another fit of coughs.

Soft Wing glided to the falling guardian’s side, taking out his battle scarred armor. “Yes, our Queen’s daughter survived the… attack, it seems.” She shakes her head. “Poor child is too young to be dealing with this.”

“Yes, but it is good to know that she did. It gives me hope for our survival.”

Soft Wing shakes her head again, finally removing the soldier's helmet and begun doing as much fist aid that she could. She was a teacher, and had been trained to be able to handle most injuries. Not to this extent, but enough to make a difference. “But what did happen? Why did the ponies attack us? Speaking of which, how did they know where we were?”

“They attacked us because we attacked them,” he spoke, his words losing confidence. “You know that our hive was dying, right?”

The teacher nodded, her face filled with sadness. She and all of the rest of the hive knew that. She nodded. “So… she attacked the ponies to save us?”

The soldier nodded. “That is what they said in the briefing, at least. I was supposed to go and join the assault, but was eventually assigned to remain here in case… well, this happened.” His gaze fell, fear and terror filling his face. “They were better than us. Stronger than us. They came quick and fast, assaulting like a force I have never seen before. I tried to fight back, like everyling else, but… they were too strong.”

Sounds of tiny hooves clattering along the hallway signaled the return of their young princess. The teacher turning her head, and could not help but chuckle at the sight of Aurora carrying an oversized medical bag in her muzzle. The princess spat it out at the teacher’s hooves. “I found it!”

Soft Wing smiled and rubbed the Pupa’s mane with a hoof. “Good job, my princess,” she spoke, before opening the bag and using it’s contents to properly treat the wounded soldier.

Aurora smiled at being helpful, and trotted over to face the soldier. Her smile faded as she saw how rough he looked, his body covered in scars and wounds. “Does it hurt?” she asks.

The soldier smiles at the young changeling. “A little, but I’ll be fine.”

Aurora smiled a little bit. “What is your name?”

“Drone 924-343.”

She giggled. “No, not that, your real name.”

The soldier cocks an eyebrow. “That is my real name. All soldier drones are named like such.”

Aurora frowns. “That’s not a good name.” She pauses to think. “I think I’ll call you… Strong.”

He tilts his head. “Why Strong?”

She smiles. “Because! Only someling strong could even walk as hurt as you were.”

He smiles at the compliment, but then frowns. “I appreciate the compliment, princess, but I don’t think I deserve such an honor. If I was stronger than I could’ve saved more…”

“More?!” the teacher cries out, stopping her work. “Do you mean that there are more?”

He nods. “Yes. I was sent out to try and find more survivors. The rest are held up in Chamber: C.”

“How many?” the teacher asks, her eyes practically gleaming at the revelation.

“About a dozen or so when I left. A few soldiers that survived and the General. The rest are just normal changelings that were lucky enough to either hide or just survive.”

“After we get you patched up we are heading there. If anything it’ll make me feel better that we aren’t the only ones left.”

After Soft Wing had binded up Strong well enough that he could be transported, the tree changelings embarked on their journey to meet up with what remained of the hive. Soft Wing helped Strong along, letting him lean on her for support, while Aurora trotted along besides the two, medical bag held between her teeth. It wasn’t that much of a walk to Chamber: C, which was actually a currently unused part of the hive that had been abandoned due to lack of resources. It was originally supposed to be a grand expansion to the already enormous hive, but due to the Hunger, the project had to be abandoned.

As the tree approached the large hallway to the unfinished section, they were stopped by a single sentry that stood in front of the entrance. He was pretty banged up, showing that he had not survived the attack unscathed, but not as bad as Strong. The drone instantly recognized Strong, and rushed over to aid his fellow soldier, taking his weight from the teacher and helping him into the chamber. Aurora followed close after the teacher, not being used to new changelings.

The hallway lead to a large open room, the walls roughly carved with unfinished stonework. About a dozen changelings lay around the chamber in varying condition. Some looked like they had barely suffered a scratch, while others were missing limbs. A few soldiers were amongst the worst of the injured, and those who weren’t were currently tending to whoever needed aid, which was everyling. The three followed as the sentry that was guarding the opening lead Strong to the makeshift infirmary, which was a pile of blankets and scattered medical supplies. The sentry helped Strong onto one of these piles, before turning to Soft Wing and Aurora.

“Okay, you two. Follow me so we can have you check in with the General. He’ll be wanting to know that you’ve arrived,” the changeling said, turning around and motioning for the duo to follow.

The two complied, following the sentry to the General. General Ghost Step was the hive’s highest ranked general, second only to the Queen herself. He was slightly smaller than the average changeling, contrary to his skill and status. He had a light blue mane, and was easily distinguished by the large scar that ran over his left eye. The changeling in question currently stood in the middle of the cavern, trying to direct the survivors and keep some sense of order.

The sentry walked up to him, making his presence known before saluting the General. “General, we have two new survivors.”

The general turned to the sentry, saluting back. The sentry nodded, turning away and trotting back to resume his duty. Ghost Step trotted up too the two, and smiled when he noticed Aurora. “It is good to know that you survived, dear princess. I was beginning to fear the worst.”

Aurora smiled and waved to the general. “Hi, uncle Ghosty!”

The hardened general let out a quick laugh, shaking his head. “You truly are the definition of innocence, Princess.” He then turns to Soft Wing. “I believe it was you who found our dear princess?”

She shakes her head. “No, it was her who found me. If not for her then I’d probably still be stuck under a pile of wall.”

The general shakes his head. “The exact reason why I am sending so many to go out and try and rescue. Who knows how many are trapped like how you were, hoping for rescue.”

“Uncle, is momma okay?”

“I don’t know, little one. But, I do know that she would be proud of you for how brave you have been.” He pats her head, then sighs. “Aurora… I need you to do something for me?”

The little princess tilts her head. “What, uncle?”

“I… I need you to try to restart the hivemind. Only one of the royalty can start and continue the connection. I need you to try and do this so that we can try and contact all who are still with us. Please, Aurora, I need you to try.”

The young changeling stands up tall, puffing out her chest. “I can do it! Momma taught me how! She told me to wait until I was older, but I am older so it’s okay!”

The little changeling’s horn lit up as she started the spell, the dim light slowly growing as she continued to cast. Soon, the spell cast, and Aurora’s mind was instantly filled with cries of pain, fear, and sorrow. The little princess put her hooves to her hears, falling to her belly.

Part: 3

Celestia sat on her throne. It was one she knew she had earned, growing and maintaining a kingdom of safety and harmony. Yes, there had been a few hiccups along the way, problems that she felt that she could have solved differently, altered the outcome for the better. But, the past was always the past. Those who live as long as she has know this best.

The mare let out a sigh, her issue of the day still plaguing her mind. Yes, she did not agree with her ponies methods, but the end result did end in the safety of her ponies. Does the end justify the means? Was the culling of countless worth enough to secure safety without a doubt? She had thought long and hard on this issue, spend many a night pondering her stance on the dilemma. It was one she felt that she didn't truly have an answer for. And, when she couldn't find an answer for a problem, she would find somepony who could. And that somepony should be arriving any minute now, given her need for punctuality.

The goddess of the sun looked up and gauged the time on the throne room’s clock. She did not need to, as her sense of time was practically perfect, as was needed to make sure the sun rose at the right time every day, but it was still a habit that she felt herself being drawn into.

Suddenly, the door to the throne room opened, and in trotted a familiar purple unicorn with her faithful dragon missing from her side, per her request. Celestia observed her student, inwardly chuckling at the large, bulky saddlebag full of books that hung at her side. Oh, Twilight, some things will never change.

Twilight trotted up to her mentor and bowed, giving her respects. “I came as soon as I could, Princess! So, what do you need me to do? Are we under attack? Did another ancient demon escape?!”

Celestia chuckled, waving down her student. “No, no, Twilight. Nothing of the sort,” she said in her motherly tone as she stepped down from her throne, nuzzling her student.

The purple unicorn nuzzled back, opening her saddlebag and levitating out several books, most likely deemed unrelated by the unicorn in question. “Oh, okay… Then, what is it?”

Celestia sighed, sitting next to her student. “I do not need to have you and your friends go on a quest, or anything of the sort. All I require is an answer to a question that has been on my mind for quite some time.”

Twilight cocked her head. “Oh… okay? What is the question?”

The solar princess let out another sign. “Does the end justify the means? If you accomplish a task that needs to be done, does it truly matter how you do it?”

Twilight opened her mouth, but soon shut it. The unicorn seemed to travel deep in thought. “Well, I guess I can't really answer that without proper context. I mean, wouldn't it be unique for each situation?”

The princess nodded. “Yes, this is true.” She thought for a second. “Well, how about this: is it better to eliminate a threat at the source, or simply leave it be, and hope it doesn't grow back.”

This time, the unicorn seemed more confident in her answer. “Well, I guess it would be better to get rid of the problem at the source, rather than waiting for it to come back.” She tilted her head. “What is this all about, anyways?”

Celestia bit her lip, contemplating telling her student what had transpired, and the moral dilemma that followed. Finally, she gave in. “Well, I guess you are trustworthy enough to admit this. A few months ago we launched a counterattack at the changeling hive, capturing all we could and cutting down all those who resisted. This was deemed the best course of action, as our safety is the number one priority.”

Twilight nodded, taking in the information. “So… I’m guessing you don't agree with this course of action?”

Celestia nodded. “I love my ponies more than life itself, but I also love all species that wander this land, even those who wish us harm. Changelings have been a… pest, in the past, but were never bold enough to be considered a threat. I feel that is is my fault for not being more prepared for this. I believe that something must have happened to warrant this kind of action from them.” She shook her head. “I am glad and relieved that the threat is gone, but–”

“You don't agree with the cost,” Twilight finishes, and Celestia nods in agreement.

“I have made hard decisions in the past, Twilight. Decisions with consequences that I hated, but felt they were necessary. Other times, I have run into the same issue that I face now. It never gets easier, Twilight, and this is the dilemma that all rulers will eventually face. I am not a god. I am merely a guide to help my ponies through life. I am not a dictator, and will give them the gift of free will, but sometimes that comes at great moral cost. I have tried to shield you away from my role in government, separate you from the hard decisions that I have to make as a leader, but now I think you're old enough to finally get a glimpse of what it is I do.”

Twilight smiles, eager at the prospect of learning more from her believed mentor, but frowned when said mentor’s question filled her mind. “I… I don’t know what to say.” And she truely didn’t. The invasion was still fresh in her mind as well, and soon the image of her beloved princess being beaten by… by her came to mind. She scowled. “After what they did to my friend… after what they did to my friends… after what they did to my brother. I think they deserve what they got.”

Celestia frowned. “ I was overruled by the conceal, all except me voting with that exact same mindset. Weather it was made from that mindset, or just fear, it was the decision that was made, and the one carried out. The changeling race now sits in our dungeon or in the grave…”

The purple unicorn notices the sad look that appears on her mentors face, and her anger begins to subside. “I… I cannot forgive them for what they did, or for what they tried to do. They tried to hurt ponies that I care deeply about, and I think they should be punished.” She lets out a sigh. “But… if I look past my anger… then I get what you are saying. We should have waited and thought out the issue before responding, and not let hate cloud our judgement, like I did now…”

“A decision made on hate almost always ends with regret, Twilight. Anger is a powerful thing, a force that I have seen corrupt so many. I do not think of you less for you answer, I am merely saddened that I could not convince the others on the council of this.”

Twilight looks down, her head held low. “So… what are you doing to do now?”

The princess shrugs. “Nothing. There is nothing I can do. The decision has been made, the hive has been raided, and their queen now sits in chains. There is nothing I can do, now.”

“Then… then why did you call me here? Why did you summon me here to ask my questions about something you cannot change?” The unicorn asks, clearly confused.

The solar princess chuckles, shaking her head. “I guess I just needed a second opinion to make sure that I wasn't crazy. I may be a princess, but I still need to make sure that I am leading in the right direction every once in awhile. Believe me, I am far from perfect.”

Twilight chuckles. “Well, you could have fooled me. You are a good leader, and a fair one.”

I wish that was true, Twilight. Celestia smiles and nuzzles her student. “Thank you, Twilight.” She stands up from her seat besides her student. “But, let us not dwell any further on the issue. I did tell you that I thought you were ready to start learning about politics, did I not?”

The unicorn beams, the prospect of both spending time with her mentor and learning filling her with joy. “Yes!”

Celestia chuckles, wrapping a wing around her student. “I love the enthusiasm. Now, how would you feel about joining me in court?”

“Are you an idiot?!” Soft Wing hissed at the General, her wings flared and her fangs showing. “You had her establish a hive mind?! You know that could have killed her!”

The General didn’t respond to the teachers threats, standing stock still and listening carefully. He had faced far worse then the drone that stood in front of him. He nodded. “Yes, I did. I knew the risk, and I wish I didn’t need to to have been done, but we need to have some sort of connection between us. We have changelings still trapped out there, I can hear their cried for help now, and we can now rescue them, or at least give them comfort in their final moments.” He shook his head. “I knew she could do it. She is stronger than a even a princess her age should be. I have seen her prove it again and again. I wouldn’t have done it if the reward wasn’t worth the risk.”

The teacher continued her death stare at the changeling, before sighing and lowering her stance. “Okay, I guess that makes sense.” She lowers her head. “I’m sorry, I guess it was just my teacher instincts kicking in.”

The general smiled, putting an armored hoof on her shoulder. “Do not apologize, I would have thought less of you if you didn’t react this way. And is the exact reason why I am putting you in charge of her care.”

Soft Wing’s eyes shot open wide. “Me? You want me to take care of a princess?”

“No, I want you to take care of a child. She may be a princess, but she is still young. She needs something constant right now, someone who can give her care. I am a soldier, I know death more than I know children. You were a teacher, correct?”

Soft Wing nods. “Yes, head teacher of the south wing.”

“Then that makes you more qualified to take care of a child than anyling else here. I have hardened soldiers who are currently bawling their eyes out because of what
has happened, changelings who I thought I could count no matter what. But, they have broken, given up. But you… you still remain strong. Instead of laying down and weeping for what you have lost, you stay strong enough to challenge me, a general, over the welfare of a child who isn’t even yours. If that doesn’t sound like someling I can count on to take care of child, then I don’t know what to think.”

Soft Wing opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The teacher falls to her haunches, taking a moment to contemplate the general’s words. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she says, her gaze returning to the general. “And thank you… your words mean a lot.”

He nods, motioning over to the area he had left the sleeping princess, before trotting off. Soft Wing takes a moment to compose herself, taking in all that had been said, before trotting over towards her new charge. Aurora was currently tucked into a bundle of salvaged blankets, tucked into a currently unused corner of the cavern, far away from the wounded. She lay in her cocoon of warmth, snoring slightly. The teacher let out a soft smile, laying down next to to the young princess, who immediately shuffled closer to the new source of warmth.

Soft Wing smiled, resting her next to that of her princess, closing her eyes to get some much needed sleep.

The general slowly paced around the cavern, watching and directing over the remaining changelings. There were about two dozen changelings currently in the cavern, excluding himself and the princess, with about another dozen or so still crying out through the newly established hive mind. Three dozen. Thirty three changelings remained out of a hive of three thousand. The cavern was currently divided into three sections, the first and largest being the infirmary, a second dedicated to gathering salvaged material from the hive, and the third was for sleeping and whatever you could consider recreational use.

He trotted over to the infirmary, his ancient armor softly clinking with each step. Once he approached, he scanned the pile of wounded changelings for one in particular, and sound found her tending to a changeling who was currently missing a front hoof. He trotted over to her, making sure to not disturb her work. “Nurse Scar Heart, could you spare a moment?”

The nurse mumbled something, her attention currently set on stitching the stump of what was left of the unconscious changeling below her. After a few more knots, the nurse cut the thread with her teeth, and placed her needle besides her. She turns to face the General, a somber look on her face. “Yeah, I can. What do you need?”

The general nods, motioning to the rows of changelings laid out on makeshift cots. “What’s the situation?”

She shakes her head. “Not good. Several more deaths since you last checked up on me, and I was only able to save one from the last batch the scouts brought in, the rest were too far gone...”

He nods. “At least you were able to save one.”

She shakes her head. “It’s just that I’m only one changeling, I can’t attend to everyling at once! I manage to stitch up one, only to have another to die of my inaction. It’s… it’s just…” She sighs. “I don’t have time for this, I have patients to attend too,” she says as she pushes past the general.

He watches her trott past, then shakes his head. He felt horrible for asking so much out of so few. He had only a hoof ful of changeling who were well enough to do anything, and about half of them were still working off their grief, too worked up to be of use to anyling. He respected all that had remained strong, currently doing all they could. So much had changed so fast, so much blood had been spilled, so many lives had been lost.

The hardened general shook his head once again, finding himself pushing back the situation and feeling farther and farther back each time. He knew that he could repress the memories for so long before they came flooding out like water from a broken dam. Deciding that all was going as well as it could, the general made his way towards a little area that he had claimed as his own, shrugging off his armor, and laying down onto his makeshift cot.

He knew that sleep would not come, too much was clouding his mind to let that happen. No, his goal wasn’t for sleep, but simply a rest, a few moments of peace before he had to jump back into the world. His mind wanded once again about the recent past, and this time he didn’t hold back, letting lose all of the emotions and memories that filled his mind like a cancer.

His mind wandered first to the attack. The original attack. His memories as fluid as if it had just happened…

Ghost hovered just outside of the grand shield of pink magic that surrounded his target, watching as the drones under his command rammed their bodies into the magical obstruction. He knew that his Queen’s plan would soon fall into full swing, the shield would be down soon and he would lead the charge to secure the city. He was on edge about the plan, know fully well how that they normally stood no match for the ponies and their army, but he also knew what was at stake, and used that as fuel to drive him forwards.

He watched as the bubble finally fell, and charged with the rest to encompass the city. Changeling were not as powerful as ponies on their own. They were hive creatures, relying on numbers rather than might. As he touched the ground, he watched as the Equestrian guard began their defense, surprised by the influx of unknown enemy. Changelings had lost most of their remembrance by the ponies, and planned to use that to their advantage. Ghost Step sprang into action, leading the charge and combatting the first guard he encountered. Like his name implied, the general moved like a ghost, his movements quick and almost ethereal, the guard barely charging his spell before the pointed spike of Ghost’s morphed hoof jabbed straight into his chest. The pony gargled, falling limp as the general pulled out his morphed blade.

One by one, the ponies fell by his hoof. He watched the life drain from their eyes, before turning around and attacking another one. He was not invincible, taking more than his fair share of hits from skilled or just lucky guards, but they did little to stop him. He did not hate ponies, nor did he love them. He treated them like anything he had ever fought before, like a barrier that needed to be broken down.

Ghost and the rest of the changeling army continued the assault, following the queen’s last order before she had gone dark. Slowly, the army approached the gates of Canterlot Castle. The queen had told her hive to kill as little civilians as possible, as a dead pony produced no love, no food. He took this into account, and avoided challenging anypony that was deemed a treat. Many fought back, many died, and many ran away screaming.

Suddenly, the world flashed in a blast of pink magic, the general’s body became weightless as he was thrown back by a wall of incoming magic. He tried to fight it, but was caught far too off guard, and was hit by far too much force. His vision faded to black once he felt himself finally hit the ground.

When he came too, his whole body ached. Bones felt broken beneath his chitin, and everything hurt to move. Weakly, he cast a healing spell to stop any internal bleeding, and used the rest of his stored mana to heal his bones as best as he could. Forced healing was a painful, brutal process, and very few could concentrate long enough through the pain to keep the spell going, or even stay conscious. Ghost was one of those few who could, his tolerance to pain tested again and again over the years. But, even so, it hurt enough to make him scream out in pain, feeling as his bones inside of him shift and right themselves. He kept this up until his mana reserves ran dry, and he didn’t have enough magic to keep up the spell. He lay there, panting, his body forced back together.

Eventually, the pain subsided enough that he could return to his hooves, and he did so, albeit slowly. He took a wobbly step, barely able to support himself as he trotted forwards. He had landed at the edge of the badlands that the changelings called home, the scarred earth crunching under his every step. As he walked, his scarred and torn wings chirping roughly, echoing out a call as he tried to locate anyling else who had survived.

After a while of searching, he found a few, but their was no hope for them. The impact had been too much for most, either lucky enough to die on impact, or from slowly bleeding out. He prayed for each of them, soldiers who had followed their queen into battle, under his command. His mind was still fuzzy, and his body was still injured from the impact, only healed enough for him to move freely.

After hours of wandering aimlessly through the badlands and only finding craters that contained his dead brethren, he finally gave up, deciding that it would be best to return to the hive and consult his queen about the failure. His failure.

It would take him a week to get back to the hive in his current condition, his wings too shredded to fly, and his mana supply too weak to cast any form of teleportation spell. He tried to connect to the hive mind, but found that he was unable too. This worried him, and his fear and horror only rose when he finally made it home…

The general shook, knocking himself out of his mind. He could not remember what came next, the memory still to painful to recounter. He sat up onto his hooves, leaning his back onto a nearby stone. He felt rage fill his body at the sparing memories of the slaughter he had witnessed when he finally returned to the hive, both aimed at himself for not being there to stop it, and by the ponies who had caused it.

He had cursed the pony name, originally vowing to slay the entire pony race, but his rage soon subsided, his inability to act on his anger allowing him time to think through the situation, and see it from a different point of view. If the roles had been reversed, and the ponies had been the ones to attack his hive, his home, he knew that he would have done the same, perhaps worse. After all that had happened, after everything was said and done, he truly didn’t know who to blame. He was a soldier, all he knew was how to fight, and how to kill. He wasn’t meant to think of the why, only the how. The concept never filling his mind until now.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. All the general knew for certain was that he had to stay strong and help rebuild the hive, insuring that the queen's daughter, young Aurora, could eventually have the opportunity to lead over this broken race, and bring them up from their shattered state. But, he also knew that there was one other thing that he needed to do. He knew that the ponies would have taken prisoners, and hopefully his queen would be amongst them. Though he did not blame the ponies, he still hated them. Every time he heard a cry of pain in the hive mind, his hate grew more. He owed it to all the fallen to do his best to free them. After he had helped as much as he could with the aftermath, he knew where he was going to go.

For his family and queen, he would return to Canterlot.

Part: 4

Strong groaned, turning again on his makeshift cot. He had been treated a while ago by the attending nurse Scar Heart, and had been told that his injuries were no longer life threatening, but that only fixed one of the issues. The soldier had been confined to bed rest, as part of his required treatment, and he hated it. He wanted to get back out there, saving his fellow Changelings and do whatever he could, not remain confined to a bed, unable to do anything but be a burden.

The hardened changeling sighed, once again turning on his cot. What was his use when he couldn't do anything? What was his purpose when he could hear those calling for help from the hive mind, but be unable to do anything. He felt cheated, like the nurse had taken away part of him with her order. He knew it was for the best, but it still bugged him, none the less.

But, another thought stuck in his mind, a name muttered by the mouth of a young changeling. Strong. Did he truly deserve such a name? A name that ‘symbolized’ his fight and drive? He didn't know. He wanted too deserve it, certainly, but still felt that he was unbefitting. Still, even with the moral aspect out of play, having a name seemed to mean a lot more than he could ever think before. All he had been known by all his life was by his designation that had been given to him at birth. This… this made him feel special. Different. He wasn't just another drone on the line. No, he had a title. Not general, or commander, or anything like that.

Just a name.

What a funny thing to mean so much. He inwardly laughed at the idea. It didn't make much sense to him logistically, but that didn't matter. It gave him a sense of purpose, replacing his existing one that had slowly begun to slip once he saw the first reminders of his dead brothers and sisters.

Death.

He shuttered, his smile curling down as the though was brought back to the surface of his mind. He had seen death before, either when he and his brothers fought against a dragon or manticore that threatened the hive, or anything else, for that matter. The concept was already accepted in his mind, an eventuality that he could not avoid nor outrun. But seeing all of this death, of those who days before he may had passed by in the hall, or shared a meal with, or even fought alongside, meant something different to him. It was a sadness unlike anything else, an immense loss that cut a piece out of his soul, and was taken down with the lives those who were lost. He felt like he failed, that maybe if he had fought harder, sooner, stronger, then more would be alive.

He shook his head, curling up closer into the blankets, his head sinking in deeper into the straw pillow. Emotions that he had held back whilst dealing with the situation as it came were finally getting their chance to be processed, and left him feeling drained, even more then when half of his blood lay at his hooves. Physical pain, he could manage, but emotional pain was a completely new concept.

Weather for better or worse, Strong was broken from his trance by a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to face its origin. He smiled at the site in front of him, using his fleeting strength to push himself up and onto his haunches. “Good to see you, Soft Wing,” the soldier spoke, his voice forced, but still strong.

Soft Wing smiled back. “Good to see you too, Strong.” The teacher leaned forwards, revealing the little pupa that sat on her back, and allowing said pupa go jump off and onto the ground below. The small princess smiled, gleaming up at the soldier in front of her.

“Hello, Strong~!” The pupa cheered in a sing-song tone. “Good to see you looking better! You were all covered in boo-boos earlier.”

Strong smiled, running his hoof softly through the pupa’s mane. He turned and looked back at his scarred and bandaged body, before returning his attention back to his company. “I can thank you for that, little one.”

Aurora gleams, smiling and trotting around, her attention finally distracted by, well... whatever it was, Strong couldn't notice it. He let out a light chuckle, shaking his head in a playful manner. “Thank you for bringing her here, Soft, her, well… her smile heals me more than any other medicine.”

The teacher shakes her head. “Don't thank me, thank her. She was the one who wanted to visit you. Or, she put it, her ‘boo-booed’ friend, which I guessed was you.”

He couldn't help but smile wider.

Soft chuckled herself, shaking her head. “But, that is not the only reason why I am visiting you,” she begins, turning her gaze back to him. “The general has put me in charge of Aurora’s care, and although I know I can do it myself, I wanted to know if you wanted to assist? I know she seems innocent now, and I hope it stays, but who knows if she'll wake up tomorrow and everything'll just hit her at once? Helping her if that happens will need more than just me, and I will also need someling to also help me protect her, to keep her safe.”

Strong nodded, the question not needing any though. “Yes, I will assist you. It would be my pleasure.” And it truly would be.

The teacher beamed, nodding happily. “Great! Now, get some rest. You can't take care of a child when you can't even take care of yourself, now can you?”

Strong rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah… Fine,” he mumbled as he slowly layer back down.

He didn't know if he had earned his name yet, but he did know one thing: that he would be strong for her, for Aurora.

Twilight nervously trotted down the lower caverns of Canterlot Castle. Her eyes shot fearfully from side to side, her ears upright and at attention on her head. She was not supposed to be here. Her day with the princess had been wonderful, and she had learned a lot during her her court session with the princess. But, even through her joy, one thing had still stuck out in her mind, a thought that had plagued her mind since the moment it had first appeared there, and that though was what had driven her to sneak her way undetected into the belly of Canterlot Castle. She had been here before, her mentor bringing her down her during several occasions for either spell practice or other means. But, she had warned Twilight to stay away from the dark secret that was stored here, the same secret that housed all that Equestria wished to remain hidden.

After several fear filled minutes of trotting, following a path from sheer memory that she had once read in a book, her destination came into view. Two large doors sat at the end of the darkened hallway, twin sentries guarding at either side. Twilight sucked in a breath, quietly sticking the shadowed corners of the hallway. Once she got as close as she could to the door as she dared, the purple unicorn took a deep breath, muffling out a spell. Only a flicker of light shone before her horn was surrounded in a darkened mist, the gas absorbing all light that was near. Twilight looked up, her muzzle beading sweat as she stared at the two sentries, hoping that they had not noticed the flicker. She quietly let out a breath as she saw no reaction from the two, both remaining at their post, eyes wandering as their bored minds tried to grasp something to entertain it, and she was lucky it wasn't her.

Step one was almost complete, and that was just the easy part. Twilight knew that breaking into the subdermal prison was a risk, and a challenge on its own. But, she had a plan, one crafted from years of book work and extended study of the castle and all of its defenses. One of her lessons from her teacher had been about security and defense magic, and the princess commonly used Canterlot’s own as real life examples of their capabilities. As a result, Twilight knew every single spell that went into guarding Canterlot’s most dangerous criminals, along with every way to get around them. Getting past the external guards was the easy part, the large door being more of a rouse then a defense.

The outer wall was lead line, able to deflect most forms out outside magic trying to intrude into the inside, while a hidden rune circle lay buried within the wall itself, as an extra line of defense. But, there was always a failsafe, a hidden entrance if the main doorway was ever blocked or compromised. The first one was located on the wall just outside the door, only being able to open if the correct magical signature was detected. She knew how to mimic this signature, but getting too it was proving tricky, as the guards were still at alert.

Twilight stood stock still just outside of the grasp of the torches that burned over the prison’s entrance, her mind racing to find a solution to her issue. Finally, a thought drifted into her mind, and she readies a quick spell. A soft, haunting melody soon filled the hallway, both guards standing at attention from the unknown tune. They listened, and their eyes began to get heavy. Soon, both found themselves drawn into sleeps grasp, falling to their sides and onto the ground below.

The unicorn wasted no time, dashing from the cover of darkness and into the light, her horn glowing beneath its misty camouflage as she expelled the correct signature, a hole in the wall soon appearing in the brick in front of her, and she dashed inside, the brick reforming behind her. It wouldn't be long until the guards awoken, the tune was a soft melody that was sung by Sirens from Dark Sea. Twilight had read about their song and it's sleeping effects, causing those who heard it to fall into a dream like state, awakening soon after with no recollection of what had happened. She hoped that they would raise no alarm when they did.

The cavern snakes it's way behind the main walls, leading to a hidden entrance into the middle of the prison. Twilight cast an invisibility spell, bending and refracting the light around her to hide her presence. Once the spell was cast, she activated the second panel and climbed into the prison. Once again, she had to act fast, following a precise pattern that would avoid triggering any magical pressure plates, and avoiding the revealing lights that hung above, their special glow rendering all known invisibility spells useless under direct sight. Inch by inch, stride by stride, the unicorn made it closer to her destination. More than once had she had to stand completely still to avoid being spotted by a nearby patrol, her heart racing even as their hoof steps faded into the distance. It was only a hundred or so yards from her entrance she had snuck into to her destination, but the walk could have easily been miles, each step feeling like a thousand.

Finally, after a heart pounding trek, Twilight found herself standing outside of the grand doors of the high security prisoner storage, the enchanted lock that sat on the door the last challenge Twilight had to face before she could get to where she wanted. The lock was custom made, only able to be unlocked by one of the princesses herself. Well, almost the only way. Like all things that Celestia designed, there was always a back door. The solar princess always built hidden openings or solutions, fail safes, as she called them, to open any lock that she used. This one, however, this one required something special. With a quick puff of magic, Twilight levitated a small key that she had hung around her neck before she had started her journey. It was a whim, actually, the only part of the plan that she didn't know for certain would work. She put the key up to the lock and held it there, and for a minute, nothing happened.

Twilight was about to cry, scream out that all of her hard work had been for naught, but the lock suddenly started to glow, turning as the door slowly opened. After snapping out of her stupor, Twilight dashed inside, and closed the door behind her. She caught her breath, panting slightly as she could feel her heart finally stop to relax. When felt that she could breath, Twilight dropped her invisibility shield, also dropping her light countering spell that coated her horn. Her gaze turned up, and she looked upon the plasma bars that held back but one prisoner. Twilight stepped forwards, getting as close to the bars as she dared, and bravely looked beyond.

Queen Chrysalis lay motionless on her cot, her body tightly bound and her horn nulled by the inhibitor ring that wrapped around its base. She seemed to be sleeping, her chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm. Twilight casted one more spell, the magic surging from her horn and coating every floor and wall, it's purpose to block all sound from escaping, much like the one she had used to hide her magical glow. The unicorn took a deep breath, trying to psych herself up for what she was going to do, but stopped as a voice interrupted her concentration.

“Come to gloat, have you?” Hissed a voice from within the cell.

Twilight nervously trailed her gaze up, her eyes soon locking with those of the changeling who was once sleeping soundly, but had now raised her head to gazed in her direction.

“I am a light sleeper, you know. Even with my magic limited I can still sense your presence,” she continued, rising to her hooves and gingerly trotting towards the plasma bars.

Twilight took a step back, noticing the only slightly healed marks of plasma damage that coated the Queens front side, proving that she was not afraid of pain to get closer to those beyond the bars grasp. The unicorn nervously cleared her throat, speaking up with as much confidence as she could muster. “Queen Chrysalis, I am here to interrogate you and learn of your methods of how you infiltrated our kingdom.” It was a practiced lie, one that she had gone over again and again in her head.

The queen let out a quick chuckle. “My my, seems somepony isn't supposed to be here,”
she hissed, her voice bitter-sweet.

Twilight balked. “W-what?! How did you–”

“–how did I know? Easy,” the queen began. “You lie about your true purpose here, you unease tells shows that more than just me frightens you. So, the only logical conclusion is that you snuck in here, intent on questioning me yourself.”

“B-but, how did you–”

“Again, simple,” the Queen interrupted again. “Your kind has already sent their best to gather what that can out of me, their methods far worse than anything a scared little unicorn could outmatch.” She shook her head, shuddering at the remembrance of such tactics. “Their attempts were futile, however. I will not break. I will never break.”

Twilight blinked, before shaking away her shock. “Okay… Well, then I guess I should get right to the point, then.”

“Yes, you should.”

“I want to know why,” Twilight asked.

Chrysalis sighed, shaking her head. “Before, I would have laughed at your request.” She sighs again. “But, I have little to lose now, so I feel that I shall humor you. How much do you know about my kind?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not a lot. Most recorded information is based on myths, and hold no historical accuracy.”

“Ah, as I expected, but there is always truth to every myth,” she chided. “But, I guess I shall have to elaborate. Changelings have evolved to live in the harshest of environments: a land without mana.”

“Wait, what?”

Chrysalis growled at being interrupted, staring down the unicorn. “Yessss, a land without mana. Ponies like you can simply absorb it from the air around you, while we do not have such a luxury. We must feed our mana from emotion. Love, in particular. We gather this energy and convert it into mana, fueling our magic and life force. We are… we were currently in a famine, our reserves running dangerously low. I guess the famine ended when there was noling left to feed." She sighs, shaking her head sadly. "But, I digress. I attacked to simply replenish those reserves.”

Twilight scoffed. “You could have asked, and we could have worked out a peaceful solution!”

Chrysalis laughed, letting out an evil chuckle that chilled the unicorn to the bone. “Negotiation? You really think your government would allow us to feed upon its citizens willingly, draining you of your energy to feed ours?" She let out a chuckle. "I didn't think of you that much of an idiot, Unicorn.”

Twilight went to rebuttal, but found she had no argument.

The Queen nodded. “Exactly.”

There was silence, the room filling with an awkward pause.

“Tell me more about this famine,” Twilight spoke up, curious to learn more.

“Well, it isn't a true famine. We do not feed on love as much as we recharge from it. Our need to eat is not filled from this, as we do need proper food to digest and function. No, this emotion only drives away the Hunger.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Hunger?”

“A disease that a changeling gets when they do not have enough mana, nor love to replenish it. It is a horrible, horrible fate. Those who suffer from the Hunger feel immense pain, their souls slowly eaten away as they have no magic to keep it in place.”

“What a horrible way to die…”

Chrysalis shook her head. “The Hunger cannot kill on its own. The one affected will become weak, every moment they live filled with pain… Death usually comes by their own hoof, or from one who cares and is strong enough to end their suffering.” The queen bows her head, her memory flooded with the hundreds of times she had seen this happen, and given her children this mercy.

Twilight remained silent, contemplating her words. “So… you did this for them?”

The large changeling snorts. “You ignorant fool. You truly believed that we would face a superior enemy for the single purpose of being ‘evil’? Did you think us so bold to attempt such a thing for any other reason but our survival?” She scowls. “You mock me with your question, pony. You remind me that I was bested by an idiot!”

“Hey!” Twilight scowled. “I merely protected my home!”

“And I mine!" Chrysalis screamed back. "Neither of us hold the moral high ground, here. I did what I needed for my family, and you yours. I do not blame you, Unicorn. Believe it or not, but I respect your power, and your actions.” Her gaze then shifts to that of hate, her wings flaring and her fangs gleaming. “But that does not mean that I do not wish to end you where you stand. I yearn for the day when I will be free and destroy all ponies, taking away your kind as you have done to me. I will kill everypony you care about, everypony you hold dear. I will not stop until death flames my body, too which I will welcome as I drag down as many of you as I can with me. But I will leave your princess to live, allowing her the curse of living with the feeling of regret and sorrow of having her precious family murdered right in front of her.”

Twilight takes a step back, her heart racing in her chest at the creature in front of her.

“You and your kind have taken everything from me… and I will find a way to find to return the favor, Twilight Sparkle! You killed my daughter, so I will find a way to kill you!”

The unicorn had no words as she was frozen with fear, her heart racing. Suddenly the door to the cell opened, and Twilight turned only to shrink more as she saw a very angry looking Celestia trot inside. The Alicorn locked eyes with Twilight, and she could practically feel the full rage of the sun burn down on her. She shrunk down further, and Celestia soon turned her gaze to the Queen.

“This unofficial meeting is over,” she commanded, staring down the Queen.

Chrysalis chuckled. “Well, seems someone needs to keep track of their pets better,” she hissed, smiling wickedly.

Celestia seemed unphased. “She will be punished according to the rules that she has broken, while you are already paying for yours.”

“And what about you, princess? What about the sins you have committed? How much punishment will you be suffering?”

Celestia's eye twitched. “I deal with my mistakes in my own way, Queen. A way that doesn't involve you.”

The large changeling growled. “Does the deaths you caused truly mean nothing in your mind?!”

“They do! And I mourn for all who have been denied their proper time to leave us, but I can ask you the same.”

Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “Don't play that with me. I know loss, more than you can ever comprehend! You do not have the moral high ground because you have not suffered as I have!”

“Suffering does not justify your actions!” The Alicorn shot back.

“Nor does it forbade them. I feel not guilt for what I did other than for not succeeding. If I am a monster, then so be it. I do not care which side I reside on, dark or light, I only care about my subjects, and what is best for them.” She smiles. “And you will know my pain when I eventually kill that unicorn over there.” She points to Twilight, who cowered even farther into the corner.

Celestia steps in between the two, blocking the queen's view of her student. “You will leave her out of this,” she warned, her temper flaring as her power began to surge.

“Oh? Oh?! You want me to leave her out of this?! Then how about my family? Huh?! Did you give them that option?!” Chrysalis snapped, stomping back and forth along her cell, chains rattling as her eyes remained dead set on Celestia.

“I regret the action that was taken, but it was not my decision to make.”

The Queen rolled her eyes. “Celestia, you stupid creature! How do you not know the first rule about ruling: everything's your fault.”

Celestia’s eye twitched, and she briefly held eye contact before turning in an angry huff, coaxing twilight forwards with a less than gentle hoof as the two vacated the chamber.

“You can't hide from the truth, Celestia! You are as much of a monster as I am!” Chrysalis cried out, before being muffled by the closing of the cell door.

Twilight looked up at her mentor, but shrunk away when she noticed the look of anger that still radiated from the solar Princess. It warranted no question.

“You will return to your old chambers and stay the night, Twilight. We will discuss your punishment after I raise the sun tomorrow,” Celestia said, not bothering to give her student eye contact.

Twilight nodded somberly. “Yes… Princess.”

“You have breached my trust, and used a key that I entrusted to you to completely disobey my wishes,” she shook her head. “I really did think better of you, Twilight.”

Twilight didn't respond, her gaze stuck on the floor below her...

[Eyes in the Nightmare] Part: 1-5

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Eyes in the Nightmare
By: Michael A.
Edited by: Scarheart, Typoglyphic.
Preread by: Cogwheelbrain.

Part: 1

Chrysalis took another step forwards. Her hoof crunched into the freshly fallen snow. A blanket of white surrounded her. She wasn't cold.

The landscape was completely flat, not a single hill or mountain tainted its perfection. Chrysalis looked up. The sky was a brilliant light blue, twinkling with an ethereal glow. Stars were scattered around in a chaotic, random matter. It didn't look right.

The once queen returned her gaze to the ever-spanning landscape. She saw nothing. No hoofsteps—other than her own—breached the fallen snow. Chrysalis stopped and turned. She watched as her hoof steps slowly began to reset themselves, rising until they corrected to the flat landscape.

She shivered, then returned her gaze forward. Chrysalis resumed her never ending march. She has been walking for what seemed like hours, yet… she wasn't tired. Her body didn't hurt. Her muscles didn't ache. Her mind was at ease.

A strange feeling of peace washed over the changeling. She felt safe, sheltered. She felt that the emptiness around her should be unnerving, but it wasn't. The only thing that unnerved the once queen was a stance feeling that she was being watched, observed.

Chrysalis stopped once more.

The changeling plopped down on her flank. The strangely warm snow contorted to her body, depressing around her. Chrysalis used a hoof to push away her wispy cyan mane, then reached down and scooped up some of the strange substance. It was light and fluffy, not sticky—it fell through her holed hoof with relatively little resistance. It felt like snow, but it wasn't cold.

Why wasn't it cold? the changeling pondered.

As she continued scooped and formed the ‘snow’, an unknown amount of time seemed to pass. It was strange but timed felt irrelevant to the changeling. A moment, hour, year, or even a lifetime could pass and Chrysalis felt she would be none the wiser.

Chrysalis eventually rose to her hooves, curiosity appeased. She turned to the left, then to the right. Nothing permeated her view. She could travel either way or not at all. Why move? Why stand still? What was the point when there was nowhere to go?

Hope, answered an unknown voice.

Chrysalis jumped. The changeling turned her head from side-to-side, searching for the source. The everlasting landscape held no figures to contrasted its perfection.

Do not be afraid, Chrysalis.

The voice spoke again. It was familiar to the once queen, yet she still could not identify its owner. How did she know that voice? Chrysalis opened her mouth, intent on questioning the disembodied voice, but no words could breach her mouth before the landscape began to shake.

Chrysalis took a step back, cracks beginning spread like spider webs around the once perfect landscape. The cracks began to grow into fissures. They grew wider and wider, splitting the landscape.

Panic began to fill the Changeling’s mind, overcoming the aura of peace. Chrysalis began to run. The landscape spits from a single plain to individual platforms. They rose and fell, sending snow flying with each shift. Chrysalis jumped from one platform to another, trying to escape the fracturing reality.

Chrysalis skidded to a halt at the edge of one of the platforms. The next platform she had intended to traverse had shifted too far away—the gap between it and the one she currently stood on growing too large to jump. She turned around, intent on finding another route, but it soon became apparent all other paths had gained the same predicament.

The once queen began to panic. She was trapped, cornered—nowhere to go. On a whim, Chrysalis slowly inched her way towards the edge of the platform and peered over the edge.

The abyss stared back.

Chrysalis jumped, falling on her back. She shuffled as fast as she could to the middle of the platform. Once there, the former queen pulled her hind hooves close to her chest with her forehooves. She shivered.

Do not fear, Changeling.

Chrysalis growled, pressing her hooves into her forehead. It wasn't until now that she realized that the voice had not originated from around her, but in her mind.

“Get out of my head!” she screamed, pressing harder and harder into her skull. She felt no pain.

Calm yourself, Chrysalis! The more you panic, the farther it fractures!

The changeling instantly ceased applying pressure to her temples. She returned her hooves to her sides, then stared up at the sky. Like before, it was a brilliant light blue. Unlike before, the stars were not stagnant. They shifted, turned, and practically danced in the sky in a slow waltz. There was no rhythm or rhyme to their movements that Chrysalis could spot.

“Who are you?” she asked.

I am only someone who wishes to help, Chrysalis. Please, believe my words to hold truth.

Chrysalis, in truth, did not trust the voice. She knew nothing about it. As such, she had no reason to trust.

She rose to her hooves, still staring at the stars. For some reason, Chrysalis felt that the voice belonged there. “Why should I trust you? You won’t even give me your name, let alone a face. I do not trust what I cannot see.”

...A fair point. I will honor your request and approach thee with our presence. But, we must warn, it is vital for you to remain calm. The fracture has already grown enough.

Chrysalis removed her eyes from the sky and lowered them towards the horizon. The once flat landscape had become a fractured discourse of floating platforms and shattered stone. Behind her, the once queen felt a surge of energy, followed by a brief flash of midnight blue light. She didn’t turn, at first. Instead, she closed her eyes and listened.

Four hooves crunched into the fluffy snow, one after the other. The brief sound of fluffed wings soon followed. Silence held steady after that, only breached by the addition of another steady heartbeat.

“Do not fear me, Chrysalis,” spoke the voice, this time originating from behind the changeling.

The once queen took a deep breath, then opened her eyes and turned.

The world began to shake. The floating islands began to fracture more, some even colliding with one and other. The stars began to oscillate and shift with even more chaotic patterns.

A midnight blue alicorn stood near yard away from Chrysalis. Her ethereal mane that managed to hold the image of the night sky, blowing in an invisible wind. She stumbled to keep her hooves under her as the island the pair stood on shook.

“Chrysalis, please! You must calm thyself!”

The alicorn’s words fell upon deaf ears.

Chrysalis’ stood in an offensive position, wings flared and her fangs bared. She hissed, staring death at the pony in front of her. A mixture of anger and fear overtook the changeling. She knew this pony. She knew of her deeds. She knew of her rage. She knew her name… Luna.

“Chrysalis, please!” Luna screamed, still trying to keep her balance as the world cried out in pain. “If you do not calm thyself, this realm will collapse! I will be able to escape, but not you! You will only be killing yourself!”

Again, Chrysalis did not listen. Instead, she let out another hiss, then lunged forwards at the alicorn. Slightly caught off guard, and disorientated by the shifting world, Luna did not have enough time to counter. The changeling connected with the princess, sending her flying onto her back. Once again, Luna was unable to counter as Chrysalis was upon her, teeth gnashing as she tried to get to the alicorns throat.

“Chrysalis, yield! Cease this hostility lest you want it to end you!” Luna cried out, using her front hooves to keep the rabid changeling’s fangs from piercing her throat.

The realm continued to shift, a soundless voice crying out in endless pain. Chrysalis didn’t react to it or the princess. Her focus was on her one target.

The midnight alicorn ground her teeth. In a fluid movement, Luna moved her rear hooves underneath the changeling and delivered a powerful buck. Chrysalis went flying from the force of the blow. Luna immediately rolled onto her hooves and readied herself for another assault—she wouldn’t allow her aggressor the upper hoof again.

The changeling collided with the platform and skidded to a stop. To her surprise, she felt no pain. Like her opponent, Chrysalis rose to her hooves almost immediately and returned to her offensive stance.

The alicorn and changeling stood on opposite sides of the shuttering platform, the realm-shattering around them.

“Stand down, Chrysalis! I wish only to help!” Luna called forth. “Cease this hostility before it becomes your end!”

“Liar!” Chrysalis hissed, then readied herself for another pounce.

The platform suddenly jolted as one of the floating platforms collided with it. The force of the impact sent both occupants flying.

Chrysalis attempted to steady herself with her wings with no avail—they failed to have purchased on air or other. It was as if there was nothing for her wings to grab at. The air was not. The changeling braced for impact as she collided with another platform, this one smaller than the last. Chrysalis expected her lungs to have the air crushed from her, but nothing happened. Again, she felt no pain and was soon on her hooves. Confusion was beginning to set in. What madness was this? She quickly scanned the surrounding chaotic landscape and witnessed the tail-end of her alicorn foe impacting a neighboring platform. The alicorn rose to her hooves but stumbled—a look of pain etched across her features.

Good, the changeling thought. But there were so many questions milling around her thoughts. She brushed them aside with an irritated growl, concentrating on the dangerous Lady of the Night.

Luna winced, pain shooting up her back as she stood. She soon hid her discomfort behind a neutral mask. “Please, Chrysalis, I beg of you! See reason!”

“Why must I trust you? Why must I listen to you?” Chrysalis screamed over to the princess. “We are enemies—I am a predator and you are prey.”

“You are afraid!” Luna ducked to avoid a flying piece of shattered earth. “Can’t you see this world is breaking apart?”

Chrysalis looked around. The once peaceful landscape had devolved into a practical war zone of floating islands and colliding mass. The sky above her was now a mess of discarded stars, distant supernovas, and consuming black holes. The sky’s once calming blue had morphed into a threatening red.

“You can see it, can’t you?” the alicorn continued. “The world is shattering, Chrysalis. Calm yourself before too much damage is done!”

This time, the changeling listened. Though anger and fear still filled her mind, Chrysalis sat on her flank and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. She continues the pattern, trying to calm her mind. She could feel the world begin to calm along with it… then stopped. Chrysalis opened her eyes. The entire world seemed to be frozen in time. The stars stood still. The platforms appeared to be frozen in place.

This didn’t last.

The chaos resumed moments later. The realm continued to shatter and corrupt.

“Liar!” the changeling cried, then turned to face the alicorn.

Luna, who still stood on her perch several platforms away, looked back at Chrysalis with fear-filled eyes. She closed them, took a deep breath, then opened them and looked down at the once queen. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, just loud enough for the changeling to hear. Her horn began to glow.

“What are you—aah!” Chrysalis screamed, a wave of pain filling her skull. She fell to her knees, her hooves pressed tightly against her temples. “What are you doing to me?!” Wave after wave of pure pain flooded through the changeling. At the same time, it felt as if something was being ripped away from her. She couldn’t explain it.

Like before, Chrysalis had no idea how much time passed before the pain began to subside. The changeling lay on her side in the snow, her eyes still closed, tears running down her cheek.

“Rise, Chrysalis. The pain will subside, but there is much more to be done.”

The changeling hissed at the sound of the voice. Her eyes shot open. She lunged at the princess the second she was able to locate her. Unlike before, Luna was prepared. Chrysalis felt a strong hoof connect with her jaw and send her flying to the side. Pain radiated from the affected area.

“I will, once again, ask you to yield, changeling. If I need to break you before you comply, I will.” The words were spoken not with concern or anger, but with ultimate finality.

Chrysalis growled and clenched her wounded cheek. She rose to her hooves but made no motion to attack.

“Thank you,” Luna said, her face an impassive mask.

The changeling growled again but stopped herself before she spoke. The world around the changeling had returned to how it had been. The landscape was flat, ever expanding, and covered in a thin layer of snow. Above her, the stars had returned to their previous stagnant positions and the sky had returned to it’s calming light blue.

“What did you do?” Chrysalis asked, taking a step closer to the alicorn.

“I had to disconnect you from this realm… your mind.” Luna shook her head sadly. “I had wished it would not have come to this, but you left me no choice.”

“Wait, what?!” Chrysalis cried out, her eyes going wide. “You disconnected me from my mind?!”

“In a way, yes,” Luna continued. “However, the full answer is much more complex.” She paused. “Walk with me, Chrysalis.”

Chrysalis watched as the alicorn turned and began to trot away—she stumbled to catch up. The two trotted side-by-side into the endless white.

“We are currently in your mind, Chrysalis. This realm,” Luna motioned around her with a hoof, “represents your subconscious.”

“But… why am I here?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

“You are broken, Chrysalis.” Luna turned her gaze up towards the stars. “Your mind is a fractured mess, as you have just witnessed. I have come here to fix it. To fix you.”

Chrysalis followed Luna’s gaze but did not see anything of interest. “Why do you want to fix me?” she questioned. “There is no logical reason for you wanting to do so.”

Luna nodded, then lowered her gaze to the horizon. “I once suffered from the same condition, not many moons ago. Unlike you, however, I had someone to stop me before it could grow too powerful.”

“So… you feel bad for me? I do not need your pity, pony!”

“I cannot help but feel pity for something that is pitiful, Chrysalis.”

Chrysalis growled, then side-stepped in front of Luna and blocked her path. “What do you want?!” she cried out with fear and surprise. “I do not believe that is the true answer, Pony. Noling would do this without gain.”

Luna halted and returned Chrysalis’s gaze. “I do not ask you to question, Chrysalis. I am saving you from yourself. I could end you at any moment with relative ease. If you need any proof, let it be that you still breathe.”

The changeling continued her hardened stare, but stepped aside and let Luna trot past.

“I put you through a test to see if you were worth saving.” Luna continued onward. “You passed. I have seen your struggles. I have seen your pain. I have seen the journey that the Nightmare has created.”

“How did you…?”

“You were dying, Chrysalis,” the alicorn interrupted. “A weak mind is easy to breach.”

Chrysalis hissed but bit back her aggression. She tried to comprehend what was going on, but there were too many holes that needed to be filled. “How are you going to fix me? What are you trying to do?”

Luna paused for a moment and contemplated an explanation. “When in combat,” she began, “you do not simply build a wall and hope that the enemy will go away. Yes, it will hold it back, but for how long? The only way to assure victory is to attack them at the source. This is what we will do.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Chrysalis questioned.

“That is enough for now, Chrysalis. There is much that needs to be done. Like any enemy, this nightmare won’t go away without a fight.”

Luna’s horn lit up in her respective aura. A small bolt of magic traveled up its length then shot forward. It traveled into the white snow, eventually coming to a stop and exploding. It pulsed outwards, then imploded. A small, pulsating portal appeared in its wake.

“What… what is that?” Chrysalis asked as she turned to face Luna.

“The portal to your Nightmare, Chrysalis,” Luna began, motioning to the rift with a hoof. “This will lead us to where the nightmare is hiding. It is strong. I can feel its strength.” Luna smiled at Chrysalis. It wasn’t friendly, nor was it insincere. It was… respecting. “It will attempt to break you, but you must not let it. It will attempt to corrupt you, but you must remain pure. Alone, one cannot defeat a nightmare. But with help, there is a chance.” The alicorn motioned towards the portal once more, this time resuming her trot towards it. “Come, Chrysalis. Your nightmare awaits.”

The changeling watched as the alicorn stepped into the rift, her body sucked into the vortex. As Chrysalis edged forward, a familiar emotion washed over her: fear. She was used to the emotion, tasting it on almost everypony around her—even on her own changelings—but rarely did she feel it radiate from herself. She was a queen, she wasn’t supposed to feel fear!

The changeling stopped in her tracks, her body mere inches away from the magical rift.

She was no queen. Not anymore. No, that title had been stripped of her by her hive—by her children. Chrysalis shook her head, banishing the thoughts from her mind. With a deep breath, the changeling took the final step forward, the rift instantly sucking her forward.

O O

The changeling blinked. She had teleported before—she knew the feeling—but this wasn’t it. No, it was more like stepping through a door from one room to another.

Chrysalis blinked again.

Her eyes trailed up and she scanned the immediate area. She had, indeed, been teleported, as the once endless fields of white had been replaced by an endless void around her. She looked up, down, then in all other directions. There was… nothing. There was no ground. There was no sky. There was no horizon. There was… nothing. Without a frame of reference, the changeling couldn’t even register her own orientation. Was she standing? Was she upside down? Was she falling? It didn’t feel like she was but, at the same time, her hooves did not grip any tangible ground.

Had this been a trick? The changeling could see no sign of the alicorn of the night, nor the nightmare that Luna had claimed she would meet. Had it been a lie? A dirty trick? A final nail of humiliation into the coffin of her own carving?

Chrysalis growled.

It had been, and she had fallen for it. She had shown weakness and her enemy had exploited it! She felt weak. She knew she was weak. Had she been so desperate that she had believed the obvious falsehood of her foe?

Chrysalis hissed.

A trick. A dirty trick! Anger rose within the changeling, pushing away her growing fear. How could she have fallen for it? How could she have—

“Aaaaah!”

The changeling ceased her mental tirade as a pained scream cried out of the void. It came from all directions—she was unable to locate the direction of the source. She knew the source, though, and it cast doubt on her previous assumption.

A smoking, midnight blue alicorn fell from the void, skidding to a stop at Chrysalis’ hooves. The changeling looked down with shocked eyes at the seemingly broken form of pony who had, only moments ago, been the center of her rage. Luna’s fur was burned. Her right wing was twisted in an awkward position that left no question that it was broken. Her eyes were closed and her face was contorted in pain. She let out raspy, half-full breaths. From experience, Chrysalis believe this to be caused by a punctured lung.

The changeling tore her eyes away from the injured princess, then scanned the void around her. Like the name had implied, her eyes spotted nothing. Chrysalis turned back towards the barely breathing alicorn. Was this another trick? If so, how? The changeling observed the pain on the alicorn to be genuine. She could taste it. She tasted pain, fear, sadness, a slight hint of anger and… relief?

Against her better judgment, Chrysalis stepped over to the alicorn and knelt down next to her. Should she treat her wounds? The changeling shook her head slightly. No, she needed to know more before she aided her enemy.

“What did this to you?”

Luna gasped as soon as the final words had left the changeling’s mouth. Her eyes shot open. Chrysalis couldn’t help but take a fearful step back. The alicorn slowly rose to her hooves, letting out muffled cried of pain with every movement. Once she stood tall, the alicorn turned to face Chrysalis, her eyes holding fear. “Run,” was the only word that she spoke, then collapsed once again.

Chrysalis, eyes wide in fear, did not question the request. As fast as she could, the changeling turned from the alicorn and began to sprint away. She didn’t stop even as her muscles began to burn and her lungs felt like they were going to burst. As she ran, a new emotion washed over the changeling’s tongue: pride. She did not know where it came from, but the normally sweet tasting emotion had adopted a sickly tart taste.

If you run, I will catch you. If you hide, I will find you. If you fight, I will defeat you. If you die… I will become you.

This was a new voice, but one that could not be more familiar with. Her own. Chrysalis began to run faster.

Do you not miss me, Chrysalis? Have you forgotten what I brought you? I made you strong when you were weak. I allowed you to take what you wanted. I made you better!

The changeling tripped as one of her legs gave out. She fell to the floor, her face scraping against an unseeable floor. Chrysalis immediately tried to rise back to her hooves, but her tired muscles failed to comply.

Why do you run? Have you forgotten what we accomplished, together? It appears that the blue one tried to hide them from me… how foolish of her to try.

A sudden ringing began to fill the changelings skull. She instantly pressed her hooves into her temples, but there was no effect. She screamed out in pain.

Do not worry, Chrysalis. The pain will be over soon. Once it is, and you remember, we can be together again…

The ringing grew louder in Chrysalis’ ears. She screamed again. Memories began to flood back into the changeling’s skull. Memories of her past sins. Memories of her doing horrible things. Memories that she wished had remained hidden.

You remember now, don’t you?

The ringing stopped. The memories faded. Chrysalis lay on her side on the intangible floor, her hooves tightly pressed into her chest.

Yes, you do. I can feel it!Why are you sad? Don’t you remember how much power we had! Doesn’t that feel good?

Chrysalis didn’t respond. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

Do not cry! Do… do not cry! You are weak! You are nothing! I made you who you were and you ruined it! Get up and face me, Chrysalis! Get up, you pathetic waste of space!

The void flashed. Chrysalis keep her eyes closed.

“Get up, you piece of filth!”

The changeling wheezed, something hard connect with her stomach. She skidded back from the force of the blow. Once she stopped, Chrysalis opened her eyes. The view of a dark black hoof filled her vision, followed by another wave of pain.

“Get up!”

Her face began to pulse. The taste of copper began to build in her mouth. Once again, Chrysalis tried to open her eyes, this time successful. Slowly, she rose to her hooves.

“Look at me in the eye!”

Chrysalis winced. Hesitantly, the changeling complied.

“Miss me?”

In front of her, with a wide, toothed grin, stood an entity that shared her image. It’s eyes burned with an evil fire; wispy mane gently flowing as if repealed by a static charge. It stood with an aura of pride, unfearful. Unlike the real chrysalis, this entity dripped with a coating of seemingly fresh blood.

“I've missed you,” the faux changeling spoke, slowly circling her prey. “It's been lonely here, all by myself. But, you have returned, and we can be together, once more.”

The true changeling shuddered, her previously held confidence shattered. She did not speak, she did not move. She was frozen in place with her eyes locked on her false counterpart.

The faux Chrysalis stopped circling and looked down at her prey. “Get up,” it commanded.

Hesitantly, Chrysalis complied.

“You are just as submissive as I remember… good.” The dark entity gave a toothed smile. “Now, come, it is time for us to—”

A dark shadow shot across the void and tackled the faux changeling. A moment later, a panting, anger filled alicorn stood over Chrysalis’ false counterpart, horn alight with radiating power.

The nightmare looked up at the princess and smiled. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” it began, then disappeared into a dark mist.

Luna, horn still glowing, stood up and scanned the void. “Show yourself, Nightmare!” she cried out in rage. “Face me!”

Chrysalis watched the enraged alicorn with wide eyes.

Kill…

A voice called to the Changeling's mind.

Kill her…

Chrysalis shook her head. She didn't want too.

Kill her, and you will be free.

The urge grew. It tugged at her mind. Her will to resist was fleeting…

The changeling stepped forward. Her horn began to glow. Luna still continued to scan the void, unaware of the approaching danger.

Kill.

Another step.

Kill!

Her horn glowed brighter.

Kill!!!

Chrysalis paused momentarily when a sickly tart taste befell her tongue.

Kill her!

A powerful bolt of magic shot from the Changeling's horn. There was a scream of pain.

Luna’s head whipped around toward the sound of the scream. She looked on with pride at the false counterpart standing in front of the once queen, chest smoking.

“What have you done?!” the nightmare screamed.

Chrysalis stood her ground on shaking hooves. Her face held fear, but she forced a glare of confidence. “I am not your slave…” she began, then took a shaking step closer. “You do not control me.”

The nightmare took a step back in surprise. “W-what?!”

“I am not your slave!” Chrysalis screamed out once again. “You will never control me ever again!” She took another step forwards, her horn beginning to glow. “Get out of my head!” A wave of sickly green magic pulsed from the changeling’s horn, pushing the nightmare back.

The wave momentarily stunned the faux Chrysalis. Once it recovered, it growled in anger. “You are mine! You belong to me! You will submit!” It stomped a hoof.

“Not anymore,” Chrysalis replied. “Never again.”

The nightmare shook. It let out an anger-filled scream. The void shook with her anger. “I will break you! I will make you beg forgiveness! I will destroy you!” It’s horn ignited with a dark green glow, a large ball of black plasma forming at the end. “Die!” The ball of energy shot forwards.

Chrysalis close her eyes. She braced for the pain. None came. She cracked open an eye. A dark, shimmering shield of midnight-blue magic stood smoking in front of her.

“I will not let you harm her anymore, Nightmare!” Chrysalis turned to see Luna standing next to her, her face contorted in protective rage. “She is no longer your puppet.”

The nightmare growled. Chrysalis tasted fear. “You are not supposed to be here, pony. Leave my realm or suffer her fate.”

Luna let down the shield. “I would rather die than submit to a Nightmare.”

The faux Chrysalis seethed with anger. It’s mane shook with uncontrollable energy. It’s eyes burned like twin infernos. It opened its mouth, then closed it. The nightmare stomped a hoof.

“You are ruining everything!” it screamed. The void began to shake, much like before. Dark lightning began to strike from somewhere within the abyss. “You will submit. You both will!” It’s horn began to glow. The faux Chrysalis began to rise. “I will break you! You think you are strong, but you are weak. You are both weak! Let’s see how strong you are when I bring your nightmare’s to life!”

Luna and Chrysalis shielded their eyes as the Nightmare exploded in a wave of dark magic. Their bodies began to tingle. The world shook in horrible pain.

Part: 2

Chrysalis shifted on the hard, cold stone beneath her. The pain slowly receded. The smell of damp decay filled her nose. The changeling pulled herself to her feet. In the dim, directionless light, Chrysalis could see piles of small black shapes pressed against the smooth, water-hewn walls. She had to be underground. The layout of the dark black walls seemed familiar, somehow.

"Where are we?" Chrysalis said aloud, then waited for Luna to answer.

None came.

Chrysalis turned, trying to find the mare. “Luna?” she called in her search. It didn’t take her long to realize that she was alone, the midnight blue alicorn nowhere to be seen. Where had she gone? Had she created this? Was this her doing?

The changeling shook her head. No, this was the Nightmare’s doing. Perhaps it had separated her and Luna to weaken them? She was unsure. Knowledge of the dream realm fell up her missing companion. Chrysalis subconsciously licked the air.

Her eyes went wide.

The changeling began to frantically look around the cave in a new light. What she had tasted had the missing piece. She now knew where she was.

"No… n-no," Chrysalis stuttered, stepping away from the walls with eyes filled with fear. “I-I can’t be here…”

On frantic hooves, Chrysalis bolted toward the other side of the cavern. She shot into a tunnel. There hadn't been a tunnel here. Not before. She focused on the floor ahead. She knew what the small black shapes were, now. She dared to look at their little black bodies. This wasn't real. This was a nightmare, created by the Nightmare.

This reality did not stop the pain.

Chrysalis would happily face any number of horrors, so long as she didn't need to look into the blank, hollow eyes of these children. Her hoof landed on something hard, and it skidded out from under her. She stumbled, then slid onto the cold stone beneath her.

The changeling trembled as she attempted to rise to her hooves. She remembered the sensation of love flowing into her. The simplest, purest love she'd ever tasted. She could still taste it. She felt sick.

After a few more seconds of fumbling, Chrysalis managed to return to her hooves. Her head quickly shot around as she attempted to regain her bearing. She had to run. She had to get out of her. She had to escape before…

Something scuffled behind her. It was gentle, like the patter of little hooves.

Chrysalis slammed closed her eyes. Don't look! Frozen in place, the changeling heard the sound get closer. Soon, she felt something small brush up against on of her hind hooves. Don't look! For a reason beyond her control, Chrysalis opened her eyes. She resisted as her head slowly turned.

"Weevil?" Chrysalis whispered softly, confused.

The grub crawled toward her, its shriveled body raking against the floor. Its eyes were but empty holes. She knew this nymph. He had been her first child…

Her first surviving child.

"I didn't do this," Chrysalis rasped, taking a step back. "Not to him. Not you. I saved you."

The grub let out a piteous cry. It looked up at her with hungry eyes. She knew that hunger. It shuffled closer.

Chrysalis took a shaky breath, and dropped to her haunches. Her child needed her. The grub crawled closer. The once queen lifted it up to her in her magic. She held the phantom of Weevil—the Weevil she remembered, in her mind. He was so young, so precious. He had grown up to become a strong drone. She would always remember him… Chrysalis fell into a trance.

The grub sank its tiny teeth into her neck.

Three children had survived her deadly feast, all those years ago. Two of them, Naiad and Cicadia, died only days later.

Her strength ebbed as the grub drank its fill, taking back what she had stolen all those years ago.

She gave her love freely. Only Weevil had survived. She had spent a lifetime ensuring the he was fed. Happy. He grew strong. Chrysalis began to sway on her hooves.

Weevil continued to drink. His body grew, his fangs lengthened.

She would always protect Weevil...

Chrysalis toppled backward, her skull cracking against the stone. The grub followed her to the ground, his fangs never leaving her throat. She was unable to react, paralyzed. All she could do was feel her child feed on her life. The room seemed to grow darker. His legs and neck lengthened.

A deep growl resonated from within the void. The world began to shake and shutter, cracks forming in the walls around her.

Chrysalis felt control return.

Without a second thought, the changeling twisted her body and bucked the false image of her first child free from her. She felt the fangs tear free from her skin. She stumbled to her hooves, and backed up against the nearest way, distancing herself as far as possible from the creature that had once held been her son.

On the other side of the cavern, the nymph began to twitch. It grew, pulsing with stolen love. Chrysalis watched with horror as Weevil continued to metamorphose. Soon, it slowly twisted and rose to its new height. A monster now stared back at the once queen.

Weevil's small body had grown to rival his mother’s. His once bald head was now covered in thick, dark green hair. It pulsed with unnatural energy. His once small maw had grown, now as menacing as a dragon’s. Rows of razor sharp teeth gleamed back at her. His wings suddenly grew in with a sickening crack, breaking through his newly grown carapace. On his back grew large, threatening black spikes.

It gave her a toothed smile, blood pouring from her mouth.

Chrysalis pressed herself as much into the wall as she could, her eyes wide in fear. “Y-you are not Weevil! G-get back, monster!”

The creature licked her lips, catching the last drops of falling blood. It opened its maw wide, a blood-curdling roar excepting its lips. The dark walls around the creature continued to crack and shift. Besides it, the piles of shriveled corpses shuddered and convulsed. One by one, they twisted free and fell to the floor. Soon, dozens crawled all around creature, all looking at Chrysalis with soulless eyes.

Chrysalis felt a sharp bite on one hind leg. She bucked, dislodging the grub's devilish teeth. Snapping out of her fear-fueled paralysis, Chrysalis shot forward, wings extending as she took to the air. The creature reared, clubbing her with her hooves. She ducked her head rolled, her back slamming hard into the stone ground. Chrysalis quickly rolled forward and onto her hooves.

She ran.

Dark stone flew by as she ran. The air whipped at her face, stinging her eyes and stealing her breath. She could just barely hear the clattering of changeling grubs behind her. There must be hundreds of them. She heard the continued roar from the creature that had metamorphosed from her first born. It was getting closer.

Chrysalis tripped. She crashed to the ground, her legs folding under her weight. She was quick to recover, and soon resumed her retreat. But, she had lost valuable ground. The creature was close. The ‘grubs’ were close.

She rounded a corner and kept galloping.

She couldn’t run forever. Chrysalis felt her legs sting, her lungs burn. She panted, using the last of her fear-fueled energy to power her forward. The walls continued to shudder and crack, darkness seeping out from within. Chrysalis could pay it no mind, but she did feel that something was wrong.

Suddenly, the floor disappeared beneath Chrysalis’ hooves, and she fell.

Chrysalis screamed.

O O

Luna took a tentative step forward. A second prior, she had been standing next to Chrysalis, the Nightmare before them. Now, she was alone. The endless void had changed in the blink of an eye: walls of crafted obsidian brick stood on either side of her. They were worn and chipped, clearly having suffered the ravages of age. She took a deep breath. Stagnant air filled her lungs.

The cracked obsidian walls shaped into a long cavern, the end of which Luna could not see. On the walls hung ethereal torches, each casting a dark blue light and evenly spaced along both walls. Some of the brackets were cracked and chipped, several in the distance appeared to have broken entirely—the torch they once held now on the floor. Along with the torches, chipped stone statues of rearing thestrals, fully clad in battle armor, lay inset into the walls.

A chill permeated the air. A soft breeze from an unknown source alternated directions within the hallway. It was if the darkness beyond was breathing. The torches danced with the flow.

Luna took another step forward, her eyes darting side-to-side as she observed the new environment. It hadn’t taken her long to realize she was alone. The Nightmare had done something. What, she was currently unable to discern. Luna was the Mare of Dreams, the realm of the mind was her domain. The Nightmare had messed with her realm in a way that even she could not understand. This was disconcerting. She should have control here... it seems the Nightmare has changed the rules.

She paused.

Luna had not known why or when she had begun to advance down the hallway. It made more sense, to her, to remain in place and gain an understanding of what she faced. Why hadn’t she? It was now she felt the tug. It was weak, but noticeable, like a small string that was gently guiding her forward.

“Peculiar...” she muttered aloud.

Her horn lit up in midnight-blue aura. With her magic, the Princess of the Night began to poke at the dreamscape. Unlike reality, a dream was highly malleable, and only required a small push to alter. This one did not. As Luna tried to alter it, the dreamscape pushed back. It fought her, stubbornly refusing her advances. Her horn grew dark.

How was this possible? How had the Nightmare been able to create, and protect, a dreamscape that even she could not breach? A dark thought loomed over the alicorns head. She tried to dismiss it, to prove it false, but still held true… the Nightmare had begun to feed on her.

It made sense now, as much as she wish it hadn’t. The Nightmare had begun to feed on her. As a result, it was able to overpower her. It held control. How had it? Luna had initiated the link with Chrysalis. She had created the world they now stood in. How had the Nightmare manage to usurpe her control? Luna growled, the prospect of being controlled by another Nightmare filling her with both fear and rage.

Luna snapped from her internal thoughts by a deep growl. She rounded on her hind hooves to face the other side of the endless hallway. An abyss of darkness stared back at her.

“Show yourself, Nightmare!” Luna called out into the darkness. She was scared, but she couldn't show it. She wouldn’t show it. “I escaped the hold of one of your brothers before—you will fare no different!”

Her words echoed down the hallway. Once they subsided, no sound filled the air other than the gentle crackle of nearby torches.

The alicorn stood at the ready. She lowered on her front hooves, her horn pointing dead center into the void. One wing was flared at full extent, while the other was tightly held at her side. It was still broken—her attempts to repair it magically held no effect.

An unknown about of time passed. It could have been as long as an hour or as short as a single minute. Luna stood none the wiser. She waited a little bit longer, the darkness showed no signs of life. Slowly, Luna stood from her battle stance, but her eyes remained in place.

“Luna…”

The alicorn reared, once again twisting to face the opposite side of the hallway. “Who’s there?!” Luna demanded. “State thy name!”

“We miss you, Luna… why won't you play with us, anymore?”

The voice as soft but high, spoken with a distinctive echo. The voice held familiarity in the princess’ mind, but she was unable to remember it's connection.

“Don't you remember us? We were your children, Luna. We’re all your children.”

Luna balked. The voice rang deeper within her, hitting something deep down. The final words it had spoken were not of one origin, but of a choir of similar voices. They belong to children, she now realized. But… she did not have children. Like her sister, Luna was unable to be impregnated by a mortal being. As such, she was cursed to lay forever barren. She shook her head.

“Nay! We have no child, nor more than one. We lay barren and are unable to conceive. Thy statement holds false. Relinquish the truth!”

Luna was getting anxious, now. Her speech and slipped back into the pattern of old. She didn't have the focus to correct it.

A cacophony of giggles shot down the hallway.

“Silly, mommy. Of course we are not your born children. You took us from ours. You took all of us. Don't you love us, Luna? Why have you forgotten us?”

Luna wracked her brain for understanding. Was this a trick of the Nightmare? A false memory? No, it couldn't been. Deep down, she knew this to be real. She recognized it. She recognized them.

“W-who are thee?” Luna shifted nervously on her hooves, no losing confidence. “Why doth thou claim to be our kin? What trickery is this? Speak! Reveal thy true self!”

“Time to play!”

The soft sound of pattering hoofsteps began to echo from within the darkness. Luna stood at attention, waiting for whatever they belonged too to show their faces.

“We’ve missed you, mommy!”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her unease retreating. Out of the darkness had emerged a single unicorn filly. She appeared to be only slightly older than Element of Honesty’s little sister, standing only a head or so taller.

“Who are you, child? Why do you claim to be my own?” Luna questioned, taking a step towards the child.

The void began to shake.

Luna stumbled as she tried to keep her balance. The walls began to shift and shake, crack and pulse. Something was wrong, she could feel it. When the quake subsided, Luna looked forward and gasped, taking a step back. The child had changed. The filly’s skin was rotten and dried, flaking in several places. Where it’s right eye should have been was a black socket filled with a white, glowing ember. The other eye was dried and crusted, the eyelid fusing to it.

Luna took a step back, retreating from the creature. “W-what are you?!”

“I am your child, Luna. Do you not remember me? I was one of your Children of the Night.”

That was it. That’s all it took. Luna suddenly remembered why this child appeared so familiar: she had been one of the orphans she had taken.

“Y-you shouldn’t be dead! I saved you. You were one of the colony!”

The abomination giggled, it’s once childish voice now gargled as if spoken through wet mud.

“Silly, mommy… We’re all dead!”

More children, all in the same decomposed vision as this one, slowly walked out of the darkness and into view. A quick count revealed two dozen, but more continued to emerge.

“While mommy was sent away, there was nopony to take care of us. We called for you, but you didn’t come. We prayed to you, but you never showed yourself… Why did you abandon us, mommy? Why did you let us die?”

Luna could feel warmth run down her muzzle. She realized that she was crying. The princess continued to retreat, but the now army of abominations continued to advance, closing the gap.

“N-no. This can’t! Lies! All lies!” Luna sputtered, choking out sobs.

“Why would we lie, mommy?”

Luna turned and began to run. She could hear the creatures run after her. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t hold truth. This was a lie, a trick! She wanted to believe it, but she couldn’t.

“I’m sorry!” Luna cried out.

“Come play with us, mommy! Come play!”

The princess’ lungs began to burn. She gasped for each breath. Her legs screamed at her to stop, but ignored their cries.

Luna suddenly felt her hoof catch on something, causing her to fall face first into the cracked obsidian floor. She fumbled back onto her hooves as fast as she could, but not fast enough.

The creatures had gained on her.

One after the other, the creatures began to leap forward and bite the princess. Their teeth were sharp, digging deep into her skin. Some managed to get onto her back, pulling at her mane and digging their jagged teeth into both her good and bad wing.

Luna screamed.

The pain was immense. The princess tried to push the creatures off of her, but they latched on tight. She hesitated at the thought, but her horn glowed and Luna let out a powerful burst of magic sending all of the creatures flying. Some smashed into the walls or ceiling, bones breaking and blood spewing out upon contact. Some managed to land on a neighboring torch, setting their dried skin ablaze.

Luna looked on in horror.

Despite their broken bones or even severed limbs, the creatures were unfazed and resumed their advance.

“We don’t like it when you play with us like this…”

More children began to emerge from the darkness, practically a wall of disfigured children all advancing towards the princess. Luna screamed, still crying out in pain. Her body bled, chunks of skin were missing from where they had bitten. Despite this, the alicorn continued her retreat, limping.

“Go away!” The princess’ horn lit up. Bolts of sparking plasma shot from her horn, striking each of the closest abominations. This slowed their advance, but did not stop it. In a last desperate attempt, Luna sent out another wave of magic, pushing back their advance. She then turned and began to run full speed into the darkness of the hallway. Her right-front hoof stung with each step, having been bitten the most. Her coat around the area was stained a crimson red.

Her eyes burned, her body ached. As she fled, Luna questioned what would come next. Yes, she was ahead of the creatures, but how long would it be until she grew too tired to run? The hallway expanded forever in front of her, showing no hope of salvation.

Luna stumbled, the void shaking once more. She turned around and noticed that the herd of creatures were almost upon her. Despite the tremors, she turned to resume her retreat, but something stopped her.

“No… No!”

Luna banged on an invisible wall that prevented her from advancing. After several failed attempts to break the invisible barrier, she quickly turned and ignited her horn. It glowed, a midnight-blue shield of light spanned the entirety of the cavern.

The wall of abominations smacked into the shield. They kicked and scratched, trying to break through. It wouldn’t last long.

Luna began to panic. She was trapped, her shield not long from breaking. She looked to the pulsating walls. They continued to fracture.

She realized what was wrong.

The alicorn’s horn began to glow. She reached out for the dream realm. This time, it didn’t push back. As Luna felt around more, a daunting realization dawned on her. It appeared the Nightmare wasn’t as competent with dreams as she had believed. She felt two separate realms being projected at once, far too much for Chrysalis’ weakened body to handle. The changelings mind was currently screaming out in pain, fracturing and breaking under the strain.

Chrysalis’ mind was dying.

She attempted to correct the fracturing realm, but it was decaying faster then she could handle. There was nothing Luna could do. If she destroyed her realm or the one that Chrysalis was currently in, one of them would go with it. If she did nothing, then they both would die.

Luna turned toward her magical shield, the likes of which was only moments from breaking. The answer seemed obvious, but she was hesitant to take it. She had worked so hard to heal the fallen queen, she didn’t want it all to go to waste. The only other option was… her eyes went wide. She quickly used her magic and began to merge the two realms together. The shield fractured, a wave of the deformed creatures flooding towards her. Luna closed her eyes.

She began to fall…

Part: 3

Luna’s eyes slowly cracked open. After a few blinks, the alicorn slowly rose from the ground and onto her flank.

She blinked again.

Luna knew where she was. Rather, she knew where she appeared to be. Before her lay the familiar main street of Canterlot, Celestia Way. What uneased her was the condition of said street. The once well maintained asphalt was cracked, having the visage of years of neglect. The once grand mansions that bordered this road seemed to have suffered the same fate. Gilded towers were now rusted and decrepit. Paint chipped and fell freely like fresh-fallen slow. Windows were boarded up with rotten wood. And an eerie fog permeated the entire atmosphere.

Slowly, Luna rose to her hooves.

“What trickery is this, Nightmare? Why doth thou show us the image of our new home? What symbolism is this?! Tell us!”

Nothing answered her call.

In truth, Luna was unaware if this was her doing or the Nightmare’s. She had never merged dream realms before. As such, she had no idea of what would happen.

Luna ground her teeth. Though the fear and sadness still filled her, anger slowly began to overtake them. She was being toyed with, that much was certain. What other explanation was there? The Nightmare had managed to implant itself within her... she would not let this one win.

Luna limped forward.

She regarded the decrepit houses as she made her way down the ruined road. True to her first observation, each house shone with the decay of time and neglect. The fog seemed to dynamically shift as she walked, only allowing her a short distance of clear sight. The mare didn’t know where she was going. In truth, she once again felt the draw to move forward rather than remain in place. She believe this to be the Nightmare’s doing.

The road eventually ended and split off into two different directions. One lead towards the financial district, while the other towards the mid-class residential district.

“Which direction?” Luna mused aloud. Granted, she believed it didn't matter which side the chose. The Nightmare held control, now. She shuddered at the reality.

Her mental debate lead her toward the financial district. The decay followed, like everywhere else.

The cracked asphalt eventually lead the princess to her predicted location. The financial district took up a fairly large chunk of the city. Micro-skyscrapers towered as high as the building code would allow. Shops of all different styles and needs could be located on the bottom floors of most of these mini-giants, while the higher ones were reserved for district offices and the like.

The buildings each mirrored the previous area’s level of decay. Paint was chipped. The walls were cracked. The doors and windows were boarded up. And, in some cases, entire floors had fallen in on themselves.

Luna stopped when she approached the small plaza that sat in the center of the district. This small area had been built for street vendors. Their carts now lay abandoned. Some on their sides, others just… empty.

The alicorn trotted over to the nearest, seemingly fully intact cart. She briefly looked over the cart. It appeared to have once sold some sort of jewelry, by the neckless racks and other display cases that were now empty.

Well, almost empty.

Luna squinted as she peered into one of the fogged-up display cases. Something shiny glinted from within. Curiosity piqued, she went to open the display case, but found it locked. She growled with mind annoyance. Luna briefly toyed with the idea for looking for a key, then realized that, for all intensive purposes, she was alone.

Luna trotted back over towards one of the other toppled carts. With a hard stomp with her good hoof, one of the main supports that connected the cart’s roof to the body snapped and broke free. The crack echoed. Luna picked up the now free piece of splintered wood with her magic and trotted back to the original cart.

“Okay, Nightmare, let's see what it is you have left me…” Luna mumbled, then smashed the glass with the chunk of wood. Some shifting of broken glass later, the Princess of the Night raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing in there…?”

A pristinely polished necklace hung suspended in Luna’s magical glow. It was made of a fine dark metal, with a brilliant piece of moonstone carved into a star that hung as a pendent. Luna knew this necklace. It had been given to her as a present from her sister soon after her return. It had been her ‘apology.’

Luna had not accepted this gift.

She had been animate against it. Her sister had nothing to apologize for, the blame all lay on her head. The backlash had ended in a more then heated argument, but the two had ended it on good terms… or, so Luna had believed.

The mare shook her head and went to drop the pendant. She couldn't. For some reason, Luna felt a draw to it. She couldn't explanation it. Hesitantly, the mare slide the pendant around her neck. The draw was appeased.

“What meaning does this hold?” the mare questioned, looking down at the once rejected gift. “What is thy game, Nightmare?”

A shiver ran up her spike—she felt as if she was being watched. Luna’s head shot up as she quickly scanned over her surroundings. Nothing had changed. The plaza sat just as it had been when she arrived. The feeling didn't go away.

“Who is there?” Luna asked. “We know you are here. Show thyself, lest thee be a coward!”

A loud growl resonated from within the fog… the same one she had heard before.

Luna took a fighting stance. Her head scanned the fog. Her body hurt. She was tired. But she wouldn't back down. This Nightmare challenged her. She would not let it win.

A loud, wet gurgle cried out from the fog. Luna turned toward the source. A dark, pony-like outline stood out from within the fog. It did not move.

“Who are you?” Luna asked. “Speak!”

Another wet gurgle cried out, the outline reared in kind. Luna tensed—the outline began to near. It breached the fog. Luna tensed even more. The outline formed a creature the princess had known well: a thestral. But it was wrong. A thestral was a bat-pony; essentially a pegasus with bat-like wings, fangs, acute sight and pointed ears. Though the creature held the same basic outline, much was wrong. Its eyes sewn shut by a thick black twine. It's wings, tattered and ripped, lay limp at its sides. Scars covered its entire body. The only thing unmutilated appeared to be its ears, which stood unmolested. It was clad in a deformed black armor—scarred and dented.

The creature stopped its advance several yards from the princess. It turned its head from side to side, clicking slightly.

Luna regarded the creature with concern and sympathy. It looked to be in pain. She had employed a nearly exclusive guard of these creatures… to see on in this state pained her. She opened her mouth. As soon as she began to speak, the creature let out another gurgled roar. The deformed thestral reared on its hind hooves, then charged at the princess.

Caught off guard by the speed and accuracy of the blinded creature, Luna was unable to defend as it tackled her side, sending her flying. She collided with one of the still standing carts, smashing it under her weight. Pain flared up as glass and bits of splintered wood imbedded themselves into her back. She screamed.

The creature must have heard her, as it was soon upon her. The creature lowered its head as it connected with the fallen princess, lifting it violently and sending her flying. The princess once again collided with the ground. She slid to a stop as she bumped into one of the nearby boarded up storefronts.

Luna bit her lip until she tasted copper as she quickly rolled onto her hooves. She wiped her head around until she caught sight of the creature. It still stood over the cart she had crushed with her body, its head shifting side to side as it clicked softly.

It was clear that this creature ‘saw’ through sound, Luna deduced, as its other sense had been cruelly removed. She could use this to her advantage.

Luna took a step forward, only to hiss as the foreign material imbedded in her back shifted. The creature turned toward her, now, and soon charged. The mare threw herself out of the way—the creature continued on despite this and smashed into the wall.

Luna ran as fast as she could. Her body hurt with more pain then she had ever felt before. Her body felt weak. It begged her for rest. She denied this request, pushing past it in the hope of survival.

The mare stopped when she reached the other end of the plaza. She turned. The creature stumbled around where it had collided with decayed storefront. It appeared even more hurt. She could use this tactic further—the creature’s impaired senses making it easy for her to dodge. But, she also didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. Her body was drained—she was running on borrowed energy. Through nearly crippled pain, her body call upon her for rest. Willpower would only last for so much longer.

Luna used her horn to spark a simple test spell. It crackled as it failed to cast. This meant that magic would not be an option. Her options were highly limited…

The creature shook its head as it finally recovered. It lifted its head and clicked. It was searching for her.

No plan breached the princess’ mind. She was out of ideas. She’s have to risk her first idea. With luck, her body would last longer than the creature’s.

“Here,” Luna screamed, “over here!”

The creature wiped its head towards her and charged. Like before, Luna jumped out of the way at the last second. The creature smacked face-first into the accompanying wall with a sickly crunch!

Luna landed on her feet, but wobbled and fell. Her hooves felt heavy; her mind a fog. The radiating pain had begun to fade, but so did her grip on consciousness. As Luna struggled to stay awake, the creature recovered. Luna tried to crawl away, but her fleeting strength only allowed her to go so far.

Luna felt something pierce and grip one of her hind hooves. She turned her had as much as she could to see her hind hoof caught in the creature’s maw. She soon felt herself being dragged.

She tried to fight, but she had no more strength—her body could give no more. The last thing she saw before everything went black was fog as it engulfed her…

O O

Chrysalis cracked open her eyes. To her surprise, she lay on her side. Slowly, the changeling rose to her hooves. She peered around cautiously. Moments before, she had been falling (or, she believed it to be only moments before). Now, she stood in the middle of a strange street, fog surrounding her. The walls of the cave were replaced by the familiar remains of a seemingly long since abandoned city. The creatures that had chased her appeared to be gone. Chrysalis licked at the air--she tasted no nearby emotion. She was alone.

“Where am I?” the changeling questioned aloud, taking a worried step forward. “Pony, are you there?”

Nothing responded from the omnipresent fog. Chrysalis shuttered, then continued her advance. Though the changeling felt familiar to the landscape, she had no idea where she was. More to the point, she had no idea where she was going. This worried the changeling. Was she still in the dream? Had she been teleported? Too many questions remained unanswered. Eventually, Chrysalis decided that the best course of actions was, in fact, action. Worrying would get her nowhere. Her hooves echoing throughout the ever-present fog. What was with the fog? Did it serve a purpose? If there was, it was lost of her.

The changeling paused her advance, then turned and approached one of the decrepit houses that bordered the road. Like the others, this one was boarded up and effectively blocked off. Well, to most. Chrysalis’ horn lit up with her sickly green magic. The boards that barred her entrance soon glew in the same aura. With a mighty tug, Chrysalis began to rip the boards off, one-by-one, which soon lay in a crude pile besides the door.

The changeling smiled to herself, then slowly pressed past the door. It hissed as the rusted hinges protested, but still gave. The changeling stepped inside and ignited her horn, using a simple illumination spell. A chilled wind blew out from deep within the building, freezing Chrysalis’ very soul.

Get out…

Chrysalis balked, taking a step back. She was suddenly chilled to the bone, a feeling of unease washing over her. Something wasn’t right. Something didn’t want her to enter. Reluctantly, the changeling complied to the ghostly wish, stepping out and slamming the door behind her. The cold retreated, along with the unease. Something definitely wasn’t right…

With another shiver, the changeling turned away from the door and back onto the main road. She briefly mused over that… experience. Why hadn't she just pushed forward? Yes, it was unsettling, but she had faced worse… right? Chrysalis shook her head. Best not to dwell on this—there was more pressing matters to attend too.

Like a vagabond, the changeling wandered the abandoned road—no map, no direction. She was guided by the cracked asphalt, hoping that it would lead her to something that would bring light to her confusing predicament.

Chrysalis paused when she hit an intersection. Two different paths stood before her—one continuing forward, and the other taking her right. She peered briefly down both directions, but was unable to see much past through the fog.

“Which way?” the changeling mused aloud. “Does it matter?”

Chrysalis absentmindedly licked at the air. She paused. A familiar taste washed over her tongue—a mixture of regret and shame. She took another taste.

“Pony?”

The Changeling's tongue flicked out of her mouth like a snake. She tracked the taste. it wafted from the road directly before her. With little hesitation, Chrysalis followed the familiar taste.

The buildings that bordered the road seemed to grow as she advanced. The changeling believed this to signal a change in focus. To what, she was yet to know.

Chrysalis suddenly went stiff. A new taste suddenly graced her lips: fear and anger. It was strong. This meant that the pony was not alone. The changeling lowered into an offensive stance before resuming her hunt. She knew not if this new entity was friend or foe; in fact, she even questioned the motives of the one she did know.

The changeling paused once more as her ears perked up. A new sound breached the silence. Chrysalis focused. It sounded to her like something heavy was being dragged. She scanned the immediate area around her.

The outline of… something began to breach the fog. Chrysalis stood stock still, observing the approaching outline with a worried expression. From her position, it appeared that the outline was close to dwarfing her in size.

The fog soon cleared enough for her gain usable detail. The outline was some sort of dark pony, clad dented in black armor. It back its way toward her direction, apparently dragging something behind it.

Against her better judgement, then changeling called out. “You there!”

The armor-clad pony halted. Its head shot up, then wiped in the direction of changeling. Chrysalis gasped. It's eyes were sewn shut by some kind of black wire. The changeling took a tentative step back.

“What happened to you?” she asked, not knowing what else to say.

The pony gurgled in response, then clicked as it shook its head side-to-side violently.

Chrysalis was about to question further when the blinded pony let out a gut-reaching roar. It stomped it hoof a few times, then charged in her direction. Chrysalis acted fast, diving out of the way just in time. She rolled back onto her hooves and immediately faced the direction the creature had charged. It had apparently slowed and now stood with its head flicking side to side.

The Changeling's mind went blank as she stared angrily at the creature. Her horn lit up in her sickly green aura as she cast a bolt of magically-condensed energy at the creature. To her disappointment, the magical strike bounced harmlessly off the creature’s armor like like on a mirror. It’s armor was enchanted, she noted.

This assault did not go unnoticed by the creature. It roared in anger, then turned and charged the changeling once more.

Chrysalis was ready, this time, matching the creature’s charge. She pounced once she was close enough, landing on the creature’s armored back. It roared out in anger and immediately began attempting to buck his unwanted passenger free. Chrysalis, for her part, gripped the creature tightly with her hooves, using the creature’s unresponsive wings as a hold. She used this vantage point to assess the creature. More specifically, where the joints in the armor were located: shoulder, fetlock, neck, hip, knee. The creature roared once more, this time stopping it’s futile attempts.

Chrysalis jumped clear before the creature attempted to roll, creating distance between her and the creature who stood it’s ground, head shaking.

The creature was heavily armored; even it’s joints protected by a seemingly thick leather covering beneath. That was her normal plan for taking out this type of opponent: cripple the joints and go in for the kill. In this situation, it seemed almost impossible. This left her with only one more option.

Chrysalis let out a sharp whistle, figuring that this creature located through sound given its impaired sigh. The creature reacted immediately, turning in her direction and changing once more. This time, the changeling did not ready herself to pounce. Instead, she quickly side-stepped, allowed the creature to pass, then dove back underneath it. Chrysalis quickly sunk her fangs into the creature’s unarmored underbelly, then continued on to rip apart the unarmored flesh.

The creature roared in pain. Black blood poured freely from the ripped apart flesh, coating the changeling’s muzzle. She did not care. The creature began to stumble, falling onto its stomach moments later. Chrysalis dove out the way just in time, then pounced once again. This time, she aimed for her prize. The changeling’s fangs hit true as she dug them into the creature’s soft neck. It took her only moments to rip out its throat, black blood spewing from the area like a sickening guizer. The creature let out a gurgled scream, then twitched, and finally, went still.

“No one bests a queen,” Chrysalis panted out, winded by the experience.

The changeling used a free hoof to wipe of as much of the strange blood from her muzzle and face the best she could. It was a fruitless effort. The black blood had somehow soaked into her fur, making it almost impossible to remove without a good bath. Chrysalis scoffed at her luck, then a thought popped into her head: where was the pony?

Chrysalis licked at the air—she tasted the telltale emotional signature of her companion. Had she sat back and watched as the she had fought that creature? Chrysalis snarled. It would be like a pony to do such: let others take care of their problems. She wanted to rant further, but another thought popped into her head. Hadn't that creature been dragging something?

Anger was soon replaced with dread. Chrysalis’ head shot side to side as she searched for any sighs of what the creature had been carrying. ‘Though, she was pretty sure she knew the answer already, and her fears were confirmed when she spotted a motionless midnight blue mass in the fog.

“No…”

The changeling galloped toward her fallen companion. Once she was at her side, Chrysalis’s fear was doubled at the state of the alicorn. She lay motionless on her side, eyes closed in peaceful slumber. She bled from almost everywhere; her back showed signs of splinters and glass embedded within, bite marks of missing flesh lay patched all around the alicorn’s body, and one of her front hooves was swollen and bruised—all the telltale sighs of a break.

For some reason, Chrysalis felt… regret, like this was her fault. Why did she feel that way? She owed the pony nothing. If anything, the pony owed her. More to the point, they were enemies! She was prey, and Chrysalis was the predator… right? The changeling shook her head, then placed it up against the fallen alicorns chest.

Thump… thump.

Heartbeats. Good. This meant she was still alive! She would need medical attention, but Chrysalis lacked the supplies for such. Igniting her horn, she tried to cast a simple healing spell on the alicorn. There appeared to be no effect. Now frustrated, Chrysalis tried again and again with no result.

“Have you cursed yourself just to vex me?” she muttered angrily under her breath. “Stupid pony…”

Several failed casts later, Chrysalis gave up. She looked down sadly at the alicorn, the same phantom regret washing over her. She ground her teeth, then perked up at another thought. Perhaps the gargantuan creature had supplies? If he was smart, he would.

The changeling turned and ran toward where she had remembered vanquishing the creature, but found nothing. There was no body.

“How…?”

She searched further away, wondering if she had just mistaken the location. A fruitless search later, she returned to the same spot, confused and slightly unnerved. Had it gotten up and walked away? Or had something come and take it away? Either option seemed highly unlikely, especially given the fact that she would have noticed either.

“This is not good…” she muttered, then began her trip back toward her fallen companion, only to slip on something and fall straight onto her muzzle. A grumble later, Chrysalis was back on her hooves, turning to check out what had caused her to slip.

A gift from the sun will warm the way,

Bring back the wounded--sister of the day.

Back to where you were first denied,

Let the fear become your guide.

The words were written on the asphalt in the same dark blood that covered her fur. Apparently she had slipped on the puddle whoever had written it had used as an inkwell.

“What trickery is this?” Chrysalis mused, then turned angrily towards the fog. “Who are you? Who did this?!”

The fog replied with a deep, bellowing growl. Chrysalis's eyes shrank to pinpricks. Hesitantly, she licked at the air. She was overwhelmed with taste the creature she had slain.

Three more of the creatures breached the fog’s haze. Each of them appeared to be almost the same as the original with only small differences in scars and fur tone. Though the changeling had already killed one; three, at once, would be impossible, resulting in her death.

Chrysalis stood stock still, hoping that the creatures wouldn't hear her. They advanced slowly, but didn't seem to be drawn directly to her location. The changeling looked over to her fallen companion. She bit her lip. She ignited her horn and gently wrapped the alicorn in her magical aura. As carefully and quietly as she could, the changeling lifted the alicorn and began to levitate her over to her.

Chrysalis’ eyes were locked on the three creatures, studying their movements. She feared they would hear her, leaving her vulnerable as she tried to save her wounded companion. She questioned her motives for doing such, but brushed it aside--she could deal with that later.

The changeling gently laid her companion on her back, using her magic as added support. The three creatures appeared to be oblivious to her presence, which she was thankful for. On stealthy hooves, Chrysalis began to back away from the trio, her charge safely secured on her back. She made it about twenty or so steps before she paused, eyes wide. A new creature breached the fog, one entirely different then the trio of mutant ponies. It was relatively tall, though still smaller than the others. It’s body was completely covered by a large cloak, preventing the changeling from getting a proper view. Two glowing red eyes shone from within the figures dark hood.

Mentally, Chrysalis prayed that this new creature was friendly, though she knew the odds of such was slim. Her and the new creature locked gazes. Chrysalis felt a shiver go up her spine.

The figure suddenly lifted what appeared to be a shrouded hoof and pointed it at the changeling. Chrysalis was confused, at first, until she saw the three abominations snap their heads towards her and begin a slow advance.

Chrysalis didn't have to be warned twice.

The changeling turned and began to sprint full speed forward, using her magic to keep her cargo from falling off. The creatures reacted as soon and they heard her heavy hoofsteps, chasing after her.

Chrysalis panted as her hooves trotted as fast as she could make them. Her muscles began to burn from strain, her lungs gasping for much needed oxygen.

She twisted and turned back they way she had come, following the only path she knew for certain it would lead. The monsters weren't far behind; Chrysalis hearing the clinking of their armor and stomp of their hoofsteps. Normally, she would have no problem outrunning these creatures. But, with the added weight of her near-dead companion, they were gaining at an alarming rate. If they reached her before she could find an adequate place to hide or make a last stand, the changeling had no idea what she would do.

Chrysalis made her way past the ‘T’ intersection, heading strait and back the way she came. Her legs burned, threatening to give out, but she pushed passed the discomfort and continued forward. It was now an important fact breached the changeling’s mind: this was a dead-end. When she had woken up there not that long ago, she had been forced to travel the way she had because there was no other alternative. She was running herself into a corner.

Cursing under her breath, Chrysalis pushed forward despite this, hoping to think of a plan before it was too late. Her mind was blank. The changeling turned her head back and glanced at the creatures, still on her tail, then at her charge who weighed her down. She could drop her, leaving the alicorn as a distraction. It would make her faster and draw their attention away from her. It was a sound plan, but Chrysalis couldn’t make herself do it. Why?

The changeling was snapped from her thoughts as she neared the dead end, but that wasn’t what had broached her attention. No, that belonged to the still free door that she had pried open not long ago. She remembered the feeling she had gotten when she tried to enter before, but she’d prefer that over death by the creatures that followed her.

Chrysalis dove into the doorway on her approach, a wave of sheer cold overwhelming her. She froze in place, unable to move. Her muscles failed to respond; her teeth chattering as she shivered in place. She had screwed up. She had screwed up big time!

Chrysalis went to scream, but stopped as a bright flash blinded her vision. Almost immediately afterwards, the cold dispersed as her body warmed at an alarming rate. After only a few seconds, the changeling could feel feeling return to her hooves and body. She rose upright, the alicorn sliding free from her back, then turned towards the door. She expected to see the creatures almost upon her, or crash through the somehow closed door moments later.

Nothing of the sort happened.

Chrysalis licked the air. She tasted nothing but her wounded compilation. It appeared that the creatures had refused to follow her, the reason unknown. Chrysalis watched the door for a few more minutes, still on edge, then slowly looked away and back at her charge.

Luna lay still on the floor, her body still limp and eyes closed. The changeling trotted closer the the fallen alicorn, then pressed her ear to her chest. She sighed in relief when she heard faint, but still present, heartbeats.

Chrysalis nudged the mare on her back once more, then took a look around. The room appeared to be some sort of lobby, most likely for a hotel. It was decayed and rotten; paint chipping, furniture rotten and splayed around in a seemingly random manner, a thick layer of dust coating everywhere. Directly across from the door she had entered was a large desk. Besides it lay two stairways, one heading up while the other heading down.

The changeling glanced back at her charge. She thought back to how cumbersome she had been with her, and how she had almost lead to her death.

“Let's find a safe place where I can dump you, pony,” Chrysalis muttered, then headed for the stairs.

She ascended one floor, but found each door on said floor to be locked. This pattern continued for next two, but the final floor breached some success. At the far end of the fourth floor hallway, a single door lay unlocked, and unbared.
Pushing past, Chrysalis slid the alicorn from her back. She stretched her sore back, smiling as she felt several satisfied cracks. She eventually paused her stretch when she noticed something strange in the room: a single pristine first aid kit. It contrasted the rest of the room greatly, as it looked as if it had been just made.

The changeling trotted up to the kit and opened it with her magic. To her supprise, it was fully stocked. Chrysalis felt a smile spread across her lips as she closed the lid and floated it over to her in conscience charge. Sitting on her flank, the changeling began to administer the required medical attention. She just wished her efforts would not be in vain...

Part: 4

Chrysalis finished bandaging her unwanted companion. Being on the receiving end of many an injury, she had gained extensive experience in the art of basic medicine. The once queen looked down at the battered pony, and smiled at her work. All the wounds had been addressed, the wing and been reset and splinted, and she had also taken great care in making sure that the bandages were tight enough to hold, but loose enough to not create massive discomfort when the pony would, hopefully, awaken.

Chrysalis frowned.

That was a worrisome fact. The pony had been out cold for longer than Chrysalis would have liked, and that didn’t even could how long she could have been out prior to the changeling finding her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be out for much longer…

Chrysalis shook her head, then scowled. She took her eyes off the pony. Why did she care? Why did it matter if she awoke? Thus far, the pony had only brought her pain and confusion. Actually, this was all the ponies fault!

Chrysalis turned back towards Luna, her eyes filled with rage. She stepped over toward the unconscious pony, then placed a hoof over her throat. It would be so easy. Just a quick stomp, crushing the windpipe, and she would be dead. It would be so easy…

The changeling’s hoof reared up, ready to strike. She commanded her hoof to stomp down. Nothing happened. Chrysalis growled, trying to complete the deed once more, but couldn’t. Something held her back. Something wouldn’t allow her to go through with it. Some part of her didn’t want to kill the cause of all her pain.

Chrysalis stared at the helpless alicorn. Her chest rose and fell softly. The anger subside, replaced with guilt. With much reluctance, Chrysalis returned her hoof to the ground, but her eyes remained on Luna. Her hesitance had brought a thought to mind; a fact she had been ignorant off moments before. Luna had been in her pace. Standing over her, able to end it all. Instead, she had given her a second chance...

Chrysalis shook her head once more, turning away from the helpless pony. The changeling trotted away toward the door. She exited, closing the door behind her with her magic. She never looked back.

I need to get out of here, the changeling thought. She tried to push all thoughts of her head that related to the alicorn out of her head. She needed to now focus on the big picture: escaping this strange and cursed place. From what she had seen thus far, this place seemed to have a path layed out for her that it forced her to take. In theory, all she had to do was wander, and this omnipresent guide would show (or force) her to where it wanted her to go.

With luck, it would lead her to an exit.

Chrysalis made her way down the hallway too the stairs. She made it down the first flight before the loud sound of clanking metal screamed in her ears. Chrysalis instantly turned around, her eyes going wide as she stared at a chainlink fence that now separated her from the upper levels. She quickly ran up to it and briefly tried to tear it down with her magic. After a few minutes of unyielded result, she sighed, giving up.

“Have it your way,” Chrysalis mumbled, then turned around continued down the stairs.

She passed down three stories before she returned to the building’s ‘lobby’. Nothing had changed, much to her delight. She licked the air a few time. She tasted nothing.

Chrysalis trotted forward, passing the revolving doors and into the area beyond. The outside was what she expected, warn and decayed. The fog had remained, clouding her view. The changeling trotted onto the cracked asphalt and into the road proper.

“Which way to go?” Chrysalis asked her unseen guide. It was only a matter of time before it showed her, anyways.

A low growl resonated from within the fog.

Chrysalis’ eyes went wide. Her body instinctively fell into a defensive stance. Her head shot from side-to-side, much like that of an alert sentry. From her experience in the past, the growl signaled her of approaching danger.

Eventually, Chrysalis spotted an outline in the fog. It was larger than the creature she had slain before. She stood her ground. The outline soon breached the fog, a shrouded creature taking it’s place. It’s entire body was covered in a concealing cloak that masked its true form. Two red, glowing eyes stared into her own from beneath its hood.

A small, wicked smile breached the changeling’s lips.

O O

Life slowly returned as Luna cracked open her eyes. Everything was blurry. She blinked. Detail started to return. Her body was numb. Her head hurt with a slight headache, but that was the worst of it.

Luna blinked some more.

Her brain slowly began to register the world around her; she could see a floor and a nearby wall. They were both rotten. She could smell mold and decay. The rest of her senses returned.

Luna licked her lips. Her mouth was dry. She was thirsty. So thirsty. She perked up an ear. It was quiet.

For a few minutes, the princess continued to lay on the decayed floor as her body awoken from its forced—and much needed—slumber. Once everything appeared to be working properly, Luna gently rolled from her side to her stomach. Her muscles ached. They were still tired. With a quick burst of energy, the princess rose from the ground to her hooves. She stumbled to remain upright, but she was soon to stable herself.

Luna tested a few steps. The floor creaked beneath her. She took another step, then noticed something odd. She lifted one of her hooves and inspected the well dressed bandage. Now curious, Luna turned her head back and noticed the most of the rest of her body was covered in similar dressings. A bandage was carefully and deliberately wrapped around her stomach and back, her wings held beneath. From the feeling of her injured wing, it appeared to have been reset and carefully splinted.

Who had done this? She pondered. The mare sat down on her flank and carefully inspected each of her dressings. They had been done professionally or, at least, by someone who knew what they were doing.

It was now that Luna’s mind finally returned to full working order. She remembered being dragged away by the blinded Thestral into the fog, but nothing after. Had there been an after? Had she woken up prior, fought off the creature, then addressed her wounds and passed out once more? It sounded highly unlikely, but she could think of no other explanation.

Luna stood back up and observed the room. Like her original observation, it was old and decrepit. The drywall was cracked and chipped, missing in some places to reveal the rotten wooden beams that lay behind. The paint that still clung to the walls appeared to be a faded purple, though it's original shade was almost impossible to discern. The floor was in just as bad shape. It consisted of rotten wood that depressed and groaned under her hooves. She worried she would soon fall through. The backside of two boarded up windows lay on one side of the room, small bits of fog seeping in through the cracks. On the opposite side of the wall was a crooked wooden door that hung on one hinge. The handle fared the same fate, only one screw holding it in place. Other than this, there wasn't a single piece of furniture in the room. In fact, there was nothing but her.

Where was she? Luna asked herself. The gap in her memory worried her. She quickly pushed it away and decided to proceed as if nothing had happened. It couldn't be denied, but her best bet was to continue forward.

On shaken hooves, Luna trotted forward. Her body ached, but the pain was manageable. She neared the door, but paused. What would await her on the other side? Luna eyed the door wearily. Slowly, and quietly, she pressed her ear up against the rotten door. She heard nothing on the other side. Though this quelled her fear, unease still filled her. Everything felt wrong…

Luna pressed past the door, which squeaked on it’s only remaining hinge. Beyond lay a hallway, rotten doors much like the one she had just opened on each side. At the end of this hallway sat two flights of stairs, one heading up while the other heading down. The flight to the upper layers appeared to be blocked by some sort of debris, leaving her only with the option to descend.

The wounded alicorn began to trot down the hallway. She tried to open several of the rotten doors during her advance, but found them all locked (or, possibly, barred) from behind. The mare peered cautiously down the flight of stairs once she arrived. They appeared to be empty. She slowly began to descend. Each step creaked under her weight.

She made her way down to the next floor, but stopped when she noticed the next flight down was barred and blocked by a crudely placed chain link fence. Luna regarded the slightly rusted obstacle and noticed a single lock that held it in place. Several hard bucks with her good leg revealed that it wouldn't be going anywhere soon. Luna grunted. She’d have to find a key or another way down.

The mare turned around. This floor had the same layout as the previous: a single hallway with doors to what she assumed rooms bordering on each side. At the end of the hallways was a boarded up window with metal rebar bolted to the inside. Luna carefully made her way down the hallway, checking the doors as she passed. To her disappointment, the first three were locked, but the third held some result. The door slowly creaked inward as there was nothing to hold it back.

Luna trotted inside, the door closing behind her. It was dark, too dark to spot anything. Luna bit her lip, worried she had made a mistake. She reached a hoof back, trying to feel for the door handle. It wasn't there. She felt along the wall, but couldn't grasp anything that even resembled a door. Actually, it felt like stone, not drywall like she had expected. Now panicked, Luna went to cast an illumination spell, but jumped as her vision was suddenly blinded by a flash of light.

When her vision returned, Luna middle of empty stone room. The walls were made of a strange, cracked obsidian brick. Four torches hung on oxidized steel brackets, one on each of the walls of the empty room. Their flames burned with an odd, ethereal blue glow. They danced as they softly crackled, casting strange shadows that waltzed around the room.

The mare regarded the room around her, trying to make sense of the exitless chamber. Panic began to sit in, but Luna held it at bay. She took a deep breath—the air was stale. Subconsciously, Luna ruffled her wings gently under her bandages, the close environment putting her on edge. Her long horn suddenly lit up in a dark-blue light as she casted a simple spell. The radiating aura shot from her horn in the form of a small ball of magically-condensed energy. It impacted the neighboring wall, only to be seemingly absorbed by the dark brick.

The spell was supposed to cast a small niter flame onto the wall. This was disconcerting. Luna trotted slowly up to the wall she had cast her spell against and closely examined the area of impact. It appeared to be completely untouched.

“Most curious,” the Luna muttered, then lifted a hoof and placed it against the area in question.

The room immediately began to shake.

The mare stumbled as the walls began to shake and bend. Dust fell freely from the ceiling and fell to the floor like snow. Spiderweb cracks began to snake their way across the walls, originating from the figure’s point of contact.

Soon, the quake subsided, and the Luna was able to regain her balance. She observed the change in the room, tilting her head at the strangely familiar pattern the cracks had created. They formed a small circle with a rearing alicorn in the center, behind which sat an intricately carved crescent moon.

How did she know this symbol?

Luna took a step forward and regarded the newly created mark. Once again, she pressed her hoof up against the wall. This time, the room did not shake. Instead, the symbol depressed upon her touch, a strange dark liquid slowly seeping out soon after. A large circular hole no sat in its wake. It was large enough for her hoof to fit.

Hesitantly, the Luna went to place her hoof into the new opening, but paused when her hoof first struck the strange liquid. She pulled back her hoof now coated in the strange liquid. It took mere moments for her to realize what it was.

“Blood?”

Why was it blood? It must have been fresh, as it had yet to clot and oxidize. This unnerved the princess, but did not stop her from pressing her hoof back into the hole. She felt the blood soak into her coat as she pressed her hoof further. It was warm. Luna stopped when she felt something within. A lever, perhaps? The alicorn pulled back on the lever, then pulled her hoof out as fast as possible.

The wall shook in her wake, a crack forming down the center. Soon, the wall began to part, spreading from the newly created crack. The wall soon stopped, a new opening large enough for the figure to trot through in its stead. The figure peered beyond, an endless abyss staring back at her. Hesitantly, Luna trotted through the opening and into the abyss beyond.

To the her surprise, a single, large pedestal stood several meters in front of her. A light from an unknown, unseen source shone down from the heavens, lighting up the pedestal in a blinking white light. On top of the pedestal lay a large tarp of blackened cloth. It covered a large lump.

Luna slowly approached the pedestal, her curiosity piquing. She soon stood before it, and slowly reached for the tarp with a hoof. She was only able to give it a small tug before something clattered out from beneath. The Luna looked down.

A tan hoof hung limp from beneath the tarp, something clutched tightly in it’s riggored grasp. Hesitantly, Luna reached forward with her magic and ripped the item from the cold hoof. One it was free, she floated it up to her face and regarded it. It was a key. Was this the key to the fence?

Luna didn't get much time to ponder as she suddenly heard a strange, shuttered breath. She took a step back, her curiosity fleeting as it was replaced by fear. She got only a few steps away before she noticed the sheet slowly rising and falling, as if the pony underneath had begun to breath again.

The tarp shifted again, then slowly began to fall as the pony underneath rose to a seated position. The tarp fell away completely, and Luna gasped. A tan pony with a shaved mane stared back at her with black, dead eyes. This was not what unnerved her. This pony had been gutted, it’s stomach was spain out, ribs showing.

The creature took garbled breaths. How, Luna was not sure. It had no lungs. It slowly rose to its hooves, blood pouring from its open chest. A knife of pure magic soon appeared next to it. The corpse smiled.

Luna took a step back, her brain in full panic as the creature began to advance. Part of her wanted to run, but her hooves would not obey. Her throat ran dry.

The creature took raspy breaths, as if trying to speak. The smile never left it’s face, though it’s eyes portrayed a different emotion: pain. Luna found her eyes locked with the creatures. They practically screamed at her for… release.

They called for an end.

Luna shook her head, now snapping out of her stupor. She quickly looked behind her and saw that she was approaching the door she had entered. With another quick glance back at the advancing creature, Luna bolted towards the wooden door.

She could hear the creature do the same.

Her hoof made contact with the door, and she fumbled with the door handle. It was locked. Acting on instinct, she instantly rolled sideways and away from the door. Like she had expected, the knife of magic the creature had been holding impaled the door right where Luna had been standing. It disappeared, then reappeared besides the smiling abomination.

Luna scrambled to her hooves and bolted away from the creature. Her body hurt from the roll, her injuries finally making themselves known. She could hear the creature not far behind her, gaining fast. Her mind reeled for a plan. Something!

Unable to think of a reasonable plan, Luna skidded to a stop and turned, her horn aglow. A sword of pure magic appeared beside her, ready to strike. The creature continued its advance despite this, still smiling.

Right as the creature got close enough to strike, Luna struck with her own sword first, lobbing it with all her strength at the creature's head.

It connected.

Luna watched with mild horror as the creature’s body fell limp; it’s head rolled free from it’s body. The severed body part stopped rolling right at the princess’ hooves, it’s wicked smile falling into a peaceful one.

The alicorn shuddered, then turned away. She heard a loud click! and subsequent thump! as the door to the chamber opened. The magic sword at Luna’s side dissipated as she limped toward the exit.

O O

Luna stared at the chained lock, then back at the key that was held tightly in her magical grasp. With a held breath, the princess inserted the key and turned it, letting out her breath when she heard the click! of the lock. She slide removed the now unlocked lock and pushed the gate aside. It hissed in protest, groaning as if in pain. Soon, the way was clear, and Luna tentatively began to descend.

Many thoughts ran through the alicorn’s head; some about her predicament, some about the creature she had just slain, and even some about herself in general. This… place had encoded many an emotion she would have been happy not to have felt. They reminded her of a darker time—a time that, too, she wished to forget…

Luna made her way down the stairs, passing several floors along the way. Part of the alicorn wanted to explore the, see what they held, but she suppressed the urge. Several floors later, Luna reached want she believed to be the ground floor, as the stairs had finally ran out.While the previous floors had the same layout as the one she had awoken on, this one was vastly different. After a brief examination, she determined it to be a lobby, of sorts.

Was she in a hotel? Apartment complex?

A beaten and worn desk lay next to the flight of stairs, behind which sat a large cabinet of many small compartments—all of which open and empty. Mold-ridden, once-velvet chairs lay toppled sporadically around the rest of the lobby, splain about as if those who had once sat in them had left in a hurry. Tattered paintings holding indescribable sights hung on barely sturdy hooks, while a faded and decayed possibly-red carpet lay underhoof.

Luna advanced into the lobby on cautious hooves. She feared the worse. This realm had held many surprises and dangers that she was unable to understand. She knew merging the two realms would have unforeseen results, but never would she have predicted this, which only filled her with more unease. The rules of the dream-realm had changed. Rules which she had made. She didn't know how to control it. She was powerless, lost, alone...

Luna shuddered.

A fearful thought, but one that seemed more and more a reality each passing second, quickly passed through her brain. As Luna approached the revolving doors of the lobby…

A rush of creaking wood, smashing metal, and shuffling metal cried out.

Luna jumped. Fear gripped at her very soul as the alicorn suddenly whipped around an angry tornado. She scanned the lobby for any possible threat—her horn glowing with stored magic.

Minutes went by with the alicorn on high alert. An uneasy fact soon became prevalent: nothing was amiss.

A feeling of unease washed over Luna, her magic still charged and read. With a voice that masked her fear, Luna called out: “Who is there?!”

Nothing responded.

Luna’s horn finally went dark. She was still on edge, but whatever had made the noise seemed to be gone, now.

Luna shook her head.

“This place is just messing with me,” she muttered, then turned back toward the door.

Luna stopped once more.

Taped to the revolving doors was a crudely written note on an old, stained piece of paper. It had not been there prior. Luna reached forward with her magic and retrieved the note.

Forget something…? it read.

Luna read over the paper again, she turned back to face the room. Someone, or something, was trying to tell her something… She scanned over the room like a hawk looking for prey. Something was different, she had determined, but what? The mare trotted forward on delicate hooves, trying to be as silent as possible. Why? Not even she was sure. Instinct? Possibly…

Luna trotted back over to the desk, figuring it was the best place to start, and looked it over in more detail. It was ruined and old, but some paper still lay on its worn surface, one parchment, in particular, actually legible:

Public notice:

Found something in the lobby this morning. I took the liberty of leaving it in Box: 13. Please claim—looks important. Thanks you.

~ C.

Luna cocked her head to the side, reading over the note once again. Who was C? Luna shook her head and picked up the parchment into her magic. The paper looked new and in far better condition than the rest of the lobby—it looked freshly written. The alicorn returned the paper to the desk, then turned around to face the wall of containers. Lost to her earlier observation, each of the boxes were labeled… but, curiously, not in order. Why?

“Hmm…” Luna muttered, observing the boxes closer. “10… 2… 6… 14… 9… 6… 13.” The mare placed her hoof on ‘13’ and pushed the small door open more. Something shimmered from within. Luna reached forward and pick up the offending item.

It was the necklace that was gifted to her by her sister.

The alicorn cocked her head. When had she lost this? How had it gotten here? She she shook her head, then placed it around her neck. Somehow, she instantly felt warmer with it around her neck. It was a strange feeling, but one she welcomed. She hadn’t realized it until now, but she had felt so cold without it.

With the mystery solved, Luna turned around and walked back toward the lobby exit. This time, there was no sounds when she reached the door, and she pressed forward unhindered.

Upon exiting, the midnight blue alicorn was instantly engulfed by a wave of heavy fog. When she got her bearing, the mare looked around. It took her a few minutes to get her bearing, but it appeared that the mare was now located in the residential district, apparent by the decaying remain of several apartment buildings. In truth, she had never really visited this area of Canterlot; she never had any reason too. Her knowledge of the layout was highly limited. This, accompanied by the obstructing fog, meant that she had no idea where she was.

Luna let out a soft sigh, then limped forward onto the silent streets.

Part: 5

Chrysalis panted. She felt tired and weak, but that didn’t stop her from standing victorious over her kill—the abomination that dared challenge her. It’s throat had been ripped out, much like that of the previous two, the gaping wound dripping with its unnatural blood. Her body held fresh scars from her fight with the two creatures; a few minor cuts, bruises, and one good gash in her chitin armor. She would not let them slow her down.

The changeling’s eyes were currently locked with that of the hooded creature, standing resolute now that it’s two guards had been dealt with. It did not move, only it’s cloak flowing and rustling in the light breeze.

Chrysalis kept her gaze on the creature, trying to read it, trying to get anything from it. It wasn’t like any of the other creatures she had been encountered so far—they had been feral, all brute muscle and no brains. This creature… this shroud… held no violent intent. It did not rush her, it did not fight while she was taking out its sentries, only watched. To be honest, all it had done so far was follow her with it’s soulless eyes…

The changeling growled.

“What are you?” Chrysalis finally growled, still holding a threatening stance. “Speak!”

Moments passed in silence; the creature did not respond.

Chrysalis growled once more. “Speak!” she demanded, stomping a hoof into the carcass of the slain creature with a satisfying crunch. “If you wish not to fight, then what do you want? Why are you here? Who are you?!”

Once again, the creature did not respond, its unblinking stare not moving an inch off the queen.

Rage filled the changeling. What was this thing? What did it want? Why wouldn’t it speak?! Could it not? It surely could do something! Show any reaction at all!

Chrysalis stepped off her kill and began to approach the creature, practically seething with anger. As she got close, the creature began to retreat, matching her speed. It did not walk, but seemed to float—its body facing her. She picked up the pace, but the creature matched it yet again, keeping about a three meter buffer between them. With a growl, Chrysalis began to sprint, fire in her eyes.

“Get back here!” she screamed, following the creature blindly.

Chrysalis twisted and turned through the streets, following her target. She paid little attention to their location, only to the somehow never-closing distance between them. The creature took a sharp corner into an alley and the changeling followed without hesitation…

… only to dig her hooves into the ground to prevent herself from smashing into a brick wall. The alley was small, holding nothing but dust, debris, rotten wood—and no sign of her target.

Chrysalis threw her head back and let out a cry of sheer anger.

She turned to one of the piles of rubbish that laid in the small alley and gave it a mighty kick, sending its contents flying. More enraged strikes followed, hitting anything that wasn’t stone as her tantrum grew. She had been so close! That creature was in her grasp! She would have grabbed it and…

She paused, blinking, her rage suspended for the moment,.

And what, she questioned. What would she have done? Chrysalis fell on her rump, face screwed up in confusion. Why had she held so much anger for this creature? It had posed no threat. It had not attacked her. For all she knew, it held no ill intent for her.

Chrysalis shook her head once more, her scowl returning.

It did not matter. None of that mattered. It had refused to answer, or even acknowledge her. It could have held answers to why she was here, or even known a way out!

The changeling rose to her hooves with a grunt and stomped out of the alley. She surveyed the area she was now in. She had a basic understanding of Canterlot’s layout, having studied it before the failed invasion—Chrysalis let out an angry grunt at the thought—but it seemed to be of no help as she could not recognize this particular area.

She trotted out to the middle of the street and looked around. Like everywhere else, this part of the once-grand city laid in decay. The layout was similar to the financial district, but the buildings were a lot smaller and lacked even the smallest remnants of any true Canterlot flourish. They were plain, bland, and… practical.

Chrysalis shook her head. What did any of this matter? She did not have a destination, so why would it matter where she was? She shrugged, and turned to her right, trotting down the empty street...

O O

Luna continued to wander through the empty streets, her horn alight, but doing little to cut through the fog. Her head shifted from side to side, much like that of a hunted animal. In truth, she had no idea where she was going, but part of her figured that it didn’t matter. This hybrid realm had it’s own set of rules that seemed to guide her to where it wanted her to go, regardless of what decisions she made. She wagered that the most reasonable path of action was to just go with it, letting herself be guided to where she was wanted.

And that was what she did.

It wasn’t long after that the mare start to feel a… presence. It wasn’t like someone was watching her, but more that something was with her. She doubled her pace, all but panicking. Her body was still broken and she was in no form to fight. And, from what she had seen thus far of the creatures this place had produced, she would need all her strength to face any of them.

A growl resonated from within the fog.

Luna’s eyes went wide. Hesitantly, the mare slowly turned around, her eyes growing even larger when she saw two of the blinded thestrals slowly advancing on her, their heads shifting from side to side. Taking a shaky breath, Luna turned her head back to face where she was going before, only to find two more creatures heading towards her from there.

She was trapped.

Luna reached into her pool of magic, finding that she didn’t have enough mana to cast a teleportation spell. Her wings were bandaged to her sides. Panic overtook the mare. She used what magic she did have to conjure up a sword of magical energy, holding it at the ready by her side. It pulsed with dying energy.

The creatures continued their advance, closing the distance. They were only a few meters away from her now, essentially forming a killing circle around her. Sword at the ready, Luna was ready for a fight.

She was not prepared to die.

The circle tightened and Luna tightened the grip on her sword in turn.

A black blur shot out of the corner of Luna’s vision, smacking into one of the thestrals.

Chrysalis stood over the downed thestral, growling as she reached down and gripped the creature’s neck with her fangs, tearing out its throat with a single, sudden pull. Unnatural blood spurted from the wound, spraying all over the changeling’s face. Chrysalis could feel the creature’s warm essence run down her muzzle as she spit out the creature’s throat, her body pulsing with ecstasy of her kill. Her blood pumped fast, her eyes were thin slits, her mind went primal—the hunt was on.

Luna watched on in horror as Chrysalis bounded from creature to creature, ripping them apart one by one with only her fangs. Her sword dissipated. She was not witnessing a battle—she was witnessing a slaughter.

When all was said and done, and all four creatures lay dead around her, Chrysalis stood over her last victim, blood dripping from her muzzle. The changeling was covered in death, panting, a primal fire in her eyes. Her breath shuddered. She had killed them all. They had become only an inconvenience to her, now. She had learned how to hunt them—they had become her prey.

A hoof rested on the changeling’s shoulder.

Chrysalis’s head snapped towards the touch, fangs beared, only to pause when she saw the quickly retreating alicorn. Her hunger died down. Breath calming, Chrysalis stood tall, trying to tower over her unwanted companion.

“You looked shocked,” Chrysalis muttered, a sinister sneer on her muzzle.

Luna shook her head, the shock she felt dissipating as she steeled her features. “I know of your brutality, Chrysalis—that is not what surprises me.”

“Oh?”

Luna nodded. “Yes. What strikes me is how eager you were to protect me.”

“Do not think of it as anything other than mutual survival, pony. We are trapped in this hell together—I keep you alive so that I may live as well.”

“As you say, Chrysalis,” Luna pointed at her bandages with her muzzle. “I believe I can also thank you for this, yes?”

Chrysalis growled. “Do not mention it.”

“Hard to, when it keeps coming up.”

With an annoyed snort, Chrysalis turned away and began to head down the street, using her magic to clean off as much blood as she could. Luna was at her side not long after.

“So, what do you make of this place?” Luna asked, her eyes scanning the spanning fog.

“You tell me, Pony. You were the one who brought us here.”

“I merely seeded this realm, Chrysalis. It has grown beyond my control.”

Chrysalis deflated with a sigh. “Fantastic…”

The duo continued forward in relative silence, Chrysalis leading the way with Luna not far behind. The changeling occasionally glanced back at her companion, mixed emotions filling her mind. Usually, she was able to easily read a pony, either just by their body language, or tasting their emotions. Luna was different. The emotions the changeling tasted from the mare were all mixed together, tasting more like a watered down soup. Her features were even more confusing; her face held a mask of neutrality, while her body mirrored the effect.

What drives you, Pony? Chrysalis questioned in her mind.

A chill ran up the changeling’s spine, followed soon after by a feeling she knew all too well. Like a burst of hellfire, Chrysalis shot herself in front of the wounded alicorn, her head low and fangs beared. Her wings buzzed harshly, sending out an insect-like rattle.

Luna, after recovering from the changeling's sudden movement, hid herself behind her unexpected protector, completely oblivious to what had set off the changeling. They had been in the middle of one of the districts before the fog had thickened.

“What do you sense?” Luna questioned, her voice a harsh whisper.

Chrysalis remained silent, her concentration not broken by Luna’s question.

Silence reigned around the duo like a haunting shroud. The fog that physically surrounded them seemed denser, limiting their field of view further. Luna could not sense the entity that had the changeling spooked, but she dared not question the huntress’ instinct—the changeling’s skills far surpassed her own.

A soft song began pierce the silence, ringing out like a hollow requiem. It was sung by a soft, nurturing voice. A golden voice. Chrysalis was the first to notice. It was quiet, barely audible, but it soon began to grow. When it became fully auditable, Luna found that she could not understand the words being sung, as it was in a language that she did not know. The alicorn returned her attention to her changeling companion, intent on asking if she knew the words, but found her frozen in place, eyes wide.

Chrysalis knew this song… and knew the one who had sung it.

Luna watched as Chrysalis slowly began to trot forward, her eyes locked in a haunting gaze. Her movements were methodical, but zombie like.

Luna was worried.

“Chrysalis,” Luna spoke in a harsh whisper, “what are you doing?!”

“I know this voice… I remember this voice,” Chrysalis muttered through her haze, walking blindly forward.

“Stop!”

The song was hypnotic, telling the story of an old changeling queen and her rise to power, bringing her children with her. It was an old story, one passed down from all the royal bloodlines, and almost every royal knew it.

“Chrysalis, watch out!”

The changeling felt something slam into her side, smacking her out of her haze. When she came through, her eyes went wide and she slid to the side, just barely missing a large metal claw that sunk into where she had just been. Her senses soon returned to her, and Chrysalis became aware of her surroundings.

Luna stood over her, a flickering shield barely holding over the two. Beyond it, a creature desperately tried to smash it's way past. It’s barrel was the same as a pony, but that was where the similarities ended. It's head looked like it had been sliced in half, then sewn back together crudely, making it uneven. It's front and back hooves were much longer and slender than a normal pony. Where it's hooves should have been were three metal claws sticking out of the end, a metal brace connecting them to the rest of it’s hoof.

Luna’s shield flickered as the creature gave another strike, and Chrysalis could see the strain on the alicorn’s face to keep it up.

“Chrysalis! Do something!” Luna managed to scream through clenched teeth, her horn sparking after another blow from the creature.

Chrysalis’ mind reeled, thoughts flying through her head at uncontrollable speed. The shield soon fell, and all her thoughts were thrown away as she dove to the side, catching the alicorn in her hooves and rolling the two of them out of the way of a deadly strike.

Chrysalis released the alicorn once they were clear, then lunged forward in an attempt to tackle the creature off balance.

It was quicker than she was.

Its rear hooves lifted up at Lightning speed, slamming into the Changeling's barrel and sending her flying back next to her companion.

“Chrysalis!” Luna screamed in fear, but the changeling was back on her hooves before long, going in for another strike.

Luna watched as strike after strike from the changeling was met with the same result. The alicorn studied the creature's movements as crawled side to side, batting the changeling away with its hind hooves. It appeared that it could move them far faster than it's clawed front, which was good for the changeling, but only to a limited degree—blunt force trauma could be just as damaging as blade.

Chrysalis was thrown back once again, slamming into a storefront and falling onto the pavement below. She rose to her hooves with a few grunts, but panted from exhaustion and pain. She turned to the alicorn. “Got any ideas, Pony? I can’t keep this up forever.”

“I have an idea, but it may be quite stupid,” Luna spoke, rising to her own hooves and standing next to the changeling. “I will distract it, you go for the head.”

“For the head?” Chrysalis balked. “Are you crazy! It’ll rip me to shreds!”

“Trust me, Chrysalis. It’s a lot slower then you realize,” Luna added, then stepped toward the awaiting creature. It appeared that it was in no hurry.

Chrysalis slowly got herself into position, waiting for Luna to free up an opening. The creature turned its attention to the alicorn, rearing up and going for a mighty back kick. To chrysalis’ surprise, Luna merely braced herself and took the entirety of the blow, being thrown back in a painful cry.

The changeling saw red.

Chrysalis lunged forward with a mighty hiss, making it passed the creature’s deadly claws and landed on it’s back. She wrapped her hooves around it’s barrel, using her fangs to start ripping into the creature’s soft back.

The abomination let out a high pitched scream and began to frantically try and buck the changeling from it’s back. When that went unsuccessful, it tried to pry her off with it’s hooves, but it appears that their sheer length made it impossible for it to reach her.

Black blood and gore went flying like a heavy rain, spraying from the creature’s back as Chrysalis enacted her primal rage. The creature’s struggle started to weaken, its cries becoming weaker as it began to slump towards the ground. Once the creature’s struggle became pitiful, Chrysalis reached forward and grasped the creature’s muzzle with her own, then gave a mighty tug.

Snap!

The creature went still, falling onto it’s side. Chrysalis immediately jumped free from the creature and began to search for her fallen companion in the thickened fog.

“Pony?!” she cried out. “Where are you?” When she received no answer, Chrysalis began to panic. “Luna?!”

Chrysalis was greeted by a noise, but not the one she expected.

Come little changeling, your mother is here,
Be forever calm; you have nought to fear.
Come here my children, your queen will defend,
While I still stand strong, our hive will not end…

Chrysalis’ eyes closed as she began to softly sing along.

Welcome my love, to a land left untold,
In this endless age, you will ne'er grow old.
Welcome my love, I have waited so long,
Hear my voice echo; rejoice in my song.

A shadow emerged from the fog, the outline familiar to the queen. It was tall, radiant, and practically glowed with purity and love. “Chrysalis…” A voice whispered into the air. “Come back to bed, love. It was just a bad dream.”

Chrysalis smiled, a warmth that she had not felt in a long time washing over her like a warm blanket.

“Florina...”

[Eyes of Judgement] Original.

View Online

Eyes in the Abyss
By: Michael A.
Co-authored by: Scarheart!

Part: 1

The darkness surrounded a lone figure, accompanied by a strange mist. It trailed about her hooves, swirling with her methodical and slow movements. The air was cool and crisp. There was no wind. The world was calm, but held an unearthly aura. Something amiss, and the visitor could feel it.

Voices. Tiny voices. Hundreds of them. They drifted through the unnatural calm. They were the only thing to pierce the unnerving silence. The cacophony began to grow, becoming louder with each passing second. Within the shroud of mist, the visitor did not like it—she was at first unsure, but as she tilted an ear, she came to know to whom those voices belonged to, or, rather, remembered who they belonged to. She stopped, sensing the fear of what came next. Rather, had.

The area around her shifted, morphing by some unknown entity, until it formed into the old, crumbling hallway. She knew this hallway, having walked it many times before. She took a step, but stopped as a ghostly image of a servant appeared in front and walked through her. A paralyzing fear had overcome her mind, freezing her in place. Something felt badly out of place, yet was still… frighteningly familiar to her. Overcoming her fear with sheer stubbornness, she stood her ground, more ghostly images appeared around her, each a specter of someone who had walked this hallway before her.

There were more than just the voices. To her ears came cries of despair, tearing at her heart. Cries of pain crackled like madness and cries of pure terror shattered the air with ghostly echoes. A forgotten crown lay to the side, bent and disfigured as if to mock her. Where..? Curling a lip, the wandering soul growled, broken from her paralyzing trance long enough to kick it aside in a flare of dying rage. It crumbled as soon as her hoof made contact, causing her to lose her balance and trip slightly.

Nothing…

Her hooves clattered soundlessly as she regained her balance. Breathing was suddenly difficult. A heart deep within the chest pounded, threatening to burst. Turning her head from side to side, studying the hallway around her, wandering thoughts formed. Which way? Which door? Do I dare open one? More than one?

Dread followed in the shadows within the being which was herself. A slow and terrible dawning began to etch itself into being. Her mind contemplated the action, but ultimately decided that the only action she could take would be to open one of the doors. Her decision was not out of impulse or curiosity, but more out of an internal arrow that pointed her in the direction. Her hooves commanded her brain as she began to trot forwards, heading towards the closest door. It commanded her attention, thrumming as something on the other side pulsed with an unnatural life, like a ghostly heart without a body to bleat life into. It drew upon the senses, calling out a name she had begun to hate.

Chrysalis…

The name ran threw her head, causing her to hesitate as she reached for the handle.

“Am I?” It was her voice, yet felt apart. Its origin lay beyond the door she now stood before. Hesitation held her fast and she wondered, with fear, what lay beyond. Her mind fought with an internal struggle as she tried to make her decision. “Am I Chrysalis, or have I become something else?”

The door swung towards her unexpectedly and darkness spilled out like a wave of unbridled terror. The screams upon its waves overcame Chrysalis and the former queen tried to cry out, but her voice held no sound. The waves became tendrils, wrapping around her as laughter burst from deep of what lay beyond that door, the gripping sensation causing pain. Bones threatened to break as she was lifted easily. The Fallen Queen struggled, another cry forming in her throat, yet could not escape from between her fangs. The darkness drew her in and suddenly she knew what lay inside. Her wings— ghostly tatters of their former glory —flared out as she tried with even more effort to escape.

Come see your children!!! Her other half sneered in her head.

She was hauled through the door, her cerulean eyes wide with a terror she had not felt since… since…

“No… No… Nononono!” The words were there, but nothing came forth. They were phantoms of a plea that no one would ever hear.

The air shifted and a chamber formed around the body of the struggling changeling. Those horrid things that had gripped her disappeared as though they had never been. Head hanging low, something felt dreadfully wrong. The spark within sputtered and she struggled to keep it lit. Chrysalis did not want…

Her focus was broken as she heard the little scraping sounds of crawling things about her hooves. Blinking away the inner turmoil, she looked down and found a small creature pressing up against one of her forehooves. The familiarity put a slight smile to her broken lips. Bending further, she nuzzled her child.

She remembered. At first, it was the greatest elation of her life. Her first clutch of eggs!

Chrysalis hefted him wearily with her magic, bringing the little thing to her eye level. She smiled at her child and could hear the others coming. They had smelled their mother. She always came when it was feeding time. They could not know a different hunger was in the room with them that day.

The changeling ran her tongue over her dirty pale grub, settling down upon her stomach and easing her legs beneath her. Her body felt weak, but it was something that she felt that she had to do. More grubs undulated from around the chamber, drawn to their mother’s love. She could feel the need for love given of her. Was there enough? She already knew the answer. It was the challenge that every queen faced for their children, as feeding upon them this young, more than not, would cause them to die.

“No.. No, please. Please! I don’t want to see this!!”

Ah, but there was a choice. A choice that you made. You could have done more. This was your first batch; the first clutch. Was it a false start to your vast kingdom, Chrysalis? Why did you bother when you knew there was not enough love sustain yourself, much less your children? Her other self mocked her, the very one that had been speaking in her mind.

She called out to her children. They came, eagerly. Undeveloped and helpless; completely reliant on their mother’s protection and for sustenance. Their trust was absolute.

Chrysalis picked up the first one with her hooves, the one that had greeted her. Its sightless eyes fixated upon her muzzle as she gave it a nudge. The hunger was great. She had nothing to give. The changeling had searched and searched, but her hunt had ended in failure. Her intended targets had been slain by bandits, the house a burnt ruin.

Her maw opened, fangs gleaming. The child squirmed a little, completely trusting in its mother. A pause. Chrysalis realized what she was doing. She bit down. The grub spasmed, squirmed. It could not cry out, for it had no mouth. Slowly, she drained the love from her child, the poison already numbing its tiny body. There would be no pain. She screamed at herself, yet did not stop. She fed even though she was completely repulsed by her actions. The little body became more and more feeble. Then, nothing.

She set it down gently, with reverence. Horrified as something took over her conscience. Chrysalis tried to stop, but could not. More of her children were coming, expecting to be fed. Instinct drove them towards her and their terrible fate.

“Please… Please go away.” Chrysalis pleaded, knowing fully well how her pleas were in vain.

One by one, a starved shade of a young queen fed upon them. They shriveled as their lives were sucked painlessly through numbing fangs, tears falling upon the still bodies laid about her. Their love for their mother continued until their last breath.

Ah, and this is when I first nested in your little brain. I came to be. I thank you very much for that. Who says recycled love isn’t better the second time around?

Chrysalis didn’t hear the voice, her own blocking out everything as she internally pleaded for her body to stop. She did not drain them all.

Forty-two.

Forty-two children devoured.

Forty-two children murdered.

Forty-two souls sacrificed to appease a dark goddess.

Three remained.

Somehow, she had regained herself. Somehow, she had arranged the little forms into neat rows within the chamber. Mute horror grasped at her soul like a leech. The surviving grubs were on her back, oblivious to what she had just done. She would move them somewhere else. It would not bode well to raise them in a tomb.

The vision faded. Chrysalis was again alone in the foggy hallway. Hot tears streamed down her face as her legs trembled. She had tried to lock that memory away all her life, burying it in the deepest parts of her subconscious.

You assumed it was because you were young and inexperienced. Such a tragic moment for the buddings of a monster. You chose survival over your children, yet they would have died far more horribly if you had tried to keep them alive. A hard choice, one that you hate yourself for… and still fear that it was not the right one to make. Hate and self loathing buried it, but you never confronted it. This explains much. Yet, it is not enough.

The voice wasn’t her own, nor did she recognize it.

Shaking violently, the changeling threw her head up. “I had no choice!” cried Chrysalis. “I did not want to! I loved my children! I cherished my children! I gave my all for my children! I was starving! The hunt was poor! The war had decimated everything! There was no love to be had!” Tears were again saturating her cheeks. “I made a choice! Life or death! I could only save a few. I made their deaths as painless as possible!”

Did you?

“Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

It is not I who is on this journey—I wish to observe for now.

“What do you mean?! What journey? What’s going on?!” Chrysalis cried out in desperation, grasping at the possibility of what was going on.

A few minutes went by without a response, and the unknown entity had gone silent.

“I had laid too many eggs. I had so many hopes and dreams for my family. My hive. I was going to be strong, a good queen, a just queen. We would remain in the shadows, staying away from the more powerful queens, long enough until I could form a proper hive and establish myself. How was I to know the other queens would retaliate by destroying all of my food sources? There was a war among the ponies. The Banishment. Devastation was everywhere. What recourse was there for me? What choice did I have?”

There was always a choice, and always will be. It is the job of the ruler to make those tough choices.

Chrysalis bent her neck and wept.

Part: 2

Chrysalis moved, yet could feel no sensation of movement from her body. Muscles did not respond to her, yet she was guided, as if her mind willed her forward. The presence was with her, unseen. She could not ignore it, yet every time she tried to focus her attention to whomever it was watching her, a shadowy darkness appeared, blurring her sight.

A corridor appeared, much as before. It was as dark and foreboding as it was leading to the last door. The voices returned, some the same as before, others joining in the maddening din. Ghostly shapes passed through her. Chrysalis yelped, skittering away as her heart pounded in her chest.

Her thoughts lingered on her dead children.

Changelings were devoted to their queen. They would do anything for their mother. Their obedience was as blind as a freshly hatched grub. It had been a long time ago. The queen had thought she had pushed the dark memory so far into her mind it was all but forgotten. It only came in the dreams...

Eventually, the corridor would lead to another door. The fallen queen gathered herself, knowing she had to press on. There was no other choice. Something drove her forward. Was in instinct? Was it her own terror? The unknown terrified Chrysalis. Yet, she was a changeling. Changelings were meant to adapt in order to thrive. But... she was afraid.

Lingering horrors trailed after her, both imagined, freshly remembered and worse…

The ghostly creatures were pony in form, mostly. Fearful glances caught exposed ribs, shriveled innards, and rotten flesh. They were beginning to show signs of great violence having been done upon them. Some were missing limbs, or had great gashes upon their battered forms. Others were missing eyes or ears, some had their skin flayed from their bodies. Great acts of cruelty became visible as the forms became more and more numerous. Sounds of battle reached for the queen. Her ears pinned back and she shied from them, wide-eyed and dreading the noise. Chrysalis cried out.

War. War never changes, does it?

“Who are you?” The demand came out as a squeak.

You have asked the question before. You already know the answer. You simply refuse to accept it. Typical. You have never changed. Nothing you have learned in your life has ever convinced you to change from your own stubborn stupidity.

A dead changeling appeared before her. How she knew it was dead was due to the fact she remembered killing this particular changeling herself. It was another queen, tall and slender once. Beautiful then, a grotesque mockery of her former self now. The thing smiled at Chrysalis, bade her to follow.

Behind her, the ghosts fell in step, forming columns as they had marched in life. A soundless cry echoed into nothing, but it shook Chrysalis to her soul. The undead army responded, thundering their hooves to the ground and letting loose a hellish shriek to curdle the sun itself.

We who are about to die, accuse you!

Death. It is what we are now. Thanks to you.

Behold the fruits of your ambition, O’ great Queen!

Behold, the Queen of Deception! See how her greed for power consumes even the souls of those she had conquered!

Even those who desired peace with you were given the only gift you ever gave freely…

Death.

A door appeared before her, at the end of the corridor which had seemed far too small to hold an army. Yet, one was behind her, eager to please a Queen who could never be pleased.

“You knew this queen.” That voice again. The other one. Her strange, unseen guide. “She gave you shelter. She gave you succor. She gave you a place to raise what was left of your hive... She gave you love, and loved you. Yet, that was not enough, was it?”

“Stop it!” cried Chrysalis, dipping her head as if to duck from the accusation of truth. “I...I...I need explain nothing to you! I need not justify my past actions to something who will not show their face!”

“You do not have to, Queen of the Changelings. Go through the door. See what truths lie beyond its threshold.”

Chrysalis snarled, raising her head high, whipping it about as she whirled. The ghostly army stared at her, expectant. Soulless eyes burned with white blue flames of their necromantic unlife. The queen stared out among them, seeking and finding nothing of what she sought. Her companion remained unseen, unfelt, and unknown. For long moments, she stared, hoping against hope, as though her sheer will would bring her antagonist to light.

Nothing of the sort happened.

Fear and frustration gnawed at her. Slowly, she turned to the door. It stank of death. Only now did she notice the smell. It struck her like a falling brick wall, and she reeled backwards. Her stomach lurched and she fought the urge to vomit. Slowly, it opened as she approached it. Behind her, the army vanished as if a breeze had come and swept them away, like leaves in the autumn wind. Soulless laughter echoed in the darkness.

Before her stood the corpse of the one Queen who had offered her everything…

Smiling.

And quite dead.

“Have you come to inspect the quarters I had arranged for you?” it asked in a horrid, gurgling voice. She had a throat... once. It was gone, now. Chrysalis had torn it out with her own fangs. “The grubs will be most happy and comfortable. There is love to spare, so take as much as you want. Oh, it’s so good to have a Queen to talk to! It has been far too many years since I’ve come in contact with another hive!”

Chrysalis’ lower lip began to quiver. A new guilt washed over her and she held her breath. Wide-eyed, she stared at the abomination, even as the dark tendrils again snaked towards her, encircling her legs. Blood red flames burned in the eye sockets of the dead queen before her. No malice emanated from the undead thing─it was as though the creature was unaware it was dead. She beckoned, welcoming; the tendrils tightened, and Chrysalis was pulled into the door before she could utter a startled yelp.

Drones thrummed through the hive, going about their daily routines. Each one had a specific duty and each one was taught to be as efficient as possible. It was not a large colony of changelings, numbering not even two hundred. Their golden carapaces were dull underground. There had been some expansion done to the hive itself and its occupants were covered in dirt and grime. They were a hard-working family, having extended a hoof to a queen and her very small brood.

Queen Florina was an elderly changeling, though her beauty was without question. She was exotic, bearing a long, curved horn compared to the crooked one of the dark queen she had taken in. Always smiling and always laughing, Florina believed changelings were meant to be something for the world to awe, and in the best of ways. She had plans. Great plans. She had hoped to reveal herself to the world when her hive was strong enough. The timing was always bad, she explained helplessly to Chrysalis. If it wasn’t one thing, it was something else.

The ponies had just gone through a terrible civil war. One of the princesses had disappeared. Equestria was in shambles. There had been a change in the appearance of the moon. This terrified changelings. The moon was their guide at night and now they felt a malevolent spirit within it.

Queen Florina was not sure what to do. She had known both princess. Both had been her friends. Princess Luna herself had suggested integrating changelings into the world by using Equestria as a platform, but the plan had never gone into effect. She was supposed to present the idea before her sister…

As she pondered this, she shared her ideas with the younger queen. Chrysalis balked at the idea of ponies and changelings sharing the world. Ponies were easily mislead, had a herd mentality. Though Florina admired and respected the three tribes, Chrysalis only saw prey.

Her brood grew within the protection of the Golden Queen’s Hive and Chrysalis herself was given books of magic to better herself. Queen Florina trusted her, treating her like a little sister. She loved to talk about families, about coming across strange stallions on the road and bedding them on a whim. Mares, too, if the mood struck her right.

Chrysalis found she did love the queen who gave her shelter. But, her obsession for power began to fester, and grow. Every time she suggested it was time for her to expand out on her own, Florina would beg her to put off and be patient. “Give me some time to approach Celestia. She mourns the loss of her sister. I must be gentle going about this. I will reveal us to her and ask for land enough for the both of us to raise our children and expand our numbers.”

At first, Chrysalis relented, trusting her friend.

Friend…

Queen Florina was the first true friend she had ever had. The only one. The Golden Changeling matriarch had a soothing voice and kind eyes. Her wings could touch away the leavings of a bad day. Her changelings reflected their mother in almost every way. Hardship was worked through with diligence and a smile. Hard work was rewarded with love.

For Chrysalis, it was not enough.

She did, however, partake in Florina’s habit of waylaying travellers for a night of passion, taking on the guises of loved ones missed or left back home. Chrysalis, however preferred to assume the form of something near a goddess in the eyes of her victims. She gave them what they desired the most and she would drain the love from them until there was nothing but a lifeless husk.

Ponies were prey.

Celestia proved to be a very popular mare in the minds of stallions… and mares. She basked in the love they had for her. Chrysalis simply capitalized upon that. Her love stores were soon bloated and her power grew to heights she had never before dreamt possible. Months became years. Years became decades. Chrysalis repeated her methods, refined them until she felt they were perfect.

Queen Florina was unaware of what her friend was doing. She praised Chrysalis in how well toned she had become and marveled at the length of her mane and tail, marks of a truly exceptional queen indeed! The two became close and, eventually, became lovers. Chrysalis felt no guilt in the lives of the ponies she had slain.

Ponies were prey and nothing else.

Soon, it was Chrysalis finding excuses for Florina to put off presenting herself to Princess Celestia. The dark queen had begun to formulate her own plans and ideas. None of them involved a peaceful co-existence with Equestria. The combined hives had expanded and Chrysalis laid more and more eggs. Soon, her children outnumbered those of her hostess. They swarmed out into the night and learned how to imitate their food. Their mother gave them a touch to their minds of what was expected of them and she encouraged them in the arts of deception, coercion, and stealth.

Soon, all too soon, Queen Florina discovered what her beloved friend had been doing behind her back. Eventually, the actions of the Dark Queen caught up with her. One day, she was summoned to the throne chamber of the Golden Queen. Chrysalis knew something was wrong, for the summons came along with a contingent of guards.

As she entered the chamber, she noted a dried out husk belonging to a once pony upon the center of the floor. The glowing eyes of Queen Florina levelled upon her and they were filled with great sadness.

“Why?” she asked, her voice echoing.

Chrysalis felt guilt, at first. She could only stare at the dead pony, noting where her fangs had pierced the skin. The changeling loved going for the throat. The pulse of life was greatest there, offering the greatest thrill, even as the throes of passion ended as any victim of a black widow.

“Ponies are prey,” came the reply, Chrysalis looking up. Whatever shame she might have had was pushed aside as her pride asserted itself.

“They are our key to peace!”

Chrysalis snorted, stepping forward until she loomed over the corpse. “This?” She nudged it with a hard hoof. “This thing? These weaklings? They cannot even admit they wronged their night princess! She fell to darkness and they did nothing to reach out to her! Her own sister even basked in the glory and failed to see what she was doing. They will cause their own destruction. Ponies must be made to kneel before us!”

Florina rose to her hooves, her wings flaring with anger and buzzing at the indignity. “Treachery! You want war!”

“I want what I deserve. What you deserve. What we should have!”

“I will not have blood on my hooves! I will not murder the innocent! Please, Beloved, there is a chance to atone! Please, cease this madness! You only cater to the darkness. Do not give into it! It is the very same sort of darkness which cast Luna from her sister! Do not cast yourself from me!” There was something in those eyes.

Chrysalis narrowed her own.

“I love you, Chrysalis. Do not do this. I beg you!”

In my heart, there is no room…

“I thank you for your hospitality, Queen Florina. I will take my changelings and I will leave. I will not involve you in my war, but I will ask you stay out of my way.” Chrysalis turned to leave.

“I can’t let you do that.”

She stopped in mid stride, slowly turning her head and giving her friend an incredulous look. “Can’t? You are just as weak as they are.”

“I will stop you.”

“Stop me?” Chrysalis laughed. It was maniacal and short. “If you try, I will kill you. I will slaughter your hive and burn it all to the ground. I have grown powerful, Florina. Far more powerful than you can even imagine. You have taught me much and I will forever be grateful. But my path lies in the place you will not go, apparently. Stay to your own path. I will forge my own.”

“So, Chrysalis… you did love. Once.”

“I am sorry, Beloved.” Sadness crashed against the Dark Queen’s senses. “But I cannot in good conscience allow you to leave this place. This is my last warning: put away your desire for power and be content with what you have. You need for nothing. You want for less. We are all we need. Please.” Tears formed. And fell. “Please, Chrysalis.”

Chrysalis bowed her head and closed her eyes. She churned inwardly with the sort of titanic struggle all great kings and queens undergo, but for her…

Kill quickly or make it a torturous experience?

Her head snapped up as she made up her mind, bearing a smile as soothing as a cool, clear stream. Her horn glowed and her eyes were alight. Florina was confused, not sure what to make of the odd combination.

It cost her.

Chrysalis released the spell and became a blur. Her shadowy form darted forward, closing a distance of twenty feet in the blink of an eye. She reformed before the Golden Queen, her jaws opening and her fangs glinting in the light of the room. As she moved, a mental command went out. As her fangs bit into flesh, her changelings moved as one. Florina struggled, feeling her power being drained. Feebly she kicked, trying to gasp through a crushed windpipe. A horrible, wet gurgling sound bubbled from her throat. Chrysalis bit down harder and wrenched her jaws violently. The tearing of flesh found her ears and blood gushed into her mouth.

No...what are you doing? Stop! Not like this! Chrysalis shut away the little voice trying to reason with her. It had no place now.

Florina fell away, forgotten, gasping for air that would not come. The queen thrashed as Chrysalis stepped away, casually blasting the guards who rose to defend their mother far too late. Cackling madly, she began to slaughter, feeling the magic of the dead queen coursing through her and giving her a drunken sensation.

The message she sent her children resounded and they all acknowledged eagerly the will of their mother.

They would do as their queen, their mother, commanded and without question. They were the instruments of her will and the extension of her power.

She was cast from the room violently, rolling over and over, her wings and legs flailing uselessly. Eventually, she skidded to a stop and simply lay there, battered and empty. Everything was broken. Her heart. Her will. Her mind. Her life. Chrysalis began to weep, pulling her legs painfully to her body. She wept for the friend she had murdered. Her remorse would never bring back the dead queen. She opened her eyes and Florina’s dead corpse was there again, smiling at her. It then faded.

“Why would you throw away love and stability for ambition? I am curious.”

Chrysalis could not respond with anything other than more weeping. She did manage to draw herself into a guilt-ridden ball of apathy. “Let me die,” she begged when she did find her voice. “End it. You’ve seen what I am, what I did. By all things sacred, kill me! I am a monster!”

“Kill you? Are you an animal to be slaughtered? Do I have the right to take your life? Is your life even worth taking? You are a monster, Chrysalis. You made yourself into one. The path you made was of your own choosing.”

Chrysalis hauled her head up. “Who are you?”

No answer was given. The voices from before were gone. There was nothing but darkness and cold. A strange numbness began to seep through her joints and muscles. The fallen changeling could feel eyes upon her and the pity behind them. She snarled at the sense.

“Spare me your pity, whoever, or whatever, you are.”

“I cannot help but feel pity at something that is pitiful, Chrysalis. You have become that.”

“You mock me!”

“No. I do not. I see something I had once become.”

“Nothing you could have ever been could possibly match me...”

“Not even a Nightmare?”

Part: 3

The darkness swirled around her. The memories tumbled carelessly and without coherence. A conversation with a changeling mingled with the screams of a dying manticore which had foolishly fallen into the hive. She was not sure when either had happened, nor if they were figments or fact. Death beckoned slowly, grinning with no emotion--only the inevitable.

Time. Time was against her. This she knew, yet she wondered if she should even care. It haunted over her like an eerie shadow. Death and time, hoof in hoof. Marching in step, never changing. Unstoppable. Unavoidable.

She fought back an urge to scream. Instead, a choking sob erupted in its place.

A hallway appeared before her.

“No,” she cried. “Not again.”

One leg moved forward, followed by another. Against her will, her body shuddered, shambling down the hall. The mists returned and surrounded her. It was cold. The voices of the dead once again assailed her ears. Tear stained cheeks again felt the flows as her eyes became misted in her grief.

“Please, don’t do this,” she begged.

Onwards, she trudged. A door appeared. It was green and charcoal black, like chitin. It pulsed like the heart of a hive. A deathly hiss sounded around her. Chrysalis flinched, her ears splaying flat and behind her skull. Her neck sagged, her head hanging low.

“No. No. No. No.”

She knew what was next. Her heart went cold and her mind froze.

Again, the dark tendrils reached forward from beneath the door, this time tinged the emerald color of her markings.

The entirety of the door swung open and lunged at her like a striking predator, gleaming fangs bursting from the frames and clacking together loudly like bone plates. Chrysalis screamed as she was devoured.

Time. It is a fickle thing, but it always moves onward. Three centuries since she betrayed the queen who had taken her in, Chrysalis had become strong. She was at the pinnacle of her power. All changeling queens feared her, what few that had not fallen in the shadows of her conquests. Her hive was enormous; colonies sent tribute to her constantly. Her reach extended throughout the land and her kind was still unknown to the world.

She had all but forgotten the Golden Queen. Sometimes, she would recall a distant conversation, but her greed and malice had blotted out what love might have been in her heart. The nightmares were frequent and she slept little, but she ignored them. Such things were beneath her. She was the Queen of the Changelings, all of the changelings, and right now, one of her children was questioning her. Questioning her rule.

“Why are you showing me this?” Chrysalis demanded of her changeling. Her irritation was evident as she glared at her child. Her throne room was vast, her seat of power a raised dais covered with cushions. She lay upon it lazily, her tail flicking in time with her annoyance. With a flippant wave of her holed hoof, she indicated towards the shivering mass next to her child. It was a pony.

“Mother,” her child began, flicking her ear towards her captive. “We must maintain our love supplies. I understand and fully believe in your rule, but can we not give our love sources some comfort? Can we not give them proper food and water?”

Chrysalis snorted. “And why should I even consider that? When one pony has given the hive all it can before no longer serving of any use, it is disposed of and replaced. Why should we put an effort into giving comfort to our prey?” Her eyes levelled coolly upon her daughter.

“If we care for them—” The changeling swallowed hard and shivered under her mother’s glower. “—properly, then we could extend their life expectancy and possibly be able to extend the duration in which we can draw love from them.” She kept her head low, but maintained eye contact with the Queen.

Chrysalis hated sniveling children and demanded any who spoke to her match eye-for-eye. Those who showed weakness were not long for this world.

The Queen considered the pony, peeling her lips back in a crooked sneer. “Look at it! Soft. Weak. A herd animal. You are suggesting treating them like farm animals, my daughter?” She leaned forward, a wicked grin twisting rapidly into a scowl.

“Mother, this is a living, thinking creature. Perhaps if we were to take into the consequences of discovery in the future, then perhaps—”

“Do you think me foolish enough to expose us to retaliation, child?” asked the Queen dangerously. Her voice had dropped to a deathly whisper, her eyes having narrowed to glowing green slits of menace.

The changeling drone kissed the floor with her muzzle. “N-no, Mother! I-I-I only urge caution and a suggestion to help the hive!” Waves of fear drained out from her small form.

Chrysalis drank it in, smirking as she reclined back. “Do you think you know better to run the hive than me, my little morsel?”

Eyes wide with fear, the drone looked up in abject shock. “No, Mother! I would never—”

The Queen rose like a shadow of pure horror, her eyes ablaze with green fire. Her mane flowed out behind her like undulating snakes, her wings flaring madly as they buzzed. She was massive; she was power unrivaled. Chrysalis invoked terror from herself, casting it about the room as wave upon wave upon wave of malice.

“You dare think I cannot rule! You dare to question me, the one who gave your pathetic form life? YOU DARE?” The matriarch’s voice boomed like a thunderclap throughout the chamber, shaking her stoic guards to the very core of their beings. Her horn was aglow with her terrible power. She selected a target.

The pony screamed. It was lifted from the floor, and it screamed. It was a whinny of a stallion who knew he was going to die. The Queen’s aura enveloped him, bits of shards like bolts breaking off and impaling themselves deep into his flesh. Blood gushed, and the screaming went on and on. The drone looked on as slowly, oh, so slowly her mother began to tear his limbs from their sockets.

After what seemed an eternity, Chrysalis grew bored and flicked her horn. The pony gave one last horrid, gurgling scream before he flew in several directions throughout the room in a bloody mess.

Not a drop touched the Queen.

Shaking with fear, the drone could feel her mother’s displeasure as attention shifted from where the captive had been to her.

“I gave you love and this is how you repay my duties as a mother? You question me? Child, you are sorely misguided with your thinking.” The Queen settled down to her hooves, casting a concerned look over her shoulder at her cushions. Seeing nothing amiss with her comfort, she again turned upon her wayward daughter. “You must be punished.”

“I-I-I… Yes, Mother.” The drone bowed her head, trembling with violence as though her body was about ready to shake apart.

“Very well, then.” Again, her eyes lit up with magic. “Look upon me.” Chrysalis settled back into her throne and appeared for all the world she had never left her spot. The drone did as she was told, her solid blue eyes wide with fear. She reached out and touched the link she shared with her, as she did with all of her children. Once she had that firmly within her grasp, she commanded through her mental link with her children to pay attention.

“Observe, my children,” she whispered into every mind. Chrysalis could feel the very souls of each and every one of her offspring, noting with satisfaction they all obeyed without question. “Your sister has strayed. She has broken herself from the hive. She has forgotten the laws I have labored to make and uphold. She has taken the love I have given her —so she might be strong and clever— and spat it in my face. She has been judged. She must be punished. Observe, my children.”

The drone squirmed as she felt all of her siblings linking with her mind. They were cold and indifferent. An expectant hush made her mind silent. The silence was deafening. Her heart seized again with terror, but she looked up at her mother. No, not her mother.

Her Queen.

She was terrible. She was power. She was absolute.

Chrysalis beckoned her drone to her with a thought. The drone obeyed. She rose to her rubbery hooves and shambled forward, obedient and submissive. Within her, she cried out. The memory was far too strong. It was one of but many examples. This example stood out. She raged against herself, cried for her past self to stop, to not do this--to show mercy.

When the drone was close enough, the Queen reached out with a hoof and tenderly caressed the little changeling’s jawline and chin. She smiled down gently, before malevolence took hold and twisted her expression. The vile grin came with a hiss and her mind took hold in a cruel manner as to cause her daughter to cry out in pain.

“You are a defect,” hissed Chrysalis. “You are flawed. You are broken. You cannot be my child. No changeling of mine is weak. You have shown weakness by having empathy for a source of food. I must take back that which I gave you. I must make an example of you. Do you understand, child?”

With her eyes squeezed shut from the pressure upon her mind, the drone nodded quickly, swallowing with a dry tongue and suddenly parched throat. A cry muffled through from her vocal chords.

Leaning forward, Chrysalis bestowed a kiss upon her daughter upon the tip of her snout. She then pulled back and regarded the drone for a moment. Opening her mouth, her fangs gleamed in the low light of the room. They elongated, her primary fangs dropping another inch. Magic flared along the length of her jagged horn, and she began to draw in breath to the back of her throat.

The drone gasped, her eyes shooting wide. Her body began to spasm and she writhed against the involuntary movement. Chrysalis regretted what she was about to do, but it was necessary, she reasoned. Order had to be maintained. There could be no dissention, imagined or otherwise. Good intentions meant nothing to the Queen. Only her word mattered.

Slowly, she began to suck the life from her daughter.

The pain was like pulling sinew and muscles apart. The drone’s mind became aflame. Pain wracked every inch of her frame. She could feel her brothers and sisters draw back from the sudden violence. But, there was no pity. Only cold agreement that Chrysalis’ word was law.

The Queen continued to drain her daughter, though she felt a smidgen of remorse. To correct a problem sometimes meant sacrificing for the greater good of the hive. It could not be weakened by the words of a single voice of dissention. She mourned for her child while at the same time remaining focused on the task. If she broke her own laws, then what good was she as a ruler? She could not be a mother. Such kindness was reserved for her eggs and larvae. Her nymphs required so much love.

As for the adults?

They needed to pull their own weight. Obedience was the only way if the hive was to function.

The drone fought. Her instincts begged her to fight back, to hold on to life. It was everything she had. It was the only thing she knew. She feared the void, just as the pony had feared dying moments ago. She did not want to die. She begged and pleaded with Chrysalis to forgive her.

Chrysalis ignored her.

In a manner of seconds, there was nothing but a lifeless husk.

The Queen eyed her dead daughter indifferently. “Leave me,” she commanded her guards. Silently they obeyed.

Once the room was empty, and she made sure that noling could hear her, she wept. Chrysalis cried with regret, sadness, and self-hatred. She had cried for who she had become, and what she had to do.

Part: 4

Tears… something that the once queen knew quite well, but showed no one. Tears was a sign of weakness, and weaknesses could be exploited. She was supposed to be strong—a leader. One with followers so devoted they could be called children. She was their mother, their god, and their salvation. What type of god would cry? What type of god would show their weakness to the world? Chrysalis knew she was none of those things, but she never wanted to give that fact out to anyling.

Dark mist surrounded the fallen Queen, shrouding her in a dark aura that matched her heart. The hallway had returned, the ghostly shadows of her past still slowly walking down it in their never ending cycle. Their lives were cut short, or thrown off by her in one way or another; it was her fault that they walked this hallway.

Chrysalis shivered, her body shaking from both her sobs and the bitter cold that seared her soul. This hallway was a reminder of all of her sins, all of her flaws, and all of her mistakes. Was this Tartarus? Was this her eternal punishment for her wrongdoings in life? She did not know, nor did she care. If this was her fate, then it was one deserved.

This is the fate of a monster.

Soon, tears stopped falling, her throat running sore as her body had cried itself out. Although she had no more tears to shed, her sorrow remained. As she lay on the ground, a ghostly hoof stepped just in front of her muzzle. It trailed off, followed swiftly by three others, slowly trotting into the distance. Per curiosity, she tilted her gaze up and noticed something familiar about the pony it belonged to. It was a small green colt, his mane black and his flank was blank. She knew this foal. He stuck out in Chrysalis’ mind, though she could not place why. The queen rose to her hooves, her body slowly beginning to follow the apparition of the young pony who continued to walk forwards, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He trotted forwards, his eyes blank, staring blindly forwards.

Chrysalis trotted forwards, following the foal. More apparitions appeared and disappeared around her, though she payed them no mind. Her focus was on the child. Soon, the small foal took a right, walking towards one of the doors that lined the hallway. He stepped forwards, his body passing right right through as he phased through the door.. Chrysalis stood there, staring in the wake of his passing. Should she open it? Would it lead to the child that had piqued her attention? Dare her courage to flare past her fear and self loathing and bid her to go against her instinct to flee? The doors since now had held something of an evil, haunting aura around them, mimicking the memories they held behind them. This one, though, didn’t hold any negative emotions. It held an odd, foreign emotion that she had long since forgotten: joy.

The fallen queen stood at the door’s entrance, mind deep in contemplation. Soon, however, her horn lit up, the changeling set her jaw firmly, and the door handle glowing in her respective magical aura.

She turned the handle, and trotted in.

Chrysalis trotted forwards, the world around her red with fire. Her expression was neutral, holding no emotion. Her changelings buzzed around her, the Hive Mind full of chatter as the raid continued. Only minutes before, she and her hive had arrived at the isolated settlement along the Equestrian border, their goal to seize more vessels for them to feed on. Her hive was efficient, capturing all they could, killing all who opposed, and burned down the settlement to leave no trace of their presence. Screams of pain and suffering filled the Queen’s ears, accompanied by only the sounds of the raging fire.

“It looks like it’s going to be a good harvest,” she thought, walking over the corpses of fallen ponies, slain in their attempts to fight back. She stopped over the body of a fallen changeling, and looked down at it with shame. “Weak, falling to weaponless ponies…” She walked over him, commanding the Hive Mind to burn the body.

There had to be no evidence they were there.

She walked towards the middle of the burning settlement, watching as the rest final changeling flew off, heading back towards the hive with their harvest. She buzzed her wings, giving an approving nod at her children’s work before crouching down and readying herself for flight.

Then she heard it.

It was a soft cry, barely above the crackle and snapping for burning wood. Chrysalis paused her action, raising an ear to the sound. It cried out again, this time a little louder. Coughing accompanied the weeping. Chrysalis stood up tall, craning her neck around and trying to find the source of the cry. Her long and slender ears perked and swiveled at their bases, searching actively. After a few moments of listening, she tracked the source from a nearby building, flames shooting out for it’s windows.

“Huh… seems my children missed one,” she thought, trotting towards the building. She would have left it, letting the fire consume the one inside, but she didn’t want to risk anyone escaping. Her hive was close.

Throwing up a quick shield, the mighty queen strode into the building, flames licking at the sides of the bubble of energy that separated her from the heat. She looked around, searching for the source of the sound, and stumbling upon it soon enough. A small foal lay in his crib, apparently forgotten or his parents cocooned or, perhaps, even slain some time during the raid. There had been no sign of a struggle in what remained of the house. The devouring flames slowly making their way towards him.

Chrysalis crept up to the child, her shield phasing around him and letting him into its protective grasp. The child was still crying from inside its crib, wailing for a mother that would never return. Chrysalis looked around the room, and saw no signs that her changelings had even been in this house. Had the child's parents abandoned it?

Chrysalis crept up closer, picking up the child in her magic and lifting him up, facing him towards her. She expected the child to scream, cry out in fear for the monster in front of him. But, the colt didn't. The child silenced, holding out its hooves as if asking for Chrysalis to hold him. For the moment, she ignored his want, glaring at the wall as if it offended her. With a surge of magic running the length of her horn, the tip fired a bolt. It impacted and blew away a portion of the wall. Calmly, the changeling queen strode through it as though it was merely a stroll through the park. The foal hovered in the air, tagging along like a wriggling balloon.

Chrysalis tilted her head. "Do you not fear me, little one?

The foal didn't respond, instead wiggling and giggling, laughing at being suspended by magic. A small smile crept across the queen's face, the first genuine one she'd had in awhile. Chrysalis floated the foal onto her back, who immediately snuggled himself into her mane, grabbing some in his mouth.

The queen made her way away from the burning town, all but one of its residents killed or captured. Chrysalis felt the colt on her back shift, getting into a comfortable position, before she felt him gently fall asleep. Once she was far enough away so that the smoke would not affect them, she dropped the shield, letting the warm summer air waft over her body. Gently, the changeling queen laid down, trying her best not to disturb the precious cargo on her back. The foal shifted, but did not wake.

Looking back, Chrysalis looked upon the foal’s sleeping form, his chest slowly rising and falling. “You do not fear me… you love me as if I was your mother, I feel it radiating off of you,” she thought, resisting the urge to feed on the young child's love. As she stood lay there, watching over the young pony, a question bounced around in her mind: what was she going? She could not bring him back to her hive, his unconditional love for his unwillingly adopted mother would be impossible to hide, and would draw out any drone or guard who even got near him. But, she could also not leave him here. As ruthless as the queen was, she couldn’t bring herself to kill or abandon the one thing other than her children to willingly give her love.

She sighed, rising to her hooves, careful not to disturb the foal, and began trotting in the direction of the closest settlement she knew of, one that she would make sure that she never visited again…

The world returned to Chrysalis, her body and mind back in the present. The door she had just walked through remained in front of her, though the emotions she had felt while she was in her memory lingered. Hope. Joy. Happiness. All emotions that had become foreign to her for so long. A tear ran down the length of her muzzle, followed shortly by others.

This had been the first happy memory, the first one that had shown a side to her that wasn’t a monster. One good deed did not make up for all the evil she had done; not even close. But, the feeling was a welcome one, the warmth in her heart felt good contrary to the cold and emptiness it usually held.

Mercy… That is not something that I would have expected from you, Queen. You actions were entirely selfless, and done without gain…

The voice returned, the one was was not born from her dreams or memory. The queen growled, the warmth in her heart vanishing and replaced with hate for her unseen spectator. She rose to her hooves, wings flaring and teeth showing as she got into an offensive stance. Chrysalis did not know the origin or direction of the disembodied voice, but she didn’t care. It could see her, so it could see her anger.

“Show yourself!” She screamed into the hallway, her hoof stomping into the misty ground. “I demand that you show your presence! You watch as I relive my pain; memories that I let bury and rot in my mind. Do you find joy in my suffering? Do you enjoy watching as I break?!”

With nostrils flared, the enraged queen bucked her hind hooves and made contact with the door, expecting it to break under her blow. But, to her disappointment, the door remained firm; deflecting her strike as if it were nothing. The queen stumbled forwards, taking a moment to regain her balance.

“What do you want…?” she mumbled, her voice soft, pleading rather than threatening.

The hallway was silent, the apparitions that continued to roam the halls continuing their deathly march, their presence the only thing that stirred. Chrysalis wanted to scream, wanted to cry. The queen wanted to release the anger and pent up emotions that flooded her mind. She was overwhelmed, the entire experience too much for her. She wanted to give up, to just die and rid herself of the pain and contemplation. But, she could not.

You are an interesting creature, Queen Chrysalis. You want nothing more than to die, but at the same time you have the greatest will to live I have ever seen. What drives you?

Chrysalis sighed, shaking her head. “I have asked myself that many times before. Day after day, night after night, I just want to die. I have done so much wrong, I have killed so many, I have mistreated friends and family, children and subjects, all in the name of…” Her voice caught in her throat, the next few words refusing to leave her lips. The queen’s muzzle scrunched up in anger, annoyance at herself. In one swift movement, the queen turned on her hind hooves and smacked her head against the nearest wall.

“Get these thoughts out of my head!” she screamed, repeating her violent action of self harm. “I just want to die!”

Each blow brought more pain that filled the queen’s mind, yet no visual evidence of her actions shown on her body. Conflicting thoughts ran through her head: Regret, yet acceptance. Pain, yet relief. Love, yet hate.

When the changeling could take no more, she ceased her torture and fell onto the ground, bringing her hooves to her head and screaming; both in pain and in anger. “What is wrong with me?!”

I… I do not know, the voice admitted, its neutral tone now showing concern. I once saw you as a one dimensional monster; a beast whose only purpose was to harm, and was fueled by only hate. Now… now we do not know what to think. None of your actions have been justified, nothing you have done is redeemable. Yet… yet you are not a monster of hate as we once viewed you as.

The queen sniffled, taking a shaky breath from her position on the floor. “Then what do you see me as now? What am I?”

The voice was silent. Chrysalis could feel it’s presence, sensing its contemplation.

We do not know, yet. More must be shown, before we bestow proper judgement. The voice sighed. There is one more memory that both of us must observe, one that we feel will reveal much that still remains hidden.

Chrysalis stood on her hooves, her head pounding, but her will to confront the voice kept her strong. “And what is that? What is this final memory that you want me to see?”

The voice was silent once again, and this time Chrysalis could sense that she was alone. The queen stood there, ghosts of her past trotting around and through her. She was alone, once again… she was always alone.

Part: 5

There is no black and white, only grey. Ponies believe that they can deem someone a hero, while another a villain.

Such a concept of absolutes is laughable.

There is no creature which is free of sin—free of wrongdoing. A pony can do a heroic act, but does that make them a hero? Can one good deed render someling worthy of the title of "Hero"? On the contrast, can one "evil" deed be enough to label someone a villain? Can a single fault, a decision that does not agree with someone's moral code, be cause for a title such as "Villain"?

The answer, simply, is no.

There are no Heroes, nor are there Villains. There are just ponies; driven by different ideals, following different morals, and believing in different beliefs. What one would call evil, another would call good. Such is where the lines of grey cloud the concept of a moral code. Morality is, in itself, always relative, thus which is why it is a code, not law. Judgement should be based as dynamically as the code itself, and no two actions should be judged in the same way.

But, this is never the case.

Bias, prejudice, and hate cloud a fair judgment; no one can be considered free from these corruptions. All have their minds clouded by their own upbringings, ideas and beliefs crafted by their own mind, or forced upon by the minds of others, that make up this corrupting haze.

There was no fair jury.

But, as Chrysalis lay on the ground, her mind filled with the thoughts of her sins, her faults, and her life, she couldn’t help but become the jury of her own trial; the judge of her own moral fate. It couldn’t be denied, nor would she, the wrongdoing she had committed in her life.

Murder, manipulation, theft, just the tip of the iceberg.

But, her mind now though back to a different time, a time when she had not been the monster she was now. With all her thoughts, the queen could not deny that she had done some good in her life. She had given mercy, she had given life, she had sacrificed for others. It didn’t make up for her sins, as nothing would, but it did give her hope that her soul wasn’t completely back, that there was still some good deep within her.

Phantoms of the past, ghost of her mistakes, walked the hallway she now stood in. She had ignored them at first, their faces being too hurtful to remember. But, as time went on, she found herself drawn to the lifeless faces. Watching like a sentry, the fallen queen watched the faces go by, memories of their lives briefly flashing in her mind as they past, only to vanish as they trotted out of sight. Out of every door that she had gone through, out of every horrible memory she had visited, these ghosts who were forever present brought her the most pain. The memories faded, but they never left.

They haunted her.

As the ghost trotted past, Chrysalis finally noticed the outline of a door softly glowing further down the hallway. She didn’t want to enter it, as she feared what lay behind, but, like all the others, she was drawn to it by an invisible string, one that tugged at her very soul.

Hoof after hoof, the changeling made her way toward the door. The spirits around her trotted through her as if she wasn’t there, dissipating and rematerializing as they continued their endless march. When she was only hoofsteps away, and the door seemed to breath with a ghostly pulse, the once queen took a deep breath, before reaching forwards and turning the handle with a hoof, the void beyond sucking her in as she entered…

The queen sat at her throne, her posture perfect and her face impassive, a mask of a royalty painted across her entire features. The queen was quiet, her eyes the only thing that moved as she looked into the room beyond. Thousands, almost millions of her subjects of her charge stood, hung, or hovered in the grand chamber in front of her, each one silent and patient, eagerly waiting to hear what their leader, their mother had to say.

The time of theatrics was over; her powerful presence had already been transmitted to her subjects. Chrysalis rose from her golden throne, the jewels and precious metals that made up its design were immaculate, but still held the blood of their acquisition. All eyes in the room remained on her, non daring to speak.

“My subjects… my children… for years I have treated you well,” the queen began, her voice soft, as there was nothing to block it. “I have provided for you, I have lead you, and I have raised you to be the changelings you are today. Throughout this time, I have asked a lot for you, and I am proud to say that rarely have I been disappointed.”

The queen paused, her body remained standing tall, but her mind seemed to wander.

“I am still not disappointed,” the queen continued. “But there is something that I cannot hide from you anymore. The Hunger draws closer; I have witness more of you, my children, succumb to its effects. I do not blame any of you for this, as it is I who am only one to blame…” Again, the queen went silent, but this time the pause was much shorter. “It is the job of the queen to provide for her citizens, her children, and when you are suffering, it is only me to blame.”

Chrysalis stomps a mighty hoof into the floor, tiny fissures spider webbing from the point of impact. The queen’s face of neutrality was broken as it shifted to rage, anger at herself. “I will not let this continue!” she screamed, slamming her hoof into the ground again. “I will not let you starve; I will not let the Hunger take over my hive! I have devised a plan, a brilliant plan, to make sure that we will never, ever go hungry again. We will go to a place that has more food than we can imagine, a place where they have lived comfortably for far too long!” The queen stomped her hoof again, this time continuing the cycle, to which the rest of the hive matched. A chant, a drum roll of stomps filled the halls of the hive, the ground practically shaking from the countless amount of hooves stomping into it in unison. “Ready the army, prepare yourself for war!” she chanted, her eyes turning from the collective in front of her to a chained, and heavily guarded pink alicorn held besides her throne. With a smile and a flick of her horn, the changeling erupted into green flame, a figure matching the captive being left in the flame’s wake.

The hall continued with the chants of her children, a toothy grin spread across the false alicorn’s muzzle.

“Tomorrow… we take Equestria!”

Like all the other’s, the queen returned to the present just outside of the door, her mind swimming with the memory she had just relived. Unlike before, this memory didn’t fill her with sadness, or even hope.

All it brought was anger.

The fallen queen let out a scream of anger, her hooves stomping into the cobblestone floor of the hallway. Her anger was real, and plentiful. Stomp after stomp, Chrysalis slammed her anger into the floor, her screams accompanying the slams of her rage.

“It should have worked!” she screamed, turning her anger from the floor to a nearby wall. “It was going to perfectly, why didn’t it work?!”

This memory had given her a glimpse into her most hated memory, the one moment when she hated herself the most. Taking Canterlot was supposed to be easy, her plan carefully constructed over months of planning, the execution almost perfect. One slip, one thing she didn’t account for, and the entire plan crumbled, tumbling further and further down until she found herself in exile, banished by the very creatures she had once lead.

This had been the first time a Queen had been overthrown by her own subjects.

Rage faded to hatred. Hatred faded into anger. And anger faded into nothingness. After an unknown amount of time, the former queen stood winded in the middle of the hallway, her chest panting.

“War? You chose… war?”

The voice returned, the one she had grown to hate. She believed it to belong to the one who had trapped her here, causing her to relive past pain, and that only lead to her hatred growing.

“Yes! I chose war!” she screamed to the ceiling. “I had no other choice! A have without food is a dead one, and I chose to take it from those who didn’t deserve it!”

“And why is that?” the voice questioned. “Why did they ‘deserve’ it?”

The changeling scoffed. “Ponies, trotting around as if they are the greatest species in the world. They get everything given to them on a silver platter, all their troubles dealt with for them. They don’t know struggle, they don’t know pain, it was about time they got their fair share!”

“You base war on jealousy? You risk the lives of your children, and take the lives of ponies, all for jealousy?”

“No!” the once queen restored, denying something she knew to be true. “I did it for my children, for my family!”

“Your family of one, Chrysalis,” the voice all but hissed. “You are a creature of selfishness; a coward. You take your pain out on those around you, punishing those who do not hurt as you do.”

Chrysalis opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Again, this cycle continued, her mouth opening, but yielded no voice.

“You are a monster, Chrysalis. You have suffered greatly, something I will not deny, but the direction of your suffering is where you become a monster.”

The voice then went quiet, and Chrysalis thought it had left, until it returned, far softer than before.

“But, through your sin, and through your anger, I still see a hint of good. I cannot forgive what you have done, nor can I forget the pain you have caused, but… but you remind me of somepony who was once consumed by the rage of within. You created your own demon, one that you let loose instead of facing, just like the other. They were given a second chance, and you have shown that you deserve one too.”

Chrysalis listened intently to the voice, her anger towards it pushed away with curiosity.

“I grant you the power of judgement, now. At the end of the hallway is a door, one that will allow you a second chance at life. You may take it if you chose, or you can wander these halls for the rest of your life, haunted by your sins instead of working to move past them. Your fate is now in your hooves, Chrysalis… I await your decision.”

And like that, the voice was gone. Chrysalis looked to the end of the hallway, and she was surprised to see a door standing resolute at the end. She then turned her head to look down the other side of the hallway. This side did not have an ending, instead went on forever, as it had done since she had gotten here. Every single door pulsed, beating with a ghostly heartbeat. All called for her to enter, all called for her to relive her sins and live with her punishment.

Both side beckoned for the queen to follow, both equally as strong. For once, she felt like she had power in the ghostly void. She had a choice, a choice between redemption, or repentance for her sins.

“Choose, Queen Chrysalis… Choose!”

Part: 6

A choice. This was a foreign concept to the fallen queen. All her life, she had felt like her actions had been weaved by the invisible hands of fate, their malicious sense of humor forcing her from one hell to another. She was free, had been free since the moment she hatched, but even still the queen felt like it was not her who guided her movements.

That was, until now.

For once she didn’t feel the tug of the invisible strings, their master held at bay, or forgotten. To her right stood a door, an ending to the torturous hallway of long since buried memories and phantoms of her past. She wanted to take it, to be free and start a new; get a second chance to not make the same mistakes. But, as much as she wanted it, she couldn’t help but turn to her left, the endless hallway of the awaiting door and forgotten sins awaited her. As much as she wanted to escape, something inside of her held her back, telling her that she didn’t deserve to be set free. It was a quiet voice, but a powerful one.

Chrysalis whipped her head from side to side, the jerking motion enough to make her head hurt. The choice was tough, fear of her fate and fear of the unknown gripped heavily to her blackened heart. If she was to escape, what life would there be for her? She had no hive, the Equestrians considered her a war criminal, and all others who she could possibly turn to would either run away in fear, or charge her in anger.

The choice was clear.

With heavy, slow hooves, Chrysalis turned to her right, head down low as she trotted towards the endless hallway, carved from the endless pain she had caused. Slowly, the doorway began to fade behind her, her escape disappearing as she denied herself repentance, choosing to pay for her sins through remembrance.

But, something was off.

Chrysalis had expected to be immediately sucked into another memory, forced to relive her past. But, instead, each silenced as she passed, their proximity almost forcing them back into a dormant state. Her hooves continued to trot forwards, her pace quickening as she tried to catch one of the still alive doors.

After a while, the queen skidded to a stop, her hooves immediately gripping knob of one of the doors as she desperately tried to pry it open. It didn’t budge, nor did the next three she tried. Her heart raced, fear gripping it as her brain tried to discern what was happening. As she went to try a forth, she stopped as she noticed something else. Turning, the changeling’s eyes went wide in panic as she looked down the length of the hallway.

It was empty.

The ghosts that had once crowded the hall were now gone, not even a trace of their presence was left behind. Chrysalis began to pant, hyperventilating as the feeling of loneliness finally began to sink in. The former queen had prepared herself for the eternity of watching her mistakes, but this was something she was not prepared for.

“Hello?!” Chrysalis screamed, her eyes shifting from one side of the hall to the other. “Where is everyone?! Come back, please! Don’t leave me!”

The queen ran from one door to another, trying and failing to pry at least one open. When she gave up with the handles, she began to bash herself against them, using her front and rear hooves to try and break them down. She threw herself at the doors, the result only bringing her pain, as nothing she did seemed to even affect them.

Finally, after her will had faded, the former queen threw herself to the ground, her holed hooves pressing into her eyes as she began to bawl, sadness beyond anything she had felt thus far broke her down from within, her will and hope crumbling with every silent second, and when the walls finally crumbled, and the once proud queen finally broke, she slumped to the floor and wept.

Silence returned to the world around the fallen queen, the only sound that could be heard was the soft hiccuping as the queen released her pain in the form of tears.

“So... this is the great queen Chrysalis.”

That voice… that voice was one that Chrysalis had not heard in a long while, but one still whom she knew the owner. A part of the former queen wanted to rise from her sullen nature, curse and destroy the one she now knew was responsible for putting her in the positions she now lay.

But, that was only a small part of her.

The queen didn't want to admit it, nor did she want to accept it, but there was no denying that she had been broken.

“What more could you want from me, Mare of Shadows? You have already beaten me—torn down what pride and power I still had and left,” the fallen queen responded, slowly rising to her hooves. Her gaze feel upon the creature that stood before her, the midnight blue alicorn with the mane of the night sky… Princess Luna.

The princess stood impassive in front of the Changeling, her face completely neutral. “I do not want anything from you, Queen. I simply wished to know the true identity of the one who tried to conquer my land; to get to know my enemy before she perished beneath my night sky.” Luna’s words were calm and collected, honed over the years to reveal nothing of the Princess’s true meanings.

Chrysalis scoffed, her head shaking. “You deny me death out of curiosity? You put me through hell because you curious?!” she began, voicing her anger at the alicorn in front of her. “Well, I hope you got what you wanted, then.”

Luna looked to the queen, her mask cracking as her eyes held sadness, something the changeling was quick to notice. “I have seen the struggles of a tortured soul. Your heart is black, but it is not without light. I have see your darkness, I have seen your mercy. I have watched and laid judgement upon you, and I have come to a conclusion.”

“And what is that,” interrupted the once queen. “What have you decided?”

“That you are another who has let their anger, their emotions, and their pain consume them,” Luna began, her mask slipping once again. “Once I fell victim to the demons that I had created, but I was saved and given another chance even when I did not deserve one…”

Chrysalis watched as the princess of the night went quiet, her face falling. She knew that face, a face that held the gilt of the past that would never be forgotten.

“I will save you, Chrysalis, because I was once saved when I fell victim to myself,” spoke the princess, before her body slowly faded into mist.

Moments later, the fallen queen began to feel strange; the gripping cold within her heart began to warm. Chrysalis watched as the hallway of her sins slowly began to shift and fade, as if the world itself was slowly decaying. And as the world decayed, the fallen queen could feel herself get stronger, as if she was absorbing its energy.

Soon, there was nothing left, the world she had just been was now gone, and Chrysalis could feel reality slowly begin to resume. The sounds of frost filled winds filled her ears, the gripping cold of the badlands once again touching her skin. Her body was still weak, but she could feel a new warmth keeping her body going, the grip of death slowly fading away. Her eyes were closed, darkness being the only thing she could see. The changeling slowly cracked open an eye, peering at the world she had thought she had said goodbye too.

A shadow of an outline filled the corner of her vision, an outline she didn't not need to see to know was there. The outline moved closer into voice, and chrysalis felt gently magic grip her weak body, lifting her from the chilled ground. The touch of the magic was warm, and she felt as if she was being cradled as she could feel herself being moved through the air.

It was now that the once queen finally felt at peace, as she closed her eyes and welcome the embrace of another: sleep.

[Reconnection] Part: 1-3

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Part: 1

The sound of my glass slamming onto the solid oak counter filled the ambient noise of bar. "Barkeep, I need another!!!" I mumbled loudly, trying to get the attention of the bartender.

The bartender, who was cleaning a glass farther down the solid oak bar top, sighed as he put the glass with the others on the large rack behind the bar. His horn ignited, and a large, half empty glass of fine, fine whisky floated up in his telekinetic grip. He trotted over to source of the outburst, me, with the bottle in tow. It only took a second for him to make it over towards me, and quickly filled my glass with the sweet amber liquid.

The bartender was an average sized unicorn buck with a black coat and a light grey mane. The bartender sighed, once again, before speaking, "Neon... Look, don't take this the wrong way, but I think you've had enough…"

I groaned, moving my gaze from the counter to the bartender in front of me. I was was a well built grey-blue unicorn stallion with a dark grey mane. I wore a black, colored dress shirt, with a white tie—my black fedora with a white trim sat on the counter only inches away. "Glass, I know when I've had enough, an' I ain't had it yet," I muttered; more annoyed than angry. Don't tell me what to do...

The bartender, Shot Glass, bit his lip, seeming to take great thought in what he wanted to say. After a moment, the black unicorn spoke. "Listen... Me and you go way back, and you know as well as I do that you're an angry drunk..." The stallion paused, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with a hoof. "And we both also know that you aren't the most...stable, when angry..."

Glass looked nervously at me, fearing my response. I returned the gaze, only mine was unreadable, even for the well versed bartender. After several tense moments, I sighed, pushing my half finished glass of hooch towards the buck, which made the bartender relax considerably.

"You're probably right," I said, shaking my head, before returning my gaze to the stallion. He looked considerably less nervous than before, but I could still see how tense he was. I leaned forwards slightly, putting a hoof onto his shoulder. The buck tensed more, but didn't move. I frowned. Shit. "Glass, stop that," I began, removing my hoof from the stallion's shoulder. "I'm not gonna whack you, you know that?" I hated it when Joe's shied away from me, usually out of fear.

The stallion sighed, leaning onto the bar top. "Yeah, I dig," he began. "But I also know you, the real you, so you can't knock me for being a little edgy."

I chuckled, knowing all too well where he was coming from. "Yeah, I guess I can't."

The sound of more patrons entering the bar caught Shot Glass's attention. "Well, duty calls," he said, turning towards the few ponies who had just entered. He gave me a nod, before dumping my glass into the the sink behind him, and walking towards to other customers.

I looked my glass in the sink, before shaking my head. I sat up from my barstool, sliding off and onto the hardwood floor beneath. My hooves made a soft "thud" as they made contact. I turned, grabbing my black fedora from the counter, put it on my head, then walking toward the exit...

Shot Glass’s uneasy form returned as he started at the patrons in front of him. There were three of them in total, all being earth-pony bucks, and all wearing red Blazers. The bartender rubbed the back of his head with a hoof as he spoke. "H-hello, gentlemen... Can I get you anything?"

The middle buck who, along with his blazer, wore a red fedora that matched his blazer. He chuckled slightly, the other soon following his example. The middle buck, who seemed to be the leader of the bunch, spoke.

"Hehe, you know what we want, Glass. Just give us your 'rent' you owe us and we'll be on our way."

Glass began to sweat even more, now, but he tried to put on a confident composure. "N...no! I will not continue to pay you for 'rent'! I worked my ass of to buy this bar, and I don't see why I should have to pay you!"

The middle buck was taken back by the bartender's response, but quickly regained his composure. "Very well, then... Boys?" He nodded to the two bucks besides him. "Please, remind this misunderstood stallion why he has to pay us."

Both stallions nodded in response. One walked up to a nearby table, before turning around and bucking the table, sending it flying. The table slammed into the wall, cracking and creating a large hole in the wall where it struck.

Glass shouted, trying to jump over the counter to stop the buck, but was stopped when the leader of the trio pinned him against the counter.

"You ain't going no where. You're gonna watch as my boys wreck you precious ba-" he was cut-off as his muzzle was suddenly slammed into the counter, a loud "crack!" followed by a scream of pain filled the air, which made the other ponies in the blazer's stop their destruction...

I stood over the leader of the group, balanced on my hind hooves with one of my front hooves on the counter of the bar and the other continuing to press the buck's muzzle into the counter. Think you're hot shit now, fink?! I thought as I removed my hoof, letting the buck recoil and fall onto the floor, holding his broken nose as it gushed blood.

The other two bucks stared in shock for a moment, looking at their bleeding leader, who had managed to hold back the pain long enough to scream, "Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna get him?!"

The bucks shook themselves out of their shock, and began to charge at me. I jumped down off of the counter, waiting for the first buck to come closer. Come on, come to Daddy Neon...

As he got a few feet from me, the buck lashed out with a hoof, aiming for my muzzle. Before he could make contact, I twisted in one fluid movement on my back hooves, making his hoof fly over my right shoulder. I lifted my front hooves up, wrapping around the buck's outstretched hoof, and pulled forward, flipping the buck over my shoulder, sending him flying into a table farther down the bar.

I instantly turned around as I hear the other buck approaching. He, instead of going for a punch like the other, decided to simply ran into me. I didn't react fast enough as he threw himself forwards, slamming his shoulder into my chest. I slid back, pain flaring from from where the buck had made contact. He continued to slide me back until I slammed me into a wall, causing more pain to flare up. Fuck, that hurt! I thought as the buck reeled a hoof back, intending on striking. He didn't get the chance as I slammed my head into his, momentarily stunning him long enough for me to push off of the wall I was press against, tackling the buck in front of me. He slammed into the ground, my hooves slamming into his chest. His eyes seemed to go wide as my blow knocked the wind out of him. I quickly took the time to slam a hoof into his face, striking true. The force of my punch causing him to black out.

I stood up, grabbing my fedora--which had flown off my head when I head butted the buck--and levitated it onto my head. I turned and looked into the large mirror that ran along the side of the wall opposite the bar, straightened my hat, making sure it had the perfect slant. I had figured out a while ago that something simple as the angle of a hat could cause it to me that much more intimidating.

Satisfied, I turned back towards the bar, stepping over the unconscious buck as I made my way towards the leader of the group, who was still on the ground, holding his broken nose. His eyes went wide as he noticed me approaching.

"B-back off!!" he stammered, using the his back hooves and his one front hoof that wasn't holding his nose to slide himself back, away from me.

I stopped a few feet in front of him, looking into his eyes with my emotionless stare. "I think it'd be in your best interest to leave, and not come back, dig?"

The buck nodded frantically, getting onto his hooves and running out of the exit. The buck I'd thrown had gone and put his unconscious friend on his back, and carried him out of the bar.

I let out a sigh, shaking my head, before trotting over to the counter. Looking behind it, I saw the shaking form of Shot Glass. I jumped over the counter, landing next to my friend. He looked up, and smiled when he noticed it was me. I offered him a hoof, which he accepted, and I helped him to his feet.

The Bartender dusted off his coat, before turning to face me. "Man, I owe you big."

I shrugged. "Nah, you don't owe me anything, Glass. You're my friend, and I like this bar, so leaving it to get trashed didn't seem like a good idea." I usually didn't like getting into confrontations when I wasn't working, but today was an exception. I wasn't gonna just stand back and let those idiots mess with my friend's bar, especially since I was beginning to favor said bar.

Glass looked around, and so did I. The damage from the fight wasn't overly bad. A few tables were broken, and there was a decent sized hole in one of the walls where the table had hit, but other then that, it was mostly intact. He shook his head in a friendly smile. "Because of you, I'm pretty sure those bums won't be coming back and the damaged they caused is far less than if you didn't step in. In short: you saved my a shit ton of bits. The least I can do is give you a free drink every once and a while."

I chuckled, realizing that the buck wasn't going to back down. "Fine."

He smiled in return, giving me a pat on the back. "That'a boy. Now, I don't mean to be rude, but I got some cleaning to do," he said, pushing my toward the door. "Come back tomorrow for your free drink!" He said, pushing me out the door before locking it behind him.

I chuckled at my friend's antics. I hadn't seen him in a long time, tonight being the first time I'd seen him in years, actually. The usual bar I went to got busted by the cops not too long ago, and I hadn't even known that he owned this bar until I'd walked in earlier that day.

I smiled slightly to myself as I walked up the stairs and to the actual front door to the bar. Opening the door with a hoof, I trotted outside. I was greeted by the ever-so-cheery sight of the dark clouds above the grand city of Chicacolt. I wasn't too afraid of rain, as the clouds that covered the cities skyline were almost always there, cloaking the dreary city in a shroud of black. I stepped away from the door to the speakeasy, my hooves making clopping sounds they made contact with the sidewalk.

I looked around. Same old skyscrapers, same old clouds, same old ponies, same old city, I thought to myself. The streets weren't overly crowded with ponies, but there were still quite a few walking about, going through their daily routines. It seemed so simple, so plain, so... boring. I rolled my eyes at my lack of chain of thought, and looked down at my watch. Twelve thirty-five... Well, better get on my way.

I merged with the flow of ponies as they walked along the sidewalk. The occasional chatter of conversation was the only other sound other than she shuffling of hooves and usual background of the city. I could hear sirens off in the distance, and chuckled to myself.

I continued to walk along with the herd until I made it to my destination: Bucky's Tower. Now, everyone knew Bucky, and Bucky knew everyone. He was in charge of the city, but not in the traditional government sense. No, he wasn't a mayor, governor, president, or anything like that. He was a king, the king, and everyone in the city belonged to him, even me.

I pushed through the large revolving door to the tower, entering into the main lobby. The lobby was something to behold. The ceiling was high, easily twenty feet or more off of the ground. White columns lines the walls. The walls were covered in many different painting, ranging from simple depiction of fruit, to masterpieces, hundreds of years old. The carpet was a plush read, and felt so soft under my hooves. On the opposite side of the lobby was a receptionist desk with a lightly blue mare with a bright orange mane. She had a cigaret in her mouth, taking occasional puffs as she typed up something on her typewriter. On either side of the desk were golden elevators, with a set of stairs next to the left one.

I trotted up to the receptionist, tapping my hoof a few times on the desk to get her attention. She turned to me, her face holding an unamused expression. "Do you have an appointment?" She asked in a nasally voice.

I shook my head. "Buck contacted me and said he wanted to meet. My name is Neon Light," I said, matter-of-factly.

The receptionist pushed a few papers around her desk, read one, then motioned towards the right elevator. "Yes, the boss is expecting you."

No shit... I thought as I trotted towards the elevator. I pressed the up arrow, and the doors opened with a soft "ding!". Inside of the elevator was a formally dressed unicorn stallion.

"Which floor, sir?"

"Top, I've been requested by Buck himself."

The unicorn nodded as I trotted in. His horn lit up as the doors closed, and the lift began to rise.

It didn't take long until we arrived at the top floor of the building. I tipped my hat to the operator as I stepped out, before trotting forwards and into the office in front of me. The office was huge, to say the least. The far wall was completely glass, giving an almost panoramic view of the city beyond. The floor was the same plush carpet, and the walls were covered in more expensive art and sculptures. A huge desk sat at the far end of the room, with the pony who I was to meet sitting in the desk's chair.

Buck was a decently tall, light grey earthpony. His mane was light black, almost grey, while his cutie-mark was a moneybag. He wore a black and white striped shirt, with a white and black striped tie. Yes, there was a difference.

The earthpony started out of his huge window, the back of his chair facing me. I took a few steps in, before I was stopped by his voice.

"Glad you could make it, Neon." The buck spoke, his voice firm and commanding.

I nodded, though I figured he couldn't see me. "The pleasure is all mine," I responded, trying to sound as respectful as possible. This guy wasn't just my boss, he was the boss.

The large desk chair swiveled as the stallion turned to face me. "You are no stranger to the services I require of you, as we both know, so I might as well get right to it," he began, sliding out of his chair and walking over to me. He stood before me, somehow towering over me, even by being only an inch taller at most. "I require another pony to be... dealt with, at your discretion, per usual."

I nodded, all too familiar with our usual 'business' transactions.

Buck smiled. "Good, good. Your pay shall be the usually wage; half out front, half when completed," the stallion began again, "and due to the... Importance, of said target, I will raise your usual pay by...10%."

I had to hold stop myself from screaming. A 10% increase?! Holy shit! Then it dawned on me. If it's that much... Celestia, who is the target? I was awoken from my mind by a light tap on my shoulder. I shook my head, before looking back at buck. "Sorry, lost in thought."

Buck chuckled. Not a jolly laugh, but almost an... evil one. "It's okay, my friend, we all find ourselves lost in our mind once in a while. Anyways," Buck pulled a white envelope out of his shirt pocket, before hoofing it over to me, which I took in my magic. "Here is the details of the pony I require being dealt with. As you know, I don't want thing coming back to me directly in any way, lest you'll become a frayed thread that'll require clipping, understood?"

I nodded.

Buck grinned. "Good. Well, I wish of you good luck," he turned and headed back to his chair. "Please, contact me as soon as it is done."

"I shall, sir," I spoke as I walked back towards the elevator door. I pressed the down button, which almost immediately opened, and I stepped inside.

"Lobby," I told the operator, who nodded, horn igniting as the doors closed and the lift began to descend.

I stared at the envelope as I held it in front of me with my magic. It's funny how somepony's life can be determined by something as simple as a note in an envelope. It shouldn't be that easy, but it is. I stared at the envelope in front of me, contemplating opening it now. It was just a job, one that I've done many times before. It payed good, and had decent, flexible hours. Surely, a dream job such as that shouldn't be this complicated. All I had to do was open the envelope, do what I am payed to do, and it'd be all over with. It wasn't a pony's life I held in this envelope, only a job...

The lift suddenly stopped, the doors opening. I trotted out of the elevator and down the lobby, exiting out the large, revolving door of Buck Tower. I stepped out into the dismal city and sighed, putting the envelope Into my shirt pocket, before trotting in the direction of home...

It hasn't taken long to get to my apartment, as it was located in a tower not far from Buck Tower. I unlocked the door, and trotted inside. I flopped down on my couch, pulling the envelope out of my pocket, throwing it into the table in front of me.

I sat there for a few minutes contemplating in my mind. I shook my head and picked up the envelope in my magic. I levitated it in front of me for a moment, running threw the last bit of resistance I had, before opening up the envelope. The note inside was brief, all it had was a name, sketch of the cutie-mark, and any special request my client had in mind. This one didn't have any special requests, though, only having the name and cutie-mark of the pony I was supposed to end.

Sapphire Shores. That was who I was supposed to end. I didn't know the exact reason Buck wanted her dead, and I honestly didn't care—it made the job easier. From what I could tell from her cutie-mark, I could tell she was a singer, and the address on the bottom confirmed that as being one of Chicacolt's main concert halls.

As per every job, I had to watch before I struck. It needed find the perfect time, use the perfect tool, and make it so that it was so perfect, it couldn't be connected to either me, or my client.

I looked around my apartment. It didn't have much, to be honest. It was a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment. I never knew why I decided on this apartment, to be honest, it just felt... right. The only thing that set my apartment different from the rest was my instruments. Yes, my job wasn't a musician, but I loved music too much to not continue playing. After all, I got my cutie-mark from my shining talent in music. My collection included a double bass, a piano, a violin, a saxophone and a trumpet. I smiled, knowing that they could always take me away from the world when it got too much, that feeling of security was always welcoming.

But, playing them would have to wait, as I had a job to do...

Three days of watching, three days of planning, three days of strict focus... And today it would all come together.

Sapphire shores was an extremely talented singer, as he had learned from studying her. Her voice literally sounded like an angel's corus in his ears. More the usual he had to remind himself that she wasn't a pony, only a job...

I sat in the back row of the concert hall, waiting for my job to be complete. The sounds of a beam falling, followed by screams of panic, signified that my job had been complete. Out of the chaos that erupted in the theatre, I calmly walked out of the concert hall, and back to claim my pay.

The golden doors opened, revealing the familiar office of my employer. I trotted forward, my hoofsteps casting a somber tone to the quiet office. Buck sat at his desk, looking over some papers in front of him. He looked up, noticing me, and smiled.

"Good. If you are here... Then I take it your job has been completed?"

I nodded.

He smiled, nodding to himself. "Good, good. I would tell you why I wished this particular mare gone, but I know how you don't care for that kind of information." He straightened the papers on his desk, before placing them neatly on the corner. "As promised, your pay had been transferred to your usual account, and I would like to thank you for a job well done."

I nodded.

He chuckled. "You know, you're not good company. Sure, you get the job done, but you're not much of a talker, aren't you?"

I smiled slightly. "No, sir, I prefer to keep my work and life separate. It makes things... Easier, to deal with."

He nodded in understanding. "That's a concept that I take to heart, my friend." He paused, seeming to think of something. "You know... Here, walk with me." He said, putting a hoof on my back, leading me to the large window. We stopped just behind the glass , looking out onto the city beyond. "Tell me, my friend, what do you see?"

"I see... a city?" I said, uncertain to where he was going with this.

"Yes, my city. And it is not only that, it is a machine. It is my job to make sure that it works properly, each part making sure to do what they are supposed to do, when they are supposed to do it.

"You, my friend, are my... Repair pony, of sorts. You remove those gears that don't work quite right, allowing me to replace them with gears that work better, more efficiently."

Buck sighed, putting a hoof to his temple. "Sadly... I have to ask you to remove something quite... Close, to me."

Another job? So soon?

He chuckled, patting me on the back. "I can already see the gears going inside of your head, my boy!!! Yes, I do have another job for you. This time, however, is different... I want you to remove part of my family, one that I feel... Tarnishes my machine.

"I know you don't like details, but you'll have to excuse me for this one time, because I must disclose. She is scum, deciding to pursue... Someone of her same gender."

A fillyfooler? He wants someone dead because of that?

"I know, it doesn't seem like a big deal. But there is more at stake...more than you could understand. Her name is Octavia, my... daughter." He looked solemnly at the ground. "I want her dead, but I want you to make it quick, and painless. Her lover, on the other hoof, I want you to make her suffer..." He scowled. "Her name is Vinyl Scratch."

He turned to me, a mixture of anger and regret filling his features. "I want this done as soon as possible; I want them dead by tomorrow..."

Part: 2

I paced around my room, a mental tirade filling my skull.

What the hell?! It's just a job... just a job... Damn it!!!

I turn around and smash my hooves into my table, the wooden legs giving way, smashing it to the floor. This wasn't usual for me, it never was. I always did the job, no hesitation, no regret, and no second thought. This one... This one was different. I knew why Buck wanted me to end them... but the reason seemed so... Cruel.

I pulled the splinters out of my hoof from my shattered table, winching slightly with each one. A thin trickle of blood rolled down my hoof, reminding me of what I had done. No!!!

I put my hooves to my head, trying to silence myself. It's just a job!!!

I sprung to my hooves, all thoughts pushed out of my mind, and headed into my room. I trotted past my bed, and opened my closet. I opened it, pushing away my hung-up close, and opened the hidden panel behind it. Various guns and weapons hung behind it, the main one being my tommy gun, on the side of said gun were the words: "Chicacolt Typewriter" etched into it's side.

I picked up the gun, feeling it's weight in my hooves. I looked over my weapon... Tool with extreme care. I always made sure to clean it, oil it, and make sure it was in perfect condition; a broken gun's only gonna get yourself killed, after all.

I picked up the weapon in my magic, and disassembled it. I had it specially made so it could be broken down and fit in an average briefcase. After all, can go walking around with this thing on my hip, especially in my line for work. Once the weapon was properly stowed, I picked up the case in my magic, and closed the compartment before making my way towards the door. Buck had given me the address of my... Targets, and said they should be home around this time of day...

301...304...there, 307! I thought as as I approached the door to apartment 307. I stopped in front of the door, paused for the briefest of moments, then knocked.

The room beyond was suddenly filled with the sounds of shuffling hooves and hushed whispers. After a moment of this, the call of a mare with a proper accent replied, "One moment, please!"

There was more shuffling, more hushed whispers, before the door opened, revealing a charcoal grey mare with a jet black mane. She looked a mess, seeming to have just woken up based on her hastily fixed bedhead. The mare took a moment to catch her breath, before answering, "Yes?"

I gave her a polite smile, giving a brief tip of my fedora towards the mare. "Good evening, ma'am. My name is Neon, and I am an affiliate of your... father. Mind if I come in? I have matters that need discussing."

She bit her lip, briefly looking inside. After a moment of brief contemplation, the mare turned back to face me. "Ummm...yes, I guess. I have a... friend over at the moment... do you wish to speak to me alone?"

I shook my head. Of course they would be together… this should make matters easier. "No need, miss, that will not be a problem."

She nodded. "Very well, then. Please, come in."

I trotted into the apartment as the mare stepped aside, allowing me access to the apartment beyond. The apartment was modest in most areas, only having a small kitchen and seemly one bedroom and bathroom. I would’ve expected… more, I guess? A grumble emitted from the bathroom trotted towards the area I assumed was the living room. I turned to Octavia, motioning with my head in the direction of the bathroom. "Your friend, I assume?"

She nodded. "Yes, she's a mess in the morning."

I let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, I myself am not a morning person, either." Damn it, stop making friendly conversation. Distance is key. They aren't ponies, only the job.

Octavia lead me towards a decent sized couch, motioning for me to take a seat. I gave her another polite nod, before sitting. The charcoal grey mare made her way to the kitchen. “Would you like tea, Mr. Neon? Or anything to drink?”

I shook my head. “No, Miss, I’m fine.”

“Very well, then,” the mare replied, trotting from the kitchen with a steaming cup of her own tea balanced on her back. She stopped at an armchair that was opposite me, placed her tea on the armrest, then sat down, turning her gaze towards me. “Now, what is these ‘important matters’ that my father wishes for you to discuss with me?”

I sighed, deciding to get right this over with instead of procrastinating. My horn ignited with it’s magical glow, followed by the soft "click" of the front door's lock. The mare across from me cocked her head, looking at me with confusion.

No backing down now… I thought, shaking my head. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for this.” My horn lit up even brighter, and the mare in front of me was instantly surrounded in my magical aura. She squirmed, immediately trying to scream. She was silenced as I slapped a strip of tape over her muzzle.

In that moment, the bathroom door opened. A white mare with a spiked blue and white mane trotting out. "'Tavi, we need more..." Her voice died as she saw Octavia squirming in my magical grip, eyes wide with fear. The mare stood there for a second, staring at me. Her face changed almost instantly from confusion, to pure rage. She charged at me, her rage fueling her assault.

I easily dodged her charge, countering it by wrapping my hooves around her neck in a chokehold. I twisted, slamming her to the ground and pinning her hind legs with my own. My grip around her neck tightened, her eyes going wide as I squeezed. The mare restrained in my hooves thrashed the best she could, limbs flailing as she tried to escape my hold. Her fight continued until she suddenly stopped, her eyes closing as he limbs went limp. I let go of the mare, rolling her off of me. I stared at the mare on the ground for a second, before turning my gaze to Octavia, who was still suspended in my magical grip.

Tears flowed freely down the mare’s cheeks. Her cries muffled by the tape across her muzzle. She had stopped her protest against my magical grip, seeming to lose all fight. I opened my briefcase I’d walked in with, pulling out a long piece of rope. I levitated a chair from the kitchen table over to us, and lowered the mare in my grasp into the chair before binding her hooves to the chair with the rope.

The mare didn’t put up a fight, instead crying as hard as she could, staring at the mare on the ground. Once I was sure she was secure, I pulled over another chair and picked up the mare on the ground, lifting her up and tying her to the chair much in the same way as the other. Octavia looked puzzled at this, but didn’t stop her crying.

I took a moment to charge my horn, before casting a sound proofing spell around the room. Once I was sure that the room was completely sound proofed, I removed the tape around Octavia’s muzzle with my magic.

“You monster!” she screamed, her eyes still filled with still falling tears. “You killed her!!!”

I sighed before walking over to the white mare. I pressed my ear against her chest, relieved when I heard the soft ‘thumps’ of her beating heart. Thank god…

I turned to Octavia. “I did not kill your friend, only knocking her out.”

Octavia looked perplexed by this, but thankfully stopped crying. “Why, then? Why did you do this… what are you going to do? What is going on?!”

“I suppose I owe you at least an explanation. My name is infact Neon Lights, and I am a hit-pony hired by your father to kill the both of you.”

Octavia’s eyes went wide. “M-My father sent you?! Why?!”

“My job isn’t to know the ‘why’ of it, but your father did give me the brief explanation of it being because of your relationship with the mare next to you,” I said, motioning to the unconscious mare with a hoof. “Weather it be out of prejudice or not, that is the reason he gave me. And again, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” I lowered my head slightly, a look of sadness crossing my features for the briefest of moments.

“You… you don’t want to do this, do you?”

I jerked my head up to face the mare, surprised by her response. I took a moment to contemplate answering. “It does not matter if I want to do it or not. I was payed to do this job, and it is my duty of fufill my part of deal. Feeling are irrelevant.”

The mare looked at me, her expression seeming almost… empathetic. “It does matter. If you don’t want to do the job, then don’t!”

I shook my head. “It isn’t that simple…”

“How the hell is it not that simple?!” she screamed at me.

Once again, I was taken aback by the mare’s outbursts. “It just isn’t, okay?! It isn’t about you, or me! It’s only about the job!!!” I screamed at the mare, rage filling my body. “It’s never mattered about me, or you, or anypony!!! I have to do this, whether I like it or not.” I stomped off, pulling my gun out of my briefcase and assembling it as fast as I could, before pointing it at the mare’s head. She began to continue crying as the hardened steel pressed against her skull. I could hear her pleading, telling me not to do this. I blocked it out. I couldn’t hear her. I couldn’t hear anything. The only thing I could see was my gun, and my trigger. There wasn’t a life that was going to end after this, only the completion of my job.

I was suddenly pulled out of my mind as something slammed into my side, my magical grip on my gun imploding, causing it to fall to the ground. I snapped back to reality, noticing immediately that the white mare that I’d knocked out earlier had, in fact, woken up, and managed to free herself. She stood above me, rage filling her features as she began to throw punches at me. My head filled with pain as I felt some of the them connect before I could react. I pressed my back hooves against the mare’s stomach, throwing her off of me with a mighty buck. The white mare flew back from the force of my buck, hitting the far wall.

I sprung to my hooves, readying myself to fight the mare. To my surprise, she was already on her feet herself, my gun clasp in her own magical aura. My eyes went wide as I jumped behind the couch as bullets began to spew from the gun’s barrel. Hot lead tore threw the couch, barely missing my prone form. My mind reeled, trying to think of what to do. The bullets suddenly stopped flying, and I took the opportunity to jump out from behind the couch. To my surprise, the room was empty. I blinked, noticing the chair that held Octavia was empty. It took me a second to notice the open door before I sprung into action. I used my magic to take a knife from the kitchen, clamping it in my teeth before running threw the door. The brief sight of a white blur crossed my vision at the end of the hallway. I ran after the blur, following it down the hallway and down the stairs to the entrance to the building. I jumped threw the open doors of the apartment building, and was greeted to the site of many ponies milling around the streets beyond. I dropped the knife, trying to locate the mares that had just escaped.

It was no use, they were gone...

I don't know how long I sat at the steps to Buck Tower. It could've been hours, maybe even days, I didn't know. I watched as the pony's walked past me, oblivious to my existence. I kept hoping that, by chance, those two that got away would walk past, and I wouldn't have to face my boss empty hoofed. It wasn't that I was afraid of facing him, more of the fact that this was the first time I'd ever failed a job. I let myself get too attached to them...I should've just took the shot and be done with it. But no, I let the canary sing, and ended up with nothing by her song. Speaking of her song...it was bugging me. I kept thinking about what that mare had said, and I couldn't push it out of my head like usual.

I sighed, realizing that I'd procrastinated long enough, and it was time to face the music...face my boss. I got up on my hooves, straightening my shirt and hat before heading inside. I didn't bother to check in with the receptionist, instead just pressing the call button on the elevator. The mare looked like she was about to protest, but shrank away from my death glare.

The door opened, and I mumbled, "Buck's office." Luckily, the elevator operator understood what I said, closing the doors as the elevator started to ascend.

I kept my mind blank throughout the short trip up the elevator. When the doors opened, I stared at the office in front of me, contemplating turning back, but i pushed that thought into the back of my mind as is trotted into the office. The office hadn't changed since my last visit, Buck even being in the same position behind his desk, staring at the city beyond his window.

I get only a few steps into his office before I hear him speak, "My sources tell me that you've failed me..."

I bow my head slightly. "Sorry, boss..."

Buck's large chair swivels so he faces me, his face filled with disappointment. "You have been perfect: never messing up once... Until now. Normally, I wouldn't care as much, either giving you another chance, or sending someone better. But, sadly, you are the best I have... And I can't have this messed up again. Something was different this time, something happened." He leans forwards in his chair, tilting his head slightly. "So, what happened; why did you fail me?"

Shit... What do I tell him? I thought, my mind racing to think of an answer. My thoughts are interrupted, however, when I hear buck let out a loud sigh.

"You're taking your time to answer. You're either trying to think up a lie, or trying to crop the truth. So...I'm gonna give you three seconds to answer me before I get angry," he said, his voice filled with finality.

"One."

Shit!

"Two."

What do I say?!

"Three!!"

"I don't know!" I blurt out, instantly regretting it, but not showing it. "Boss, I don't know what happened. I had them tied up, a gun against their heads... But, one escaped, pulling my own gun on me. I...I just balked. I let them have enough time to react..."

"So...you balked?" I nodded. "Very well... I feared you'd turned, but I can see it in your eyes; you speak the truth." He put his hooves to his temples, massaging them lightly. "You've put me in quite a pickle, my friend. Usually, I'd make an example of you for failing me... But, then again, you have served me well in the past without falter." He removed his hooves from his temples, and then staring at me with a quizzical look. "Is it best to end the life of one dying of sickness, or watch as they slowly descend? You, my friend, have the sickness... I'll give you a day before I end your sickness, for the sake of all that you have done."

No...this can't be happening... "Boss, there has to be another way. I...I could try and again, and not fail!"

He shook his head. "As I told you the other day: this city is a machine. And, sadly, you have become a part of it that needs replacing. Now go, enjoy the today and tomorrow, because after that you'll be considered my enemy, and you are all too familiar about what I do to them..."

I nodded, using all of my willpower to not throw myself at his knees and beg for another chance. But, knowing buck, it would only make things worse. "I... I'm gonna go now..." I said, turning around and heading towards golden elevator.

Before the elevator descended, I heard buck call out, "It's not personal; just business!!!"

I was a dead pony, and like most dead ponies, I decided to mourn my impending death over the sweet embrace of alcohol. I downed another glass, pushing it toward the quickly growing pile on the bar counter in front of me. I'd left buck's tower... Celestia knows how long ago, and made my way immediately towards Shot Glass's bar. The bartender had seen my expression the moment I walked into the bar, and already had a glass of his strongest whiskey poured before I even sat down. I didn't speak to him, only nodding to him every time I needed a refill.

I don't know how long I'd drank out my sorrows, but I couldn't see straight and the floor seemed to be moving, so I figured that it had to be a lot. I wanted to get up and leave, but my body was having a hard time complying. Shot Glass trotted over my drunken form, looking at me the entire time with a saddened expression. With my mind utterly trashed by the large about of alcohol pumping through my veins, I finally managed to make contact with the bartender. I say 'contact' only because the slur of sounds coming out of my mouth could be hard pressed to be considered words, but the bartender seemed to have enough experience with talking to drunk ponies to understand me... For the most part.

"Glass... I... I have a problem," I mumbled, not managing to move my head from the counter. "I... I got fired from my job, and my boss is going to literally going to have me killed the day after tomorrow."

Glass... Well, he did his best to hide his look of fear and pity as he visually shuttered. He took a moment to think, probably contemplating trying to converse with me in my drunken state. He didn't get the chance, however, as I continued my rant. "Yup, I'm a dead pony. And the best part, the ponies that caused this are probably going to die as well... And I absolutely feel like shit about it!!!" I lifted my head, trying to look straight at the bartender. I think I was actually looking at the wall, but I couldn't really tell—everything just kinda blurred together. "Why should I care that the two who ruined my life are going to die? I mean, it doesn’t even make any sense!!!”

Glass looked at me with pity in his eyes while he gently tapped a hoof comfortingly on my shoulder. “It means that you have a heart, my friend. And I think that the fact you realized it was what caused this whole mess.” I gave his a questionable--well, I was going for questionable, but drunk brain doesn’t want to comply--look as I lifted my head to face him. “I mean… I don’t know. You confuse the hell out of me. You go out of your way to save my bar, putting yourself in danger for no reason but because it was the right thing to do. Then you go out and kill ponies for money. Honestly, I think either you’re heart, or brain, is broken.”

"Well, my brain is full of drunk at the minute, so please ask sober brain for an answer..." I mumbled.

Glass rolled his eyes. "Are you just gonna give up? Because that isn't the Neon I know. The Neon I know would go down fighting!" he finished, slamming his hooves onto the table for emphasis.

I groaned. "What's the point?! I mean, I got the most powerful stallion in the city wanting me dead..." I sighed. "I'm screwed..."

"Damn it, Neon!" he screamed, pushing my off my stool. I fell off, landing in a drunken heap. "I'm not gonna stand here and watch you drink yourself away! I'm not giving you another drink until you promise me that you ain't gonna go lying down!"

Celestia, damn it! Doesn't he understand I just wanna forget everything before I die?! Whatever, I'm too drunk to argue with myself. "Fine! I'll put up a fight, if it makes you happy!" I said from the floor.

Glass rolled his eyes. "Prove it, and then I'll give you drinks for free for the rest of your life."

Hmm... I'm listening... "And how would I go about that?"

Shot Glass smirked. He trotted from the back of the bar over to the far wall. He put his hoof to it, before a soft "click" could be heard, and the door opened. Two familiar mare's fell out, landing in a pile on the floor. They quickly got to their hooves, and game me a death glare.

I chuckled. "You think I'm gonna finish the job while this drunk?!" I said, ending in a hiccupy laugh.

"No," the stallion began. "I want you to protect them."

Is stopped laughing. "You want me to what now?!"

Part: 3

"You want me to do what now?!" I said for about the fifth time.

Shot Glass buried his head in his hooves. "I'm the idiot for trying to reason with drunk you..."

The two mares and taken a seat at one of the tables in the bar, trying to melt me with their stares.

I laughed. "You two are pissed at me because I tried to kill you! Well, jokes on me, because now I'm dead!" I laughed harder.

The white one rolled her eyes. "Honestly, this is the best we could find?" She asked shot glass.

He nodded. "Well, anyone else would either run away or turn you in. Considering he is already a dead-pony, I don't think he has anything to lose."

The charcoal grey mare scoffed. "You expect us to trust the stallion who tried to kill us?!"

Mare had a point.

"Do you have another idea?!" He shot back. "Because it's either him, or nopony. And even though he looks like he's useless, he's actually good at what he does."

"Except with you two, because I completely fucked up there!"

"Shut up, Neon!" Shot Glass hissed.

I shrugged. "Or what? I'm already a dead-pony."

I could hear Shot Glass's hoof smack his forehead. "Would you just shut up? I know you're drunk, but you're usually better than this!"

I rolled over from my position on the floor, staring up and the bartender. "Hey, why are you helping these mare's, anyways?" It was a serious question, one I didn't expect my drunk mind to be able to actually come up with... way to go, brain.

He sighed. "I'm not gonna go into details, but I owe these two."

"Whatever," I mumbled.

The white mare stood up, pissed. "You know what? Screw this! You actually expect him to help us?! He tried to kill us, and if I didn't react, he would've succeeded! Before I go putting me and Octavia's lives in somepony's hooves, I want proof that it's worth it."

Octavia, who had stood up besides Vinyl, nodded. "I agree. From what I've seen, he's just rude and a killer."

Shot glass sighed. "I know it's hard to believe, but Neon does, in fact, have a heart. And when he's sobered up, I actually believe that he will help you two. I'll bet my life on it..."

I puked--"Celestia, damn it, Neon!!!"--then passed out.

I awoke... I don't know how much later. My head hurt like hell, and even remotely opening my eyes also hurt like hell. Wherever I was, it wasn't dark. "Turn off the lights!!!" I groaned. Putting my hooves over my face.

"Look, he's awake!" I hear a voice call out.

"I still think this is a horrible idea..." answered another.

"Hush, you! If shot glass trusts him, then we should," the first responded.

"Well, I'm gonna keep an eye on him anyways."

"If you must..."

"Please be quiet!" I screamed, instantly regretting it as my headache only got worse. I went to roll over, when I noticed something tight wrapped around my front and back hooves. Oh, come on! "Seriously? Did you really have to tie me up?" I mumbled, still trying to keep my eyes shut.

"You did try to kill us, so I feel it's a safe precaution."

"And you kinda tied us up so... Yeah."

Well... Yeah, I guess it's fair, I thought. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. It took me a while to get used to the light, but after I did I noticed that I was laying on a hardwood floor. I couldn't get a good look at the room around me from my current position on the floor. "Um... Where are we?"

A pair of white hooves trotted into my field of view, followed closely by a pair of charcoal grey ones. "Until you can prove that we can trust you, we will not disclose our current location or untie you."

Urg, why do they always have to do this the hard way, I thought as I ignited my horn. I had been tied up a few times before, so untying myself wasn't that much of an issue... Except for my hangover, but that was more annoying than limiting. I quickly got free from my bonds, and stood up. The mare's who were in front of me stared at me, wide eyed. I shrugged. "You really think this was the first time I'd been tied up?"

They looked at each other nervously.

I sighed, taking the time to get a better look at my surroundings. The room that I was in wasn't that large, maybe being about 20 feet by 20 feet. The floor was, in fact, hardwood, and a few boxes and a mattress were all that was in the room. Huh... Probably in some old storage room, I thought.

I turned my attention back to the mare's in front of me. They nervously shuffled in place, their confidence vanishing now that I wasn't either drunk or tied down. I shook my head. "Relax, I have no plans to kill either of you."

Neither of them seemed convinced.

I sighed, again. "I don't blame you for not trusting me, especially after what I almost did to you... but, Shot Glass did have a point: I have no reason to kill you now." Most of last night had become a blur to me, but I did manage to retain most of that conversation. "I don't blame you about what's happening to me... And I'm a dead man anyways, so... Yeah, I'll help you guys."

They looked... Contemplative. They turned, whispering to each other. I plopped down on my haunches, waiting for them to respond. After a few more minutes of hushed whispering between the two, they turned back to me.

Octavia spoke, "Even though this is horribly stupid, you are the only one who can possibly help us..."

"But!" Vinyl added in. "We will be keeping an eye on you."

I raised an eyebrow. "And do what if I step out of line?"

She looked like she was about to answer, before she huffed and looked at the floor.

I nodded. “I thought so,” I began. “Now, can you please tell me where we are?”

Vinyl, the seemingly brave of the two, answered. "We are someplace safe... For now."

I raised an eyebrow. "And where, exactly, is here?"

The white mate growned, obviously irritated with having to deal with me. I don't blame her, honestly. "We are in the storeroom of Glass's bar."

Oh... Well, I probably should've expected that. I nodded.

Octavia, who had stayed extremely close to Vinyl, spoke up. "If we are going to be spending some time with each other, I believe we should at least get to know each other."

I nodded. Considering we were probably gonna be together until we figured out how to get out of our predicament, I figured this would be the best course of action.

[Without the Impossible] Part: 1-2

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Without the Impossible
By: Michael A.

Part: 1

"Twilight!" Pinkie screamed, slamming her hoof repeatedly into the front door of Twilight library.

Too quiet, too quiet!!! Everything is too quiet!!! Pinkie thought, slamming her hoof into the door harder and faster. Pinkie's heart rate continued to rise, feeling as if it was going to pop out of her chest. Sweat soaked the pink pony's fur, making her look as if she'd just got out of the bathtub.

Moments later, the door to the golden oaks library opened, reviewing a very tired looking Twilight Sparkle. "Pinkie," the purple mare began, rubbing the sleep out of her eye with a hoof. "Don't you know how late it is? What is so important that you needed me at this hour?"

Pinkie didn't respond, instead pushing past Twilight and trotting into the library. She immediately began to pace back and forth along the middle of the library's main room. Twilight went to question her pink friend when she noticed Pinkie's state. Her eyes widened, the grogginess in her brain instantly vanishing. She ran over to her friend, putting both hooves onto the mare's shoulders and forcing her to look into her eyes.

"Pinkie! What happened, what's wrong?!" Twilight screamed, staring into Pinkie's eyes. She couldn't be sure, but there was something different about them.

Pinkie sat on her haunches, staring into her unicorn friends eyes. "It's gone, Twilight... It's gone..." she said, her voice hollow.

The purple mare cocked her head in confusion. "Pinkie, what's gone?"

"Everything!" Pinkie screamed, causing Twilight to take a step back from her friend. Pinkie got up onto her hooves, looking around the library, almost as if looking for something. Too quiet, too quiet!!!

"Pinkie," Twilight began, getting back into her hooves and staring at tee friend in confusion. "What do you mean everything is gone? I need you to be more specific—I can't help you unless I understand what's going on."

If Pinkie herd Twilight, she didn't show it. Instead, the pink mare continued to look around. She eventually stopped, shaking her head and yelling, "No, No, No!!!"

Twilight was utterly speechless. Yes, she was used to her pink friend acting strange, but this was different. She didn't seem bouncy, random, or happy like usual. She looked... hollow.

Pinkie suddenly turned on her heels to face Twilight. "It's all wrong! Everything is wrong! My body is wrong, my head is wrong, everything is wrong!" she screamed, slamming a hoof into the ground. She turned to twilight, her face filled with tears. "I need help!!!"

Twilight lunged at her friend, wrapping her hooves around the pink mare. Pinkie fell into her friends embrace, crying openly into her shoulder. "Shhh," Twilight cooed, running a hoof through her friend's mane. "Done worry, Pinkie, I'm sure we'll be able to fix whatever's wrong..."

Pinkie suddenly tensed in twilights arms, her sobs instantly stopping. She pushing herself out from the unicorn's embrace, staring at an even more confused Twilight.

Before twilights could question anything, pinkie spoke, "Twilight, look around you, and tell me what you see," Pinkie said, her voice surprisingly calm and collected.

Twilight looked at her friend in concern, before doing as she asked. She looked around her library. "I see... I see my library; my home. Pinkie, I don't see what this has to do with what's going on wi-" she was cut off as Pinkie began to speak again.

"What else do you see?"

The purple mare blinked. "What do you mean?"

Pinkie's calm composure broke again as she slammed her hoof into the floor. "What do you see?!"

"Pinkie, we need to get you to a doctor," Twilight began, trotting towards her friend.

"No!" Pinkie cried, backing away from her advancing friend. "Don't touch me!!!"

"Pinkie," Twilight began in a soft tone. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I only want to help."

Pinkie shook her head. "You don't understand. You need to understand!" she screamed, before pacing again, much like how she did when she first entered the library.

Twilight stopped, watching over her friend with concerned eyes.

"It's too quiet," Pinkie mumbled over and over again as she continued to pace.

"What do you mean it's too quiet?" Twilight asked.

Pinkie stopped pacing to face her friend. "Usually, everything happened at once; I see everything at once," she began. "But now... Now I don't..." She finished, dejected.

"Wait, what do you mean you see everything?" Twilight asked, happy that her friend was finally giving her something she could understand.

"What I mean is that I can see everything that's happening at once. Not just what's happening, but everything that can happen. I see all possibilities, all connections—everything!" Pinkie screamed, shaking slightly. "You want to know about my Pinkie sense? Well, it's not that I can sense it, it's that I can see it coming. I see the patterns, I see the signs—and now it's gone!!!" With that, Pinkie collapsed, crying into her hooves and shaking.

Twilight ran over to her fallen friend, picking her up and cradling her in her hooves. Pinkie continued crying, shaking in Twilights embrace.

Twilight was at a loss. Her mind was split between trying to comfort her friend and figuring out what her friend had just said. This explains so much, Twilight thought as she continues to hold her crying, pink friend. Pinkie... Pinkie is just... Just a genius? Her brain must somehow be able to run at an almost super pony capacity... But, how is it gone? What happened?

Pinkie's sobs slowly died down until it was nothing more than a whimper. The whole time Pinkie cried, Twilight remain silent, only whispering comforting words to her friend. When Pinkie finally went silent, she shifted in Twilight's embrace to look up at her friend.

"Twilight... I'm scared..." she began, sniffling slightly. "I... I don't feel like myself anymore... Everything is just slow... I don't like it, Twilight..."

The purple unicorn only held her friend tighter, nuzzling Pinkie comfortingly. "Don't worry, Pinkie. We'll figure this out; you'll be back to your normal Pinkie self in no time!"

Pinkie smiled for the first time since she's arrived in Twilight's library. She snuggled herself into the unicorn's grasp more, letting her friends warmth calm her racing nerves. "Thank you, Twilight... You are a great friend..." Pinkie muttered before letting out a mighty yawn and closing her eyes. Soon afterwards, she was fast asleep, her only movements being the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Twilight held Pinkie in her hooves until she was sure she was fast asleep before gently slipping herself away from Pinkie, igniting her horn and gently enveloping her friend in her magic. Quietly, Twilight carried her friend up the library stairs and into her room. She pulled back the covers to her bed and tucked Pinkie in.

Twilight looked at her pink friend, a mixture of fear and unease spreading across her muzzle. She feared for what was going to happen to her friend and still didn't completely know what had even happened. The only thing Twilight knew for sure was that she would be there for a friend, and try her best to fix whatever had happened to her.

Quietly, Twilight left the room, closing the door behind her has she exited. She let out a sigh, slumping to the floor and pressing her hooves to her temples. "Oh, Pinkie," Twilight muttered quietly to herself. "What happened to you?"

Part: 2

“No, no, no!” Twilight screamed in frustration, throwing yet another book onto the growing pile behind her. She levitated another in front of her and began skimming its contents. This cycle had continued ever since Twilight had put Pinkie to bed. For the past few hours, Twilight had been searching through her library’s many books, trying to find something that would give her answers to her friend's dilemma. In truth, the purple unicorn didn’t know what she was looking for. She had so many questions she needed answers too, and the only mare who could answer them was sound asleep in Twilight’s bedroom.

After several more minutes of trying to find answers in her books, Twilight let out an exasperated groan, falling back into the mountain of books she had created. The purple mare brought her hooves and gently massaged her temples. What am I doing? she thought, I don’t even know what’s going on, let alone what I’m even searching for! It was true, there were too many blanks that she needed to be filled before she could even remotely help her pink friend. The only reason she had spent the last few hours looking was because she needed answers, and doing nothing would've driven her mad.

Twilight was brought out of her thoughts when she heard the soft creak of her bedroom door. Turning her gaze, the purple mare saw Pinkie slowly emerge from her bedroom. From a glance, Pinkie did look better than she had last night, but she could still see that there was something different about her friend.

Pinkie slowly shuffled down the library’s stairs, her usual bounce in her step no longer showing. “Hey, Twilight,” Pinkie began, trotting closer her friend who was still laying in the mountain of books. “Thanks for being there for me last night…”

Twilight smiled, getting up onto her hooves and trotting over to her friend. “No problem, Pinkie, I would be the worst friend in history if I would’ve left you alone.”

“Yeah…” the pink pony responded, practically sighing out the words.

Twilight bit her lower lip, mentally pondering if she should wait before trying to get more information about her friend's problem. Deciding that waiting would only make it worse, Twilight spoke, “Pinkie… I know it may be hard, but we need to talk about last night. I’m still confused about what’s going on, and I need more information before I can even begin to try and help you.”

Pinkie nodded before sitting on her haunches. Twilight did the same, sitting mere feet away from her friend. Pinkie looked like she was about to speak a few times, stopping before any words came out of her muzzle. Twilight waited patiently, not wanting to push her friend to respond. After a few minutes of silence, Pinkie finally spoke.

“When I got my cutie-mark… everything change. Before everything was bleak, boring, and dull. The world around me worked through a routine, never varying or changing. But what I got my cutie-mark… everything seemed to speed up. I began to notice things that I never did before. Before, I would look at my sisters and could barely see what they were feeling. After… after I could tell from a glance what they were thinking, how they were feeling, and what was going on. I could tell what needed to happen in order to make them happy; what they needed to be cheered up when they were upset. I thought it was just my special talent telling me who needed to smile, and how to get them to smile…

“But… but then I started noticing other things. It’s… It’s hard to explain, but it felt like I could see everything! I could see patterns all around me; I could see how everything connected! It was like… like I wasn’t seeing what was going on, but rather what was going to happen. I didn’t see a rock simply rolling down a hill—I saw how that rock would hit another, and another, and I could see the landslide before it happened! When I moved to ponyville, it never stopped. I could see how ponies were feeling, and I could see how events were going to happen before they happened!” Pinkie smiled, seeming to be lost in memory. Her smile soon faltered, however. “Then… then the other day I couldn’t see it anymore. All of the patterns, all of the signs—they were just… just gone! I… Everything seemed to go back to how it was before I got my cutie-mark… I felt like I lost something… I stayed in my room all day, hoping that it would return, but it didn’t. I got scared, and when I couldn’t take it anymore I came to you,” Pinkie looked up and into Twilight’s eyes. “Because I thought that if anypony could help me, it would be you…” The pink mare’s gaze shifted from her friend and to the floor, her posture visually deflating.

Twilight had listened intently to her friend, trying to make sure that she took in every detail. When Pinkie had finished, she places a comforting hoof onto her shoulder. Pinkie looked up from the floor, giving her friend a soft smile. The purple mare smiled back. “Don’t worry, Pinkie, we’ll figure out what happened,” Twilight began. “So, this all started yesterday?”

Okay, so at least we have a rough idea of when it happened, that’s a start, Twilight thought, before returning her attention to her pink friend. “Was there anything strange that happened that you feel could’ve caused this shift? Like… did you have any strange dreams? Did you do anything differently? Was there anything that stands out to you?” Twilight questioned.

Pinkie paused for a moment, putting a hoof to her chin as she pondered the question. “I don’t think so,” she began, shrugging. “The day before was completely normal… Well, for me, that is,” Pinkie added.

Twilight’s face scrunched up in thought. Okay… so nothing seems to stand out that could’ve triggered the ‘shift’ as I’m gonna call it. It may be some sort of psychological block… Urg! I need more information! Twilight sighed as she emerged from her thoughts. “Pinkie… I hate to say it, but I’m at a complete loss at what’s going on.” Pinkie deflated again, lowing her head to face the ground. Twilight saw this, and immediately added, “But I’m not going to give up! I’m gonna search around to see if there is anypony else who would have a better idea than me, and if that doesn’t work I’ll write a letter to the princess to see if she can help. Don’t worry, Pinkie, I’m not going to give up on you—we will figure this out together,” Twilight finished, wrapping Pinkie into a hug.

Pinkie returned the hug, pulling her friend tighter in the embrace. The two stayed in the embrace for a few minutes, before Pinkie pulled away, a soft smile pressed on her muzzle. "Thanks again, Twilight, this really means a lot to me."

Twilight nodded, giving her pink friend a pat on the back. "It's what friends are for," Twilight paused for a second. "Speaking of friend, I think we should tell the rest of the gang about what's happening as I'm sure they'd want to know."

The pink earth-pony nodded. "Yeah, I bet they would... Actually, where is Spike? I haven't seen him around at all today or last night?"

"Oh, yeah, he's over at Rarities helping her with... Something. I don't know what, nor do I think he even cared what it was—he just like being with her." Twilight chuckled, thinking about Spike and his obvious crush on her fashionista friend.

Pinkie giggled as well. "Yeah, he's always trying to get her attention."

Twilight nodded. "Yeah, he is. Anyways, I figure that you could go and see how they're doing while I go and search around for anypony who could be able to help you," the purple mare said, smiling to her friend. In truth, Twilight wanted to send Pinkie to Rarity so the pink mare wouldn't be left alone...

Twilight and Pinkie had split ways not long ago, Pinkie heading towards her fashionista friend, and Twilight heading to find someone who could be able to assist her with her pink friend's predicament.

Pinkie Pie trotted towards the Carousel Boutique—Rarity's place of business and residence.

As Pinkie trotted down Ponyville's mane (Yes, that pun is intentional) street, everything seemed different. She didn't bounce while she walked, nor did she stop every second to greet or talk to a random pony. Every once in a while, ponies would glance at the pink mare, confused to see the party pony actually trotting normally. Pinkie never noticed the ponies stares, for once, and was actually oblivious to most of the world.

"Pinkie, wait!!"

The pink mare stopped, turning towards the source of the outburst. A brown unicorn stallion with a black mane ran towards Pinkie, eventually catching up to the mare, practically out of breath. "Pinkie," the stallion began, before having to take a minute to catch his breath. "Excuse me. Pinkie, is something wrong?"

Pinkie tilted the head. "No," she lied, not wanting to bother the stallion with her troubles. "Why do you ask?"

The stallion looked at Pinkie curiously. "Because you missed my party," he began, "and you never miss a party."

Pinkie's eyes went wide. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I completely forgot. I was rather... busy, this morning..." Pinkie said, trailing off before shaking her head. "Anyways, I'll have to reschedule it too... too..."

"Pinkie, is something wrong?" the stallion asked, looking concerned at the pink mare.

Pinkie remained silent, her eyes lost as she mumbled to herself. Suddenly, Pinkie tilted her head, looking up to the stallion. "I... I can't seem to remember the next time I'll be free to schedule a party... Umm," she paused, seeming to try and remember something else. "What is your name, again?"

The stallion was taken back. Not only had Pinkie forgotten his party, which she had planned for him weeks ago, but she also had forgotten his name. "It's Paper Weight, remember? And you schedule a 'Congratulations-for-getting-a-promotion' party for me last week," the stallion said, giving Pinkie a good look over. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Pinkie nodded, putting on what seemed to be a genuine smile on her face. "Yepperonies! Don't you worry, I'll make sure to have your party scheduled really soon, and I'll make sure that it's extra special for you!" Pinkie said, jumping up and down.

The stallion smiled as Pinkie seemed to return back to normal. "Okay, then. I guess I'll see you then," he said, turning around and trotting away.

Pinkie continued to bounce until Paper Weight was out of sight before she stopped and began sprinting towards Carousel Boutique. During her run, she had to hold back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes...

Rarity hummed a simple tune as she pressed the fabric through the sewing machine in front of her. "Spike," she began, stopping the machine so she could be heard. "Would you be a dear and get me more pins? I seemed to have misjudged the amount I required."

"I got it, Rarity!" the unseen dragon replied from the other room.

Rarity chuckled to herself. What a darling he his, and quite a gentle drake. Sigh, I hate to possible lead him on, but I could never live with myself if I were to break his heart, Rarity thought, restarting her sewing machine.

The sound of little feet running into the room caught Rarity's attention. "I got them, Rarity!" Spike called, handing some pins to the white unicorn.

"Thank you, Spike," Rarity began, levitating the pins away from the dragon. "You are such a gentle-drake."

Spike blushed. "T-thanks, Rarity."

The white unicorn smiled, patting the dragon on the head. "What could I ever do witho–" The door to the boutique suddenly slammed open. Rarity jumped, surprised by the sudden noise. Spike, though he would never admit it, jumped under a nearby table.

Pinkie Pie burst through the front door, locking it behind her. She then quickly ran to all of the windows, closing the shades. Rarity watched her friend in curiosity.

"Pinkie," she began, recovering from her earlier fright. "Whatever are you doing, darling?"

The pink pony didn't respond to her friend's question, instead continuing to shut the shades. As soon as she was done, Pinkie ran to the corner of the room, curled up into a ball, and began to cry.

Rarity looked in shock, not used to seeing her usually perky friend upset. After getting over the initial shock, Rarity trotted quickly to her crying friend. "There there," she began, running a hoof through the earth-ponies pink mane. "Everything'll be alright."

Pinkie continued to cry, not giving the mare any form of response other than crying harder, shaking slightly. Spike, who had watched the whole display unfold, slowly stepped towards his friends.

"Pinkie, what's wrong?" he asked, concern filling his voice.

Pinkie's sobs slowly died down until only a soft whimper could be heard escaping her lips. Rarity continued to hold the mare, while Spike sat next to Pinkie, gently holding one of Pinkie's hooves with his claw. After a few more moments, Pinkie finally spoke.

"I-I'm s-sorry, guys," she began, wiping away some of the lingering tears. "I just... I just needed a moment."

"Don't you worry yourself, darling, we will always be here for you," Rarity cooed in a comforting tone.

"Yeah," Spike chimed in. "We'll always have your back."

Rarity nodded in agreement with the small dragon, before returning her attention back to the pony in her hooves. "But I must ask, Darling," Rarity began, "What is it that has you all upset?"

Pinkie spent the next few minutes explaining the whole situation to her friend, who remained quiet and listened attentively. She told them about Paper Weight, and about how she had forgotten his name. Rarity let out a few dramatic "gasps", while Spike remained quiet, not wanting to interrupt the mare's story. When Pinkie finished, she stared solemnly at the ground in front of her, both of her friends sitting not far from her.

"Wow," Rarity began, her mouth hung open. "So you mean to tell me that it's all gone, just like that?"

Pinkie nodded. "Ever since yesterday morning..."

Spike patted Pinkie with a claw. "Don't worry, Pinkie, I know that Twilight won't rest until she finds out a way to get you back to normal!"

Pinkie smiled, knowing all too well that she could count on her purple friend...

[Fo:E - Solar Shield] Part: 1 V.1

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Fo:E - Solar Shield V.1

By: Michael A.

“The road to ruin is paved with good intentions.”

It all happened so fast. I don't know how to explain it, but it felt like I had awoken from a long, dreamless sleep, only to awaken to another dream. I couldn't feel anything. To be honest, I felt like I was nothing. My mind was sluggish and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember anything at all, not even why I was cold in the first place. Was I even cold? I didn't feel warm, but I also didn't feel cold. I tried to get my bearings, commanding my muscles to move… then realized I couldn't feel my body! I began to panic—confusion and fear filling my brain. I couldn't see, I couldn't feel; none of my senses responded. I felt… empty, like I was just mind inside a hollow shell.

Then, it all came back to me.

I felt like my soul had been sucked back into my body. My senses returned, and I could once again feel. Touch, taste, sight, smell; all returned to my in a hazing wave. I could feel something cold on my back, the surface hard and smooth—most likely metal, I guessed. I opened my eyes, only to fall view to nothing not blackness. I could feel, that was a start. Next, I tried to move, by my body didn't respond.

A sudden hissing came from somewhere above me, the sound muffled as if underwater, then was accompanied by a loud whir. The surface I’d been pressed against tilted to one side, gravity pulling me down until I made contact with the floor... or what I thought was the floor, at least. Everything was fuzzy, nothing exact; half of my feelings pieced together through guesswork, inferencing with what I could feel. The "floor", I had guessed, was cool and smooth, though highly uncomfortable. It was now I was finally able to confirm that I did have a body, as it hurt all over from my impact with the floor.

I made an effort to let out a groan, the resulting sound was more of a croak, if anything. I also made an effort to try and move my legs, but they were being extremely uncooperative as well. Figuring that trying to move at this point was pretty much out of the question, I took the time to, instead, figure out what the buck was going on. I let out another whine/groan when I realized that I had landed face-first on the floor, so I couldn’t even see until my body decided to work. And considering that it'd be a while until I could move, I decided to discern what I could from the floor.

My conclusion being that this floor hadn’t been washed in a really, really long time…

After what felt like forever, I finally had enough control over my extremities to roll onto my hooves. My legs wobbled as I tried to stand, my body still barely able to correctly take my brain’s command. As soon as I was sure I wasn’t going to fall back down onto my face, I took a look around. The room around me was dark, the only light coming from a terminal that sat on a table opposite me. Although the rest of the room was in almost completely black, I could still discern some other computer parts and servers that littered the room. Wobbling, I turned around to see what I’d fallen out of. The device looked like some sort of large metal tube with pipes and wires protruding from all sides, the entire contraption seemingly hobbled together and crude. The wires ran along the wall and into the ceiling, and it looked to me as if they were somehow connected with the glowing terminal.

Deciding it would be my first course of action, I slowly trotted over to the terminal, my legs finally able to work without shaking. The screen had a weird logo on it that somehow looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite put a hoof on how. It was of a large, white shield with a golden trim—the inside having the image of a glowing sun. I tapped a few keys on the keyboard until the screensaver turned off, to which I was greeted with a very cruel "please insert password".

“Crap,” I muttered, my voice still sore. With my only source of information to what was going on blocked by a damned “password”, I plopped onto my flank and pressed my hooves to my temples.

Okay, let’s see what I know. I am in a strange room, no memory of who I was or why I was here, and my body felt like it had been beaten to a pulp... joy.

I rose to my hooves and looked around again, looking for some sort of light switch. When my visual search yielded no result, I decided to do the time tested method of feeling around, stumbling blindly through the dark with my hooves outstretched. It took some feeling around the walls, and more trips and bumping then I would admit, but I finally managed to find a switch and flicked it on… only to instantly regret my choice as the room lit up in a burning glow, blinding my vision.

After several minutes of pain, followed by a few minutes of regret, my eyes finally adjusted to the light. Looking around, I was finally able to properly see the room I was currently in. The walls and floor of the room were white, blinding white, while the ceiling was a light blue. Around the room was a scattering of terminals, servers, wires, tubes and various electrical components. The tube that I had fallen out of was connected to two other larger cylinders, smaller tubes running from one to another. Above is was a sign that read, "Subject: Zero."

Subject: Zero…?

I stared at the sign for a few minutes, before realization it me like a sack of bricks. My eyes frantically shifted around the room, trying to find a mirror or something reflective. I eventually spotted a mirror leaning against a wall, running over to it before and wiping off the dust that coated it. What I saw, I didn't expect. I was expecting some sort of weird, disfigured lab experiment or something like that, but I didn't. I looked like a regular, white earth pony. My eyes were a glowing yellow-orange, while my mane was a brilliant gold. I turned to look at my flank, my cutie mark looking strangely familiar.

Huh… wait!

I turned around and practically lunged at the terminal. The damned login screen popping up immediately, practically taunting me.

You son of a…

Suddenly, something popped into my brain. Practically subconsciously, my hooves tapped at the keys, before a screen of random symbols mixed in with random words appeared. Somehow, something in my mind had clicked, the knowledge of how to hack terminals suddenly popped into the forefront of my once vacant mind. I tapped on the keys, my hooves guided not by my conscious mind, but almost if by instinct.

The password was in this jumbled text, I just needed to find it.

After many failed attempts, and having to back out several times, I got it. The password was: "Ambitions."

The screen changes, giving me access to its internal files. There wasn't much—only three, actually. The first was labeled: Subject 0; the next one was labeled: Project Solar Shield; and the third and final was labeled: Failure Notice. Out of curiosity, I selected the file with, what I could only guess, was my name. The file was a bio, of some kind. It said stuff about my physical and mental attributes as well as… magic abilities? I rubbed my head to confirm my suspicion; I didn't have a horn. I scrolled down further and a list labeled “S.P.E.C.I.A.L” came up.

Strength: 8
Perception: 3
Endurance: 10
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 6
Agility: 8
Luck: 0

Huh… I agree with the luck, I commented, scrolling down further to find nothing else. Puzzled even more, I clicked out of that and onto "Project: Solar Shield." This one was an audio file. I clicked on it and was greeted by the sound of a stallion's voice coming from the terminal. The voice was slightly scratchy and filled with uncertainty, but still felt as if it came from authority.

"Is this thing on...? It is? Okay!" the voice began, then cleared his throat. "Welcome to Project: Solar Shield. As you were told during orientation: you no longer exist. This place, doesn't exist. And in the eyes of every pony, what we do here never has, or will, happened."

I tilted my head at this, confused by the stallion's meaning.

"As you may already know,” the stallion continued, “this war is going no where. Neither side is gaining any headway. We win a battle, the Zebra's win one back. At this rate, there may not be any winners, only losers—the war dragging on until neither side has anyone left to fight. And, with this reality in mind, Celestia herself created this program. Our job here isn't to win the war, but to end it. Our job is to create some sort of wall between these two nations, and bring the war to a halt. How we are going to do this, we don't know, and that is why you are here. You have been chosen because of your abilities, and we feel that you may help us achieve this goal of peace. There is no backing out now, and if you refuse you will be... removed. I am sorry for this, but the fate of the world is in our hooves, and personal sacrifice is needed. May the Princesses be with you, and help us stop this."

The recording stopped suddenly, and left me with even more question than answers. War... I remember a war. Details were fuzzy, but I remember that Equestria was at war with the Zebra's... and by what I just listened too, no one was winning. Was that what I was? Was I some sort of war machine? Hoping to get more info, I clicked on the last file. It was simple text document that only read: "Subject: Zero - Failed. Please move all efforts to Subject: Alpha."

Well… that was rude.

I stepped away from the terminal, confused and slightly scared. These ponies were trying to make something that could divide two warring nations, and I had been one of their experiments.

A failed one, I might add.

Slowly, I got to my hooves. I looked around, spotting and heading towards a door on the far wall. I needed to know more about who I was, and what this… place, had done to me, and it seemed like there was nothing more I could do from this room. I trotted to the door and pushed a the large red button on the wall beside it. The doors slid open with a loud creak and a grind of stripped gears. I walked through and was greeted by a long, white hallway. The walls and floor were the same bright white as the others, and the roof was the same blue. The only difference being the vents that littered the ceiling, evenly spaced. Cautiously, I began to trot down the hallway, my eyes continuously scanning for… well, anything. Looking around, I saw that several doors lined the length of the hallway, plaques with project names and status carved into their surface. The plaque above the door that I'd just walked out of read: "Project: Solar Guard – Subject: Zero."

Then something hit me, an absence that I had, somehow, failed to notice until now.

Where was everyone?

When I had first fell out of that tube, I had a feeling that I was alone—the thought of other ponies being here didn't even cross my mind. But why? Where did everyone go?

I fell back onto my flank and slammed my hooves into my temples. This didn't make sense! I knew things, but didn't. It wasn't like I completely lost my memory, rather that they were being suppressed.

I took a moment to try and figure out what was actually in my head.

I know that I'm an experiment. I know that I was part of something called: "Solar Shield," something requested by the princess herself... Wait, princess? Celestia was the princess of the sun... But, how did I know that?

I groaned, frustration finally taking it’s toll as I let out a groggily scream of anger. All of my confusion and anger had finally broke the dam that had been holding them back, and I let out another loud scream… which was soon accompanied by the sound of shifting metal. I removed my hooves from my temples to reveal that the vents on the ceiling weren't actually vents, by turret mounts. I stared down the hallway, eyes wide, as several dozen turrets pointed their barrels at me.

Before I come react, however, and loud mechanical voice echoed throughout the hall. "Intruder identified, please identify or be eliminated!"

“Uh…” I mumbled. “Ambitions?” It was a longshot, as I doubted they would use the same code twice, but it was better than saying nothing… right?

The sound of the turrets magical blasts charging up immediately stopped, to which I let out a sigh of relief. Damn, I can’t believe that actually work–

"Override denied,” the voice boomed out, cutting me off. “Access restricted to God Tier, prepare to be eliminated." The turrets resumed charging, followed quickly by a practical wall of magical blast shot my way.

I closed my eyes as my brain told me to run, but my body didn't comply. Instead, I felt a warm, tingling feeling resonate throughout my body, starting from my hooves and making its way up to my muzzle. The feeling of metal resting against my skin soon replaced, this, followed soon after by an empowering wave of energy. My body reacted again without my consent as I jumped to the side, the magic bolts melting the floor where I was just standing; the urge to run was replaced by the urge to rip those turrets out of the ceiling!

I ran towards the nearest turret, somehow managing to block the incoming fire, the magical beams bouncing off my body as if they were nothing. With a mighty leap, I slammed my hood into the turret, making it explode in a series of magical sparks. I rolled out of my landing and ran towards the next turret.

I continued to move from turret to turret, dodging the magical blasts before ending their existence. When the hall was finally silent, I looked back at the carnage in my wake; crushed turrets and sparking mounts. I felt a feeling of accomplishment... followed then with more confusion. I looked down at myself, raising an eyebrow when I noticed that I was now wearing some sort of... knight styled armor. The plating was mainly white, with streaks of gold lining most of the edges. The multi-plating was rounded, and was much lighter then I would expect for full body plating. Actually, I could barely feel it at all. But, before I could inspect it further, my body began to tingle again. The armor around me started to glow, then sections began to slowly float off and detach themselves. They twirled in the air around me, orbiting me like a satellite, before folding in on themselves. The folded sections then began to flow brighter, disintegrating into golden flakes that preceded to be absorbed into my skin.

I stood there, confused and more than a little creeped out.

Okay… maybe this was the experiment? I thought. They had created armor that was not only extremely durable, but also light as all hell… maybe I was a supposed to be some sort of super soldier, seeing as how I completely wrecked those turrets. But, then again, they didn't seem that hard of an opponent.

The strange feeling of knowing, but also knowing, returned… This was gonna get annoying.

Kicking one of the turrets with a hoof, I walked forwards, watching the sparkling piece of arcane design roll harmlessly away. With one last look, I turned and returned walking down the hall, intent on searching the rest of this floor for clues. But, once again, my search was cut short as just about everything started shaking. The walls hissed dust, lights flickering as they struggle to stay on. The robotic voiced returned, blaring a warning message. Instinct kicked in once again, one I had still to learn the origin of, and I ran down the hall as fast as I could. I didn't know where I was going, or where to go, but running seemed like the only option, at this point.

The tremors continued to grow louder and more severe as I continued my sprint,the floor buckling and cracks spider-webbing their way along the once pristine walls. I kept my course strait, only turning when straight wasn't an option. My lungs burned as the world around me shook, red lights flashing and alarms blaring. I didn't know what was going on, or even where I was going, but standing and trying to figure that out seemed like the worst thing right now.

After what felt like an eternity of running later, I reached a slightly large room that deviated from the usual white and blue color scheme. The front of the room had a large hydrologic door, large Pistons holding it in place. As I skidded to a stop inside of the room, dust falling from the cracks spreading in the roof, I searched around for some sort of control panel. I spotted a large desk with a large amount of buttons and dials, and figure that was what I was looking for. To my delight, button to open the door wasn't actually that hard to spot; the big, red one in the middle seemed pretty obvious. I pressed the button as another larger tremor shook the building, this one I was guessing originated from the door’s opening mechanism. It took all of my concentration not to fall over, to stay on my hooves, as my world shook violently. The door itself shook as the hydraulics slowly creaked it open, to which I didn't wait for it to fully open all the way, jumping through it as soon as it was wide enough for me to fit.

As I landed on the other side of the door, the usual feeling of a metal floor beneath my hooves was replaced with the soft "crunch" of dirt. I didn't dwell on this, and chose to continue running, scrambling to my hooves as I darted forwards. I only got a few meters away from the door before a loud “bang!” assaulted my ears; the world around me slowly fading to black.

I don't know how long I was out, but I eventually came to. My vision was white, my ears were filled with a horrible ringing, and my everything hurt. I let out a groan of pain, trying to put a hoof to my head. When it didn't, I looked down in horror at the large slab of rock that pinned down my left hoof. My eyes widened, heart racing as I feared the worse of my crushed limb. But, my fears faded to relief when I noticed the nice, cold feeling of metal against my skin, and not rock—my armor surely saving my limb from certainly being crushed. Instinctively, I reeled my free hoof back and slammed it into the slab, the metal-plating taking the brunt of the blow. Small spiderwebs of cracks spread across the rock, much to my delight. I hit it again, and again, and continued my pounding until the rock finally split, sending chunks in all directing. I got to my hooves and inspected my freed hoof—the armor didn't even look scratched! Just as I was about to check out the rest of the armor, there was a familiar tingling feeling as my armor, once again, floated before dissolving back into my skin.

Oh, come on!

With a sigh of annoyance, I dusted myself off, my head craning around as I checked my surroundings. Behind me was a large mountain; a large cave that had once been carved into it recently collapsed. Recently fallen rocks lay all around me, burying the entrance to wherever I had just been.

“Well… looks like I'm not going back there anytime soon,” I muttered sadly, my hopes of figuring out the misery of whoever, or whatever, I was trapped beneath a wall of stone.

[Continue more]

I ran towards the town. The sounds of screaming and smell of smoke assaulted my senses. My instinct was to ask somepony what was going on, but that was quickly thrown out of my head as I heard a soft scream exit the burning building to my left. Without though, I ran towards the building. The building looked like a rough, two story apartment of some sort. The door was blocked by a burning beam that must've fallen from the top of the building. I began to look for a different entrance, before I hear the scream again.

Flaming splinters flew everywhere whilst massive wave of heat licked at my body as I crashed through the door. I looked left and right, trying to find the source of the scream. The floor I was on was completely covered in flames, smoke filling the ceiling. I laid low as I searched. I was began to cough as I found a set of stairs leading up to the second story. I ran up the stairs, more flames erupted from the wall. Once I reached the top of the stairs, I took a deep breath.

"Where are you?!" I yelled, hoping for a reply.

My fears that I wouldn't get a response vanished as I hear a soft, almost whisper of "help" coming from somewhere in front of me. I instantly ran towards the sound of the voice, before I found it. Below a slightly charred table was a little orange filly. She stared at me with wide eyes as I approached. I leaned down, trying to get eye level with the little one.

"Don't worry, I'm here to help," I whispered, trying to calm the frightened filly. She shook her head, curling up into a ball. I could feel that the filly feared me, why, I didn't know, but I could feel it. I bit my lip, the reached down and grabbed the filly by the back of the neck and turned towards the stairs. There was a loud crack as a beam above the stairs broke, blocking my way. The filly in my mouth squirmed, screaming as loud as she could. I turned and looked for another exit, before I hear a crack below me. My eyes went wide as the floor below me began to collapse. I instinctively began to run for the only exit I could see: a window.

The stinging pain of glass digging into my coat assaulted my senses, followed by the pain of those shards being forced deeper into my body from my impact to the ground. I groaned, releasing my grip on the filly that I had cradled in my hooves the second I jumped. I looked her over, noticing that, although she would certainly have minor burns and smoke damage, she seemed okay. I smiled, relief washing over my body as I stared at the clouded sky. My vision shifted, however, when the barrel of some sort of rifle suddenly filled my vision.

"Get up, slowly..." a gruff voice suddenly spoke up, the owner, I figured, being the one pointing the rifle at me, and my theory was confirmed moments later when the barrel was poked at my face, again. "Get up!!!"

I sighed, surprisingly calm considering I had a gun pointed at my skull. I slowly shifted my hooves, the pain of the glass shards shifting in my back spreading up my spine. It hurt, but I could take it. I got my haunches, and turned to face whoever pointed the gun. To my surprise, I had more than one gun pointed at me. Actually, a lot more than one gun. About twenty ponies in total, all either unicorns or earth ponies, pointed various firearms at me. The pony who had told me to get up was standing at the front, seemingly in charge of the group. He was a red unicorn buck, his mane a dirty brown and his cutie mark one of a bow tie and a top hat.

Weird cutie mark, if you ask me.

The buck stared at me, murder in his eyes. "You! Before I kill you, would you mind giving the citizens of my town an explanation to why you set it on fire," he commanded, poking his rifle into my head.

I raised an eyebrow. "I… didn't? Look, I just got here, and I don't know who did do this, but it wasn't me." I didn't, right? I didn't remember lighting a fire, but with the day I've been having I couldn't rule out the possibility. Anyways, my response from the stallion was that of the butt of his rifle being slammed into my skull. I stumbled back, putting a hoof to the wounded area.

"Lier!!!" he screamed, cocking the bolt of his rifle before pointing it back at me. "I saw you, we all saw you! You came down from the mountains. We thought you were just a traveler, until you killed our guards and started torching our houses!!!" The buck's rifle trembled slightly, and I was worried that it was going to go off. "You ruined our town, and we want to at least know why before we kill you!" He tilted his head at the look of horror I have I'm in return.

What? Had I really done that? No, I couldn't've… could I? Maybe… maybe that was what I was: some sort of killing machine. I slumped my head, pressing it into the Buck's barrel. If that was what I was, I needed to end myself before I hurt anyone else. "Do it, kill me... I don’t want to hurt anyone else."

The buck took a step back, honest shock filling his features. It only took a moment for him to recover, and I felt the cold steel of his barrel press against the top of my skull.

"No!" a young, gravely voice screamed out, followed by audible coughing.

I lifted my head, seeing the little orange filly I'd saved run to the front of the group, panting. Soon after, a mare, who appeared to be his mother, picked her up and tried to pull her back. The filly screamed, scrambling out of his mother's grasp and running up to me, latching her hooves onto my leg. "No, don't kill him! He saved me, he couldn't be the one who did this!!!" she screamed, making the stallion in front of me take a step back.

I sighed, running a soft hoof threw the little pony's head. "I know I did, little one, but if they said it was me… then it must've been me. I… I don't remember doing this, but I also don't remember much…" I bowed my head. "I don't wanna hurt anypony else…"

The filly looked like she was going to cry, her eyes watering as she stared at me. I felt bad for her, but I knew this was what needed to be done. I was a monster, a failed experiment that even I don't know the full details too. I could be dangerous; I was dangerous. For some unexplainable reason, the thought of my hurting somepony felt me with a deeply seeded sickness, as well as an almost physical pain. I know that feeling bad is normal, but this was something else entirely.

"His cutiemark, his cutie-mark!!! It's different!"

Huh? I raised my head, getting a clear view of the estate filly, jumping up and down, her hoof pointed forwards. I followed her hoof, and saw the golden sun and shield still on my flank. "No, it's the same," I responded.

Suddenly, the stallion with the rifle spoke up. "I’ll be, she's right, it is different."

Wait… what? Okay, now I was confused. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

The stallion put his rifle down, to which the rest in the crowd followed. "Yer cutie mark is different than the one who burned our town; that stallion had a sword instead of a shield.” He shook his head. “Damn, I almost executed the wrong stallion. He sure as heck looked like you, same color and everything, but definitely a different cutie-mark. Sorry about that, and what this filly said was true, and you did save her life, we should be thanking you."

“Uh… Okay?” I was unsure, the entire situation just adding my seemingly non stop confusion. But, I decided to push that aside for the time being, focusing on the present.

The stallion offered a hoof, to which I took as he helped me to my hooves. “There ya are,” he began, nodding. His head then turned to the rest of the town. “Alright! This here stallion is not the one we’re lookin’ for, so please don’t kill him,” he began, to which they nodded and began to disperse.

I took the time to dust myself off again, then reached back and began to pull the glass shards from my back. It stung, and I winced, but it didn't quite hurt as much as I had expected.

“Damn, you’re hurt,” I heard the stallion speak up, to which I raised my head to meet his gaze. “Here, let me take you to our town’s Doctor—she’ll be happy to patch you up, as it was her daughter you saved.”

I nodded, following the stallion and he lead us through the town. Now that I wasn't focused on fire, nor getting shot, I was actually able to give the place a good look over. The houses were all roughly put together shacks, their supports, walls, and roofs made of seemingly salvaged materials. It wasn’t much, but I couldn’t help but admire the ingenuity that had taken.

“As you can see, our town isn’t much, but we’re getting there!” the stallion spoke, his words filled with pride. “Oh! I almost forgot!” He stopped, holding out a hoof to me. “My name is Top Hat, the mayor of this town, Summerville!”

I shook the offered hoof. “Nice to meet you, Top Hat.”

He stood there and stared at me, seemingly waiting for me to say something.

I cocked my head to the side. “What?”

“And you are?” he said, trailing off the question.

Oh… but who was I? I didn’t really know a name, and the only thing I knew for certain was that I was Subject: Zero, not exactly the best thing to call myself. But, on the other hoof, I did have to call myself something.

“Zero,” I spoke, deciding it was as good of a name as any. “Call me Zero.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Zero! Sorry we couldn’t have met on better terms, but you understand our predicament,” he concluded, turning and resuming the trot. “Come along, now. Don’t want you to bleed out in our streets.”

I nodded in agreement, following him. My back still hurt, each step just grinding the broken glass deeper into my back, widening the already gushing wound.

It wasn’t long after that when we made it to what I figured was the clinic. It was one of the larger buildings in the settlement, easily double the size of the average house, but the most discerning difference was the cobble-together Ministry of Peace logo on its roof.

Ministry of Peace… now that was something else that was familiar…

The mayor strolled into the front door ahead of me, immediately screaming. “Hacksaw! We got another patient for you!”

“Hacksaw?” I asked, making sure I heard her name right. “On second thought, I think I’ll do it myself…”

“Don’t let the name fool you, dear, I am excellent at what I do,” spoke a mare as she trotted into the room. Her coat was pink, her mane a light blue while her cutiemark depicted a bone and saw.

Yeah, that wasn’t helping.

The mare trotted up to me, noticing the shards sticking out of my back. “Yikes, I need to get those out a.s.a.p!” She turned and pointed to a cot. “Lay on your stomach there while I go and get my tools.”

I was hesitant, but I did as I was told and trotted over to makeshift bed, brushing off the fact that it was covered in dried blood.

Just don’t think about it…

I slowly lowered down, resting myself on the lumpy material. I then closed my eyes and tried to let myself just rest for once, the whole… however long it’s been since I was, uh… woken up? had been a complete drain on my mentally and physically, to which I embraced this moment of quiet.

“Oh, it’s you!”

Well, silence broken. I turned slightly to spot the filly from earlier, bouncing lightly a few feet to my right. I chuckled, only able to smile at the adorable creature. “Yeah, it’s me,” I began. “How’re you feeling?”

She stopped bouncing, letting out a stream of coughs. I winced, at the sight, feeling horrible that a filly that young had to deal with something as painful as smoke damage. Soon, she stopped her mini coughing fit, wiping her mouth. “Not that good… my chest hurts to breath sometimes, and I cough a lot…” she began, her head held low, before perking back up. “But! Better than if you hadn’t saved me.” She gasped. “Oh! I never thanked you! Uh, thank you!”

I chuckled, reaching out a hoof and patting her mane. “No problem, kid.”

“And thank you from me too,” I heard the voice of the doctor call out, her outline coming into view, balancing a bag of medical tools on her back. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost her.” She stopped to nuzzle her daughter, pushing her back with a hoof. “Now you run along now, Mommy has to work.”

The filly protested, but obeyed her mother’s wishes, trotting out of the clinic, giving me one last wave before exiting.

Hacksaw shook her head, putting down her bag. “I really do appreciate what you did out there—not many ponies in the wasteland would risk himself for somepony they didn't even know.” She shook her head, reaching into her bag and pulling out a pair of tweezers in her maw. “Which begs the question: why did you?”

I felt her lean over my back, and could feel as she began to pull out the glass shards, dropping them into a metal pan besides the bed. I winced with each pull.

“Well… I don't know,” I admitted. “I heard somepony in trouble, so I helped out; doesn't seem like something that should be all that shocking.”

The mare chuckles. “Yeah, you would think, but most ponies these days don't have that mindset, which makes me think you are not from here.” She stopped to pull a larger shard from my back, one that my eyes went wide as I saw it clink into the metal pan. “So, where are you from, then? Stable?”

Stable? “No? I don't think so, at least. To be honest, I've only been awake for a few hours now, and I can't quite remember anything other than that.”

The mare stopped, dropping from my back and looking me over. “What do you mean ‘awake?’” she questioned.

I shrugged, not sure how to explain it any other way. “I mean just that: I just, well, woke up. The earliest thing I can remember is being toppled out of some sort of tube… thingy, and after that I was in some weird laboratory or something.” I shrugged. “Soon after that the entire place collapsed, and, well, I came here after that.”

The mare looked me over cautiously, and curiously. “You came from the mountain?” she question, sounding doubtful. “Everypony we’ve sent to try and salvage from that place almost gets killed by it’s damned security system; even after three hundred years that thing is still kicking.” She trotted back and resumed pulling the glass from my back. “It sounds to me like you were one of the unlucky pre-war ponies to be subjected to some sort of weird experiment.” She pulled the final piece from my back, reaching into her bag and pulling out a bottle of some shiny liquid. “I wonder what they…” she suddenly paused, taking a step back.

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?” I asked, looking up to see her gazing at my back with a mix of wonder and shock.

“I… Uh… N-nothing!” She began, rushing forwards and pressing her hooves hard into my back. “I can fix this!”

What? She can fix what? And why was I feeling… Sleepy. My eyelids slowly began to get heavier, and I looked back to see a practical waterfall of blood dripping down from where her hooves pressed into my back. The mare was frantic, trying to stop the bleeding as she reached into her bag. I tried to watch longer, but it was getting harder to hold up my head, and I felt it slowly lower to the mattress, my eyes closing as I could feel the embrace of sleep call to me.

Blissful sleep.

“Shit, fuck! No, don't you bleed out! Fuck!”

“Oh… Crap, not another artery. Fuck! Where are my fucking tweezers!”

“Okay… That seems to have stabilized… Wait, no!”

I could only listen as I was slowly pulled from the grip of reality, the world fading to black…

For the second time since I had awoken, I opened my eyes from the embrace of unconsciousness. Luckily, this time I didn't feel anything crushing me, nor the cool metal feel of my armor, so I took that as a good sign.

With a groan, I opened my eyes, only to close them as an irritating sting spread up my spine from my back. I grit my teeth, letting the feeling run it course, before fading to a dull throb. When it was manageable, I opened my eyes again and looked around, seeing the darkened interior of the clinic. I also looked around me, spotting several empty blood bags, bloody gauze, and bloody, well, everything. If what I remember was correct, the ‘good doctor’ had pulled out a shard that had been severed a major artery, and since I was still alive I could only imagine that she had been able to rectify her mistake before I bleed out.

With another groan, I tried to rise to my hooves. I was shaky, but still able to get up. My back hurt, my head hurt, but it all felt like a dull throb, at this point. Well, more than that, but it was still manageable.

Apparent I had been loud enough to get somepony's attention, as the sound of hooves across wood trotted my way. Soon, Hacksaw entered the room, her eyes going wide at the sight of me as she rushed over.

“No! Get back down on that bed right now! You’ve lost a lot of blood and you shouldn't be doing anything right now!” she commanded as she tried to shove me back onto the mattress.

I complied. “Okay, doc.”

The mare calmed once I returned to the mattress, her worried expression changing to relief. “Thank the princesses you’re awake—from how much blood you lost I feared you had slipped into a coma.” She blushed. “Sorry about that,” she added.

I shrugged. “No harm done…” I winced, a wave of pain filling my body. “I hope…”

[Fo:E - Solar Shield] Part: 1 V.2

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Fallout: Equestria - Solar Shield

By: Michael A.

“The road to ruin is paved with good intentions.”

“Just tell me the first thing that comes to mind, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good!

“Dark?”

“Light.”

“Quiet?”

“Loud.”

“Warm?”

“Cold.”

“Hmm… interesting.

“Death?”

“Evil.”

“Violence?”

“Unnecessary.”

“War?”

“Failure.”

“Innocent?”

“Defend…”

“Very good!

“Subject is responding to conditioning as planned, phase two is now ready to begin!”

Feeling. It was the first thing that came into my mind.

Touch, smell, taste, sight, sound.

I felt none.

Darkness was my sight; null was my touch. All senses that should have existed, didn't. I felt hollow, empty, a consciousness floating without a tangible form.

I was scared.

Not only did I feel hollow, but also alone. There was nothing… I was nothing. Where (or, even, what) I was remained a mystery, one that I was helpless to solve.

Memories.

I tried to think, I tried to remember, but like the void I was, there was nothing. I could remember the basics; the fundamental pieces I would need to survive, but nothing further.

Fear.

The only thing that could breach the void, the feeling gripping my minor existence like a vice.

Sight.

It came to me, breaking the void. It was bright, real bright. Sight came to me in the form of a pure, blinding light. I felt no pain, nor discomfort, but I felt as if I should.

Sound.

Garbled, bubbling vibrations flooded my mind. It started off soft, as if the source was way in the distance, but it began to grow, as if it was getting closer.

Taste.

Sour, real sour. I would have recoiled if I had a body. It was horrible, the sensation repulsive.

Smell.

Rot. That was what it smelled like. Decay and death; a pungent odor that made me feel sick, even worse than the sour taste that that flooded my mind.

Touch.

Pain. It wasn't a foreign concept; the feeling oddly familiar, and I found that comforting, in an ironic way. It didn't grow, nor slowly increase over time.

No, it flooded in like a broken dam.

I would have screamed, if I had a mouth. It felt like I was being ripped apart, piece by piece, and then squashed back together.

Then, I felt my body.

Hooves, ears, muzzle, mouth… body. As the pain faded, it was replaced by the feeling of discomfort. It was strange, going from nothing to something—a feeling that cannot be put into words.

My sight cleared, the light fading to a darkened shade of gray. It was still pure, the color like an imposing wall taking up the entirety of my vision. I could feel my extremities, the newly gained limbs confusing my mind as it tried to relearn how to use the peripherals.

I could feel the responses from my body, feel what it felt. I felt wet, my entire body surrounded by some strange liquid. What exactly it was, I didn’t know. I could also feel tubes attached to me, poking in uncomfortably into my chest and down my throat. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t pleasant.

Then the sound became clear. The garbled vibrations I heard earlier faded into a more comprehensible rhythm, the sound pulsing, and loud. It sounded almost like a buzz, though the reason for this, I believed, was from the interference of the liquid that covered my body.

Then I began to tilt.

I could feel myself rise, inertia trying to keep me in place. I tried to move, but my mind had not yet learned how to control my limbs. Then, I stopped, feeling myself completely upright. I prayed my vision would clear, that the wall of color would give way to a clear picture of my surroundings, but it didn’t.

There was a muffled hiss, followed shortly by the tug of the liquid as it was drained. I could feel it wash free from my body, flowing down until my entire form was free of the foreign substance.

Then I fell.

My body toppled forwards, my muzzle and chest smashing into a hard, flat surface. I felt pain. Pain from the impact, and pain of a body that had not moved in a long, long time. My limp, unresponsive form slowly melted into the floor until I was completely sprawled out.

I remained still.

I lay motionless for what felt like hours, my body refusing to move.

Then a twitch.

My right hoof was the first thing I could control, the limb flicking gently as I tried to lift it. Soon, after constant effort, it began to move more accurately, the limb responding correctly to my commands. My left hoof followed suit, then my hind left, followed shortly by my hind right. My brain slowly regained control of all extremities, and I tested each for proper response. My mouth opened, coughing on the tube that was still lodged deep down my throat. I could breathe with the tube in place, though not without some discomfort. I wanted to remove it, to rip it out, but I feared what would happen if I did.

The grey had finally started to fade from my vision, the fog clearing as darkness took its place. Lifting a hoof, I brought it to my muzzle and in clear view of my recovering eyes. It was white, pure white. It was a labor to move, my entire body feeling as if it weighed a ton, so I had to wait a minute before I had the strength to turn my head to observe the rest of my body. I was white, white as my hoof, and I could only grimace at the mess of tubes that protruded from my body, colored by the strange liquids they carried, their origin leading back to the area I had fallen from.

They would have to be removed.

I laid my head back down, recovering from my trivial exertion. My mind was the only thing not limited by my fleeting strength, and I used that to my advantage. I strained to remember all that I could, to gather as much information I could, and then use that to piece together what I could about what was happening. I had no memories, recollections of the past. What I did have was knowledge, information about the world around me. I remembered the basics: how to breathe, how to walk, and all of that, the rest consisted of what I would imagine as common knowledge.

Then I thought about my situation, piecing together hypotheses based on what I had observed. I was a pony; that much I knew. I had fallen from something, something filled with a sour liquid. The tubes connected to me, I guessed, were for the injection of the substances my body needed to live: food, water, and everything in between. Other than that, I wasn’t sure. I could guess, but with what I was given, there were too many variables I needed to fill.

I needed to get up.

I let out a groan, the resulting sound more resembling a hiss. Slowly, and carefully, I rolled myself onto my chest, getting my hooves underneath me. I paused, letting myself rest, then pushed with as much strength as I could with my hooves, my body rising as I got to my hooves. I wobbled, my strength giving out soon afterwards as I stumbled back, my body slamming into something as I fell back to the floor. Again, I hissed. I looked down to see the fresh holes in my chest. I bled a mix of the once connected tube’s liquid and blood slowly trickling from the newly created wound. It was a steady stream, but not one that I had to be worried about. I felt pain. The only familiar constant spread from my hooves to my head. It was a dulled pain, but pain, none the less.

Before I tried to rise again, I decided to deal with the tubes. I closed my eyes, wrapping my hooves around as many as I could, and then pulled. The feeling was excruciating, feeling like I was ripping a part of myself out with it. I didn’t waste any time and moved my hooves to the one currently still down my throat, taking an even deeper breath as I slowly pulled it out. This one wasn’t just painful, it was just wrong. I could feel it travel up from my stomach, then up my throat, and finally out my mouth.

I vomited.

I curled up on my side, my stomach purging it of its contents. Heave after heave, I felt more and more void itself from my body. Even when my stomach was finally empty, I still coughed, dry heaving again and again until my throat hurt.

When it finally stopped, I caught my breath before I screamed. It was more of a loud groan, but it still voiced my pain. No words came out, only a scream of pain. I had held it in, dealing with it as it came, but now I had a way to vent it, and I took advantage of it.

My scream slowly faded to a groan, then to a whimper, and finally silence once again reigned around me. I was still weak, and I was certain another attempt to stand this soon would end just set the first. But, at the same time, I didn't want to do nothing.

I rolled back onto my stomach and held back a his. My underbelly burned from where I had forcefully removed my unwanted tether from the unknown machine, but I bit it back. I steeled myself and took a deep breath. This time, I only pressed up with my front hooves, and I rose to a seated position. I almost immediately began to fall backwards, but was, thankfully, caught by some unknown source.

Gently, I leaned back further into the surface that had stopped my fall. I winced at every movement, but eventually found a relatively comfortable position.

My eyes looked forwards, but only an abyss of black lay ahead. It was dark, but I could still see tiny packets of life shine out from random points beyond. I tried to see through the void, but couldn't make out anything in the low light. I let out a shaky sigh, only to let out a painful cough. I looked down and focused on my body. Blood slowly dripped from a mess of open gashes from where I had forcefully removed the tubing, coating my entire underbelly in a dark red hue.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to remove them all at once… I thought as I leaned back and closed my eyes. So much had happened so quickly and barely left me with any time to process.

Well, I had time now.

Basics… let’s start with the basics. I thought. I don't know my name. I don't know where I was. I don't know who I was…

I let out a sigh and gave my head a shake. Never mind… I’ll save this for later.

I pushed off from the wall and back into my stomach. I felt stronger, somehow. It wasn't much, but I felt it was enough. Carefully, I positioned my hooves and pushed upwards, carefully getting to my hooves. I shook; unsteady, and uncertain. But, despite this, I was up, and that was all that mattered.

Step by step, I trotted forwards, letting my mind get reacquainted with walking. I used whatever it was that I was leaning on for support as I slowly made my way forwards, each step sturdier than the last. Finally, after much practice, I let go of my support, and stood on my own volition. I was still shaky, but I was at least able to stand without the fear of falling again.

One step at a time.

My eyes blinked as I tried to see through the darkness that surrounded me, the only light coming from the soft glow of red lights that the marked the perimeter of wherever I was. I could see what faint, blurred outlines of what was around me; a mixture of shapes and colors too distorted for me to discern.

On shaky hooves, I trotted forwards. I wasn't going to know anything while standing still, nor did I feel like I could keep it up for much longer. I may have been stronger then when I had first tried to walk, but I still wouldn't consider myself in top condition. Step after step, I trotted forwards, occasionally bumping into something, and using its edge to guide myself around it.

I was afraid.

Darkness and the unknown closed in on me from all sides. Fear of what would come; fear of what I couldn't see; fear that I would be trapped in the dark forever; fear that I would be alone.

Suddenly, I bumped into something different. Everything else had the feel of cool metal, while this felt more like glass. Focusing, I gazed at what was in front of me, able to make out the shape of some sort of glass tube. I balanced myself on three hooves, using my free one to feel around the object in front of me. My hoof brushed over something that felt like a button, and I pressed it.

I shouldn't have pressed it.

My vision filled with a blinding light that caused me to fall back and onto my haunches. I lifted my weak hooves and rubbed my blinded eyes. The pain eventually faded, and my vision returned, and when I looked up a second time, my mouth hung open in pure shock.

A pony, the same color as me, floated inside of a giant glass tube. His body was connected by an array of tubes, just like I had been, that all protruded from parts of his skin. The sight was strange, alien even, but still piqued my attention.

I slowly rose back to my hooves to get a better look. I looked over the container, noting the construction. The top and bottom had metal plates that acted as its bases, while a control panel, of sorts, lay connected to its side. The entire tube lit up from lights pointed directly inside of it, breaking the void of darkness that had once surrounded me.

I trotted forwards, getting a better look.

The pony in the tube looked peaceful, and almost as if he was sleeping. His golden mane floated carelessly in the liquid that filled the tube, his eyes peacefully closed.

As I continued to gaze, I noticed the subtle reflection in the glass’s exterior, and it took me a moment to realize it was my own. Curiously, I looked closer, gasping at what I saw. I looked exactly like the stallion floating in the tube in front of me, and easily could have been an exact copy.

I shook my head, pushing away the questions that had begun to build up. There were already too many. To many things I needed answers for, too many blanks that needed to be filled.

What I needed now was answers.

Using the light from the tube, I looked around. On one of the walls besides it I could spot a switch, and I trotted over it in hopes it was for the lights. I closed my eyes and flipped it, the room glowing behind my closed eyelids. Slowly, I opened them, letting my eyes adjust to the light. When they were, I looked forwards, and once again stood in shock.

It wasn't just one stallion in a tube. At least a dozen tubes holding stallions that looked just like me lined the wall I was facing, each one suspended in a seemingly peaceful sleep. It was hard to comprehend, and I could only stand and blink at what I saw.

After a few minutes, I was able to shake myself from my stupor. I took another look at the wall of tubes, looking them over more carefully. I hadn't noticed it before, but each had a plaque above them with a label. In a line, they read ‘Subject: One’, ‘Subject: Two’, and so on. There were twelve ‘subjects’ in total.

I gave the room a look over now that there was light. The room was square, with the tubes taking up the entirety of the far wall. The two walls flanking it were completely covered in blinking electronical components, flickering electron tubes, and massive wires that connected them to each of the ‘pods’. Turning around, I got a glimpse of the rest of the room. Tables filled with medical equipment, electronics, and other stuff I couldn't put a label on lay in the center of the room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all white, strongly clean beyond belief. Behind the center tables was a single empty pod, this one having the label ‘Subject: Alpha’, hanging above it.

I… I think that’s me.

I trotted over to the pod, stepping over my pile of vomit, and finally stopping in front of the still bloody tubes on the floor.

That was where I was… I was one of them…

Questions. Just more questions. No answers, just more that I needed to know. I feared that, at this rate, I would end up forever wandering in confusion.

No, I need to keep going. There are answers; I just need to find them… somewhere.

I turned and trotted away from my pod, heading towards the only terminal I could see in the entire room, the screen blinking with a green glow. Once there, I sat on my haunches and began tapping on the keyboard, scrolling through the menus.

It seemed this terminal was the master control for all the pods in the room, each one selectable on the first menu. Curious, I clicked on the first one, a status menu scrolled into view.

Subject: One.

Status: Deceased.

Cause: Mechanical failure.

My eyes went wide, turning to the first pod. The stallion inside didn't look dead, but he also didn't look alive either.

I backed out and checked the next pod.

Subject: Two.

Status: Deceased.

Cause: Mechanical failure.

I backed out again, switching from pod to pod, getting the same result: ‘deceased.’ I got to the last pod… mine.

Subject: Alpha.

Status: Released.

Caused: System Override.

My lips curled into a frown and I hopped off the terminal, turning to look at the pods with an expression of sadness. I was alive, somehow, but they weren't.

More damn questions.

I took a deep inhale of breath, letting it out slowly. I turned away from the pods and stood up on my hooves, my eyes instantly falling on the only sliding door in the room. I trotted over, the mechanism opened and allowed me through. I was feeling better. Stronger, even. I couldn't say I felt normal, yet, but I was getting there.

The hallway I trotted into had the same all white color scheme as the room I had just been. Red lights shone from the edges of the ceiling, giving the walls an unsettling red hue. My hooves led me forwards and down the hall, but my gut told me to stay put. My eyes flicked from white wall to wall as I looked for anything that could be considered a threat. Shadows danced, mundane objects took the most menacing of shapes, fear ruled over my mind. I didn't know where I was going, nor even where I was in the first place, so I just trotted forwards, stopping only when I hit the first door. This one was slightly larger than the one I had just walked out off, but the main difference was the large plaque that read, in gold letters: ‘Conditioning and Programming.’

I ran the name through my mind, hoping it would bring up something. To my dismay, nothing came to mind. With a shake of my head, I trotted inside, the door opening upon my approach.

The inside was… strange. Like the hallway, it was illuminated only by the soft glow of red tinted lights that lined the top corners of the walls. The room itself was broken up into six different smaller rooms, three to my right and three to my left, with an area in between. From what I could see from here, each room and a door and a window that you could view the interior from. Outside of each room sat a terminal, all but one (the one on the left side closest to the entrance) dark.

My hooves lead me to the only active terminal. I plopped my flank down in front of its green glow and immediately tapped on the keyboard. To my delight, it didn’t seem to be password locked, and allowed me access to the information it stored. Scrolling through the files, I found that they were all audio logs, labeled by session number and subject identification. I didn’t see any that belonged to Subject: Alpha, so I picked one at random and pressed play.

“Condition session number twenty von; test subject number three.”

The voice that played was foreign, my mind telling me that it was a Germane accent.

“Subject’s progress had been… less than expected. Although he appears to be accepting the aggression repression treatment quite well, subject does not have the same results with submission training. His actions have been… sporadic, unpredictable. We have had far more success with other subjects, but I digress.”

The voice paused, the recording static as I could hear a door opening, then closing. There was the scraping of a chair against the floor, then the sound of someone sitting down.

“Ah, subject three, how has it been?”

A new voice, one that sounded gruff and hardened, spoke up. “Good…”

“Good to hear, good to hear! Now, I must question why you have hesitated during you last training run in the simulator?”

There was a pause.

“Ehem! I believe I asked you a question, yes?”

“I didn’t agree with the orders.”

“Ah, so you believed that your way was better, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Well… this is most disappointing. Subject has failed to follow orders on one too many occasions… It appears reconditioning is in order.”

I heard a gasp.

“No! Please, no! I-I’ll follow, I promise!”

“Subject also appears to show weakness… Yes, reconditioning is in order.”

I heard the door open again, followed by at least two sets of hooves trotting in. It sounded like there was a quick struggle, followed by a loud ‘zap’ and a thump, then the sound of dragging. The door finally shut, and I could hear a groan from the original stallion.

“Why is it so hard to crush the will of the subjects? Can't they see that submission will allow them optimal conditions? Perhaps a restructure of the program is in order… Yes.”

The recording ended there, and it only left with more questions. I flipped to another recording and pressed play.

“Condition session number five; test subject number three, batch five,” chimed in the same stallion from before.

“Current batch of subjects had been far more successful than the first. A restructure of conditioning program could be responsible for this, but I digress. Current subject has been responding to treatment as planned; results seeming to be the most successful yet!

“Although, I do question the effectiveness of a non-aggressive series of specimens. Although they have proven to adapt to the program better than the aggressive branch, I fear that the end result will prove far less efficient than the latter. But! I digress. Current subject has appeared for conditioning for routine examination of mental state and… and… oh no.”

The recording went silent, then the sound of a door opening brought forth an unnerving gurgling sound, one that reminded me of choking.

“No! Subject is experiencing an extreme muscle spasm; it appears that the muscles in the throat have stopped responding. Cause unknown. Treatment being administered.”

The gurgling suddenly stopped.

“Nein! Subject seems to have succumb before treatment could be administered… Shame, subject showed so much promise.”

The recording stopped, and I immediately played another.

“Condition session number… thirty five; test subject number six, batch… five.”

The stallion sounded less… enthusiastic than in the other recordings, his voice sounding tired.

“Like others, this batch had failed to yield results in the desired range. Previous one has finally succumb to the same condition as the second—cause of which is still unknown.

“Subject six has been able to yield acceptable results, but still not within the realm of what we desired… We fear that the Solar Guard project will be terminated if results are not yielded soon, to which will yield months of research useless!”

There was a crash, followed by what I could only imagine was the stallion in the recording letting out his frustration on anything he could find. Soon, I could hear him calm down, followed by the door opening.

“Why do you not yield proper results?”

“What?” questioned a different voice, one similar, but still different, than the first ‘subject’ I had heard speak before.

“You do not respond as we have predicted; all calculations have been correct, but you still have not responded as predicted. Why is this?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Ah! That is the problem! Nopony can tell me ‘why’?! Why must my research be haunted because you cannot act as planned? Why must I waste my time on you? Are my methods wrong? Does the problem lay in the batches? Tell me, subject six, why?!”

“I-I don't know, sir!”

A sigh. “Perhaps we are being too relaxed in our methods… Yes… Subjects do not respond to regular treatment… So we must use irregular treatment. Yes! The answer is so obvious! I must readjust program immediately!”

“Sir, what do you mean?”

“Oh, yes, almost forgot about you. I believe that I have found the flaw in current program, and will thusly correct said problem. Sadly, you are already tainted by failure, and are no longer needed.”

“Do you mean?”

“Yes. Now, off you go.”

I heard the door open again, and the same struggle and ‘zap’ from before followed, then dragging.

“Ah, yes, this should fix issue…”

I could only stare at the screen in disbelief, confusion and horror filled my features. That had been the last recording on the terminal, and I desperately wanted to know more. I stood up, trotted over to the closest door, and opened it. It had been about what I had expected. Two chairs on opposite side of a single metal table were the only things in the room. I backed out of the room, closing the door. I then checked the other terminals in the room, finding that they were either broken, or not powered, as they didn’t respond.

I began to shudder.

Something happened here, something that seemed to get more and more confusing the more I learned about it. What had been project Solar Guard? Was that what I had been a part of?

[Fo:E - The Lessons We Learn] Lesson: 1 - Luck never Lasts

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Author's Notes:

Description: When you live as long as I have, you tend to learn a few things. It's not just the information you learn in school; science, math, history. No, you learn a lot more about life, lessons that can only be taught and fully comprehended through experience. But, there eventually comes a point when these lessons, these experiences, eventually all fade together, the next just being a variant of a previous one. Day to day becomes routine, uniqueness of each day slowly rotting away like the skin on my bones, and through all of the lessons I've learned, one in particular has always stood out. It was always there, it didn’t take me more than one lifetime to discover it, but it took years upon years for it to finally sink in, and become undeniable.

That lesson: everything will eventually come to an end.

Cut Scene:

“Momma?!”

No… dear princesses, no!

“Momma!”

I keep my hooves pressed hard against the mare’s chest, her bright blue offspring sprinting from the back room and wrapping her hooves around her mother’s neck. I could only watch and slow the process as I pressed my hooves down as hard as I could.

“Shhh… don’t cry… don’t… cry,” came the weak words of the gun merchant, her weak hoof reaching up and running down her daughter mane.

I had seen death. I had seen slaughter. But nothing had been as worse as watching a child watch the life drain from her mother’s eyes. I wanted to save her. I needed to save her. But, I knew it was a lost cause. When you had killed as many as I had, you knew when a pony was going to die. I had seen it in the eyes of the mare that had her brains blown out in front of me. I had seen it in Blood Bath’s and Skull Crusher’s face when I had ended them. And I saw it now in the once carefree mare’s eyes as she held her daughter with her dying strength.

The mare’s eyes turned from her daugher to focus on me, and she didn’t even need to speak as I knew what she wanted to say. It was in her eyes. They held hope, and practically pleaded with me. “Take good care of her…”

Then nothing.

My bloody hooves slowly rose from the mare’s chest as I watched the last bit of fight in the mare end; the last bit of life in her eyes fading. For a moment, I was stunned. Everything went numb as I watched the tear filled filly cry into the lifeless embrace of her mother.

The floor rocked, the sound of another of the mine's Kind Shot had thrown exploding, more shrapnel digging into the shop around us and chunks of wood splintering down on us. Slowly, I picked my revolver with my muzzle from where it had fallen.

Five plus one made six.

The now still filly remained in her mother’s embrace, now forever bonded. I didn’t have to do it. I could have tried to take her with me. But, I knew that the chances of me getting out alive were slim as it was, and I knew what these drug fueled monster did to little fillies.

Notes: Couldn't get anything that I liked to stick.

Fo:E - The Lessons We Learn

By: Michael A.

Lesson: 1 - Luck never Lasts

“The road to ruin is paved with good intentions.”

When you live as long as I have, you tend to learn a few things. It's not just the information you learn in school; science, math, history. No, you learn a lot more about life, lessons that can only be taught and fully comprehended through experience. But, there eventually comes a point when these lessons, these experiences, eventually all fade together, the next just being a variant of a previous one. Day to day becomes routine, uniqueness of each day slowly rotting away like the skin on my bones, and through all of the lessons I've learned, one in particular has always stood out. It was always there, it didn’t take me more than one lifetime to discover it, but it took years upon years for it to finally sink in, and become undeniable.

That lesson: everything will eventually come to an end.

As I wander through this land day in and day out, I do not traverse without the fear. I know fear, more than most. Fear does not disappear with age. Honestly, age only clears the fog of ignorance about fear. I know fear, I know of death. I have seen their power, of death and fear, and watched as one, the other, or both has taken countless ponies away from me. I have accepted that my time will someday come, that I will eventually join those that have been taken away from me, but that does not mean that I will go willingly. Whether it is because fear what comes next, or simply the fact that I am a coward, I still fear death.

I have heard stories of the thought of immortality, myths of being that could live forever. They are all just that, myths. No matter how hard you try, not matter what you do, death will always follow, and he will eventually come for you. Everything that has ever been, and that can ever be, always will have two things in common: a beginning, and an end. Nothing truly lives forever. Some may live on longer than others, but even they will eventually come to an end, dying or slowly fading away into nothing. Our princesses, once thought gods, died. Our old ideas of peace and harmony, well, that died too. I will die, you will die.

I have walked with heroes, ponies and other creatures alike, who have achieved feats thought impossible, sacrificed their greatest gift of life so that others may live on, or simply selflessly devoted themselves to an idea, a concept, that was greater than they were, for the good of far more than themselves.

They died.

They have all died. I've watched heroes die for a belief, then watch as that belief slowly died just as those who created it. I have held love ones who I have made promises too, and then watched those promises eventually fade away as they had. Friends, family, even ponies around me; I have watched them all die.

I am not a hero, I am not a villain. I merely exist. I will not save the Wasteland, nor will I destroy it. I will only wander this hell-trotted land, my purpose forgotten, my fate erased. The only thing that keeps my body from falling down and joining the fate of the dead, is my fear of that day.

My name is Silver Lining, and these are the lessons I have learned.

----

My hooves trot carelessly against the cracked asphalt, the sound of them clopping against the weather worn surface breaching the dead silence that surrounds me. I look up, my tired eyes scanning the long since covered sky.

It’s daytime.

The only way that I even know that it's day is because of the small, fleeting bit of light that manages to penetrate the thick cloud blanket that lays over my head. The concept of day and night has slowly lost meaning since the fateful day I became a ghoul… the day the world ended. My new, mutated body has lost the need for sleep. Most think of it as an advantage, never needing to stop and rest, always being able to be alert, but I know better. Losing the ability to sleep means that I have lost the ability to dream, the one time that I could truly escape the reality of the day, with the comforting embrace of the night. Now, I am forced to accept what my life, and our world, has become.

My pace slows as I glance back, watching the scampering shadows of entities that wish to remain unseen. I return my head forward and shake it as I let out a long, raspy sigh, my rotting vocal cords garbling my once gruff voice. My hooves stop completely, my body standing still in the middle of the ruined streets of the once beautiful city of Chicacolt. To be honest, I wasn't in the mood for this. I was never in the mood of this. My will of simply ignoring my stalkers had finally come to an end.

There was no use in running from Raiders, even when you are only walking.

I pivot on my hooves with practiced ease, the seemingly empty street behind me coming into full view. "Next time you try to tail somepony, to leave the twitchy one behind," I speak aloud, just loud enough for my unwanted traveling companions to hear, but not enough to attract the attention of anything else.

Soon the sound of hoof meeting head, followed soon after with a cry of pain, breach the quiet atmosphere, and giving me the general direction of where my stalkers were. As tenacious and brutal as Raiders can be, intelligence has never been on their list of strengths. I had honestly lost track of where they were a few miles back, but their predictable nature made it easy to discern. After all, there's always a twitchy Raider.

Eventually, after a few more minutes of silence, two stallions jump out from behind an overturned skywagon, their hobbled together armor coated in blood and gore. The one to the right had a coat of a dirty green, his main too dirty and stained to discern a proper color. The other one was orange, his mane somehow still yellow, though barely. A rusty cleaver and spiked board held in each one's mouth respectively.

I committed their faces to memory, just incase. "Bounty or sport?"

The green one turns to face the other. "Rotty’s got a price on ‘is head?"

That answers that question. I was always curious to see if anypony had put caps on my head. It's not like I went around giving ponies reasons to, mind you, but the Wasteland doesn't always need one.

The other one Raider shrugs, his red-tinted eyes flickering from side to side. Looks like he was the twitchy one. "I-If he does, t-that just means that we have to k-keep his head in one peace!" His eyes flickered to me with murderous intent.

I gave them my most intimidating stare, kicking my duster aside to reveal my holstered .44 magnum strapped at-the-ready on my front hoof. "Tell me your names," I say, ready to draw at any minute, just incase one of them decided to be jumpy, which Raiders usually were.

Both Raiders looked at each other, before shrugging. The orange one spoke up first, showing that he was the dominant of the duo. “Well, rotty, t’name’s Skull Crusher, and t’s here’s Blood Bath.”

“Very well.” I nod. “I will only warn both you stallions once, and advise you to back off.”

Once again, Blood Bath and Skull Crusher turn to face each other, this time laughing as they turned and began to advance towards me.

I shook my head. Why can't Raiders just give up?

The Skull Crusher lunges at me, his cleaver dangerously close to me as I take a step back, to dodge the dangerous swing. My instinct kick in, ingrained reflexes from years of practice. I lower my muzzle with incredible speed, bring up my right hoof to meet it halfway. My jaw clamps down on the gun’s bit, and I pull it out of its holster. My aim is automatic, the iron sights lining up with my target with almost no effort. My tongue twitches, the hairpin trigger firing. My vision went red, the Raider's head disappearing in a red and white cloud, blood, bone and brain flying everywhere. I watch through the red haze as the rest of the Raider’s body falls lifelessly onto the ground, skidding to a stop at my hooves. I waste no time and point my gun’s smoking barrel at the remaining Raider, who had stopped his charge upon seeing his friend’s head reduced to mere smoke.

"Leave now, boy," I mutter through the bit. "Don't made me do this again."

The stallion stood there in shock, probably trying to process what had just happened. Finally, he shook his head, switching back to reality. He reaches down to pick up the nailed board that had fallen from his slack-jaw, intent of trying to finish the job his friend could not. But, he doesn't get to it, though, his head exploding in a cloud of red spray and brain matter as his lifeless body joins his friend on the ground.

With a flick my head, the chamber of my .44 opens, ejecting the two spent shells. I reach into my ammo pouch that rested on my side and pulling out replacement rounds, reloading the trusty revolver and returning it back to it's leather sheath on my front hoof.

I take a deep breath, wiping some of the brain matter that had gotten on my duster off before turning to face the bodies of the recently departed. I made sure I could remember their faces when they were still attached to their body. I could practically see them standing in front of me when I closed my eyes. I shook away the thought, and went to work looting the corpses.

Blood Bath and Skull Crusher. Two more to the list.

I had managed to salvage a small amount of of caps that the twitchy one had been carrying, along with a bit of scrap metal that I could salvage from their armor. I could’ve gotten more if I sold the armor outright, but I never liked selling Raider armor. Only one type of pony would actually buy it, and I didn’t want to aid the ponies who always tried to kill me. I thought it common sense, but I appear to be the only one to realize this.

Once I had picked the two clean, I wiped my bloody hooves clean on one of their barding, then turned away to continue my journey. I had been on my way towards a little trading town in the northern edge of Chicacolt before I had picked up the two unwelcome shadows, planning on restocking supplies once I had arrived; ammo, healing potions, and materials to repair my barding.

The sound of my hooves trotting against the cracked earth and the overwhelming silence returned, and I found my mind slowly drifting off into space as I resumed my journey. This was common for me; my body running on autopilot as I traversed the wastes. I had been around just about everywhere in the Chicacolt area, wandering around the vast city ever since the megaspells fell. I knew the city forwards and back; where the settlements were, the locations of common Raider dens, ambush points, areas of high radiation, and so on. I had also been able to watch the city evolve as time went on. I watched gangs rise and fall, ponies who called themselves ‘heroes’ try and ‘save’ the city from the blight of evil, moments of peace, moments of violence, and so on. All the while I had just watched, never participated.

My war ended a long time ago.

Over the years I had evolved as well, both in appearance and in mind. My body rotted, but my mind stayed sharp. Years of practice and experience had trained both my reaction time, and instinct. I could spot danger before it happened, almost as if I could sense it. This was what allowed me to live for so long, survive the dangers of the Wasteland that I called home. I knew where it was safe, and I knew where it was dangerous. I avoided danger, steering clear of it the best I could. Some call it being a coward, but I call it being smart. I had already fought my war, ‘dying’ for my country, so I felt my service had already been fulfilled.

My appearance had also evolved over the years, constantly changing as I better adapted to the land around me. My barding consisted of an old, worn black duster, modified with armor plating sewn into the lining, with a matching black cowboy hat. My decayed skin was wrapped from muzzle to hoof in a thick layer of greyed bandages. My face was almost fully covered, only my muzzle and eyes free from their tight grasp, my glowing orange eyes peeking through my hidden appearance. The holster for my .44 was tightly latched to my right front hoof, my faithful gun resting in its grasp, while a sleeve for my combat knife lay on the left. Two more holsters were strapped respectively to my two hind hooves, my spare twin .44 revolvers in their grasp. On my back lay my saddlebags, the right side organized to hold everything I would need on a moment's notice; unspent ammo, reloading materials (primer, lead, and powder) and spent shells in their respective pockets, while healing potions, my journal, and other items I needed quick access to were organized in much the same fashion. The left side was much less organized, holding my salvaged and other bulk items I didn't care to keep easily accessible. Around my neck where the dog tags I had been given when I had served in the equestrian army; a solemn reminded of the like I once had.

Time passed relatively, hours feeling like mere minutes as I continued along my well established route. With no need for rest, and fatigue never making its presence known on my mutated body, travel had become a mindless experience for me. Although my mind wandered, my senses remained sharp. Never did I let my guard down, a crippling unease filling my body the moment I did.

My focus returned to reality, my conscious mind taking control as my unconscious receded. I look around and take in my surroundings, the sigh of northern Chicacolt coming into view. This had once been the residential district of the city, home to most of the natives of the city. Now, however, it was a ghost of it’s former glory. Long since abandoned apartment complexes, and the toppled remains of buildings line the street. The once well maintained road now lay in ruins, cracked and ravaged by the damaging effects of time. Empty sky carriages and other forms of transportation lay sporadic along the road, remaining in the same position since the bombs had fallen.

And then, there was the bones.

Bodies were a common occurrence in the Wasteland. Charred remains of long since dead ponies killed from the original blast, or new one who had joined them in the hell that followed.

I stepped over the skeleton of a unicorn, it's gender and identity unknown.

It was always better to not think of them, to just ignore their existence. Pain and sorrow only followed when you focused on the dead. And princess know there is already enough of that in the Wasteland…

I shook my head, banishing the thoughts from my mind as I returned my focus to the road. I snaked my way through the particularly dense area of fallen skywagons and cartridges, briefly looking them over for salvage. They were empty, just like last time I had passed them.

Once I made it free, the first signs of my destination came into view, the far off view of ‘The Hive’, coming into view. The hive was a trading hub made from connecting four adjacent residential complex set out in a square pattern. The complex had been established about seven years ago, and slowly grew to the economic giant it was now. If you needed anything, anything, you could find it here. It was called The Hive because it was like a little colony, almost completely self sufficient. In more ways than one, it was impressive.

I continued forwards, the distant shadow of the trading up growing as I got closer. Soon, I found myself staring up at the front gate, twin automatic turrets following my approach from their mounted positions. The entrance consisted of a large, hoof made metal door connected between two of the closest towers. Above, walkways and platforms jotted from the sides of the quad buildings, some on their own while others adjoining. Even from outside I could hear the buzz of life from beyond the metal barrier, the same sound that had given the place it's name.

“Hey! You there!”

I looked up, focusing on a blue unicorn stallion poking his head from behind the gate, a rifle held next to him in his magical grip.

“State your business, or get shot!”

It appears that they got a new gatekeeper. “Here to restock and trade,” I said plainly, trying my best to hide the gargle of my ghoulish voice.

The stallion seemed to regard me for a moment, his rifle still pointed directly at my head.

“Well… you seem harmless enough,” he began, putting the gun down. “Okay, you’re in. Just remember: you break the rules, you get shot.” And with that, the stallion’s head poked back behind the gate.

It was a few moments before I heard the rumble of the gate’s opening mechanism, the hobbled together system groaning as the large double doors swung open, allowing me entrance.

My hooves guided me past the threshold. Even after all the other times I had entered the hub, it still took my breath away every time I endered. The entire complex cut off from the outside by large metal walls built from building to building, leaving a ‘plus’ shaped area. This walled off space consisted of several shops and merchants set up around the commons, ponies from all parts either peddling or buying goods. In the center of all this stood a crudely put together honeycomb made from scrap, the official symbol for the hive. Looking up, I got a view of the many breakouts from the buildings that held more shapes above, as well as several rentable areas and sleeping corners for the locals. Quite a feet of Wasteland engineering, I had to admit.

The layout of this area was a little different than the last time I had been here—some shops had moved, or closed, while others took their place. Because of this, I couldn't rely on memory for where I had to go to get my required supplies, instead having to search to find what I needed. I passed several shops as I trotted forwards, all food based. It amazed me how many different things you could do with the mutated remains of the Wasteland. Too bad I didn't need to eat.

I kept moving, passing several other stores of no interest until I found one I was looking for. I stopped in front of a shop that was actually inset into one of the four building, making it easily the largest in this layer. Above it was an actually well designed sign that read, ‘Point and Shoot’. Simple name, but served it’s purpose. Inside way a vast array of different types of weaponry; everything from beam rifles, to single shot repeaters sat on hooks hammered into the wall. I payed them no mind, as I already had the loadout I needed, and instead heading towards the caged off counter in the center of the store.

“Hello?” I called out into the seemingly empty cage, peaking into the interior.

“One moment~!” I heard a sing-song voice reply from somewhere beyond, and soon a light blue unicorn trotted into view from the back room connected to the cage. She trotted happily, her mouth in a content smile as she approached the small opening I guessed was for transactions. “Welcome to Point and Shoot! For all your pointing and shooting needs! I’m Kind Shot, what can I get you?” she asked, her voice filled with more mirth than you usually saw in a Wastelander.

“As much .44 rounds you got,” I spoke, reaching into my scrap bag and pulling out all the weapons I had managed to salvage and placed them on the counter. “And whatever I can get for these.”

The mare regarded the weapons closely, pulling them through the small hole with her magic. One by one, she checked each, all but completely disassembling them before moving onto the next.

“Hmm… Well, for two assault rifles, three 10mm pistols, one double barrel, and two landmines I can give you about…” She tapped a hoof to her chin. “Two hundred caps.”

I inwardly sighed, hoping for more. I wasn't much of a barterer, so I didn't question or try to haggle.

“And as for .44 rounds. Buddy, you have quite a taste in weaponry, my friend,” she began, trotting back to her back room and returning with a few ammo boxes in her magical aura. “Most expensive bullets I sell besides the 50 cal. But, to each their own.” She shrugged, putting them on the counter in front of me. “Subtracting what you get from your trade in… And at five caps a bullet… and one hundred and thirty bullets in total… you owe me four hundred and fifty caps!” she finished, an all to happy smile on her muzzle.

I practically flinched at the price. I had the caps for it, don't get me wrong, but I had expected it to be, well, cheaper. I reached into my bag and pulled out a few bags of caps. I tossed them through the opening and waited as she counted every single one of them. Once she was certain I payed correctly, she passed through the ammo.

“There ya’ go, another satisfied customer!” she spoke happily as I put away my new ammo. “And I don't mean to be rude, but… what’s up with the rags?”

I latched my saddlebag and turned to the mare. “Burn wound. Didn't quite heal right, so I just cover it up.” It was a lie, but not everypony was friendly to ghouls.

The mare winced. “Yikes. That explains the voice then.” She shook her head. “Anyways, that was all. Thank you, and come again~!”

I nodded my thanks, then turned to leave, but stopped. “Actually, I have a quick question,” I began, turning back towards the mare. “Do you know where I can get barding repaired?”

The mare nodded, pointing a hoof upwards. “Two floors above me is a shop called ‘Wasteland Attire’ run by a mare called Quick Seme. She should be able to do any repairs you need.”

I nodded my thanks, once again turning and heading out for the shop. A few turns later and I was heading up a set of staircases to the second layer of the hive. Here there were more formal and permanent shops that had been made in converted apartments. They varied from restaurants to specialty shops. Finally, after trotting over one of the bridges connecting the current tower to the next, I made it to Wasteland Apparel. The shop was relatively large, taking up two appartments connected when a wall had been taken down. Everything from prewar dresses to combat armor were displayed on mannequins displayed all around the shop’s interior. I trotted past a few of them, just browsing until I found the owner.

The owner was an extremely tall unicorn mare with a white coat and a dark red mane. She trotted around her store, mingling with her customers. She eventually spotted me and gasped, galloping over to me and stopping.

“Oh, my! You poor dear,” she began, her words filled with drama. “You are an absolute fashion nightmare with those bandages! Here to find something to help cover them up, I hope?”

I shook my head. “No, just need a patch job,” I said, pointing to my duster. “The plaiting needs replacing and there is a few holes I would like closed if you could.”

The mare let out a sigh of disappointment. “Ugh, fine!” she began with an emphasized sigh. “That’ll be fifty caps for the patch job and another hundred for the replacement metal.”

My eye twitched.

“Oooor, you could buy some lovely new armor for half the price that would look much better–”

I took off my duster and placed it at her hooves, fishing out the required amount of caps and throwing them on top.

She lets out a sigh, picking up the duster and caps in her magic. “Find… It’ll be ready in about an hour. You can wait in the seating area if you want.”

I nodded as she took my armor away, trotting over to a corner with a few pre-war cushioned chairs. I trotted over and sat in one, placing my saddle bag besides me as I used the time to rest my bandages. I felt naked without my duster, the armored garb had become more of a second skin then just clothing.

With a soft sigh, I leaned back and waited, counting the cracks in the ceiling.

----

An hour passed by like nothing, floating past like a rapidly increasing tide. I eventually got my newly repaired armor and thanked the mare, who had once again tried to convince me to choose something else rather than continue to use my duster. I declined, again, and headed out before she tried again.

The next couple of hours had been spent going from stall to stall restating all the supplies I would need. I was a wanderer in all aspects of the word. Throught the years I had traveled from here to there, no distinction in mind, and no purpose. To be honest, the only thing that kept me going was my fear of stopping. I knew what happened to ghouls who lost their purpose; they went feral. Their minds decayed like their skin, becoming practical zombies whose only purpose was to kill and feed. I feared this happening to me, but I also feared dying. So, I nearly wandered from place to place, restocking what I needed before moving on.

Once my saddlebags were full with what I would need for the next several months, I wandered around the entire complex. I didn't buy anything I didn't need, as I hated wasting caps, but still found simple joy in just looking at what the Wastelanders had managed to create.

It was dark when I had finally toured the entirety of the complex from top to bottom. Shops were closed, and the locals headed off off to their respective homes located at the top of the four towers. Not having the need for sleep, but also not wanting to head out during the night, I ended up sitting with my back against the Hive statue in the middle of the bottom later, my eyes closed as I waited for the time to pass by, and for the day to arrive.

----

About a few hours after The Hive had turned in for the night, I opened my eyes as I felt an uneasy feeling start to build. I raised my head, my glowing eyes scanning the area. I was alone, as far as I could tell. The closest soul I could spot was a guard resting peacefully at his position above the front gate, rifle gripped tightly in his hooves.

What was it?

Through years of experience and trotting this Wasteland, I had managed to gain a sort of sixth sense for sniffing out danger. It wasn't anything magical, more of my mind just got used to the small signs that something bad was gonna happen.

And I was getting one of those feelings.

Sadly, this sixth sense didn't exactly tell me what it was that was wrong, more of that something was going to go wrong. It was my job as the conscience mind to figure that out.

I rose to my hooves, my ears perking up. I could hear something, something distant. It was almost like a faint, high pitched whistle, one that grew louder and louder.

When I finally recognized what that sound was, I was too late to react. Pressing my hooves into my ears, I embraced myself.

Boom!

I felt the concussion wave slam into me as I was thrown backwards, slamming into the statue. My head spun and I gritted my teeth through the growing pain originating from my spot of impact. I open my eyes, the world spinning in a blur of color and sound. I look down, seeing the blurry outline of my holstered weapon. I lead down to grab it, missing three times before I finally feel the bit held tightly in my maw. I draw the weapon, pointing it out straight. There is more than just one blur, many blobs of pony shaped mass flood my vision. I aim towards one, then another, my mind reeling as I try to figure out what to shoot. I hear a muffled, ringing scream, and spot a blur running straight at me. I click the trigger with my tongue, the blur haunts its advance as it falls to the ground.

I close my eyes, trying to focus myself. When I open them, my visions is much clearer, but part of me wished it didn't.

Raiders.

I almost lost my grip on my weapon as my jaw all but drops. Floods of blood covered, frenzied Raiders flood in from the now melted point where the gate had once been. Ponies who I had seen shopping the day before, or making stalls were now fighting for their life. Hot chunks of lead fly in all directions, and I duck just in time to avoid one colliding with my skull.

I breath a sigh of relief, but my breath is forced out of me as something slams into my side, sending shockwaves of pain reverberating up my spine. I cough, spitting up black icor. This is enough to final jump start my brain, allowing me to finally act.

I scramble to my hooves, picking up my dropped revolver, and bolt forwards. I fire off two shots, one striking an approaching rider right in the neck, the other connecting directly into the shoulder of another, ripping the limb from its place.

One plus two is three.

I dive out of the way as another Raider wielding a cleaver swings his deadly blade at my head, his momentum causing him to stagger. I take this opportunity and buck with all my might at his head, sending him down for a second time. My hind hooves barely touch the ground as they rebound off the ground, spinning me to face the Raider. I send one shot off at his head, the bullet splitting it in two.

Three plus one is four.

The air is filled with the sound of combat; screams of pain, rage, and bloodlust mold together in a discorded choir. Bullets, beams of magic, and sharpened weaponry fly through the air, each aimed with the intent to kill. My agile hooves and years of experience allow me to glide through the battlefield, dodging the deadly debris with practiced ease. My tongue clicks and two more time my revolver goes out, a blood stained Raider falling before it could strike the final blow on a fallen local, his body falling limp as the blood of his victims in joined with that of his own.

Four plus two is six.

I holster my revolver, kicking out my left spare and snatching it in my maw. My movements had lead me to the far corner of the mini warzone, pushing me again the farthest wall from the remains of what had once been the gate. I fire off two bullets at incoming attackers, one barely hitting one while the other misses. My intents wasn't to kill, just distract so I could dive for cover behind a nearby stall.

Zero plus two is two.

I take a ragged breath as I am momentarily free from the fight, taking the chance to survey the damage I had sustained. On my right side, just behind my saddlebags, I saw a torn hole in the recently mended fabric, the metal plate beneath dented from the impact of the bullet. I send a silent prayer to the princesses that I had commissioned my armor replaced, as if I hadn't I most likely would have a large hole in my side.

My attention returns to the situation at hoof as I feel someone vault over the cover I was using. My head turns and my revolver lines up perfectly between the eyes of a pony I had recognized from earlier when I was wandering around The Hive. Blood soaked her once pink fur; how much of it was hers I couldn’t be sure. Her eyes go wide, the fear of death showing through her terror filled eyes—a pleading fear that would only show when one knew they were going to die.

And she did.

I watch helplessly as a stray bullet from the fight pierced straight through the wooden stall and travels cleanly through her head. A red spray puffs out as I watch the life drain from her eyes, and then she was gone.

I didn't have time to mourn, nor react. I through myself to the ground as more bullets followed, slicing up my cover as if it had been nothing. Splinters of wood and bits of metal rained down on me as I pressed myself as far as I could into the ground. I felt several bullets ping off of my hind metal plating, with at least one or two managing to miss and dig straight into my hide. I hissed, holding back a scream of pain as I felt them tear into my skin, embedding themselves underneath.

I had to move.

My current cover had become useless, and as soon as the spray had stopped I hopped up and began to dash away. My flank burned from hot metal still inside of my flesh, but somehow still functional adrenalin and my will to survive pushed past the pain as I strafed forwards. I fired three shots, one I know hitting true in a Raiders flank, while I lost track of the direction of the other two.

Two plus three is five.

I dodge the strikes of several frenzied Raiders, one managing a few hits on me as his nailed board made contact with my skin. Pain flares up again, and I send my final bullet into his hind hoof, causing him to fall, weapon rolling from his reach.

Five plus one is six.

I toss my spent revolver into my saddlebag and reach down with my mouth for my combat knife, removing it from its sheath and plunging it into the neck of the wounded Raider. Blood squirts front the wound and covers my bandage-covered face as death slowly overtakes him. I remove the knife and scramble forwards for the nearest cover, spotting the gun store I had bought from earlier. I jump on practiced hooves and I bounded over to the shop, sliding to a halt when I reached the interior. The war continued to rage outside, and I had to press myself against the closest wall to avoid incoming fire. My body hurt, my entire right side throbbing from puncture wounds and the bullets still inside of my skin. I carefully reached down and returned my knife to its place, immediately grabbing my remaining revolver from its holster.

My chest heaves, bringing useless oxygen into lungs that no longer require it. I poke my head out, surveying the carnage so far. Piles of dead and pools of blood fill the once busy bottom layer of the hive. Raiders with Chem fueled rage strike down the defending towns ponies, while they strike back with all they could. The majority of the corpses I could see lacked hobble together armor and weapons of torture and rage, signaling that the invading force was winning. I poked my head back behind cover, closing my eyes as I tried to hold back processing the situation at hoof.

I needed to focus on survival, and only that.

A Raider carrying a bloodied sludge hammer slides into the shop, stopping mere feet away from me. His weapon drips with the essence of his most recent victims, and his eyes hold the promise to add mine to the mix. I ride my revolver, but once again it wasn't me who caused the death of the pony within my sides. His side explodes with a piling of shotgun pellets, his unarmed side flaying open from the force of the impact. Blood and skin peel from his skin as he falls dead, his eyes still staring at me with the same murderous intent.

I turn to the source of the blast, spotting the shopkeeper I had purchased from earlier quickly reload her combat shotgun with practiced ease, a practical constant stream of shells floating from her ammo bag into the weapon. She pulls back the lever and reproving a her gun at the entrance, but her eyes turn to me. Her hooves raise up as she motions for me to come to her, to which I immediately react on. I dive forwards, leaping over the counter and through a newly opened hole to the caged off area behind. I roll out of my landing and back onto my hooves, sliding to press my back against the back of the counter.

I enjoy a moment of peace, taking in as much of the momentary feeling of safety as I could. My head swivels as I turn to the light blue mare, watching as her weapon held in her magical glow fires round after round into the combat area beyond. It lowers only when it clicks empty, reloaded almost instantly by the stream of shotgun ammo she also guides with her magic.

“You! You have any idea of how this happened?!” she asks in a panicked array of words, her voice missing it’s mirth and joy from earlier.

I go to speak, but cough up some more black icor before my mouth would cooperate. “Balefire egg,” I begin with my scratchy voice. “Blew the gate and they just swarmed in.”

The mare’s eyes go cold, her weapon pausing as horror spreads across her features. “How the fuck did Raiders get a Balefire Egg launcher?!” she screamed, her fire continuing. “I can't even get my hooves on one; how can a group of chemmed up freaks get one?”

I shook my head. “No idea. You know where they came from?”

We both flinch as we hear an explosion go off somewhere close to the entrance to the shop, most likely a grenade or mine from the sound of it.

“They look like the gang that hangs out in the subway tunnels a not far from here,” she begins, putting down her shotgun and picking up a landmine with her magic. “We’ve known about them for years, but they'd never manage to even get passed the main guns before, let alone mount any kind of assault like this.”

This was troubling. Raiders were bad, but they were stupid and loosely organized, losing most of their effectiveness as a hole. But, get them working together, and even a small den can become an almost unstoppable wave of drug fueled psychopaths.

The mare tossed the mind over the counter, then primed three more and threw them aswell. “This is bad, really bad,” she began picking back up her shotgun and resuming her spray. “We’ve never prepared for anything making it past the gate… I mean, nothing ever had!” She shuddered. “We’re going to die…”

I wanted to argue, to voice hope, but I knew deep down there wasn’t any. I had been in some tight spots before, times when survival seemed impossible, but even they seemed tame compared to what what happening now. I looked to the mare, her eyes showing her hidden fear as she fired the hot lead over the counter. She was brave, I could see it. She feared death, but she still faced it with a fist full of iron, and fight in her heart. I shook my head, smacking myself back to reality. Now wasn’t the time to give up, nor falter. No, now was the time to fight like hell!

Revolver clenched in my teeth, I poked my head over the counter. The fight beyond came into view, and I focused on the closest Raiders I could spot. Two puffs of smoke, and two more fell.

Zero plus two is two.

I ducked back behind cover, covering my head as a wave of bullet sent waves of shrapnel over my head as they impacted the wall behind me. It was too much, too much to try and focus on at once. This was a blitz attack, a Raider special. What they lack in brains they make up for with volume and brawn. If I had to guess, there was about a hundred or so towns ponies when this had begun, with at least double that pouring in from the opening. Now, there was probably only twenty or so of us remaining, facing a force of at least a hundred. I continued to poke my head over the counter and fire, sending bullets flying into the closest Raider.

Two plus three is five.

Five plus one is six.

Reload.

Zero plus four is four.

Four plus two is six.

Reload.

My cycle continued, sending out bursts of bullets out before retreating behind the slowly shrinking cover. The mare at my side did the same, her shotgun throwing an almost constant stream of lead forwards. I poked my head out again, this time to survey the damage. I could see towns ponies barricading themselves inside of their shops, sending out burst attack just as we did. Raider of all sizes either charged with their melee weapons, or fired from during a frontal assault. They didn’t hide, nor seek cover. They charged, hoping to get our blood on their hooves.

It was a horror show.

Taking my eyes off the Raiders only allowed me to look at the growing dead. Bodies littered the streets; ponies I had passed the day before now lifeless husks on the ground. I had seen death, I was used to death, but it still never made it any better.

I felt a tug as I was pulled back behind cover, shrapnel from one of the mines impacting all around the back wall. I took a moment to come back to reality and slowly rose to an upright position. I hissed, reminded of my shredded hide as more pain crawled up my spine. “Thanks for that,” I begin as I raise my head to properly thank the mare. “Can’t believe I forgot about the… mines.”

I went silent. No words escaping my lips as my eyes make contact with the mare who had pulled me into her safe haven.

“I feel… cold,” Kind Shot mutters, her shotgun falling from her magical grasp. She looks down, the bleeding hole in her chest filling her vision. “Why am I so… cold.”

She slumps, her body going limp. I dive forwards and catch the mare, holding her as he eyes struggle to stay open. Blood slowly drips from her mouth as she chokes up breath, her eyes never leaving mine. I lay her down and press my hooves into the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“I never thought dying would be so… cold.”

No, you’re not dying. I reached into my bag and pulled out a healing potion, dripping the potion directly onto the wound. It slowly heals, knitting together before my eyes. But, to my horror, it’s not fast enough to keep the river of blood from constantly leaking out.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!

I hated death. It was a haunting finality that seemed to plague the Wasteland as a whole. Death was natural, but I had yet to seen a natural death since the bombs fell. Killing was one thing; it was easy to disconnect yourself from the deed and justify your actions. But, holding someone as the life drains from their eyes… well, that was something else. My hooves only did so much to slow the bleeding, and even after three potions I saw no improvement.

She died.

Her eyes glazed over, and the spark that lives inside all living things disappeared. Gently, I laid the mare down, closing her eyes and crossing her hooves across her chest. She looked peaceful, almost as if she was sleeping.

The room shook again, more wooden and metal chunks rained down on me. Another mine had exploded, leaving only one left between me and the Raiders. This was just supposed to be a routine restock, grab what I needed and get out. But, I guess my luck that had lasted 183 years had finally ended.

I pulled out all three of my revolvers, quickly reloading them and laying them on the ground in front of me. Three revolvers. Six rounds each. Eighteen bullets before I had to reload.

I wanted to take eighteen of them down with me.

Grabbing the first one in my mouth, listened to the battle outside. I could hear screams from the towns ponies; some coming from layer above me, and others from outside. With one last moment of hesitation, I jumped up from behind the cover, and my mind went into full instinct mode…

Five clicks of the tongue, five screams of pain. In rapid succession, five bullets fired from my revolver; two hitting home in Raider’s heads, killing them instantly; two digging themselves in the armor chests of two others; and one bouncing harmlessly off one’s heavily armored hide. This gets their attention: a large mass of blood covered Raiders rushes the shop, their weapons ready for my blood.

Five plus one makes six.

My final bullet fired from my gun, and I take cover. An explosion rings out as my bullet sets it off, a mess of blood and limbs flying in all directions. I drop my empty revolver and pick up a fresh one, hopping back up on the counter. I fire three shots, all missing a Raider strafing in front of the store, his almost foaming mouth makes be believe he’s high on jet. I curse to myself, aiming for his center mass. Two more bullets, one making contact with his hide and causing him to fall. I fire the last one, half his head exploding in a plume of white.

Then, I was tackled.

While focusing on the last Raider, I had let my guard down, using all my focus to hit his snakelike path. I collided with the back wall, the stallion slamming me back. I try to recover, but he was faster. My eyes met his blood red ones, murder held deep within. His coat is red, weather from blood or natural I wasn't sure. He wore thick leather barding, spikes shards of metal driven into the material. Although, his front and back hooves were bare, I noted. The stallion lashed forwards, hooves connecting with my skull and sending me flying to the ground. I roll to my hooves, pulling out my knife from its place on my hoof. I react as fast as I can, diving forwards and slashing, making contact with his right hoof as he tries to defend himself. I expected him to fall, stunned by the huge gash in his flesh, but he doesn't even flinch. My eyes go wide, realizing that he was probably pumped full of some crazy Chem-cocktail, Buffout and Medex definitely included in the mix.

“Think you’re hot shit, bandage?!” the crazed stallion chants, his eye twitching. “I'm gonna see how much blood I can mop up with those when I kill you!” He reaches down and picks up a hatchet (most likely dropped when he rammed me) and still seems to smile around it’s grip. “Time to die!”

I dive out of the way as he gives his weapon a mighty swing, the deadly blade whizzing past my head. He turns and goes for another, but I’m more prepared this time and duck, lunging forwards and sticking my knife right into his neck. “Not this time…” I muttered, removing the blade as the Raider drops to the ground, choking and coughing on his own blood.

Bang!

Cold… it did feel cold. My hooves fell out from under my as I fell. When I hit the ground, I looked down to see black ichor dripping from a new hole in my barding, set just perfectly between my front and rear plates. I groan, trying to get back up, but I find my strength fleeting. My eyelids begin to get heavier, a foreign, long since forgotten tiredness washed over my body.

Tired… so tired.

I close my eyes, a smile crossing my muzzle as I allow my old friend sleep wash over my tired mind. My mind goes fuzzy, and thought begin to blur, and soon, everything is black.

----

Pain. More pain then I had felt in a long time washed over me like a flood from a broken dam. I groaned, a tight, twisting pain radiated from my side every time I tried to move, while my entire right side and chest constantly throbbed with a pain inducing heartbeat. My dry and decayed throat let out another raspy groan as I opened my eyes, a wall of red filling the entirety of my vision. My head pounded, the world around me spinning the longer I held open my eyes. I tried to rise to my hooves, but stopped as the sharp pain in my side only grew the more effort I put in. Eventually, I stopped trying altogether, instead closing my eyes and letting my mind settle.

After longer then I would have wanted, the world settled and my mind returned to its normal functionality. My eyes opened, and I craned my neck up to see what was causing the throbbing pain in my side. It wasn’t hard to spot, the combat knife sticking out of my hide hard to miss. Knowing it had to come out, I didn’t procrastinate and leaned my head back and grabbed the blade’s handle in my maw, biting down hard as I yanked it out. Black fluid slowly trickled from the newly created hole, while all of my willpower was spent trying not to scream. The pain was ridiculous, but it eventually faded to manageable levels as time went on.

I layed on the ground for what could have been anywhere between a minute to an hour, staring up at the shredded remains of the ceiling that had once been the shop’s roof. I remember the fight, I remember the death, that much hadn’t been lost too me. The only reason, I guessed, that I was still alive had been that the Raiders had mistaken me for a normal pony, simply stabbing a knife into my side to make sure I was dead. That may work with normal ponies, but definitely not with ghouls.

The pain eventually faded to manageable levels, and I attempted to get up. It took me a few times, but eventually I was able to make it to my hooves. Once I was sure I could walk without falling, I lifted my head and took a look around.

Blood.

This was what Raiders left in their wake; blood and dismembered corpses. The front of the shop alone was filled with the bodies of all of the Raiders me and Kind Shot had taken down, while the sight beyond was much more gruesome. It looked like they had some ‘fun’ before they eventually had moved on, as corpses of both dead Raiders and locals of The Hive were arranged in horrible positions. Body parts and entrails were hung all around the area like sick party decorations, while blood literally covered the entire ground. I shuttered at the sight; at the massacre.

I removed my eyes from the rest of the carnage, busying my mind by giving myself a good look over. It was evident by both the pain and slow drip of black fluid that I would need a good radiation bath soon, if I wanted to live. To my surprise, most of my stuff was still where it should have been. By luck, I had been forgotten or passed over by the Raiders, as the rest of the place was void of the guns and ammo that had once stocked the shelves and hangers. It took some digging through the few bodies that laid around me, but I eventually also found all three of my revolvers, and ironically discovered that I had been stabbed with my own knife.

I didn’t know how long I had been out, and I knew that, in my current state, I would be lucky if I could even take down a radroach. I perked my ears up to make sure that I was alone, listening for any signs of life.

Silence.

I let out a sigh, the silence being good because it meant I was free from Raiders, but also horrible because it meant that they were all dead. A once thriving community of traders was now reduced to a pile of blood and bodies. I didn’t know how this could happen, nor did I even want to think about it. I could feel the blood that had soaked into my bandage-covered hide, and it made me feel sick, dirty… wrong.

Kind Shot.

The mare that had died in my hooves popped into my mind. I looked around me and let out a sigh of relief when I spotted her body unmolested, still in the same position it had been in when I had laid her down for the first time.

Tap… Tap.

My ears perked up. A sound, so soft that I would have missed it if I wasn’t paying attention, whispered softly into the silent air of the dead city. My head turned, facing where I believed the sound had originated. I would have been paranoid, or it could just have been nothing, but from experience I had learned never to brush off anything. More than once had I almost died as a result of not paying attention to the creaking of wood, a stir in the temperature, or just a gut feeling. Slowly, I reached down and picked up my revolver from its holster, pointing the deadly weapon forwards.

Tap… Tap.

I heard the sound again, this time getting proper bearings on its location. From what I could tell, it was coming from the back room. I trotted forwards, my hind right leg limping with each step.

Tap… Tap.

I entered the back room. Boxes of recently looted ammo crates and gun lockers littered the floor of the storeroom, the care and organization the recently departed mare had put into the room destroyed.

Tap… Tap.

Now, I had a location. I stood in front of an unopened gunlocker, this one being the only one in the entire room that had been locked. Recent scratch and jab marks on the locker’s bolt revealed that the Raiders had attempted to open it, but seemed to have failed. Or… maybe they had been the one’s to lock it?

Tap… Tap.

The bottom of the locker shook, rattling softly. I quietly reholstered my revolver, then reached back and opened my saddlebag. After some rummaging, I pulled out a screwdriver and a few bobby pins. Arranging them with practiced ease, I stepped up to the locker and used a hoof to angle the lock so I could get to the tumblers.

Tap… Tap.

With the skill of a thousand locks picked, I heard the soft ‘click’ as the lock opened. I quickly put back my still usable pin and screwdriver, leaning down and grabbing my revolver. I didn’t know what I was going to find, and, at this point, I actually believed I should just leave it alone. But, my gut told me this was what I needed to do, and I never argued with my gut.

I pointed my .44 at the locker, my hoof resting on the lock. I mentally prepared myself, stealing my focus. In one fluid motion, I kicked off the unlocked lock and threw open the door, my gun pointed directly at the inside.

My eyes focused on the locker’s sole occupant: a twitching, blood covered Raider. I looked him over, studying his appearance. He was adorned with the normal spike-style one would expected on a raider, though this one seemed to have taken one heavy beating. Blood pooled at the bottom of the locker, and with how much there was, I didn't think this Raider had much time left. The monster of a pony cowered at my sight, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“N-no! Don't k-kill me!” he pleaded, covering his head. “T’ others locked me in ‘ere ‘cause they t’ought it’d be funny.”

I stared down the petty excuse for a Raider. I wanted to kill him, take out my anger at the massacre that they had committed at this sorry excuse for a Raider. But, before I pulled the trigger, a thought popped into mind.

“Where’d you get the Bailfire Egg launcher?” I asked, figuring that I should get some information out of him first.

He shuddered, and let out a wet cough. “Th’ gang found’d it when we looted some stable nearby.”

Stable? Now, that was something new. I knew the locations of several stables in the Chicacolt area, but to my knowledge, all of them were still closed.

“Where is it?” I asked, poking the stallion with the barrel of my gun.

“I-it’s in th’ old metro station! Somewhere near tunnel… Nine, or somethin’!” he began, before stopping when he entered another coughing fit.

Stable in the old Metro? Well, can’t say that surprises me, to be honest. Probably one of the control or specialty stables Stable-Tec was so famous for. I shook my head and returned my focus to the task at hoof. “What else can you tell me about this stable?”

“A-all I know is that ol’ Green Hooves found the location at som’ ministry hub an’ ‘ad us storm the place!”

“Are there any survivors?”

The stallion nodded. “Ye’. Stable dwellers don’ know how ta figure fer shit, but the’ don’ give up eitha.”

I nodded. This meant that there still could be some ponies down there. “Anything else?”

The stallion shook his head.

I let out a sigh and click my tongue, hearing the roar of my weapons as the Raiders head was reduced to nothing but blood and gore. A pang of guilt hits me at the act, but only a small one. I gave him the gift of a quick death, much more then he would have given me.

I pop open the chamber, and reached into my bag for a replacement round. While I mindlessly reload the single spent round, I ponder over the information given. These Raiders had gotten the armament to actually perpetuate this attack from that stable, and Princesses know what else was down there.

And the dwellers.

My mind went to a dark place when I thought about that. These weren't normal Wastelanders, no, these were poor, ignorant ponies who had been assaulted by the worse this hell-trotted land had produced. What had transpired I couldn't only imagine with with horror and disgust. I knew what Raiders were capable with; the inside of that time seeped prison would be nothing short of a blood bath.

I clicked the cylinder back into its place, and then slipped my gun back into its home in its holster.

Part of me wanted to forget this information; be happy that I had survived and just leave, letting the horror that was today behind me and return back to my mindless journey. But, another part of me, one I had tried to crush for a long, long time told me to head to that Stable. I wasn't a hero, that I knew for sure. I wasn't some super pony who could bust in and save the day; cleansing the wasteland of evil. No, I was just a coward of a ghoul—one the fled from danger, and fought only for myself. I hadn't been able to save this town, surviving only from pure luck.

Heroes died, and cowards survived.

I shook my head, banishing my thoughts of heroism. I trotted forwards and out of the back room, my hooves on autopilot. But, I stopped when I reached the corpse of a single mare. She was still in her peaceful, sleeping position I had lain her down in the day before. It was strange to look down at a corpse of a pony you knew in life. I tended to distance myself from the ponies around me, and she had been no different. But, in life, she had been different then almost all that I had ever met in the wasteland.

She had smiled.

She hadn't been mean, or rude, or even angry at the world around her. No, she had been a single ray of hope; a sliver of happiness that had managed to escape the grasp of the wasteland.

Well, for a while, that is.

Now, she was dead; that spark that I had seen the previous day gone just like the life in her eyes. It was dead, she was dead… everything was dead.

Except me.

I shook my head, pushing back the thought that had begun to fill my mind. My hooves continued as I trotted over the corpse. I still had a limp from the still throbbing pain of my flesh wounds, but I continued forwards.

I hopped over the counter and landed with a wince, pain shooting up my right sided. I hissed out a few curses, but otherwise remained relatively quiet. The rest of the stop was still filled with the remains of Raiders me and Kind Shot had slain; their bodies still remained where they had fallen. The walls that had once been fully stocked with guns of all caliber were now completely empty, all that remained were empty hooks.

I kept trotted even when I exited the shop. Gore, mutilated remains, and puddles of blood filled my vision as I trotted forwards and into The Hive’s courtyard. The Raiders had their fun once everypony was dead, using their bodies as sickening decorations. I had seen this many times before, and had since been desensitized to the display. Over bodies and through the blood; past the cold corpses and mutilated bodies of ponies I had seen alive just yesterday; past carnage and death, I trotted forwards. I could see the sky fading to a dark orange, signaling the approaching nigh.

My hooves guided me past the melted gate to the once thriving trading hub, and I stopped. I had two directions I could go, two different paths that would lead me towards two different outcomes. One, I could forget about this and continue on as if it had never happened. Or two, I could travel towards the stable and… what, take on an entire Raider nest by myself? I was wounded and barely had any information about what I would walk into.

I let out a soft sigh and shook my head. What do I care? Why does the fate of a bunch of stable ponies, who are probably already dead, bother me so much? I shouldn't have cared. I should be able to ignore it like everything else since the world ended!

I let out a snort, pressing onwards in the fading light of the cloud layer. It was getting dark, and even though Chicacolt was filled with dangers during the day, the real demons came out at night. I needed to get to someplace safe, somewhere I could heal and rest. I thought for a moment, then remembered a close by apartment building that I had used more than once as a rest stop. It had been a long time since I had used it, but it seemed better than nothing.

Step after step, I trot forwards, making my way closer to my destination of relative safety. It wasn't that long of a distance, but with the burning pain in my side it could have been mines. After about ten minutes of limping later, I stopped in front of an old apartment building. Once, it had been home to over fifty families of the middle class. Now, however, it was a barely standing. Half of the entire building had caved in from the initial blast, while the other half suffered greatly from the hooves of time.

I limped forwards, pulling out my revolver and holding it at the ready. I pushed past the main doors to the lobby, my eyes scanning the area inside. Besides the skeletons of long since dead ponies, I didn’t see any signs of danger.

I kept my gun at the ready, though, just in case.

I trotted into the lobby and up a flight of stairs located just next to the reception desk, the skeleton of what I would would guess the secretary still slumped over her desk. I limped up three flights of stairs, stopping every once and awhile. Eventually, I made onto the third floor. With practiced precision, I systematically went through and checked each and every one of the room, making sure they were vacant of any hostile life. Sometimes, I wish I had been graced with a pipbuck: a pre-war wrist mounted marvel of prewar engineering. It had all sorts of features that would make my life so much better, but finding one was almost impossible. Only stables were graced with such tech, and, as far as I knew, none of the stables that were located in the Chicacolt area had opened yet. Well, until recently, that is.

Once I was sure that the floor was secure, I picked the room with the most impact furniture. The room I chose was what a small, two room apartment. It had a small kitchen, the contents of which scavenged years before, a couch, a chair, one bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom was useless, as the ceiling had given away, so that only left the couch. I dusted off the ancient material, patting it down and getting rid off as much of the built up dust and debris that I could. Once I was satisfied, I trotted over it the kitchen and shrugged off my saddlebags, placing them on the dust covered kitchen counter, followed by my hat and duster. I then unbuckled all three of my holsters and my knife and added them to the growing pile. I waited until I believed the kid was asleep before I began to remove the blood covered bandage that I had wrapped around my skin, wincing when I had to remove the ones that had been where I had been shot, stabbed, or other. Soon, a pile of blood soaked bandage lay on the floor, and I could feel the cool night air wash over my true boy for the first time in a while. Silver patches of fur dotted around my body, where it had decayed was just rotten flesh. My mane and tail, which had somehow to still remain almost completely intact. My flank still shown my cutie-mark, the one thing that didn’t seem to decay like the rest of my body. My cutie-mark was of a spray painted dark horizon with a single beam of silver light peaking past. I had been a graffiti before the war, if you believe it or not. I had been recruited by the ministry of image as a propaganda artist, spray painting images of hope wherever I could. It was a peaceful job, at first. But, as the war continued, I lost my inspiration and was soon fired. After that, I joined with the Equestrian army, and the rest is history.

I let out a sad sigh as I looked away from the mark, internally scowling at the mocking symbol of ‘hope’ stuck to my flank.

I stuck my muzzle into my bag and pulled out the materials I needed: irradiated water, a needle and thread, a single healing potion, replacement bandage I would wrap myself with once I was done, and finally my knife. I first grabbed the knife in my mouth, taking a few unneeded breaths before finally tilting my head back and digging it into my flank. I held back a scream, biting down hard on the handle. I heard a soft ‘plink’ as the first bullet popped out of my rotten skin. I took a moment to recover, then dove the knife back in as I went to work on removing the next two. Finally, after what felt like an hour, three black coated bullets lay on the floor. I held back a scream, as I didn’t want to let every Raider (or worse) know my current location. After taking a few minutes to recover, got out the needle and thread and began to sew together the larger gashes. It hurt, yes, but not even half as bad as the knife had. Once each of them had been sewn shut, I opened the irradiated water bottle and poured it all over my wounds. I let out a content sigh as waves of soothing cool washed over the areas that had until now one radiated pain. The radiation, though small, was enough for the wounds to start to heal. Radiation healed us ghouls, and it brought with it a wave of pleasure every time we basked in its warm glow. I also used the water as a makeshift bath, washing off as much blood as I could. Once that was gone, I then poured the healing potion over the wounds as well. It’s magic wasn’t even half as strong as it was to normal ponies, but it still worked.

Finally, after all of this was done, I picked up the roll of bandage and rewrapped myself. I first started with my back hooves, then worked my way to my chest, and then my front hooves, and finally my head and muzzle. It had taken years of practiced to be able to do this without a mirror; the routine now becoming more like second nature rather than a conscience action. Once this was done, and I was now completely covered, I reattached my three revolvers and knife, first wiping the blade clean on the pile of used bandage. With myself now rewrapped, I felt a lot safer. As I had said before, ponies didn’t trust ghouls. Most thought we would go feral at any moment, while others just didn’t seem to want to acknowledge that there was difference. Because of this, I had to cover my decaying body, hiding who I truly was beneath layers of bandage. It was easier to lie and say the bandages were from a large burn wound, smoke damage resulting in my croaked voice. It worked, most of the time, and those who actually figured it out didn’t seem to care.

I packed up my supplies in my saddlebags and laid it across by back along with my duster and hat and proceded over to the couch. I placed down my duster and hat on the floor and hopped up on the chair with my saddlebags. I sifted through them and began to take restock of what supplies I had remaining, and also guesstimating how much I would need for my new companion. Apparently a pipbuck had it’s own sorting spell that did this for you, but I didn’t have one so, like the rest of the Wasteland, I had to rely on memory and constant checks to know what I had, and what I needed. This was also the reason why the right side was so carefully organized, as many of the things I stored in there I would need in a moment’s notice. It wasn’t a flawless system, but years of tweaking and perfecting had gotten it to work as close to perfect as I could get.

After taking inventory, I placed the bag on the floor besides me. I sat for a little bit, letting time roll by, but soon got bored and rose from my seat, trotting over to a nearby window. Through it I looked at the dark cloud layer above, sighing at the fact that I hadn’t seen either the sun or night sky in a long, long time. I used to love looking at the night sky, observing the beauty of the stars, but that all ended when the pegasi abandoned us to create their own safe haven. I hated pegasi for this. Not for abandoning us, but for taking away the nightly beauty that was the stars.

I shook my head, pushing away old hate and returning to the couch. Again, I sat there for a while, ears perked up at attention as I watched the only door. I planned on staying here for the night, then head out for the closest highly irradiated area I could find. Sleep would forever elude me, so my entire time was spent staring at the closed door, daring for somethings to enter.

Nothing ever did.

- - - - - - - -

Dawn came. Fleeting light peeked its way through the cloud layer and pierced the darkness of the night. I watched as a single ray of light shone through the broken window, slowly growing as the sun rose higher in the sky. I waited until the beam had made it’s way about halfway up the wall before I rose to my hooves, stretching my freshly wrapped body. It would take a little bit before the bandages would conform to my body, to which I would have to deal with the slight discomfort they supplied. My body still hurt, my right side still on fire from, but it was manageable now. I took a test trot around the old apartment, happy that I could now trott with minimum pain.

I then made my way over and collected the rest of my stuff. I first slipped on my duster before I attached my saddlebags tightly at my sides. Finally, I reached down and picked up my hat, placing it snug on my head.

Welp, time for me to get going, I thought, giving myself one last stretch before trotting over to the door. I nudged it open with a hoof, then preceded to trot down the hall and down the stairs, finally exiting out the lobby and into the cool morning air.

Chicacolt. Once a bustling, busy city before the war, was now a ghost of its former glory. I stepped onto the cracked asphalt, my eyes scanning from side to side before I stepped out of the relative safety of the apartment complex. The city was filled with dangers; Raiders, the occasional Alicorn, gangs, and mutated creatures. But, despite them, life still thrived in the city. The Hive would be a substantial loss to the city's economy, but it would recover. Many more trading hubs and small ‘towns’ could be found sprawled around the city, and they would make up for the loss in time.

Life goes on, it always does.

I wasn’t sure of my next destination, as I didn’t have one. To be honest, I rarely ever had a destination. I was a wanderer, and that was what I did. From town to town, I traveled. I never really did anything. I didn’t like to fight, I didn’t like to stay, I didn’t even like being around other ponies. They only made me nervous, and even after all these years I could never be sure who I could trust. I was a lonely life, but it was still life, and not death.

I shook my head, pushing back the tangential thoughts that filled my mind. Focus, I needed to focus! At random I chose a direction and began to trot. South, if my internal compass was correct.

The street that I was currently on was originally a transition from the residential area to the business area. The buildings around me began to grow higher and higher, their piques almost too tall to view. I had to be careful trotting through this area, as it was known to house snipers that hid in the ruined skyscrapers, waiting to pick of an unsuspecting prey and steal their belongings. I was always constantly on alert, but now my focus was mainly at the sky.

Another ten minutes or so of trotting went by without incident, the only thing that I had spotted was a scampering rad-roach. It wasn’t uncommon to travel this long without seeing anypony, as most tended to travel in larger groups, or simply remain in their settlements. It was safer, as there was power in numbers.

My paced slowed as a staticy sound began to fill my ears; a familiar buzz that I had heard countless times before. I continued on and searched for it source, eventually spotting it. A single radio sat in the broken front window of an old electronics store, it’s power still somehow running. I trotted inside and up to the radio, flipping the dial and trying to find a station. I liked the radio, as it brought music and news from the ponies who had somehow managed to keep it running even after bombs fell.

Eventually, the static cleared and a familiar voice filled my ears.

“Hello, Wasteland! This is DJ PON-3, and how are y’all doing in this fine hell-hole we call home?”

The voice was masculine and official. Soothing, almost.

“Well, children, I hope it’s better than me. I just got news from Chicacolt that a group of Raiders just tore through and, well, raided the tradecenter called, ‘The Hive’. As if now, there has been no confirmed survivors, but I have hope that at least one of the town’s ponies managed to get out alive.”

I sunk my head, knowing firsthand that his optimism was poorly focused. There had been no survivors, as raiders didn’t like taking ponies alive. They would sweep through like a swarm of locusts, destroying everything in their way before moving on.

“Now, I don’t know where exactly these raiders are set up camp, but reports from the area show a rise in activity near the Metro system, so until somepony can deal with them, I suggest steering far, far away from that area.

“Anyways, that’s all I have for you right now. Stay safe out there.”

The DJ’s voice stopped, replaced soon after with music I had heard countless times before.

[Fo:E - Frozen Gears] Story Setup

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Fo:E - Frozen Gears

By: Michael A.

“Some secrets are better left buried.”

There are many things in this world that surprise us. Sometimes they are events that happen without any formal warning, and end with a life changing event that will stick with us for the rest of our lives. Sometimes they are ponies who pop into our lives without warning, friends who you feel you could never live without, or enemies that you wish that you hadn't even met. And sometimes they are something that is so random, so shocking, and so overwhelmingly sudden that you don’t even know how to react, and just freeze. These types of situations happen a lot in life; things that happen that we don’t expect. Sometimes, they signal great change, for better or worse. And sometimes, these sudden and massive changes break us.

And sometimes, they define us.

“Stupid… no good… robotic… piece of crap!” I mumbled through the wrench I held between my teeth, foggy breath escaping from my nose. “‘Go fix they Sentry Bot,’ they said. ‘We’ll cover you,’ they said.”

The air is freezing, a fresh coat of snow coated ground, and the sound of magical energy weapons and the roar of artillery filled the air. Yup, welcome to the Northern Equestria, where the temperature flutters between freezing and death, and the fear of freezing to death is second only to being shot.

“Junk Gear! When you get that damned bot up and running, get your skinny plot over here and fix my auto feeder!” Boomed the amplified voice of my squad’s heavy (Heavy Hoof, believe it or not) from somewhere behind me.

I groaned, rolling my eyes from behind my goggles before continuing to repair the robot. My head was currently neck deep in the maintenance panel of one of our Sentry Bot’s. The damned thing had stopped running, and our recon team’s Knight had decided that it was essential for me to get it back up and running. So, here I am, like the good little field engineer I am, trying to get the damned thing to reboot. Now, usually I don’t mind fixing these things. Hell, I actually enjoy it. But when one breaks down it the middle of a fucking firing zong, I have some issues. Beams of magical energy and burning hot lead wizzed passed me from all directions, some just barely missing me. It’s kinda hard to focus on fixing a pre-war piece of junk while, at the same time, trying not to get shot! The only luck that has been thrown to me so far is that the problem seems to be more software than hardware, so a simple reboot should fix it. “Just one more tweak, and…”

“Sentry Bot, Online. Weapons system’s initiated. Threat level... Omega. Use of deadly force... authorized,” the Bot cried out as it whirred back to life, it’s minigun that had been dormant on it’s side beginning to spin up. “Time to die, Zebra skum!”

I cried out in victory as I slammed shut the access panel on its back and jumped off in one fluid movement, running as fast as I could back behind the concrete slabs that the rest of the recon team was currently using for cover. After vaulting over the slab, I pressed my back against the cool rock, happy that I had several feet of hardened stone between me and incoming fire.

“Oh! Gon’ run an’ hide, ya’ li’l cunt! Why don’cha come back ‘ere and have som’ real fun!”

I let out another sigh. I freaking hate Raiders.

Moments later I heard a loud “Bang!” followed soon after by a sickening “Crunch!”. From experience I already know that was our team’s sniper, Keen Shot, blowing the head off of the offending Raider. I smiled, letting out sigh of relief before wiping the sweat and grease that was caked to my once whitemane with the back of my hoof. Weather or not I was successful in cleaning anything was any ponies guess.

“Hey, Junk, my auto loader ain’t gonna fix itself!”

Smile gone. My body visually sagged as I let out another sigh, contemplating ignoring that oaf’s command. But, my the desire to not hear him complain when we got back to base won out as I pushed myself back onto my hooves. Not too far from where I was resting sat our team’s heavy gunner, who was currently tapping his hooves impatiently on the ground. He was a large, lumbering stallion that was easily three times the size anypony has the right to be. As it is we had to cram him into a specially-fitted suit of power armor. But, his size did add some advantages, mainly the fact that we could load him up with enough armament to make him a walking tank. On a tactical view, he was a force to be reckoned with. On my view, he was a large pain in the ass with a shit load of moving parts that I had make sure kept moving, or else he became even more of a pain in the ass! Two full sized mini-guns that were supposed to be mounted on a Vertibuck sat on each side of his armor, while a single, large caliber anti-personal rifle sat in the middle.

I trotted up next to the stallion, tapping at the side of one of his armored hooves.

He turned, his helmeted head staring me down. “Took you long enough!” he said, his voice slightly digitized. “Now get up there and fix the damned thing so I can start shooting again!” He leaned down, allowing me access to his back.

I hopped up, wasting no time and began to troubleshoot his minigun’s autofeeder. It didn’t take me long to figure out that the issue was that main feed chain had become unhooked. “Damn it, Heavy. The damn chain got unhooked, again!”

The stallion grunted, apparently not giving a crap about the logistics of his mechanical issues.

I grumbled to myself. This is the third time this month I've had to do this! I think it’s about time I sat down our chapter’s head mechanic and reamed him a new one. After a few more internal curses and some growls of annoyance, I got the feeder back into working order and hopped off the heavy. “Okay, you’re good,” I said, dusting myself off as best I could.

Heavy lets out an acknowledging grunt, before getting onto his hooves. He fired up his auto-feeder, the mechanism churning to life as it reloaded his side guns. He nodded, to himself, before jumping over the concrete barrier and charging headfirst towards the Raider nest.

I shook my head, leaning down and re-wrapping up my toolkit, before tucking it back into its place on my wrist mount. (Which was a little thing I rigged up a while ago when I got promoted to field engineer.) It wasn't as fancy as a pre-war Pip-Buck, but it had a hobbled together clock and basic tactical functions (such as hacking and terminal interface), basic memory functions, and a compartment for all of my basic field tools.

After making sure it was secure

“Knight, Mellon,” I began, standing at attention and give him a salute. “I am here to report the sentry-bot is back up and functional and Heavy Hoof’s auto feeder is now up and running as well.”

The Knight gave me a curt nod. “Good work, Mechanic. It seems like Heavy and Keen Shot have this pretty much wrapped up, so just wait around the extraction point unless something else breaks.”

I nodded, saluting again. “Yes, sir!”

/* It wasn’t long until we arrived back at our Chapter’s headquarters. We were currently stationed at Fort Fireside, an ironic name considering our proximity to Equestria’s northern border. Fireside was a modest outpost, not the largest of the Steal Ranger’s settlements, but far from the smallest. Before the war, this outpost was used as the command center for all of Northern Equestria’s guard posts, and acted as the home base for all Northern based operations. Considering most of the fighting took place */

I shrugged off my field uniform, which consisted of a light-weight leather barding with pockets for all of my tools and various equipment. I had designed it myself with the assistance of our armorer a while back, and I was really impressed with how it turned out. It provided as much protection as I needed and could hold all that I needed, while at the same time being agile enough to not impeded my movements. Ponies used to call me lazy because I didn’t have to partake in the usual training regimen, but they didn’t know how much I had to jump around and move. To be honest, I’m probably more fit and agile than half of our chapter. But, they don’t care. I am just the mare who they call when they break something.

I carefully hung up my barding, taking extra care to fold it neatly. I usually wasn’t one for organization, as evident by my workstation, but I tried to be neat when I could. After placing it in its proper place in my locker, I trotted back over to my workbench, booting up my terminal to check my repair ticket que.

“Only seven new tickets… sweet,” I mumbled to myself, a soft smile gracing my face at the easy workload. I opened the first message and began to read.

“Hey, Junk, some of the terminals in administration are acting up again. The pompous asses requested new terminals, and I quickly responded with, ‘Are you kidding me?’ Anyways, if you could come up sometime this week and see what you could do I would be greatly appreciative.

- Head Scribe Quick Step”

I smiled. Quick was one of the few that actually seemed to appreciate what I did. I’m pretty sure it’s because he’s the only other pony who works harder then me to keep this place from falling apart. I made a note on my wrist mount to check on the administration terminals as soon as I got time… Then made another note to finally give the thing a name. Junk Buck, maybe?

I opened up the rest of the tickets and found the usual requests: “My ‘insert something’ isn’t working properly, get down here and fix it!” I sighed, logging the requests onto my wrist mount before logging out of my terminal.

[Fo:E Short- Sunrise] Short

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Fo:E Short- Sunrise

By: Michael A.

“Oh… the sun’ll come out, tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that… tomorrow.”

It was once a happy song; one filled with joy and cheer. A long time ago, it could he heard resonating from a singular garden in lower canterlot, happily sung out as the sun began to rise, and it’s golden rays began to blanket the awaiting land.

“Just thinkin' about, tomorrow… Clears away the cobwebs, and the sorrow…”

Now, it was a ghost of its former self. Every single day, at exactly the same time, the song could still be heard even after two hundred years. But, the joy in its chorus and the happiness in the singers voice slowly faded, leaving behind a phantom echo.

“When I'm stuck a day, that's gray, and lonely, I just stick out my chin and grin, and say…”

I sat on my perch, head resting comfortably in my hoof as my eyes shown forwards. I didn't know why I stayed and listened even though it only brought memories of sadness, regret, and anger flowing up from deep inside of me. Maybe it had become a routine, one that I was helpless to brake like the owner of the voice. Whatever the reason; I never interrupted.

“The sun'll come out… tomorrow So ya gotta hang on, 'til tomorrow. Come what may, tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya, tomorrow! You're always a day… a… way.”

Then silence. The song would complete, and the wasteland would, once again, fall into a dreaded silence. That is, until tomorrow, when the song would start up again, replaying as if on a broken record. And, like clockwork, I would return to my spot besides the singing mare, listing to her ghostly some from her rotten vocal cords.

It was haunting, watching her go through the same motions day after day. It wasn't just the song that repeated, no, it was her. It was like watching the same day happening over, and over again, and being completely helpless to change what happened. I had tried. Tried to stop her endless cycle. But, it had ended with failure, with the song starting up at the exact same time the next morning.

Yes, the sun would come up again, but behind the veil of a cloud layer forever clouding it’s solar rays. The Wasteland would awaken, bringing with it the hell that it had become. Monsters stirred, mutated creatures would awaken, and savage beasts that had once been pony would crawl out from their blood soaked dens to continue their plague upon the Wasteland.

And, like clockwork, my Mom would rise from her bed, attempt the same breakfast from ingredients that had run dry countless years ago, then trot out the door of our small home at the edge of the purple cloud’s reach, and sing her haunted song:

“Oh… the sun’ll come out, tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that… tomorrow.”

[Fo:E - Wanderer] Story Setup

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Fallout: Equestria - Wanderer
By: Michael A.

A radio lies half buried in the sand. It is old and worn, covered in scars from years of continued use. It's a simple little contraption: a small, brown box. It had once been a brilliant red, but time had worn away its cheerful visage. On the front were three knobs; one controlled volume, another controller the station, and the last controlled power. The inside, while a marvel of prewar engineering, was actually fairly simple. Several cheaply enchanted crystals lay inside, vibrating with the invisible radio-waves that permeate the air.

The original owner of this radio is unknown. His reason for owning it is unknown. Was it a gift? Was it an impulse purchase? Or was it just something they felt they needed? Whatever the reason, it was not theirs anymore. It had passed through the hooves of several ponies through the years. It had been bartered, stolen, looted, gifted, and passed on in the years since it’s original creation.

Now, it belonged to the Wasteland.

Not far from this half-buried relic was a road. It was well traveled—the sand compacted from the hooves of countless travels. The ponies who traveled this road all had varying motives. Some traveled with a caravan in tow. Some wandered in hopes of riches or something ‘better’. Some ran their fears. And some simply wandered, no motive or reason.

This road was a graveyard.

Bodies lay splane along this road. A ransacked caravan. Blood dripped from lifeless husks. It soaked into the sand. The road was stained red.

The previous owner of the radio was among those dead. In life, he was a trailer. He had bartered his goods along this road all his life. In death, he was another victim of the wasteland, a reminder of the horrors it held.

Among the dead was his family: wife and young son. He had wished for his son to inherit his route. His trade. This would never come to happen.

Along with the family, lay guards. Three, in total.

One had been old. He had spent his entire life as a caravan guard. He had been good, but not good enough.

The second was young. He had left his family, going out on his own to seek his fortune. They would never know what had become of him. They would morn.

The final one had been a mare. She had been strong, suffering the most of the group. A former slave, this was her second life. But now, it was her only death.

Six lay dead, but seven lay on the road.

The radio crackled to life.

Goooood morning, wasteland! My name is DJ Sandstorm, and I welcome you to my little show.

Now, let's start off with the weather, shall we? Today's tempature will vary between suck-y and terrible, and it look like it's going to be another cloudy day—thank you, pegasi!

All joking aside, I'd like to warm all my listeners that it appears that we have another radiation storm rolling in from the east. If you want to join the ranks of the wastelands favorite undead, I highly suggest staying near shelter around early this afternoon.

On a news standpoint: it appears that the Rebel Rioters have struck again, sacking another caravan traveling along the [temp]. Once again, they left no survivors. Caravans are warned to hire extra security when traveling throws this area, or avoiding it all together.

That’s all I got for now, sadly. My name is DJ Sandstorm, and I’ll leave you with a little classic that I hope brightens up your day.

I don't want to set the world on fire.

A cough sounded.

I just want to start a flame in your heart.

A cry of pain rang out.

In my heart I have but one desire.

A final cough.

And that one is you, no other will do.

The radio crackled once more, the died. Silence reigned over the field of death.

Six lay dead, seven lay in the sand.

One falls feels the grip of darkness overtake them once more…

***

I wince. Pain suddenly floods my otherwise numb mind. I feel hot, yet cold at the same time. Warm sand presses up against my face and side. I'm on my side, I soon realize. I slowly crack my eyes open—the first thing I see is sand.

It's always sand.

I try to get up, but my side erupts with more pain. I hiss through clenched teeth. I fall back onto my side. I feel weak, like the gravity had grown ten-times more powerful.

For an unknown amount of time later, I lay there. I don't think—my head hurts too much for thought. All I do is focus on the endless plain of sand that lies within my field of view.

Once again, I try to get up. I hiss, but I push through the pain until I'm on my flank. I feel winded. I cough, my dry mouth and throat making it hurt far more than it should.

I sit there, for a while. I don't look around; I don't even look up. When I do turn my head, it's only to inspect where my pain originates from. I look at my side. My brown leather barding is stained red with dried blood—a bullet-hole at its center.

I've been shot. It wouldn't be the first time, but I'm glad it's not my last.

Slowly, I push up and try to rise to my hooves. Pain flares up from my rear left leg, but I manage to get fully onto my hooves. Favoriting my left hind hoof, I turn around and walk forwards.

My caravan is dead.

The second I woke up in the sand, I knew this was the case. I didn't know the names of the caravan family that had hired me. I didn't ask. They were all dead.

I painfully limp around the remnants of the caravan. The brahman are dead. As I feared, we were picked clean. There were no guns, no food, no water, no medicine… nothing.

I was dead.

[A Soldier's Fight Never Ends] Story Setup

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A Soldier's Fight Never Ends

By: Michael A.

I awoke with a start, sweat dripping down from my forehead and down my muzzle. I looked down to see my hooves shaking, trembling. My breaths were quick, and I instantly began to try and slow both them, and my racing heart, back down to a steady rate.

Another nightmare…

This had, sadly, become a common occurrence. I thought that they’d stop now that I was back in my own country, in my own bed, but they didn’t. What made it worse what that my bed was too… soft. I felt like I was going to fall through it, straight down to the floor. All those nights of sleeping on the ground had gotten to me, and I found myself having to sleep on the floor most nights when sleep escaped me… and even when sleep did come, I found myself awoken in the middle of the night, or early hours of the day, in the same panicked, terrified state day after day.

I calmed my breathing, and slowly pushed away the covers before sliding out of bed onto the cold floor. My hooves hit the floor with a muffled “Thump” and I immediately began to make my way to my bathroom. Once inside, I turned on the cold water with a hoof, and immediately began to splash some onto my face. The cold water helped to calm me down, and bring me back to reality. I turned the water off, and wiped my face with a nearby towel. Throwing the towel back into it’s place, I looked into the mirror above the sink, and stared at it. In the mirror was a dark green earth pony stallion with a black and green striped mane. The pony in front of me looked tired, and in more ways than one. I could see the pain in his eyes, and I could see the darkness he had caused. My hoof crashed into the reflection and shattered the mirror. Bits of broken mirror rained down from the force of my blow, some managing to fall into the sink, and others landing onto the floor below. I sighed, and began picking out the broken glass shards that were embedded into my hoof from the strike. I winced several times as I pulled out the shards with my teeth before spitting them out into the nearby trashcan.

It didn’t take long to bandage my wounded hoof and clean up the glass. I had managed to contain myself from crushing any of the bigger pieces when the image of that pony stared back at me. I returned back to my bed and pulled off the blanket before curling up onto the floor. Unsurprisingly, I found sleeping on the floor better. It wasn’t that it was more comfortable, as I always woke up with a sore back in the morning, what made it better was that it made me feel more… safe. When I got comfortable, I got nervous. When I managed to let my guard down, I got nervous. It was the sad cycle that I had found myself in. That’s what my life had become, just a series for routines that I had to follow, ones that I myself had no play in creating…

I laid on the ground for what felt like hours, continuing to question my existence. Eventually, the invisible hands of sleep graced me with their presence, pulling me into a dreamless slumber. I slept well that night, better than I had slept in a long time. But I know that won’t last.

After all, tomorrow is another night...

[Fleeting Hope] Story Setup

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Fleeting Hope
By: Michael A

Survival. It's one of the most powerful instincts, allowing you to perform amazing things that would normally be impossible. Some pony's drive for survival is stronger than others, allowing them to be pushed even farther before breaking. Some pony's are weaker and crack almost immediately. Life or death. Some can avoid death, doing the impossible to do so. Some barely cling to life, slowly slipping toward death.

I wasn't like that. I had the greatest will to survive I've ever met. Even when there is not chance that I'll live, I keep fighting. Giving up means death, and I feared death. It wasn't a crippling fear, more of a feeling of failure. I was born to survive, and I'd be damned if I failed that destiny.

Since the conversion, my will had been tested. I have seen countless fall to the demon that is death, some giving up and submitting, and others simply not being strong enough to fight it off. I was strong enough.

The numbers slowly fell; leaving less and less of us remaining. By us, I mean ponies. Vamponies took over, and they did so fast. Once upon a time, vamponies were a myth—a scary story told to foals to make them the bed. Now, it was ponies turn to be the myth. Yes, we were thought to be extinct, hunted to the last one of us. But are were wrong.

I can't say that we'll rise up and take back our home, but I won't give up hope.

Hope. Such a fleeting word. It pains me to remember how carelessly ponies used to throw it around. Hope for a new car; hope for a new phone; hope for something pointless. It was all the same, really. Now, we hoped for freedom.

We weren't prisoners, but prey. We were hunted and slaughtered. Every moment was filled with the fear of death; fear of them. But, some of us managed to survive, though our numbers were small. Almost hopelessly small. But hopeless was a banned world. "Giving up" and other expressions were now banned, and punishable to the full extent. If we were to survive, it would be through hope.

It was a double-edged sword. Hope didn't just keep us going, it also tortured us. How can you truly suffer when you give up? No, giving up was a release, and required no effort. Hope, hope required strength, fight, and energy. While we would survive through hope, it also slowly poisoned us.

We lived in colonies, spread out across the land. No one knows the location of all of them, more for safety than anything. Occasionally, you'll have a pony or two wanders out from one of the colonies, only to never return. Living outside of large groups was almost impossible.

Every once and a while, one of our colonies would be discovered. After that, it was only a matter of time before it was swarmed, and destroyed by the vamponies. It didn't matter how many of us we had—there was always more of them. The only way to survive was through secrecy. And that's what we did. We hid, we survived, and we repeated.

This story isn't about how I defeat the vamponies and bringing back the age of the ponies. No, that truly is impossible. This story is about survival and the fight against death. This is the story of survival, death, and struggle. If you want a happy ending, please don't read my story. Happy endings died with the princess, and, like her, would never rise again...

[Entanglement] Story Setup

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Author's Notes:

Description: This is the story of how Twilight and the rest of the Main Six go on a journey to save the mysterious entity, Vitae, who appears in Twilight's dreams. They face many challenges as they hunt for Vitae's home in the middle of the Everfree, the place of stone and water. Who is this mysterious entity, and who does it only call to twilight? More importantly, what has Twilight dragged her friends into?

Notes: Vitae, which means life in latin, was a pony who lived a long time in Equestria's past. She was a researcher, much like Twilight, but her thirst for knowledge and understanding far surpassed Twilight's own. Her quest lead to her attempting a spell that would infuse her with the power of the universe. Not to take it over, but to understand it. The spell works, but the effect wasn't as she intended. She turned into a quantum-like being, forever superpositioned. She was plagued with the ability to see everything at once; all possibilities that could happen. She eventually ended up casting herself into the dimension between reality and possibility, a malleable land of what could be.

The main six eventually release her from this realm, but her madness continues. It hurts for her to live. She wants to die.

More Notes: Just an attempt for me to try and mix MLP with Quantum theory. Lost interest before I could really make anything of it.

Entanglement
By: Michael A

She walked along the dark surface. Turning her head from side to side, she searched for any form of light. Minutes before, she had attempted to cast her illumination spell, but, for some currently unexplainable reason, it failed to cast, and no other spell she had tried since had worked. The area surrounding her wasn’t just black—it felt as if there was nothing. She felt like she was in some sort of void—where the darkness around her simply represented the empty space. Twilight trotted firmly, but her feet made no contact from any tangible floor. She tried to remain calm and try and figure out a logical explanation for what was going on, and where she was. But this… Place? Didn’t seem to have any logic at all.

Her train of thought was suddenly cut off when quiet, and seemingly distant, voices seemed to ring out from every directions. Twilight quickly looked around, trying to find the source, but all she could see was the unchanged void.

“H-Hello?” Twilight nervously called out, “is anypony there?”

Instead of getting an answer, the voices began to get louder. With each passing second, they grew. Each voice seemed to belong to a different individual, but there was thousands of them, each taking over the others. The truly strange part was that they didn’t seem to be talking to each other. Twilight tried to make out what the voices were saying, but the combination of the thousands of voices all mashed together into an incoherent cacophony of sound.

The voices continued to grow.

Soon, it felt like thousands of ponies were inside of Twilight's head, screaming. It soon soon after became too much; Twilight pressed her hooves to her temples, desperately trying to muffle the screams. She closed her eyes and prayed for release.

“Stop!” she screamed, falling to her flank.

Twilight's head rung. It felt like a beach ball was being inflated inside of her skull. She curled up into a ball, keeping her hooves pressed at her ears. She began to cry, the pain that filled her head growing to an unnameable level. She wanted to die right there, ending the pain.

Suddenly, Twilight's mind soon filled with thousands of images, each flashing only seconds apart. None of the images she could remember seeing before. The images was of a pony, or group of ponies, doing something. The ones that followed mimicked the first, but certain aspects were different. Each image after the first had a different outcome when the others came along. During this, the screaming didn’t stop, and twilight continued to cry. She screamed for them to stop, and nearly begged them to do such. But they didn’t listen.

Just as Twilight was about to scream again, she saw something. Opening her eyes more, she saw that it was a large, black alicorn that stood about ten feet from her position. The alicorn had back fur with random streaks of white running across it. It's mane seemed to flow just like Celestia's or Luna's, and it flickered with black and white static. As it stood there, it’s whole body seemed to shift in every direction, but remained intact enough to show the same basic form. The alicorn seemed... unstable.

Twilight, with her hooves still on her ears, called out, “Help me.”

The alicorn looked at her with it’s black, hole-like eyes. At the same time, a clear voice echoed through her head. It somehow managed to be separated from the others, but still seemed to comprise of several different voices, but these all seemed to originate from the same voice, but garbled up and distorted.

Focus on this… this voice alone… tone out all the others, and just focus on me…

Twilight didn’t question, and did as she was told. Focusing, she concentrated on the single tone, the single voice. As she continued to do this, the other voices seemed to fade out, and began to get quieter and quieter. Before long, all that remained was the alicorns voice.

Twilight gave herself a minute to compose herself, before getting up and facing the alicorn. She looked back into the alicorn’s black eyes and said, “Thank you.”

The alicorn nodded in reply, but didn’t say a word. She just stood there, not saying anything, looking back at Twilight with her black, empty eyes.

Twilight went to speak, but her vision seemed to flash… no, the whole void flashed. As she stared at the alicorn, the area around her began to flash white and black, streaks of either color flashed back and forth, locked in an intense battle. The alicorn began to flash, her form shuddered and morphed. It was unconstant, forever changing. Static.

The visions returned. The images began to flash, but not of not random ponies and events… but her and her friends. Each one was of something she remembered her and her friends doing, but each time something was different. They always ended differently.

The images began to shift. Twilight saw her friends being killed, one after the other, time and time again.

Another shift.

The image of Celestia lying dead in her chamber, followed by Nightmare moon on the throne.

The images continued, each one a more twisted version of her reality, things happening that never happened, but could have happened.

Help me...

The images suddenly stopped. The world around Twilight shifted back into the abyss of black. She blinked, then rubbed her eyes.

Help me…

Twilight heard it. It was the voice of the… alicorn she had seen earlier. Nervously, she spoke, “H-Hello?”

Help me, Twilight… I am tired.

“Tired?” the unicorn repeated. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

I have been here for too long… So tired… You must help me.

Twilight took a step forward. “What do you mean? Please, I can’t help you if you don’t explain.”

I am trapped here… in this void… I have been here for a long time.

Twilight was scared. The entire situation had put her on edge, while the nightmarish images she had just seen were still burned into her mind. But, despite this, the voice sounded… sad. It wasn’t threatening, nor ‘evil’. As much as she wanted to run, her curiosity and empathy glued her in place.

Go to the everfree… to the place of stone and water. A place lost to time, where the wind shall sing and nature talks. Find my home. Cast the spell. Set me free.

Twilight blinked. “You want me to go to the Everfree Forest?”

To the place of stone and water…

“Where is that?” Twilight asked, hoping for clarity. Never before had she wanted a notepad so badly in her life. “Please, can you be more specific?”

Too tired… must rest…

“No! I need more!” the unicorn begged, taking another step into the everlasting void. “Can I, at least, have your name?”

Call me Vitae…

Twilight stumbled as the voice began to shake and shift. Bend and twist.

It is time for you to go, Twilight… please, save me…

The unicorn took another step forward, but fell as nothing met her hoof. She screamed, plummeting into the screaming abyss.

Everything went black...

[Crestfallen Soul] Freewrite

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The sun hung high above the Equestrian horizon, casting golden rays down upon the home of its ruler. It brought with it warmth and comfort—a sense of security to all it enveloped. Almost all. There were some who fear the sun. Not its rays, but the one behind it’s golden visage. It was her sign of power, a warning to all who are taint it’s covering with darkness and evil.

Below the horizon, far south from the Capital of the Sun, a forest sat. It was warm, temperate. Birds chirped. Nature sung it's tune; babble of a brook, tussling of the leaves, gentle rumble of settling earth.

A single entity stood out in this symphony of nature. It was off, wrong. I corrupted the song, it's presence like the taint of a missed note.

“One last time, now...”

Chrysalis placed the stick between her teeth and bit down gently. The changeling muffled out a brief count, then yanked on the piece of twine. She hissed, biting strait through the stick. Pain radiated from where she had tightened the spint, but it was quickly retreating. She soon let out a pained breath.

“That should do it,” she briefly grit her teeth, “time to see if it was worth it.”

The Queen tentatively placed down her spinted led. She hesitated, then put her weight on it. She hissed once more, but the pain was at manageable. She took a few test steps. She had to rely heavily on her good front hoof, but she was walking. That was an improvement. She weaved her way through a few towering trees until a wrong step forced her to put more weight on her injured leg then she wanted. The resulting wave of pain caused the Queen to scream and stumble, falling onto her side, pulling the hurt leg close.

“By the Mother’s!” Chrysalis hissed, curling up into a ball. She wanted to say more, scream out her pain, but she held back, only letting out a toothed hissed. The changeling was doubtful she was alone in these woods.

Several minutes went by until the pain had faded enough to bear. Chrysalis rose to her flank and leaned her back against a neighboring tree. The bark was rough on her cracked carapace, but it was far more comfortable than the ground. Couldn’t she have landed someplace more comfortable? A swamp, perhaps?

The Queen rested her head back and gazed up at the low-hanging canopy. The leaves rustled in the gentle afternoon breeze; small slivers of golden light leaking through and spotting the ground. Chrysalis could feel the sun on her skin. She soaked up the warmth, but ignored where it came from. She had already been humiliated enough for one day.

Chrysalis shook her head, then weakly ignited her horn.

<Anyling there?>

Like the last time she had connected to the hive-mind, it was silent. She sighed as she disconnected, her face crestfallen. Usually it was abuzz with the collective chatter of all of her children. Opposed to common belief, her drones were more than empty husks. They had personality; they had soul. Each one was unique, and she treated them as such. They were her family, after all. But now, no voices graced her head. There was no chatter—on topic or otherwise. She would sometimes have to scold her children for using the mind for less than important reasons. Even if it was one of those stupid conversations, she wanted to hear it. She wanted to hear something!

Chrysalis gritted her teeth. She briefly brought a hoof up and wiped her face. It was wet… why was it wet? The source came from her eyes. Was she crying? She couldn't be crying! Tears were a sight of weakness! A queen wasn't weak! She wasn't weak. A sob escaped her lips; she growled soon after. Wiping her face once more, the queen rose to her hooves. Her broken one protested, but she pushed past the pain.

“I am not weak,” the changeling muttered to herself, steeling her features. “I am a queen—a queen is not weak.”

[Silent Night] Freewrite

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Author's Notes:

Eh, having fun with Silent Hill.

Outline:

- Plagued by nightmares since her return, Luna fears that some of the Nightmare Moon still remains inside of her.
- In an attempt to remove them for good, the princess asks her sister for help.
After some searching, Celestia comes across the Mind Delve spell, a mysterious spell whose origins are unknown, but has been recorded to help simpler cases such as her own.
- Celestia casts the spell up on sister, who is instantly teleported into a decayed version of the city of Canterlot.
- Lost in this nightmarish world, Luna wanders aimlessly in an attempt to not only learn what happened, but where she is.
- The journey takes her through the city, solving puzzles and facing grotesque abominations.
- All the while, the princess is aided by a shadow figure with unknown intentions.
- The journey will reveal the horrid deeds from her time under the nightmare’s control.
- In the end, Luna realizes that the nightmare was not an evil parasite, but a creation of her own accord.
- Story ends with Luna waking up from the spell with Celestia asking her what happened.
- Her response: “I woke up.”

Notes:

Creatures:

Blinded Thestral
- Thestral with it’s wings shredded and it’s eyes sewn shut.
Children of the Night
- Zombie-like remains of Luna’s colony.
Shroud
- The main creature that constantly follows her. It does not attack. It’s image is of a caped figure with glowing blue eyes that peek out from beneath the hood.

Story Outline:

- Show nightmares
- She goes to celestia
- Spell cast.
- She wakes up in the Silent Hill

Part: 1

A lone figure stood in the middle of empty stone room. The walls were made of a strange, cracked obsidian brick. Four torches hung on oxidized steel brackets, one on each of the walls of the empty room. Their flames burned with an odd, ethereal blue glow. They danced as they softly crackled, casting strange shadows that waltzed around the room.

The figure regarded the room around her, trying to make sense of the exitless chamber. She took a deep breath—the air was stale. She ruffled her midnight blue wings gently, the close environment putting her on edge. Her long horn suddenly lit up in a dark-blue light as she casted a simple spell. The radiating aura shot from her horn in the form of a small ball of magically-condensed energy. It impacted the neighboring wall, only to be seemingly absorbed by the dark brick.

The figure’s wings ruffled once more. The spell was supposed to cast a small niter flame onto the wall. This was disconcerting. The figure trotted slowly up to the wall she had cast her spell against. She closely examined the area of impact. It appeared to be completely untouched.

“Most curious,” the figure muttered, then lifted a hoof and placed it against the area in question.

The room immediately began to shake.

The figure stumbled as the walls began to shake and bend. Dust fell freely from the ceiling and fell to the floor like snow. Spiderweb cracks began to snake their way across the walls, originating from the figure’s point of contact.

Soon, the quake subsided, and the figure was able to regain her balance. She observed the change in the room, tilting her head at the strangely familiar pattern the cracks had created. They formed a small circle with a rearing alicorn in the center, behind which sat an intricately carved crescent moon.

How did she know this symbol?

The figure took a step forward and regarded the newly created mark. Once again, she pressed her hoof up against the wall. This time, the room did not shake. Instead, the symbol depressed upon her touch, a strange dark liquid slowly seeping out soon after. A large circular hole no sat in its wake. It was large enough for her hoof to fit.

Hesitantly, the figure went to place her hoof into the new opening, but paused when her hoof first struck the strange liquid. She pulled back her hoof now coated in the strange liquid. It took mere moments for her to realize what it was.

“Blood?”

Why was it blood? It must have been fresh, as it had yet to clot and oxidize. This unnerved the figure, but did not stop her from pressing her back into the hole. She felt the blood soak into her coat as she pressed her hoof further. It was warm. She stopped when she felt something within. A lever, perhaps. The figure pulled back on the leaver with her hoof and pulled her hoof out as fast as possible.

The wall shook in her wake, a crack forming down the center. Soon, the wall began to part, spreading from the newly created crack. The wall soon stopped, a new opening large enough for the figure to trot through in its stead. The figure peered beyond, an endless abyss staring back at her. Hesitantly, the figure trots through the opening and into the abyss beyond.

To the figure’s surprise, a single, large pedestal stood several meters in front of her. A light from an unknown, unseen source shone down from the heavens, lighting up the pedestal in a blinking white light. On top of the pedestal lay a large tarp of blackened cloth. It covered a large lump.

The figure slowly approached the pedestal, her curiosity piquing. She soon stood before it, and slowly reached for the tarp with a hoof. She was only able to give it a small tug before something clattered out from beneath. The figure looked down. Her eyes widened.

A pure white hoof hung limp from beneath the tarp, a brilliant crown of silver and gold lying closely besides it. She knew this crown. The knew the hoof. Her heart began to race.

“No… no, it cannot be,” the figure muttered, taking a step back. “You are not dead. You can't be dead!”

Blood soon began to slowly pour down the limb hoof, tainting its once pure visage. It dripped down and eventually began to coat the disregarded crown.

The figure shook her head. “No…”

Shadows began to dance from within the abyss. The figure remained oblivious to their presence until dark tendrils shot out from the void and wrapped around her hooves. The figure screams as she was lifted. She struggled and fought against their grip, but with no result. The tendrils snaked their way around her hooves and wings, eventually spaying her out above the tarp.

One of the tendrils snaked it’s way around the tendril, eventually gripping one of the corners of the sheet.

“N-No!” the figure cried. “I do not want to see!”

The tendril disregarded her wishes and ripped off the tarp. The figure gasped at what she saw, bile slowly building in the back of her throat. Before her lay the gutted form of Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria. Bringer of the day. Sister to the Princesses of the Night. Sister of Luna.

Sister to her…

Luna stared down at the gutted form of her sister. Her stomach was spain out, ribs showing. She sat like a hollow shell. Her eyes stared up at her sister, dead and empty. Above the deceased, written in what was undeniably her blood, was the word:

Why?

Luna struggled against the tendrils that held her tight. She closed her eyes and refused to look at the mutilated from of her beloved sister. But, the tendrils had different plans. They snaked around her body, eventually resting on her head. They forced opened her eyes and held her head aloft. Tears fell down the night princess’ muzzle.

The corpse shifted.

Luna gasped as the remains of her mutilated sister began to shift and rise. It was soon on its hooves, blood pouring from the hole in it’s chest. It looked up at her, it’s eyes now soullessly black. It opened it’s mouth.

Why?

The corpse gargled out the words. It was her sister’s voice, but distorted.

Luna did not know what to say. All she could do was cry as she was forced to watch.

The corpse’s horn ignited in a sickly version of Celestia's aura. A knife of pure magic soon appeared next to her. The corpse smiled.

The princess of the night’s eyes went wide. She struggled as she attempted to shake her head. “N-no. No! P-please, sister, no! Do not do this!”

The corpse didn't respond, not react to Luna’s words. Instead, it lifted the blade closer to her chest. The living sister could feel the sharp edge of the conjured blade press up against her chest. She whimpered.

Your turn.

The knife cut into the princess’s stomach. She screamed. Pain like she had never felt before erupted from within the princess as the blade was drawn across her chest. She felt herself be opened, her now uncontainable innards spilling out.

Luna wanted to scream, but she was unable too as her teeth were unconsciously clenched together. She hissed as her deceased sister began to carve her up from the inside, her soulless eyes staring up at her own.

Everything began to fade as blood loss began to set in. Luna grew tired, so tired. She felt the life slowly drain from within her. Thankfully, as her life slipped away, so did the pain.

The visage of her sister smiled up at her once last time before she felt herself finally slip away.

See you tomorrow, dear sister.

***

Luna awoke with a start. She quickly threw off her blankets and dove to the side of the bed where she vomited what remained in her stomach. She heaved, the dream still clear in her mind. Once the vomiting ceases, the princess curled up into a tight ball and began to scream, the phantom pain of her vivisection still radiating from the affected area.

Moments later, the doors to the princess’ bedchamber burst open, two guards clad in dark armor rushing in.

“Princess, are you hurt? What is the matter?” one of them spoke as her quickly ran to her side. The other followed suit, preferring to remain quiet, though concern was still clearly etched across his face.

Luna ground her teeth even as the pain began to fade. She stopped screaming, but could not uncurl herself.

The guards looked at each other, worried. They did not know what to do, as they did not know what was wrong. Had there been an assassination attempt? Was she sick? What had happened?

When the princess of the night was finally able to regain herself, she shaking pushed away the protesting guards and rolled onto her hooves.

“G-get out…” she stuttered, her voice pained.

“But, princess, we must insist that—”

“Get out!” Luna screamed, stomping her hoof and releasing a wave of magic that propelled the guards back. Both slammed into a nearby wall, and quickly darted out of the room in a fearful sprint once they recovered, closing the door behind them.

Once they were clear, and the door was shut, the princess fell onto her side and began to cry, both out of fear and the remnants of pain.

It had happened again. Another nightmare. This one worse than the last. With the others, the worst that had happened was her vomiting. The pain was new. The princess shook as if she has swam in ice-filled water. She feared going to sleep, entering the realm that was supposed to be hers.

She needed help.

Part: 2

Luna took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Her eyes were bloodshot; her hair a mess. She had not slept well in many a night, barely any at all the past three. She stood hesitantly besides the door to her sister’s study. The younger sister wanted to ask the elder for help. Nay, she needed to ask her for help. Night after night, she had tried to deal with this problem herself, but had come up fruitless. She did not want to bother her sister with this issue, nor worry her. Things had been stressful as it was since her… return, and she didn’t want to add anything else to the fire.

Even she had her breaking point.

The midnight blue alcorn steeled herself, then gently knocked with a metal-clad hoof. A few seconds went by without yield. Perhaps she wasn’t in? Yes, perhaps her sister was currently attending some important meet. It was possible, though highly unlikely. Celestia liked to keep her informed.

The door suddenly swung open, the regal image of the princess of the day standing proudly in its threshold. She looked down and smiled at her younger sibling. “Oh, Luna, it is you,” she began, motioning for her sister to enter. “Come in.”

Luna gave her sister a weak nod and trotted inside. Celestia’s study was cozy and held more of a ‘homely’ feeling than anywhere else in the castle. A hearth burned brightly with a flame that had never ceased to burn. The elder alicorn motioned for her sister to take a seat at the hearth, who complied. Two cups of tea were levitated over from an unknown source. One made it’s way over to Luna, who accepted it in her own magic.

“Thank you, sister.” She took a dainty sip, letting the heavenly liquid wash it’s way down her throat. She smiled. “We do believe that you still brew the best tea in the kingdome, a feat we find impressive even after so many moons.”

Celestia took her own respective seat opposite her sisters. She smiled at her sister’s compliment. “Thank you, Lulu. But, it becomes far less impressive when you have thousands of years of experimentation to get it correct.” She took a sip of her own. “Now, what is on your mind? Even after all these years, I can still read when something is troubling you.”

[Bioshock: Equestria] Freewrite

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<Proced to sector 8B. Class: 3 leak. Patch needed.>

The ground shakes with each step I take. The clanking of metal against metal, squeaking of rubber, and hard thunks with each of my step echo through the hall. A large brass plate lay strapped to my back, bumping against the metal of my suit with each step.

I scan the area around me through the small porthole of my helmet. The hallway is the same as all the other’s in the city: old and decrepit. The once lush carpet is now nothing more than a waterlogged mold-colony. The walls share much the same fate, sludge and other buildup coating the once perfect apearence. A good layer of water coats the ground—my suited hooves sloshing and spraying it around with each step.

<Approaching designated position.>

I spot where I am needed. One of the brass walls has a large crack down the center, slowly leaking water. It's a slow leak, but it wouldn't be for much longer. I approach the affected area and remove the large brass panel from my back. I look over the area, then shake my head. It’s too late for a simple weld; the patch was definitely needed.

I rear up on my hind hooves, steam hissing from them as the four-prong claws jut out and dig into the ground, steadying me. I shift a little bit, making sure I’m stable, then lift the large plate up and aline it. It takes some fiddling, but I eventually get it in place. A loud metallic hiss erupts from my hoof, followed by the clank of the rotating brass. I rear back my hoof, then slam it down into the plate. Metal screams as a rivet is forced in place, followed shortly by another hiss of steam and another clank. This rhythm continues—scream of metal, hiss of steam, clank of metal—until water stops seeping from the once split metal wall. I run my other hoove over the now bolted sheet of metal. It's hard to discern touch through the thin rubber and metal boot of my suit, but I'm compelled to do so regardless.

<Leak repair: success>

I nod at my handy work. Leak repaired. I turn and fall onto all four hooves. Filth and grime filled water sprays around me as I land in a puddle, some of it landing on the porthole of my helmet. I'm momentarily blinded. I let out a low grown, not much different than a fog horn. It was the only sound I could make.

I fall onto my flank. With my non-tooled hoof, I reach up and wipe the grime from my vision. It take a few attempts, as my booted hoof isn't much cleaner, but my vision once again returns. I let out another low groan, this one more of a sigh. I look down and note my tooled hoof. The attachment was much like an impact hammer. A revolving chamber of rivets ran around the circumference of my hoof, while the hammering mechanism was located further up. I gave the chamber a quick spin. Only three left, I note. I reach into my rubber saddlebag and pull out five more rivets and slowly reload them into the chamber.

I let out a groan of satisfaction, then slowly lift myself back into my hooves. The metal parts of my suit shift and clank, the claws on my hind hooves retracting back in place. I briefly look around, making sure there is no residual damage from my repair. In my search, something catches my attention. Something shiny glinting from within a pile of rotten wood. I stomp over to the pile and roughly throw aside the debris. I tilt my head. Underneath the pile was a small locket of tarnished silver. I pick it up with my cumbersome boot. For my size, I was surprisingly dexterous. I try to open the locket, but fail. This time, my suited hooves prevent me from undoing the latch. I let out a low groan of frustration. I reach back and put the locket into my saddlebags. I would try again later.

<Maintenance require in Section 12A. Possible hull breach. Priority: 1>

I let out another groan. I’m frustrated, but I cannot ignore anything below a priority three. This was a priority one. I turn on my hooves and proceed to the designated area. My hooves clank and splash against the waterlogged floor. The route to Section 12A takes me out of the inner heart of the tower I was currently in and towards the outside. Strict brass gives way to thick clear glass. Even now, after all these years, I still can’t help but stare.

[Describe: Ponified Rapture]

I shake my helmeted head, the continue along the glass wall and towards my require position. After twisting and turning down a few more hallways, I make it to my destination. Section 12A was the main area of this sections residential area. On either side of me, four storie of once pristine residential buildings lay ghosts of their former glory. Between this is a small common area, once a home for families and the like to socialize. Now, it was noman’s land, as evident by the few bloated bodies floating in the thin layer of water. There was always so much water.

<Hull breach detected. Confirm?>

I check around the area, but am surprised to find no sign of a hull breach. If there was one, the entire area would have been flooded by now. I double check the area before stomping towards the closest security station. [Interface with the station.] I shake my head. Some sort of error. I reset the system, hoping that it’ll fix the issue.

Something hard bangs against the side of my helmet.

[Fool's Paradise] Part: 7 (Scrapped)

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Fool's Paradise
By: Rumble, Chapter: 13, Typoglyphic.

Rainbow Dash was at a loss for words. Yes, there was much the mare wanted to say, but nothing came forth. Her mind was blank. So much had happened so soon, overstimulating her to the point of complete shutdown. So many things had changed. It was hard to process. The pegasus fet another shift in her chest fluff, followed by another choked out sob. Directed on pure instinct, Rainbow ran her hoof through the source of the sob’s mane and whispered words of comfort.

A mare was crying in her lap; one that Rainbow had never expected to see cry, let alone comfort. Lightning Dust. Such an ancient name to Rainbow. It had been years since she had last seen the mare, and now, she was letting out her frustration and sadness into Dash’s own chest. It was awkward, yes, but the mare didn’t mind. She didn’t know why she was fine with this, even believing that she would have reservations on doing the same thing for the rest of her friends, but that didn’t stop her. For some reason, she wanted to be there for her… for her former friend. Dash bit back a wave of guilt. It was her fault this mare was so broken, wasn’t it?

As if by a sick joke, it began to rain. At first, it began with a light sprinkle, which grew into a complete downpour. Rainbow fidgeted as her fur began to mat with the falling droplets. A chill began to run up her spine. All of her told her to get out of the rain, yet the broken creature in her lap made such a thing seemingly impossible. Lightning didn’t stur. She didn’t move. She didn’t shudder. Nothing. It was as if the rain didn’t affect her in the slightest, or she was just so entrapped in her own emotions that the waking world fell upon her like color to the blind.

The sky blue pegasus questioned whether or not to just rough it out and wait for Lightning to signal that she was ready to move, but, ironically, the sound and flash of not so distant lightning made up her mind. Rainbow winced, then nudged the pony in her lap with her muzzle.

“Hey, Lightning, time to go,” she muttered softly, poking the mare in her lap with her muzzle.

Lightning stirred, but didn’t answer. Instead, she rose to her hooves with a sniffle, avoiding the other mare’s gaze. Rainbow, in turn, put a wing over Lightning to shield her from the rain, then motioned forward with her muzzle and began to trot forward. Lightning followed in step, her head still lowered.

At first, the pair headed for Lightning’s apartment, but Rainbow soon changed their course towards her hotel. It was a little farther, but she wanted the broken mare at her side to actually sleep somewhere nice for a change. And she wanted a hot shower once she got out of the rain. Although she was certain that Lightning’s apartment did have a shower, she shuttered at the thought of the water quality, and questioned if it even had hot water.

Around fifteen minutes later, the duo exited the downpour and into the fancy hotel lobby. They were drenched. So much so that, upon recognizing the pair, the mare at the front desk ran to one of the supply closets and gave each of them a clean towel. Rainbow thanked the mare, but Lighting remained silent. She hasn’t said one word their entire journey. This unsettled the Wonderbolt newby, but she still said nothing. What could she say?

The two made their way up the elevator and Dash guided her guest to her room. It was the last one on the hall, passed the rest of the other ‘Bolts rooms. Rainbow wasn’t entirely aware of the time, but she figured that they’d all, most likely, still be at the post-show meet-and-greet.

Rainbow opened the door and motioned for Dust to enter. She did, and made her way immediately toward the couch that sat in the middle of the room. She climbed on top of the soft material and curled up into a little ball, hiding her head with her mane. Rainbow watched the display with sad eyes.

She closed the door, a single question ran through her mind: What was she doing? She wasn’t good at the feel good crap. Heck, she wasn’t even always good at solving her own problems. More than she would like to admit, Rainbow and searched for answers at the bottom of a bottle and always came up with nothing. The mare shook her head, then turned to face her house guest. Lightning shivered softly on the couch, her body still tucked into a tight ball. Should she comfort her? Give her a hug? Tell her everything was going to be alright? All of that seemed trivial. This was a broken mare, not a sad foal. Words simply weren’t going to be enough. Yet, they were all she could give.

Rainbow bit her lip, then made her way over to the couch. She sat down as close as she could to the mare without touching her. Lightning didn’t even twitch. Rainbow tried to collect her thoughts. She had to say something comforting. Something that would tell Lightning that everything was going to be okay. She needed to tell her that everything was going to work out. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“Thank you.”

Rainbow blinked. Those words had not come from her mouth. She looked down to see Lightning poking her head out from within the ball of her body. Her eyes were red, her cheeks matted from salty tears. She did not wear a smile, but it wasn’t a frown. Her face was neutral, but Rainbow could see her face flicker from one state to another.

“Thank you for… everything,” Lightning spoke. She shuffled uncomfortably, then rose to a seated position. She looked away. “I… I don’t really hate you. I want to, I want too so badly! But, I can’t. It’s all my fault -- everything. Everything bad that happens in my fault is my fault. I keep screwing up. I keep fucking up. I keep making the same mistakes.” She let out a shuddered breath. “I want it to be your fault. I want to blame you. It’d be so easy to blame you. And, for a while, I did blame you… and Spitfire… and everyone else.”

Rainbow held her breath. She wanted to interrupt, but knew that she needed to let the pony vent.

“I looked up to you. To them. To all of the ‘Bolts. They were just so… perfect. I thought that, if I could become one of them, then I would be perfect. I wouldn’t mess up all the time. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t…” She began to breath fast, but soon calmed herself with a single deep breath. “I wouldn’t be such a loser…”

Rainbow waited for more words, but none came. Only silence. She bit her lip, trying to think of what words to say. What could she say? The mare took a much deeper breath, then put a hoof on Lightning’s shoulder. “Look, Lightning… I don’t think you’re a loser. You just…” She searched for words. None came. Wasn’t this when she was supposed to just… say something inspirational that would make everything better? It was how it worked in the movies. Rainbow sighed. “I don’t know, Lightning. I… I don’t know your life before the academy, and I can only guess what happened afterward, but I can say this: you are not a loser. Honestly, I don’t even think that you deserved to get kicked out of the Academy. You did some stupid stuff, sure, but so did I. I didn’t say anything until it was too late. And Spitfire… I actually blamed her, at first. Before now. She was the one who pushed us. She encouraged us. She didn’t say anything until it was to late, too. But, now that I think about it, I guess I can’t blame her entirely too. It’s all of our faults. Mine, yours, Spitfire’s. We all kinda screwed up that day.” Rainbow took a deep breath. She was taking a lot of those. “The only problem is that you were the one who payed four all our failures. You were our fallpony. And that’s not right, but… what can we do now? I can’t erase the past. I don’t even know if I can make up for it. I can try. I will try. I… I’m sorry, Lightning. I was a terrible friend. I was a terrible pony. I should have stuck by your side. If I did, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe we both would have been kicked out. I don’t know.” She turned to look at Lightning, who had finally met her gaze. She gave her a soft smile. “I want to start over. As friends. As wingponies. As equals.”

Lightning looked like she was going to say something, but didn’t. Instead, she lunged forward and wrapped Rainbow into a sudden hug. The two fell from the couch from the force of the sudden embrace. Rainbow let out a grunt. Lightning didn’t let go. Rainbow was quick to recover, and soon returned the embrace.

[Eyes of Judgement] Part: 1 (Scrapped)

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Edited by: Jeffh4

A lone figure trotted forward, head held high and on alert. It’s body was long and lanky, hair a wispy cyan. Random holes ran up each of the figure’s legs, its barrel covered in solid chitin armor. Paper thin wings protruded from it’s back. The figure’s muzzle was blank, showing no emotion. It’s mouth held large, carnivorous fangs that had been the end of countless souls. This figure was a changeling, a feared creature of legend. They were monsters, angels of death and deception. This one in particular embodied all these dark myths and held them true.

She was Chrysalis, the Dark Queen.

Chrysalis took a deep breath, filling her lungs to full capacity. The air was cold and stale, smelling of damp decay. She let it out, her warm breath turning to steam as it met the cold air beyond. Her eyes followed the mist as it flowed down the long, unnatural hallway before her. She could see no end. Piles of small black shapes were pressed against the smooth, water-hewn walls. She had to be underground.

The layout seemed familiar. It gave the changeling a feelings of deja vous ever since she had first found herself here. She felt no presence, her keen senses picking up nothing, but it did nothing to reassure her.

The changeling continued her trot forward, scrutinizing everything she passed. She was searching for something. What, she didn’t know. Why, she did not know either. The changeling felt that there was something she need to find.

Chrysalis licked the air, only to stop dead in her tracks. Her chitin ran cold, eyes going wide. She licked the air again, making sure she was not mistaken. She wasn’t. She looked around, seeing everything in a new light. She knew why everything felt familiar. She knew where she was.

Panic began to fill the changeling, but she froze. She felt fear, something Chrysalis did not feel often. "No… n-no," Chrysalis stuttered. “I-I can not be here!”

Control returned to the changeling. On frantic hooves, Chrysalis bolted forward. Shapes danced around her in her flight. The endless tunnel began to change; runoffs, side tunnels, imperfection, stalagmites, slime, and other distinctive features began to fill it. Her sprint skidded to a stop as she hit a crossroad two different paths before her. Chrysalis wracked her brain, trying to remember which one to take. She knew these tunnels, having overseen their construction, but was currently drawing a blank.

A chill ran up her chitin. She could feel a presence. Without thinking, Chrysalis bolted down the right tunnel, not knowing where it lead. She didn’t care. She needed to get out. She needed to escape. She could not be there.

Chrysalis continued to flee forward, taking random side-routes, twists and turns, until she skidded to a halt once more. She had hit a dead end -- a large cavern that was lit by several sickly green crystals that pulsed with magic. Chrysalis turned around to backtrack, but found a solid wall in the place of where she had entered.

“What…?” Chrysalis muttered, only to shake her head and search for another exit. There was none. She was trapped. “No…”

Chrysalis began to panic. She stood in the center of the chamber, spinning in place. Tears soon began to fall from her eyes as she realized where she was trapped.

“No!” she choked out.

The walls became more defined. Details took shape. The walls that were once bare now held the broken, eroded remains of murals of happy changelings. The crystals began to dim, their color somehow turning an even sicker green. Black blobs that she once believed to be rocks that lined the walls began to take shape. Small limbs began to become defined. Soulless eyes began to stare back at her. Chrysalis dared to look at their little black bodies as she fell to her flank. Her eyes brimming with tears as she let out choked sobs.

A sick feeling began to fill the changeling. It felt good, but made her sick. She felt the sensation of love flowing into her. The simplest, purest love she'd ever tasted. She could still taste it. She felt sick! She had to run. She had to get away. She had to escape!

Chrysalis became stiff as she heard something scuffled behind her. It was gentle, like the patter of little hooves. Her tears halted as a feeling of dread filled her. She slammed closed her eyes. Don't look! It crawled closer. She could sense it. Even though she could not see it with her eyes, every other sense told her what it was.

Something small brushed up against on of her hind hooves and shivered, frozen in place like a scared grub. Don't look! She told herself, but her body didn’t listen. Her eyes creaked open. She focused on the sight behind her.

"Weevil?" Chrysalis whispered.

Before her, a grub crawled towards her front hooves. It’s body was shriveled and raked against the floor as it moves. Its eyes, usually full of life, were but empty holes. She knew this grub, for he had been her first child…

Her first surviving child.

"I didn't do this," Chrysalis rasped, taking a step back. "Not to him. Not you. I saved you."

The grub let out a piteous cry. It was dry and gurgled, a perverted version of a grub’s usual adorable chirp. It looked up at her with hungry eyes. She knew that hunger. It shuffled closer.

Chrysalis took a shaky breath, and dropped to her haunches. Her child needed her. The grub crawled closer. She lifted it up to her in her magic and held the phantom of Weevil -- the Weevil she remembered, in her mind. He was so young, so precious. He had grown up to become a strong drone. She would always remember him…

The grub sank its tiny teeth into her neck, and Chrysalis felt an ungodly burning pain. She did not react. She did not scream. She could not. She could only remember…

Three children had survived her deadly feast, all those years ago. Two of them, Naiad and Cicadia, died only days later.

Chrysalis’ strength ebbed as the grub drank its fill, taking back what she had stolen all those years ago. The pain never faded, only growing. She wanted to move. She wanted to remove the perverted version of her child from herself. She wanted to escape.

Only Weevil had survived…

Weevil continued to drink. His body grew, his fangs lengthened. Chrysalis began to sway on her paralyzed hooves. She toppled backward, her skull cracking against the stone. The grub followed her to the ground, his fangs never leaving her throat. All she could do was feel her child feed on her life. The room seemed to grow darker. His legs and neck lengthened.

A ghostly siren resonated from within the void of her mind. The world began to shake and shutter, cracks forming in the walls around her.

Chrysalis felt control return.

Without a second thought, the changeling twisted her body and bucked the false image of her first child free from her. The fangs tear free from her skin. She stumbled to her hooves and backed up against the nearest wall, distancing herself as far as possible from the creature that had once held been her son.

Weevil's small body had grown to rival his mother’s. His once bald head was now covered in thick, dark green hair. It pulsed with unnatural energy. His once small maw had grown, now as menacing as a dragon’s. Rows of razor sharp teeth gleamed back at her. His wings grew in with a sickening crack, breaking through his newly grown carapace. On his back grew large, threatening black spikes. It gave her a toothed smile, blood pouring from her mouth.

Chrysalis pressed herself as much into the wall as she could, her eyes wide in fear. “Y-you are not Weevil! G-get back, monster!”

The creature licked his lips, catching the last drops of falling blood. It opened its maw wide, a blood-curdling roar escaping its mouth. The dark walls around the creature continued to crack and shift, sickly black fluid flowing from the openings. The piles of shriveled corpses shuddered and convulsed. One by one, they twisted free and fell to the floor. Dozens crawled all around creature, all looking at Chrysalis with soulless eyes.

Chrysalis felt a sharp bite on one hind leg. She bucked, dislodging the grub's devilish teeth. Snapping out of her fear-fueled paralysis, Chrysalis shot forward, wings extending as she took to the air. The creature reared, clubbing her with her hooves. She ducked her head, her back slamming hard into the stone ground. Chrysalis rolled forward and onto her hooves.

She tried to run, but felt something latch onto her hooves and she fell once more. Blazing pain filled the changeling as more of the soulless grubs began to climb onto her like a helpless animal trapped in a pool of leeches. She screamed, convulsed, and tried to use her magic to rip them free from her. Her efforts were in vain. In her struggle, she saw the creature that had once been her child slowly approach until it stood over her, teeth bared.

“Please!” Chrysalis screamed through the pain. “Have mercy!”

The creature smiled further, then lunged down and bit into her throat…

O O

Chrysalis’ eyes shot open, her body reacted on instinct. She tried jump to her hooves, only to get caught up in the blanket wrapped around her. She struggled, her flailing body falling from the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud. Her struggle continued on the floor for a few painful seconds before she finally freed herself from the sheet’s grip, throwing it across the room and scurrying back until she felt the wall. Now freed, Chrysalis frantically felt around her neck as she tried to find the puncture wounds. She could still feel the creature’s bite on her neck and the rest of the little abominations sinking their teeth in her flesh.

She lay shivering on the floor, back pressed to to the wall. She twitched at every sound, every creak that her appartment made. Her fur matted with sweat, her heart threatening to burst from her chest.

“Just another nightmare,” Chrysalis told herself with another shuttered breath.

She felt silly, cowering like a little grub after a bad dream. If it had been anyone else, she would have personally called them weak, but she had felt the pain. She had felt the fear. The events of the nightmare had begun to fade from her mind, but the emotions it contained did not. She felt sick.

Chrysalis rose to her hooves.

She briefly surveyed her room. Her bed was where it was supposed to be, the small kitchen that bordered it held no signs of changing, her small dining room table still held the scraps of her meal, and her bathroom door was still closed. Everything was as it should be. With a shake of her head, Chrysalis turned towards the opposite wall and peered out the open window, noting the moon that hung high in the sky and the silver moonlight that cast through.

“Looks like I got less sleep than yesterday,” Chrysalis noted before she turned and trotted towards her closed bathroom door. She opened it with a hoof, fumbled for the enchanted crystal, and finally hissed at the explosion of blinding light upon her finding it. “Damn it!”

A few moments of rubbing her eyes and crude curses later, Chrysalis stepped forward and turned on her sink. She set the water to cold and splashed as much she could into her face. It was uncomfortable, but soon washed away the few hours of terrible sleep she had gotten.

She reached around blindly to her left with a hoof until she felt one of her towels, then brought it to her muzzle and dried her face. When she dropped the damp towel into the water basin, she looked up and into her cabinet mirror.

An earth pony looked back.

Chrysalis matched the pony’s gaze for a minute. In her mind, she pictured it bursting into green flames and a changeling queen standing in its place. Proud. She smiled for a minute, just a small crease in the corners of her muzzle, but it was soon gone.

The earth pony sighed once more.

The mare in the mirror was Crystal Eyeris; a tall, lanky dark grey earth pony mare with glowing green eyes, long cyan mane, and a broken, sickly green heart for a Cutie mark. The queen of many faces was gone, replaced by one. This one. But even with her face was gone, she still kept her own name, Chrysalis, if only behind closed doors. She refused to let her die.

She reached forwards and opened the mirror’s cabinet with a hoof and fished around for a brush. Finding one, she gently pulled it out, only to drop it into the sink with a shaky hoof. Chrysalis only let out a soft grumble, used to her lack of hoof dexterity, then reached forward with her mouth and slipped the brush’s band around her hoof. She closed the cabinet and began to brush her bedridden mane with the aid of the mirror. The action did little to wrangle the unmanageable cyan stands, but she did find the action comforting and soothing.

She returned the brush and regarded herself in the mirror. She smiled at her mostly managed mane, but frowned at the large black bags that hung under her eyes. It had been weeks since she had a good night’s rest. She shook her head, then paused, her skin prickling. She tilted her head and ears to the faint creak of depressed floorboards. Chrysalis rolled her eyes and shook her head again. “Of course she was going to make it tonight,” she muttered, stifling a yawn.

Chrysalis turned around and trotted out of the bathroom, trying desperately to ignore the large midnight-blue alicorn that sat in the center of the room, starlit mane waving in an unfelt wind.

"How is Crystal Eyeris these days?"

"As miserable as ever," Chrysalis muttered as she opened her breadbox.

The alicorn raised an eyebrow as she shifted to face the grey mare. "Last we met, I was under the impression that you had secured a more comfortable job and were enjoying the many benefits that came along with it. Is this still true?"

Chrysalis sighed, spreading some hay on her bread. “Yes, my financial situation is more stable due to my new position, but it makes little difference -- I could be living in a gilded tower in upper Canterlot and I would still despise living as a peasant. Changelings do not belong among ponies. We are too different, too incompatible. I would rather live amongst manticores than your subjects."

“Must you speak so poorly of them? Our subjects may not be perfect, but the do manage to live together in relative harmony, their differences settled by discussion rather than blood.”

Chrysalis chuckled, then took a bite of her sandwich. It was dry and tasted like treebark. Everything the ponies ate tasted like treebark. “You speak of it as if it is a good thing. A proper hive lives in perfect harmony; each drone, soldier, builder or broodmother doing their part. Passiveness is for the weak -- what good are one’s words if they are not backed by force? No, only the strong survive. Only the worthy may breed. Only those who prove that they are of value to the hive may be a part of it.”

“Is that why you were exiled?”

Chrysalis froze, her sandwich falling from her grasp. She turned to stare at Luna with burning fury. “My exile was due to a coup, not incompetence! Those fools, my children, were blinded. They did not see the big picture. They did not see what I saw. They knew nothing of what I did for them! The sacrifices I made!” The gray mare crouched like a cat ready to strike.

Luna did not flinch. Rather, she seemed to soften. “No one saw what you did, Chrysalis, and I am inclined to believe that even you only glimpsed a peek of it yourself. You were blinded by your ambition, leading your subjects by your greed under the false flag of prosperity.”

“If a queen flourishes, so does her hive!”

“Not if it is at the expense of her subjects, dear Chrysalis. You thought of only yourself, and this is what it got you. You were a selfish creature, and that fact caught up to you. Now, you live amongst those whom you once called weak as their equal. What makes Equestria strong is our ability to tolerate failure and weakness in the hopes of it making us better. Perfection is a myth, Chrysalis -- no one is without their faults. I would have believed you to understood this more than anypony.”

Chrysalis huffed, then turned away and picked up her dropped sandwich. She wanted nothing more than to rip the alicorn apart, bit by bit, but she knew better. Even when enraged she was not foolish enough to try. Chrysalis brooded to herself and took a solitary bite, followed by yet another yawn.

Luna seemed to take note of this. “Chrysalis, are you resting all right? Your eyes look weary and you seem frail, far more so than when we visited you last month.” Luna thought for a moment. “Is it stress of your new position? Insomnia? If so, I can suggest some blends of our sister’s tea that work wonders to--”

“Oh, don’t act all innocent,” Chrysalis cut off, her anger returning. “This is your doing!”

Luna blinked. “Pardon?”

The grey mare grit her teeth. “Your nightmares have been keeping me up for almost two weeks, now. You are the mare of dreams, are you not? I can hardly account for this many in a row as coincidence. Are you convinced my current punishment wasn’t making me suffer enough?” She went to say more, but had to step back as Luna advanced upon her, horn glowing. Without a word, Chrysalis felt Luna cast some sort of spell over her that bathed her in a quick wave of warmth. After this, the alicorn continued to look her over, far too close for comfort. Chrysalis stepped away. “What are you doing?!”

Luna blinked as if snapped out of a daze. She shook her head. “I am sorry, but if your words are true, then they make no sense,” she began, then elaborated, “I have been watching over your dreams the same as everyone else's, and you have not had a nightmare in quite some time. In fact, you have not dreamed at all in the exact period that you have stated. Not dreaming for extended periods of time is normal, but what you speak is simply impossible.”

The grey mare opened her mouth, then closed it. This process continued for several cycles until she shook her head. “Are you playing with me? It this some sort of trick? I have been plagued by terrible nightmares, each one leaving me exhausted and pained, and you are telling me that that you have no knowledge of them? You are either a liar, or a truly incompetent dreamwalker.”

“I speak only truth.” Luna shook her head. “If what you say is true, and you do suffer from these night terrors, then they are not dreams or nightmares. They must be something else.”

“What else could they be?! I go to bed, close my eyes, and am treated to horrors that make my chitin crawl!”

Chrysalis waited for an answer, but Luna did not give one. She watched as the alicorn began to pace, her face scrunched as she was deep in thought. Chrysalis fell to her haunches and waited for a reply, all anger she held replaced with worry.

“I cannot give you an exact answer at this time,” Luna finally admitted, stopping her pace to look at Chrysalis. “There are some creatures that can cause similar symptoms to what you put forth -- a Domovoi, Pesanta, or even Baku -- but none of them have been recorded anywhere near Canterlot for centuries -- my sister’s wards over our capital prevent their advance.” She paused, then looked out the window at the still high moon. “If it is one of them, then one of the wards may have fallen, or corruption is ahoof. Whatever it may be, I will get to the bottom of it.” She returned her view back to Chrysalis, her eyes holding back burning rage. Chrysalis almost flinched. “I must review our wards and inquire if more citizens are affected or if it is distinct to you. Given your true identity, I would not be surprised that if someone were to learn of it, they would send one of these creatures to do you harm.” Luna thought for a second, then shook her head. “Yes, there is much work to be done. I request that you remain awake for your safety and report to my chambers at the rising of the next moon. Be careful, Chrysalis. You may be in danger.”

With that said, Luna’s horn lit up briefly in a violet glow and her body dissipated into a starry purple mist that matched her mane. The mist wasn’t stationary for long as it crawled into the air and shot out the open window.

Chrysalis, for her part, blinked. She barely registering what had just transpired. With a shake of her head, the gray mare finished her sandwich and trotted over to her bed. She poked her muzzle over to the nightstand and retrieved one of the books, hopped up onto the bed, then opened it and began to read by the moonlight, waiting for the sun to rise.

She hadn’t planned on going back to sleep anyway...

O O

It was now hours later. The sun had come and gone. The moon was just starting to raise. Chrysalis had just got off work. The grey mare trotted down the still busy streets of Canterlot, her cyan hair still done up in a neat little bun and was still wearing her secretary uniform. For the first time in seemingly countless hours, a large frown was plastered on her face. She had gotten good at pretending to care about ponies while working at her job, having to smile the entire time, but that never made her like it. Far from it. As soon as she walked out the door, a huge angry frown became plastered on her face.

Chrysalis made her way down Canterlot's main street, pushing past all the other passersby with no remorse, and headed towards the castle. Part of her wanted to ignore the princess and just go home, but when she remembered that there could possible be a creature that was trying to kill her, that changed her mind. She didn’t like it, but she actually did need the princess’ help. Hopefully, when she did whatever she had to do to fix this, Chrysalis would be able to have a good night sleep and never see the lunar princess again.

She would be content with at least one coming true.

Chrysalis smiled at the thought, but it fell as soon as she found herself at the footsteps of castle. Canterlot Castle was, well, a castle. It was grand, imposing, and everything that a castle was suppose to be. She thought it would look better as a pile of rubble. She ascended the steps, made her presence and intent known to one of the guards, and soon she was being ushered forward by one of the lunar guard. Apparently they had been informed of her arrival, and thus the whole mess had been a whole lot easier. Hopefully everything else would go this quick and painless and she would be out of this place before no time.

The palace reeked of failure.

Chrysalis soon found herself standing in front of a large door with a crescent moon expertly crafted into its front. She assumed that this would either be the night princess’ study or bedroom. She would find out which soon enough. The guard opened the door and ushered her inside. She followed his command, but was surprised when the door was shut behind her and was not followed in. Chrysalis had not been expected to be ushered to the princess’ private quarters and merely left alone. Either these ponies were too easy to trust, or she was not considered a threat. She hoped it was the former -- she had already lost enough dignity.

The room itself was actually larger than she had expected. Back when she was queen, her personal chambers were more akin to a broom closet in comparison. The room was large and circular, with a lower inset level in the middle. The walls that were not lined with bookshelves held large clear windows. The ceiling was in the shape of a dome with a large telescope sticking out of the top. The rest of the room was covered with open books, tables, and other random assorted junk, and a single hearth that burned with purple fire next to the bed. It was surprisingly unorganized. Part of her wanted to do some snooping, but another part told her no. If she had been in Luna’s place, the entire chamber would be tamperproof, with more than one deadly ward thrown in for good measure. It felt like an out of character thing for the princess to do, but nothing she did made sense to her. She agreed with her gut and did not take the risk.

Chrysalis walked around the perimeter of the room, taking care to keep a safe distance between her and everything but the floor, and sat herself down next to the burning hearth, basking in it’s warmth. Luna’s quarters was noticeably colder than the rest of the castle.

It would be some time until Chrysalis felt another presence enter the room. If she wasn’t actively waiting for someone to enter, she would have missed the soft hiss from the ending of a magical teleport. The earth pony rose to her hooves and turned around. She noticed that Luna now stood in the middle of the large bedroom, nose deep in a book as if she had been there the entire time. Not one to be ignored, Chrysalis made her presence known with a loud cough. To her surprise, Luna jumped, dropping the book she was reading and turned to face Chrysalis, who looked back with a proud smirk. “Did I scare you?”

Luna, who took a few deep breaths, calmed herself before responding. “I would be lying if I said no,” she began, then picked up the book she had dropped and levitated it back into one of the bookshelves. “My mind has been at its end with our current situation, so your apparent scare wasn’t much of a notable event.”

Chrysalis thought elsewise, but dropped the topic for something more important. “Speaking of which, what have you learned? Am I being haunted, or is this just a show of incompetence?”

“What I have learned only adds more questions than it answers,” Luna admitted as she trotted up towards the earth pony and sat beside her. “No wards have been broken. The guard reports no breach. And none of our other subjects appear to be affected by what ails you.” She paused, then looked towards Chrysalis sternly. “With what has been presented to me, I am inclined to believe your claims to be false. Fabricated.” She growled. “A waste of my time.”

For the first time since they had met, Chrysalis felt anger radiating from the alicorn. Luna’s calm, forever-forgiving attitude, was gone, replaced with pure anger. All confidence drained from the earth pony. “I-I am not l-lying!” she stuttered, shrinking back and away from the alicorn.

Though she could not see them, Chrysalis felt Luna’s eyes burn into her. She feared for her own safety. This was the alicorn that she knew Luna to be; the face behind the facade. She waited for her wrath to strike, hoping it would be quick and painless.

A sigh.

“As I feared, you speak the truth…”

“What?” Chrysalis’ body stopped shivering. She lifted her head and turned toward the alicorn.

The anger in Luna’s eyes were gone, once again replaced with neutrality. “As I feared, you tell the truth. This only means that I am completely clueless to what ails you.”

The anger in Chrysalis surges. “What in Tartarus was all of that about, then!” she screamed. “Are you playing with me?”

Luna shook her head. “No, I only wished the truth. You do not make retrieving such a thing easy.”

“You enjoyed my fear,” she spat.

Luna’s eyes fell, of only for a moment. “Once, I may have, but not now.” She sighed. “I do not take pleasure in your fear. I despise it. But, if fear is needed to gain the truth, it is a necessary evil.”

Chrysalis wanted to respond, but chose to stay silent. Her eyes left the alicorn and back toward the floor. “So that’s it, then. You’re just going to give up.” She let out a forced chuckle. “I do not know why I expected anything else.”

“Far from it,” she heard Luna speak up. Chrysalis looked up from the ground to see a strangely optimistic Luna. “Just because I do not know the cause does not mean that I will not search for it. Yes, what ails you does seem unique, but that only makes it a puzzle -- a challenge -- and all puzzles have a solution.”

The former changeling cocked an eyebrow. “And how are you going to go about that?”

Luna smiled, her horn glowing. “By gathering up all the pieces.”

Before the grey mare could act, Luna placed her glowing horn to her forehead. The alicorn kept it there, her eyes closed. In that moment, she felt a warmth flow around her like the embrace of a warm blanket. She smiled, closing her eyes to enjoy the moment.

It did not last.

Chrysalis opened them violently to the sound of shuttering breath. Luna, horn still to her head, was gasping. Her eyes were still closed, by the former changeling could see tears flowing freely behind them. She then began to scream, both in seemingly pain and fear. Chrysalis watched in horror.

Luna’s eyes shot open. The alicorn instantly shot back, using her wings in a desperate attempt to get away from what Chrysalis believed to be her. Luna’s panic ended when she backed into a bookcase with such force that books it held began to rain down off the shelves and onto poor panicking alicorn. After that, Luna didn’t move, looking at Chrysalis as if she had seen a ghost.

Both were silent.

“T-that was no dream,” Luna finally managed to stutter out through shaken breath. The alicorn then shook her head and rose to her hooves, the books cascading off of her as she rose, then trotted briskly towards another book shelf and began frantically searching.

The stunned former changeling eventually shook her head, snapping out of her haze. She rose to her hooves and marched towards the alicorn who continued to frantically search the bookshelf for something she knew nothing about. For a moment, Chrysalis just observed the frantic alicorn, trying to figure out how to word the questions that had begun to build up in her mind. Eventually, she decided to give voice to all of them. “What did do you just do? What just happened? What are you looking for?”

Luna didn’t even flinch.

The former changeling began to get frustrated. What was she searching for? What had happened? Why wasn’t she saying anything?! “Hey!” Chrysalis cried out in anger, then headbutted the alicorn in the side. “Stop ignoring me!”

After this yielded no response, Chrysalis huffed and trotted back over toward the fire. She was getting nowhere. She gave up her pitiful efforts and decided to wait the mare out, hoping that she’d give her answers when she was ready.

Sure enough, the alicorn eventually trotted over to meet Chrysalis over by the fire. She sat opposite her, head buried in a book held in her magic grasp. “I believe I have an idea,” Luna spoke as she closed the book and looked up toward the grey mare.

Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “Great. Now, can you fill me in on what happened prior to your little meltdown?”

“Yes, that…” Luna bit her lip. “Well, I attempted to read your dreams with an… unexpected result. I saw… things that I would rather not remember. It did not give me much, but it did confirm that this is not a dream, but something else entirely.”

“And that ties into your idea how?”

“I was getting to that,” Luna huffed. “Although it is not a dream, it seems to have some of the characteristics of one. Which ones, and to what extent, I am not entirely sure, but I do believe that I may be able to enter whatever it is like I would a dream.”

“You want to go in there?!”

Luna nodded. “Yes. In order to see what this is, and figure out a way to get rid of it, I need to examine it. So, I shall approach it as if it were a nightmare and react as such.”

Although she was still confused, Chrysalis nodded. “Okay, I guess?”

Luna nodded. “Indeed.” Her horn began to glow, and once again she lowered it toward the former changeling. “Now, hold still. And, please, try not to panic…”

Her horn made contact. Chrysalis felt her body begin to tingle, followed soon after by her vision flashing red, then black...

O O

Chrysalis groaned. Her head hurt, pulsing as if it were filled with newborn grubs, and she was lay on her side on a floor too hard and uneven to be that of the castle. Had she passed out? Had she been moved? Figuring that laying there would yeild her no answers, she rose to her hoove. To her surprise, she found her vision blurred. She blinked; it began to clear. For some reason, her vision remained it was thickly clouded, fogged. She blinked again. To her surprise, the fog wasn’t in her vision, but all around her. Her head swiveled as she surveyed her location. She wasn’t in the castle. She was outside of it.

“Did that stupid pony eject me from her castle?”

She sat in the middle of downtown Canterlot, from what she could see through the thick fog, but it was different. The street she was in was devoid of life. The shops were closed. Everything around her was covered in a thick layer of omnipresent fog, much thicker than anything she had seen during her stay in the city. Everything seemed… decayed. The ground was covered in a layer of what looked like grey snow, that still fell from the sky. Why was it snowing midsummer? It had been warm when she had entered the castle!

Chrysalis reached out a hoof to grab one of the fluffy grey flakes, but paused. Her hoof was not grey, it was black. It was holed. It was… it was her real hoof. She looked down at the rest of her body and found that, like her hoof, her real body had returned. Frantically, Chrysalis stumbled to her hooves and ran toward one of the closed shops. To her utter annoyance, the shopkeeper had deemed it proper to board up their windows. Had there been a blizzard? Chrysalis shook her head, then ran to the next shop. Like the last, it was completely boarded up. This cycle continued.

Five shops later, Chrysalis found what she was looking for: an intact window. The changeling -- yes, changeling -- looked at her reflection in the dirty window. She raised her holed hoof, the reflection mirrored her movement. She was… she was back. She was Chrysalis. She was… whole. The reflection smiled, then frowned as she shook her head. No, something was still wrong. Why was she back? What had happened? What was wrong with Canterlot?

Having gotten a closer look at the shops, she had notice more that was wrong. They weren’t just closed, they were abandoned. What she could see past the boarded up storefronts looked to be completely abandoned interiors. The exteriors appeared to have been unmaintained for some time; paint chipped and peeling, windows broken, walls cracked, and so on. This was unheard of for the pristine city, and was not so the last time she had visited the district for her basic amenities. Chrysalis also noticed that it was not cold. Changelings were particularly sensitive to the climate. She dipped her hoof into the grey snow and inspected it. It was not snow.

“Ash?” Chrysalis muttered. “Why is it raining ash?”

Her first thought was fire, but she could see nor smell any smoke or visible source. Something large enough to produce this much would easily have been seen from her location, if not smelled. Her heightened senses had returned with her visage.

“Something is wrong,” the changeling spoke again. “This is not right.”

She looked around cautiously. She was on alert. Something had happened. Something big. She needed answers, and she knew the first place that she had to check: Canterlot Castle. With luck, Luna would still be in her chambers, and she would get answers. With her form returned, she would get them.

The former queen trotted down the middle of the street, heading toward the castle. Her ears swiveled like duel sentries, yet she heard no sound but her hooves crunching through the soft ash. She was alone. A single entity within the silent Canterlot.

Chapter: 13

by Chapter 13

[We Will Live On] Part: 1-4

[Eyes in the Nightmare] Part: 1-5

[Eyes of Judgement] Original.

[Reconnection] Part: 1-3

[Without the Impossible] Part: 1-2

[Fo:E - Solar Shield] Part: 1 V.1

[Fo:E - Solar Shield] Part: 1 V.2

[Fo:E - The Lessons We Learn] Lesson: 1 - Luck never Lasts

[Fo:E - Frozen Gears] Story Setup

[Fo:E Short- Sunrise] Short

[Fo:E - Wanderer] Story Setup

[A Soldier's Fight Never Ends] Story Setup

[Fleeting Hope] Story Setup

[Entanglement] Story Setup

[Crestfallen Soul] Freewrite

[Silent Night] Freewrite

[Bioshock: Equestria] Freewrite

[Fool's Paradise] Part: 7 (Scrapped)

[Eyes of Judgement] Part: 1 (Scrapped)

[Fallen Sky] Story Commission

[Fo:E - Paradisum] Chapter: 1 - A call to Paradise

[Dash's Mother] Old Crap

[From Nothing] Writing Exercise