Flurry Heart is important, and some changelings will do absolutely anything to ensure she falls into the right hooves. Theirs, specifically.
Sometimes, to ensure that something - or someone - is safe, we resort to drastic measures. Sometimes, those drastic measures have long reaching consequences. And sometimes, for good or ill, those consequences fall on ponies who don't have any choice but to accept them.
Dying doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. It tingles, not really pain but a creeping numbness. It takes over my hooves and wings first. The numbness creeps up my limbs as I take a deep breath, then another. I’ve got only a few breaths left before… well, I die. I want to make the most of each, but they take only a few seconds, just like they always do.
I’ve done so much to prepare for this moment. My entire life has lead up to this. And yet, now that I’m here, I feel terrified. I don’t want to die! This was the wrong decision!
The cocoon around me slowly fills with a viscous pale liquid. I can see it if I shift, but it’s getting harder to move. Thick, syrupy liquid oozes over my hooves. I wish I could feel it, but it’s numb where it touches. I can’t even tell if it’s warm or cool. The dim light of the cave shines through the thick waxy walls of the chrysalis, shining on my fur with an eerie glow. It turns my pink fur a murky brown, and I wish I could light up my horn to see my normal colors for the last time, but I am far too weak to cast even the simplest of spells.
This is how it ends. My limbs fade to nothingness. The tingling sensation creeps up my barrel. The liquid is rising faster now, too. I wonder if I will drown before I lose consciousness, if I will feel myself choking. I don’t want to think about that, I don’t want to imagine what that would feel like, but the images keep playing in my mind. Maybe my last breath won’t be of air, but of thick slime oozing down my throat and into my lungs.
I would shudder at that thought if I could move, but it’s starting to get difficult to even keep my eyes open. I have to hold on to whatever colors I can see, even if it’s shades of sickly sea-green. I’m not a huge fan of this color, but if it’s the last thing I’ll ever see, I’ve got to hold on to it.
My mind keeps jumping to what it will feel like when I finally die. Will it hurt? Will it burn? I’m so terrified, and I suddenly realize I do not want to die, not like this, but I can’t struggle. I can’t move, I can barely see a few inches in front of me! No, I want to get out, but I can’t! I’m hyperventilating, and probably using up what little air there is in here. It’s crowded, I’m trapped, and I wish I could be anywhere but here.
My eyelids are so heavy, though, and I don’t want to drown. It might be a little thing, but I want my final breath to be of air, however stale it is. There’s a small hole in the top of the cocoon, but it’s only there to aid in its filling of liquid. The air smells like my breath, and I wish I’d brushed my teeth. Then I regret thinking that. It’s a waste of time, and time is something I have precious little of.
Slowly, my eyelids close, though I wish they wouldn’t. I’m so very tired, and I can’t feel much of anything. The only sensations I have left are the warm air rushing in and out of my lungs. In, and out. I concentrate on that. It’s fairly relaxing, and keeps my mind off death.
I’m alone, trapped, with no one and nothing. The loneliness strikes me more than anything else. I’m not used to the silence. I wish somepony else were here, even somepony I don’t like! Anyone’s presence would be a comfort. Or even an item. A rubber duck. I almost laugh at that thought, in spite of myself. Am I delirious? I must be, laughing at drowning.
I feel a faint dampness on my neck, then it too fades. Ah, the liquid is warm, then. It’s a pleasant temperature. I don’t know whether that’s comforting, and I’m just too tired to care. My breathing slows. In. And out.
They say your life flashes before your eyes as you die, but I don’t see anything. There’s only blackness, and silence, and breathing. I almost wish I’d die already, and that it would come sooner, because it’s awful waiting for it to happen. It’s like tottering on the edge of a cliff, wishing you’d either fall or rock to safety. Hanging there, suspended in the air. The moment stretches on forever, pulled like taffy.
My mouth is shut, but I can still feel the liquid brush against my lips. In, and out, and in, and out. If my life were to flash before my eyes, it wouldn’t even start with me, would it? No, it would start with a meeting of strangers I had never met, deciding the course of my life without my say. I’d like to see that, I really would.
In. I wonder, vaguely, what my parents would think of me dying alone. I hope they remember me.
Out. I can’t feel anything. I’m alone, this is it, this is how it ends.
In. A trickle of liquid, but I hardly notice it.
Out. I’m probably making bubbles. Heh, bubbles. No one will hear me die, no one will know what I’m thinking, but I’m laughing, and that’s my last thought. I’m laughing.
In. My lungs fill with warm, thick liquid, and everything fades. I am so tired, but I die with a laugh, alone.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.
She’s not going to make it, the captain murmured through the hive mind, shifting slightly back and forth on the polished granite floor of the royal throne room. He stood at attention, one hoof crossed over his chest, wings slicked against his back. It was a position that meant he would neither flee nor fight in the traditions of his hive, and was only used when facing a superior.
Captain Flex did not face superiors often. As a royal drone, he worked as the Queen’s head consort, leader of the diplomatic core, and a member of her Council. In fact, the only one who technically outranked him was the Queen herself, though the salute was often used between captains as a sign of respect. They weren’t expected to maintain it this long when facing each other, as it was very uncomfortable, but the Queen more than deserved the gesture, and Flex would hold the position forever on her whim.
Queen Quartz was exhausted. She had drank three cups of coffee and was still tired. Only the strength given to her by the hivemind kept her upright. Quartz gratefully passed some of her exhaustion on to her children, who curled up to sleep in her place. It wouldn’t last forever, but every little bit of strength helped, and stars knows she needed it right now.
She straightened her back and nodded serenely at Flex. I know, she replied, brushing against his mind gently. He visibly shrank back; even the comforting mental gesture was awe-inspiring. The entire hive ran at the Queen’s heartbeat, and her mind was the center of all. She continued, mentally kicking herself for not thinking through her actions. Our enemies will not allow it. They will kill her before they allow any other hive to use her, and every hive wishes for her love. They would force every drop out of her, until she becomes nothing but an empty husk.
Flex bowed, wobbling on three hooves, the fourth pressing hard against the carapace of his chest. My Queen, what can we do? Her parents are oblivious, the guards are incompetent, and there are too many hives to subdue. We can’t allow Flurry Heart to die or be drained, but there’s little we can influence.
Quartz smiled wearily and gestured with a flick of her wing for him to rise. The captain wobbled caught himself an inch before his muzzle hit the floor. Quartz rolled her eyes and chuckled, before her expression turned somber again. There is one thing we can influence. We must train a replacement, and follow the lead of our species’ most infamous queen.
Flex’s brow furrowed as he picked himself up. I’ll ping the nurseries, but I doubt we can have a nymph prepared soon enough. Surely there’s something else we can do. Even coming out in the open would be easier than this!
The Queen grimaced as she turned, pinging her intended destination to Flex, who fell into step with her as they chattered over the hivemind. I will require more coffee. To the kitchens, then, while I mull this over. We cannot risk revealing ourselves. For ponykind to discover that an entire hive has been living under their noses, literally… that could mean war if we didn’t handle it carefully. We would face not only aggression from the ponyfolk, but from the other hives as well. Remember how well it went when Chrysalis’s hive defected and transformed into hideous creatures? We cannot be tainted like that. To destroy an entire hive mind in an attempt to gain peace… that is unforgivable.
Flex’s wings buzzed as he flew ahead of his Queen to prepare her coffee. The royal kitchen workers were busy making the castle’s next meal, efficiently working at a rate that no mere pony could match. Their movements were individual, yet perfectly in sync. The only sound to be heard was the gentle hum of their wings, but their voices sang out in the hivemind as they chittered to one another. It was the hivemind at its finest. Quartz was pleased with their efforts, and sent them all a ping of praise, and they responded with shouts of thanks and joyous promises to earn more. Then she focused on one specific voice in the gentle murmur of the hivemind, and called it to her.
One of the workers, a nymph named Yissik, flew towards the pair and bowed low, first to the Queen, then to her Captain, one trembling hoof pressed against her chest. My Queen and Captain, she thought to them, her soft mental voice reverberating in their minds. I am at your command.
Quartz managed a frail smile at the young nymph. She was barely grown, and had only started her work a few moons ago. The nurseries would take too long to produce a perfect replacement, so this daughter would have to do. The Queen’s mind brushed against Yissik’s, and she concentrated, focusing on one memory after another. Yes, she would do wonderfully. Her peaceful temperament would make for a fine replacement.
You are relieved of your kitchen duties, Quartz said once she’d finished sifting through the young changeling’s mind. You are to train underneath my Captains for an assignment that will determine the fate of all hives. Don’t be nervous, my daughter. I have complete faith that you will succeed. Now, report to Captain Aviary.
Humming, the Queen accepted the mug of coffee Flex offered her as the nymph rushed off. She sent a quick ping to Aviary, alerting him of his new job and trainee. He was the head of the army, but would treat Yissik with the utmost care as they worked. The fate of the hive depended partially on her mental state throughout the intensive training. Most changeling infiltrators spent years practicing their craft before they were sent above ground, but they would be lucky if they could successfully condense it into a few weeks.
We will have a replacement prepared, Quartz thought to Flex as they wandered out of the kitchen. They flew side by side, wings buzzing a calming hum. Other changelings flew around them, swerving and narrowly missing each other. The pair came to a stop at an open windowsill, overlooking Hive Quarry.
We will do what we can to have everything ready in a few meager weeks, the Queen mused as she stared at the hustling forms of her swarm, her children. I only hope that it will not come too late.
The first thing I can remember is a distant hum. It’s sort of like the sound of a spell being cast, but I don’t know how I know that. I can’t remember anything, not even my name. I try to grasp onto anything that resembles a memory, but it slips away. It’s just me and the noise, a buzzing that fades into the background. It keeps me relaxed, and I take in my surroundings.
My eyes are closed, and I can’t seem to muster the strength to open them. A strange liquid fills my mouth, gummy and sticking to my teeth when I rub my tongue against them. It tastes sickly sweet, like cherry cough syrup. I try to spit it out, but it’s everywhere, even in my lungs. I try to cough, but there’s no resistance, no gagging, no choking. I must be breathing it somehow, even though it’s so thick I can’t tell if it moves at all.
I manage to pry open my eyelids after a bit of concentration. Everything is a grayish silver color, and whatever the fluid is, it doesn’t hurt when it touches my eyes. I can’t feel it, only the pressure of its presence. I try to move a hoof, but I can’t tell if it moved or if the liquid held it still. I can’t see anything, but light must be coming from somewhere.
A distant knocking echoes through the liquid. It trembles around me, and suddenly there’s more light and the fluid seems bright. Too bright. I close my eyes. Something wraps around my outstretched hoof, and pulls me up. Cold air swirls around me, chilling me to the bone. The humming is loud, too loud, and it hurts my ears.
I cough and hack, trying to get the liquid out of my lungs, but it comes up slowly, resisting my efforts. It oozes out of my mouth, my lungs finally getting the air my mind has been craving. I blindly reach up a hoof to wipe my muzzle off, but I miss. I must be pretty disoriented. I can still breathe, but having fluid in my chest feels so wrong, even though I can’t seem to cough it up. Part of me wants to be worried, but the thoughts just slip away in my mind. Odd.
Somepony pulls me up gently out of the goo, cradling me in their hooves, and sets me down on a cold hard floor. I feel them leave me, and flail my hooves weakly in the direction I think I remember them being in. Whoever they are, I want more contact with them. Anything is better than feeling nothing at all. A spray of warm water hits my side and I curl up reflexively. It trickles down my coat, washing some of the fluid away. I lean into it and rub a hoof against my face. I feel damp silky fur against my hoof, and it comforts me.
I open my mouth and swish hot water around it before spitting on the floor. It did nothing for the taste, but now my tongue can brush against my teeth. I rub it against the front teeth again and prick my tongue. My canines are sharper than I expected, and for some reason I can’t quite place why they feel wrong in my mouth.
I brush water off my eyes and turn myself over, feeling the stream of hot water against my back and other side. It feels absolutely wonderful to be warm again! A tentative hoof brushes against my neck, rubbing my main. I jerk back, but something tells me that whoever it’s attached to means no harm. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes.
My hooves rest in front of my face. My fur is pink, and the strands of mane covering my face are purple. I don’t recognize any of it. I don’t even know who or what I am. I wonder vaguely why I’m not panicking about that, but something is keeping me calm and lethargic. The cool floor I am resting on is tile, and is broken in some places. I turn my head, wincing at the stiffness in my neck.
The creature whose hoof is washing off the grey goo from my mane looks like some sort of monster from a fairytale. Its body is insectoid, covered in a pearly black shell. Its legs are riddled with holes that go straight through it. Against her back, for her muzzle looks feminine, are two translucent insect wings, with holes in them. Her mane is a silvery white, and tied in a messy bun, parted around her crooked horn. Her gentle eyes lack pupils and glow a silvery grey, and fangs protrude from her mouth as she smiles down at me. She looks tall, slender, sleek and almost fragile.
Every instinct I have tells me I should be afraid of the monster in front of me, but something in the back of my mind urges me not to run. I feel calm, even though my logic tells me I shouldn’t. I am not afraid of this being. Is that good, or bad?
I let her wash me. I wish I could be concerned, but I just feel relaxed and tired. Something tells me I’m in a shower, which makes sense, but I can’t figure out how I know that. The gentle monster blocks my view, and there’s a curtain around us. The water flows slowly into the drain, and I watch it trickle down my fur. Sunlight streams through the shower curtain, which is tattered in places. Wherever we are, it isn’t exactly a five-star resort. I’m not sure I know how I know that either.
My head is throbbing. I rest it against my hooves, my chin brushing against the cold tile. The humming I’ve been hearing hasn’t gone away, and it isn’t coming from around me. It’s all in my head, I realize, and I wonder if I’m going crazy. That same feeling that told me not to panic at the sight of the monster reassures me I’m not, which only worries me more.
“You’re handling this well, for someone who’s been through so much,” the monster whispers gently, startling me out of my thoughts. Her voice is odd, hissing on the s’s with a peculiar lilt.
I try to ask what’s going on, but the moment I open my mouth to speak I cough out more silvery goop. The monster smiles at me knowingly. “You must be so scared, young one. Please, don’t be afraid. I am Pyaxis, but you can call me Pixie Cut. That’s what most ponies know me as.”
My mouth forms different shapes as I try to copy her pronunciation, but I give up after going into another hacking fit. Pixie sounds more natural to me, for some reason, so I decide to call her that. She continues, her pearly wings fluttering against her back. “Don’t worry about pronouncing it. Most… changelings need practice to speak our language out loud.”
What’s a changeling? Is that what she is? My mind floods with questions, laced with panic and worry. Is she going to hurt me? Am I trapped here? Why is there goo in my mouth? Who am I?
Pixie smiles and nuzzles against me, cutting off my chain of thought with a loving gaze. “So many questions, sister. I am indeed a changeling. So are you, partially. I mean you no harm, and you are not trapped here. There is goo in your mouth because you have been… ah, healing. As to who you are… I’m not sure how much I can tell you. Your name is Flurry Heart. You are a young mare, born to the house of Cadenza and Sparkle. I’ll get you a mirror, so you may see for yourself what you look like.”
She flies off, her wings buzzing a low, soothing tone. The water against my back tapers off, leaving me shivering on the ground. She must have turned it off somehow. I lie on my side, shivering as the pool of water around me flows down the drain, and wonder how she knew what questions I had. Maybe it was just luck? Pixie returns, a mirror hovering in her magic.
I’m not sure what I expected of my reflection, but it wasn’t this. My eyes are teal, and lack pupils, turning instead a darker shade of blue-green where they should be. They look just like Pixie’s, except there’s a difference in color. Atop my head is a horn with indentations up it. It looks as though somepony had tried to straighten out Pixie’s crooked horn, and missed a few spots. I open my mouth to inspect my teeth. I have fangs, but they aren’t as long as Pixie’s.
My mane is purple with a teal stripe, and on my back are feathery wings. I am young, my body looks somewhere between a filly’s and Pixie’s matured body. I must be a teenager, not quite a mare but not quite a young foal either.
I turn away from the mirror, and Pixie sets it down. I have a sickening feeling that this isn’t what I’m supposed to look like, but I wonder why I feel that way. Is this not what I’ve always looked like? “You…” I spit out a glob of silver fluid and try again, my voice warbling weakly. “You said I’m a changeling? Why don’t I look like you?”
Pixie scuffs a hoof against the floor and looks away from me, frowning at the ground. “It’s a rather long story, sister, and I don’t think I’m the right ‘ling to tell you. Know this, though: as far as our hive and I are concerned, you are one of us. You’re a changeling and a sister.” She blushes and stares back at me. “Welcome to the Hive,” Pixie adds, and holds out a hoof.
I take it, my movements sluggish, and she tries to help me to my hooves. My legs wobble uncooperatively, but with our combined efforts I stand up, swaying slightly but upright nonetheless.
The changeling draws back the curtain around me, revealing the room we’re in. A trail of the grey slime leads from the shower to a waxy silver pod that dances with color in the light. It’s broken on the top, and a steady flow of the viscous liquid dribbles out. The room itself is drab and run-down. Patches of drywall are crumbling off of it, and one side is completely caved in. Rubble is cleared away at the top of it, leaving an opening in the corner of the room for sunlight to shine through.
Pixie flutters over to the hole in the wall, and the instinctual feeling inside my head beckons me to follow her. I carefully climb up the rubble, not trusting my wings to carry me yet, and poke my head outside.
A booming city towers over the ruined building we’re in. The cityscape horizon is overwhelming, and I take a few deep breaths in and out. I’ve never felt so small in my life. In the distance, silhouettes of pegasi soar through the airspace between buildings. The buildings around the one I’m in are in the same state of disrepair. I get the feeling that I’m in one of those neighborhoods where desperate and dangerous ponies live. Looking down at the trash-littered ground below, I estimate that I’m about a story up.
I take a deep breath and spread my wings, but pocketed hooves wrap around my midsection before I can flap them. Pixie’s wings buzz loudly as she picks me up and flies us towards the ground. She’s stronger than she looks, and larger than me. She lets me go as soon as my hooves brush against the ground, humming gently as I unsteadily catch my balance.
“Come,” she says, landing gracefully next to me, folding her wings back and heading off at a quick pace down the street. “There isn’t much time, sister. These streets are unsafe, especially at night.”
My legs wobble as I follow her. It’s hard to walk, and I keep tripping over my own hooves. It feels like I haven’t walked in weeks, and my body has forgotten how to move quickly, but Pixie is going fast and I don’t want to lose sight of her. The last thing I want is to be left alone in a dangerous city, and Pixie has been nothing but friendly with me, though her appearance is still a little frightening.
She leads me towards a half-crumbled building. The corner of it has crumbled away, but I don’t see any rubble around. It’s getting dark, the sun is setting, but Pixie lights up her horn and leads me onward. We walk through a hallway and I’m about to enter the room she’s in when she holds out a hoof to stop me. Hovering in her magic is a rope.
“Sister, this is very important. Do you trust me?” she asks, the rope uncoiling.
My immediate thought is that it depends on what the question is, but I shake that idea away. I get a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I shouldn’t question it, and I should trust Pixie. Why? I wonder, and in response I can almost hear words forming above the hum in the back of my mind, first indistinctly, but they repeat, and then I understand.
Because you have no other choice, sister. It’s masculine and deeper than Pixie’s voice, but with the same accent. I frown at it, then realize I probably look quite strange to the changeling, who’s patiently unwrapping the rope and watching me calmly. The voice in my head bothers me. Isn’t hearing things the sign that you’re going crazy? Am I crazy for being unable to panic properly about it?
Flurry… the voice says gently. Trust us. Another voice joins in, and another. The humming slowly clears up, and in its place indistinct voices murmur to each other, in a language I can’t understand, full of clicking and chittering. Trust the hive, Flurry. You can do it. The voices encourage me, and for some reason, my fear starts to ebb. A sensation of confidence and warmth replaces it.
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath and stepping forward. “I trust you.”
Pixie smiles, and levitates the rope around my midsection. It wraps around my barrel, securing my wings shut. It’s just tight enough to be uncomfortable when I tuck my wings firmly against my sides, but the rope bites into them if I try to relax them. I stare up at her. “What is this for?”
The changeling wordlessly steps aside. Behind her is a gaping hole in the ground, dark and foreboding. It’s wider than Pixie is long, and perfectly round. I step uncertainly towards it, and she lights her horn brighter and hangs her head over the edge. I can’t see the bottom, only walls of perfectly vertical stone going down so far it makes my head dizzy.
“This is the Deadling’s Drop. It’s the closest way in and out of our hive, sister. If you trust me and our siblings to catch you, I’ll drop you down. And please, try not to flail. The walls don’t get any wider for a long way down, and it will scrape your limbs off before the friction slows you down. Thus, the rope, to keep you from instinctively trying to fly.”
I step back. This is insane, there’s no way I’m jumping down there! I glance up at Pixie. Her expression is unreadable, but I think I see a look of pity and empathy flicker across her face. “Are you coming with me?” I ask, trying to buy myself some time and avoid the sight of the terrifying gaping hole.
The changeling shakes her head. “I will remain up here, sister, and drop you down. It is my duty to alert the changelings who will catch you the second you jump. Timing is important. I suggest you jump soon, Flurry, or your nerves will get the better of you.”
I peer down into the hole, eyes wide. Timing is important? I want to ask why, but then think better of it. If I know why, I probably won’t do it, and if I wait, I’ll just keep scaring myself. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Voices, are you there? I think as hard as I can.
They respond immediately, chorusing We’re here with you, sister. I feel a smile grow on my muzzle as I feel emotions that aren’t my own make their way inside my mind. Comfort. Trust. Pure and undying admiration. The voices believe I can do this, and they’re with me.
I don’t think, I just nod at Pixie, who lifts me up in her magic and smiles at me. The pale white glow of her magic flickers out, and I hear her whisper something, but it’s drowned out by the sound of the wind rushing past my ears. My stomach lurches, and darkness consumes me as I fall.
I can’t tell how far or how long I plummet towards the ground. Time and distance lose all meaning. I’m swallowed by the darkness. I resist the urge to flail my hooves, remembering Pixie’s warning. I’m smaller than an adult pony, which the hole could easily fit, so it should be fine in theory, but I don’t want to test it.
Vaguely, I’m aware of a high pitched sound echoing off the stone, only slightly louder than the wind. It must be my screaming. How long have I been falling? I feel dizzy. I might be sick. What would happen if I vomited?
Something’s changed, though. I look where I think down is. There’s a faint blue circle of light below me, and it’s growing, fast. Is it the bottom? Pixie said some changelings would be down there to catch me, so where are they? I look around, and there’s nothing but darkness. Am I going to go splat? I panic, and have to hug my hooves to my chest to keep from flailing. Then, suddenly, there’s light.
I blink. I’m no longer in a narrow black tunnel, but a cave, opened up. Below me is a lake, getting closer faster and faster. Below me, four changelings are diving, almost matching my speed. Their outstretched hooves clasp onto me as I pass them and they turn, pulling my vertical dive into a slant. The water gets closer and I scream. The changelings don’t flinch but they buzz their wings, pulling me upwards. We’re still falling, but slower. We’re going to hit the water!
At the last second, they let go, and I tumble into the water. I surface, kicking my legs frantically as I take huge desperate gulps of air. The changelings paddle around me, grinning at each other, then at me.
One of them chitters at me rapidly, his voice interspersed with panting. I have no idea what he’s saying, but he seems happy about it. Another one laughs, and I hear his voice in my head. He says “Glad to see you drop in, Flurry Heart.” The other two changelings laugh, and I groan. After almost falling to my death, they want to joke about it?
Relax, sister, a female voice says. We weren’t going to let you fall. See, you were going so fast, not even a pegasus could pull out of the dive before they go splatto on the water! At that speed, if you tried to fly, your wings would rip right out of their-
Don’t scare her, Axiom! The male voice chides. One changeling wraps their hooves around me, their wings buzzing. They pull me out of the lake and towards a cavern wall. I can see light coming from a ledge there, and a tunnel beyond it. It’s pale blue and eerie, but I’m glad to see light from somewhere. The four changelings land, setting me down with them. I try to get a closer look at them.
At first, I thought they all looked like Pixie, but they all have subtle differences. One, the most female-looking of them all, has her mane cut short and dyed a pale purple. This must be Axiom, I reason. Another one, that looks somewhere between masculine and feminine, so much so that I can’t really tell what their gender was, has their hair dyed a neon green with beads strung into it. The third and fourth are white-maned just like Pixie, but have glowing paint swirled on their faces.
All four of them also have two pairs of wings. They look almost like dragonflies, I realize with a jolt, and wonder if other changelings have special traits that look like different insects too.
Axiom winks at me. I’ll be walking you over to the hive, Flurry. We’ve just got to pass through the orchards, and then we’ll be in the outskirts. It’s nice to hear your voice over the hivemind, by the way. We were worried we wouldn’t be able to speak to you at all.
The hivemind? I ask, cocking my head as I follow her to the tunnel. Is that what this is called?
Axiom nods, her trimmed mane swishing around her horn as she sashays towards the light ahead of me. Yup. You’re not crazy, sister, trust me. It’ll take some time for your mind to adjust, of course. Right now you can only hear voices of those closer to you, but as you adapt, you’ll be able to hear and speak to anyling in our hive!
So, we’re… psychic? My eyes dilate as we get closer to the source of the light, the tunnel twisting ahead of us. The walls are smooth rock, polished enough for blue glares of light to reflect as we walk onward.
Not quite, Axiom hums as she trots ahead. We can only hear others in our hive. I’d tell you more, but I think others will be able to answer your questions better. I’m just a recovery worker, after all. Besides, I wanna see the look on your face when you see the view.
What view? I ask, turning a corner. Blue-green light blinds me for a second, but when I blink away the spots in my vision, my jaw drops.
Trees that look like weeping willows hang over the path ahead. Their silvery leaves tinkle as they brush against each other, blown by the wingbeats of changelings darting between them. The blue glow shines in bulbs on the ends of branches, bioluminescent fruits that a few small, foal-sized changelings gather, collecting in baskets. Green grass shimmers, glowing a faint green. And beyond it, up ahead on the path, buildings tower above silhouettes of changelings flitting about, neon signs shine, unreadable from the distance but colorful and bright.
Axiom laughs at my stunned reaction. Welcome to Hive Quarry, sister.
I follow Axiom through the forest. A few tiny changelings dart and weave above us, clicking and chittering to each other, baskets slung across their back. As they fly closer, I can hear their voices echo back and forth in my mind.
So, after we finish our harvesting shift, wanna stop by the Pods later? It’ll be nice to grab a bite to eat straight from the source, and I’m famished!
Hon, you know I can’t. That would be totally random, and besides, I told Phylus I’d be an animal for him tonight. He’s a Flutterite, you see. Maybe another night, though.
Aw, but it’ll be swishy! They’re hosting a party, and there’s music and dancing and food, and then they’ll bring out the cake, and I heard it’s got chocolate in it, and...
Their voices fade as they fly off, still clicking in their strange language. I turn to Axiom for an explanation, a questioning look on my face, but it doesn’t look like she heard them. “So, what’s a Flutterite?”
She spins around and walks backwards to face me. A few ‘lings dart within inches of her head but she doesn’t bat an eye. It must be the hivemind at work, I reason. “A Flutterite, or any pony-ite, is a changeling who idolizes a pony so much, they try to be like them. I’m a Sparklite. See my Twilight Sparkle mane?” She flips her purple bangs, and even though I have no idea what a Flutter or Twilight Sparkle is, I nod and smile encouragingly.
Axiom blinks and stares off into the distance for a second before focusing on me. “We’re about to enter the outskirts of Hive Quarry, Flurry Heart. Try to prepare yourself mentally if you can. There are a lot more ‘lings here, so you’re about to hear a lot more voices over the hivemind.”
It’s brighter here, with so many trees around. They cast a cool blue light on us, making Axiom’s carefully-styled mane look dark indigo. In front of us, a bridge crosses a stream, which burbles lazily around the border of the forest. Beyond the bridge, the scenery shifts abruptly to a sprawling cityscape.
I can see the buildings a lot clearer now. They look a lot like the ones I saw in the city aboveground, in that they’re tall, made of brick and wood, and look haphazardly planned. A few look as though they were stacked on each other like building blocks, at crazy angles that I didn’t know were possible for mostly-rectangular buildings. They’re lit up with bright neon signs advertising things in a script I can’t read. They’re made of clear tubes of glowing mana in all different colors. Some of the signs have outlines of changelings eating pasta or drinking a soda, their holes decorated with swirls of light. One flickers with magic as the changelings on the sign seem to dance, spinning around each other.
Instead of windows, though, there are balconies, some decorated with delicate-looking railings or curtains. I watch as a small cluster of changelings land on one and walk inside what looks like a fancy restaurant. Axiom must sense my confusion, because she turns her head to watch them enter the building with a smile. Since everyling can fly, there’s no need for stairs.
Changelings don’t just fly about, they also walk, and I can see lines of changelings waiting to get into one of the buildings. I’m about to ask Axiom what they’re waiting for, when I feel a faint pressure on my mind. With it comes a sense of understanding and clarity. Oh, that’s the movie theatre, and over there is one of the fancier restaurants in the outskirts.
I blink stupidly into the middle distance as I ponder. It must be the hivemind at work. I bet that for every question I have, the answer will probably involve the hivemind, since it seems to be the answer to everything. Axiom laughs and nuzzles my cheek gently. I feel myself flush as I realize that she probably heard every word I was thinking. Does being a part of the Hive mean I won’t ever get any privacy, even in my own head?
Axiom’s smile falters as she leads me over the bridge. I pause and watch a few twigs float underneath it and reappear on the other side. It’s pretty calm over here, and I hope I can visit this section again. The changeling clears her throat and I look up at her. She looks troubled, and somehow, I get the peculiar certainty that it was something I said… er, thought.
“So, you were wondering about privacy, right?” I nod at her question, and she continues, choosing her words carefully. “Being a part of the hive means you don’t… you have individuality, but it’s different. You can keep secrets, and someling will teach you how to hide your thoughts and feelings later, because you’re super easy to hear and read right now. It’s just… unless it’s something super personal, like a crush, or something nice, like a surprise party, why would you keep it a secret?”
I stay quiet. I don’t really have an answer to that. Maybe I’m just making a big deal about nothing. Why worry about privacy if the hivemind helps you realize with absolute certainty that everyone will accept you for who you are? But, then again, if everything is shared over the hive mind, how do I know where my thoughts stop and another ling’s begins? Am I truly an individual, or am I just pieces of others? Wait, I’m giving myself a headache. Perhaps I should save the philosophical discussion for a later date, but I’m still curious.
“So, what about if I just don’t like someling? I’d want to keep that a secret, right?” I press, thinking out loud. The lack of privacy isn’t sitting well with me, and I wish it didn’t show.
Axiom harrumphs and scrunches up her muzzle, as though she smells something foul. “I mean, I suppose, but why would you want to? If you share why you don’t like someling, you could both work together to fix it, and then everyone wins!” She speaks with an air of finality, and though I have more questions to ask, I get the feeling that the matter is closed for discussion, at least for now.
Axiom nuzzles me gently and leads me into the city. The streets don’t have any signs, I notice as I step off the bridge. The hivemind must be their map. It would be so easy to get lost here, with all the neon lights and-
Oh my STARS, did you see the way she was dressed? It was almost like-
My soup is too hot! Waiter, I ordered it to be-
No, really, if you stretch every morning, your wings will get-
Caramel Crisps for sale! An hour’s pay for a bag, samples are free for all ‘lings who-
And then he was like, no way, and I was like, yes way, and then-
This coat was marked as half off, but the price rings it up as-
I don’t remember collapsing, but for some reason, when I open my eyes, my muzzle is on the ground. My hooves press against my temples. There’s just so much noise! It’s like being in a crowded restaurant, with everyone talking at once. And there’s no way to stop it! It keeps going on and on, layer after layer of discussion.
I thought I told you never to speak of that again! Especially around-
I can’t make it to work today, I caught Yixa’s cold and I don’t want it to-
Hey there, gorgeous. You look like you’re enjoying the-
The bookstore is now closing. Please take all your purchases to the nearest-
My ears are ringing, and the world is spinning, and all I can think is that it’s too crowded in my head. There are too many voices! I must be going insane.
And then I was like, oatmeal? Are you-
I’m going over to the Village later, if you wanna join me and-
I can’t hear myself think, not with all these other thoughts! I’m hyperventilating and my head hurts so much, and they just keep talking, and I can’t stop them!
“Flurry? Are you okay?” Axiom crouches down, her wings buzzing anxiously. I try to open my mouth to say something but it tastes like ash, there’s too much going on and my senses are overloaded. The best I can manage is a quick shake of my head. No. I’m not okay. This is loud, it’s too much, I can’t take it!
Axiom takes a deep breath and looks into my eyes. “Okay, breathe, sister. It gets better, soon you’ll be able to tune some of this out. Until then, do you want me to help?” I bite my lip so hard I taste copper and nod. Her horn lights up, and for a moment I don’t feel any different, and I think her spell must not have worked. Then I feel it. One by one, the discussions fade to a murmur. I can still hear them, and if I focus, I can tell what they’re saying, but they’re quieter. A sense of peace washes over me, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“This is what it normally sounds like,” Axiom says, holding out a hoof to help me up. I stand shakily. This isn’t so bad, really. “I’m sharing what I hear with you, until your mind adjusts. Most ponies aren’t used to hearing things, and I read that the ones that do take it as a sign of madness, so, um, don’t worry, you’re not nuts. This is completely normal, the voices are just us. And we love you!”
A feeling of warmth and love surrounds me, so intense I almost fall over again. I can sense changelings focusing on me and giving me the sensation of love and acceptance, and I feel a rush of happiness and elation. My wings unfurl slightly, and I close my eyes, relishing the feeling. And yet, even though I’ve got all this love, I feel… empty, and hungry, somehow. I start to ask Axiom why when she cuts me off with a hoof.
“You’re part changeling, Flurry. You’re rewired to be like us, so… you kind of need to feed off of pony love. We’ll get to that, though. For now, just bask in the awesomeness that is the hivemind and follow me, okay?” She walks backwards, watching my expression with an amused smirk. I wonder what she’s staring at, then I reach a hoof up to my face. I’m grinning like an idiot, and I can’t stop. That would explain why my cheeks hurt.
“Yeah, it’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” Axiom chuckles and smiles gently, and I feel her empathy wash over me. “Most changelings feel this when they’re first born. We love our little grubs, and reminding them that we care is an important part of their induction into the hivemind. And we love you dearly, Flurry Heart. You’re one of us, a sister and a friend.” She reaches out, and I don’t realize I’ve teared up until her hoof gently brushes against my cheek.
“I just… don’t know what to say,” I whisper, and she beams at me. There’s so many emotions running through me, and I can’t tell where mine end and other ling’s love begins. “So, do you feel like this all the time?”
She shakes her head slowly, turning around a corner without missing a step. “Not really, but we can always ask the hivemind for a reminder of how much we’re cared about if we really need it. It’s one of the benefits of being part of a hive.” She laughs and turns again, coming within inches of a salesling selling some sort of iridescent black jewelry.
“Another benefit is the mental map. It’s how I know not to hit others. It’s updated all the time, but that’s too much information for one ‘ling to handle, so the Hive is split into sections. Each part is covered by a few changelings, who keep track of everyling’s position in space. They send pings to changelings if they’re about to collide, and then we change course. It sounds like a lot, but it’s honestly not too hard. You’ll get the hang of it in no time, I’m sure.”
We swerve past a pair of ‘lings as they trot side-by-side towards a shop on the corner. A swarm of changelings duck and weave around each other as they carry and deliver things across the Hive. It’s remarkably efficient, though I pity the ones that work to make it happen. How precise must they be to keep track of every single changeling? I feel like I’m missing something, something important, but what?
I look around as we walk on in relative silence. The shops here are filled with a warm light, and I can see changelings at work inside them. There’s less neon here, and windows replace the signs, washing the road with their honey-yellow glow. Despite the streets lacking any sort of lamp light, I can still see what’s ahead of me pretty well.
When I pause to peek inside some of the buildings, I see changelings weaving cloth out of threads, using the holes in their hooves to guide them in complicated patterns. In another shop, I see changelings comparing different pieces of glowing fruit. Do they grow all of their own food here? Or do they trade some of it with ponies? I save my questions for later, and look into another building.
A trio of changelings are singing along to a strange humming tune. Their wings are fluttering behind them as they sway slowly back and forth, eyes closed in rapture. I wonder where the strange sound is coming from, and slowly I get my answer in pulses of certainty. The holes in their wings create a noise, and the speed they flap them combined with the way they hold them changes the tone. It’s eerie and alien, and somehow beautiful. I take one step into the room, then another, mesmerized.
A tap on my shoulder jolts me back to reality, and I turn to see Axiom rolling her eyes with a smirk. As fun as it is to listen to them sing, we really should get going. The Queen is expecting you.
“The Queen?” I bite my lip as we walk away from the show, the melody still in my mind. “We’re going to see the Queen? Is that good or bad?”
“Oh, it’s good, don’t worry too much about it. You want answers, right?” Axiom looks over her shoulder at me, and I nod eagerly. “Well, she’s got ‘em. And besides, the Queen loves you too, and wants to make sure you’re doing okay. She’s not scary, she’s nice!” Her face lights up, and I feel her excitement ripple through me. She must really be eager to see the Queen, and if that’s all she feels at the prospect of seeing royalty, then I have no reason to be worried, right?
The buildings are beginning to look different. While the ones closer to the forest were built out of wood and brick, these look like they’re carved from stone and something else I can’t quite place. It’s molded together in spirals, grey shimmery material and solid stone. It gives the impression of the buildings growing straight from the rock ground, and they make me feel small as I stare up at them.
The changelings look different, too. There are fewer with colorful manes. Most of them have silvery manes, just like Pixie Cut did, and they carry themselves with a sense of urgency. I desperately wish I could stop one and ask what they’re all in such a hurry for, but when looks at me for a split second all I feel is intimidated and shy. I stick closer to Axiom as a group of changelings hustle past, looking straight ahead and not saying a word.
The hivemind here is quieter, too. I can faintly hear commands and soft conversation going on, but when I try to concentrate on one it slips away into silence. “Axiom? Why is it so quiet here?” I whisper, trying not to disturb anyling around me.
This is Hive Central. See how the buildings are getting taller? Well, the tallest one is the Queen’s castle, and that’s where we’re headed. This is where a lot of the administrative changelings work, like the ones that run the mental maps, and accountants and such. Where we were - the Outskirts - is where most of the recreational buildings are. I can see a smile flicker across her expression, and I suspect she enjoys being my tour guide. I still feel like I’m missing something important, though. It’s frustrating me to no end.
Axiom points up, and I follow her hoof. The building in front of us spirals upwards, so high I swear it pierces the blackness above. Changelings dart in and out of open windows, carrying things slung under their backs. I can hear chittering and singing through some of the windows, and the noise is comforting after the silence of the streets in Hive Central.
It doesn’t look much like a castle, at least, from the image I get in my head. The towers are pointed, and there aren’t any bricks. It’s one smooth surface from the ground to the spires. It looks like someone dipped their hoof in liquid stone, and flipped the dripping, swirling liquid upside down and burrowed into it. Bridges of the sparkly grey stuff connects towers, and I watch as a changeling walks across one, from one window to another. There aren’t any guards, as far as I can see. It’s intimidating and awe-inspiring, and I take a few steps back to try to take it all in.
Axiom giggles. Yeah, it’s quite the sight. When I first saw the castle, I didn’t look where I was going and ran straight into a wall. My hatchmates laughed, and it was a good time. You’d like them, they’re a load of fun, and they cause trouble a lot. I’m the mild-mannered, calm, no-fun-at-all sibling. That’s okay, though, I keep them in line. She gives me a mischievous grin, and I snicker despite myself. She strikes me as the sort to cause a little chaos, and if she’s the calmest of her siblings, I can only imagine the ‘trouble’ her brothers and sisters create.
We walk inside. The junction between the walls and the floor is smooth and seamless. I can’t tell whether they carved the entire hive out of the ground or used some sort of spell to create the castle. The ceiling is lined with more of the iridescent grey material, but a cool light shines through it, lighting the hallway. The spirals of it snaking down the wall shine and shimmer. I’m dazzled by the walls, but Axiom nudges me onward.
“Hey,” I say, breathless at the spectacle. “What’s the gray sparkly stuff on the wall?”
That’s chitin, she responds, amused. It’s the same stuff that makes up a changeling’s armor. It’s incredibly tough, and translucent. If we had only an exoskeleton and no skin underneath, you’d be able to see our guts! She waves her hooves teasingly at me, and I laugh. It’s an unsettling thought, but surely she’s joking. Right?
I pass a few changelings in maid outfits - I’m not kidding - levitating bundles of clothes as they sashay past. We walk past kitchens, storage rooms, and a room full of waxy pods that I honestly have no idea what they’re for, and I don’t know if I want to. There aren’t any stairs, just semi-smooth slanted floors. The hallways spiraling up the castle all look the same, too. Nothing distinguishes one hall or floor from another, and without Axiom leading me, I’m sure I’d be lost.
We cross over one of the bridges between towers, and I have to pause. There aren’t any rails, but that’s the least of my concerns. It’s a breathtaking view. The hive is laid out in a giant circle, with walls climbing up the sides. Changelings flit in and out of openings in the walls, and flutter down to the city below. The Outskirts shine with cluttered squares of buildings and rainbows of neon, making Hive Central looks grey and orderly in comparison.
To the right of the Outskirts, next to the forest, is a huge dome that takes up a good quarter of the space, shimmering like a bubble. To the left, the Hive is mostly dark and flat, but every once in awhile a few beams of light spark up and out of it, flickering for a moment before bursting into sprays of flame and color. Fireworks, I realize. Changeling-style fireworks, underground.
Even though the Hive’s colors seem to be different shades of grey, I’m surprised at the amount of color. It’s dazzling and comforting, from the haphazard rainbow appearance of the Outskirts to the dull ordinary sculpting of Hive Central. It’s not a giant beehive, like I thought it would be. It’s so much more. I beam and wave at the changelings below, and a few flying past me wave back.
We move on after a bit. It’s kind of Axiom to wait for me to take in the view, and when I turn to follow her I catch a glimpse of a gentle smile on her face. I can sense how she’s feeling. It’s understanding and joy and… pride? I want to ask her about it, but I don’t know if I should tell her that I read her emotions. Is that rude, for a changeling to do that to another changeling?
It’s cold up here in the castle. I wish I had a coat on or a blanket or something. Axiom grins sympathetically back at me. Welcome to being part changeling, sister. We’re built for warmer climates, but you’ll get used to the chill of the Hive. I grumble under my breath, and she giggles. We’re almost to the throne room, though, and that’s warmer. Try not to freeze, sis!
The throne room? Oh, right, to see the Queen. I don’t know what to do in front of a Queen. Do I bow? Do I kneel? Is there a book on meeting a Queen I can read? Or a pamphlet? I must be fretting rather loudly over the hivemind, because I feel several changelings try to calm me down. Relax, sister, it’ll all be okay, don’t worry, they murmur over and over. It helps, somewhat, but it doesn’t take all my anxiety away.
Ahead of us are a pair of guards, the first I’ve seen. They stand at attention, their hooves spread exactly shoulder length, and eyes forward. Unlike the other changelings I’ve seen, their chitin shell is spiked and decorated. Their helmets have mandibles like an insect. I slow down in front of them, but Axiom doesn’t bat an eye as she saunters past. She’s not intimidated, so maybe I shouldn’t be either, right? I gulp and scoot between them through the door.
The first thing I notice about the throne room is the wall. The sparkling chitin spirals away from the throne in elaborate swirls around the oval room. The ceiling looks like it’s been cracked, and the cracks filled with glowing chitin. It’s warmer in here, and I shiver despite myself. The throne itself is smooth as melted glass, and the chitin is watery and translucent.
Seated on the throne is a large changeling. Her steel-grey eyes bore into me, and I notice in my peripheral vision that Axiom is bowing low. I want to mimic her stance but I’m frozen in the taller changeling’s gaze. Her wings are spread slightly, and shimmer in the cool light. Atop her head is a crown with three tiny orbs on the tips of its spikes. Her chitin seems to shine brighter than any changeling’s I’ve seen, and her gaze betrays her cunning and compassion alike.
To her right is a changeling guard, equally as fierce but with less poise of the female on the throne. His eyes never leave mine, either, but he smiles wearily at me. I would relax if I could, but I can’t seem to take my eyes of the female changeling.
There is no question in my mind. This is my Queen. This is my ruler, the center of the hivemind, and the mother to the Hive. I don’t know what to do or say. How can I respond to something that every part of me is screaming to love? My breath catches in my throat as the guard next to her steps forward and cries out in a loud voice.
“Long live Queen Quartz!” His voice echoes around the chamber, filled with mighty purpose. It breaks my concentration, and I drop to the floor, kneeling and trembling, fighting back tears. This is what I’ve been missing. My Queen of my Hive, I think. She’s the center of the Hive, and the answer to everything. Her heartbeat is the rhythm that the Hive runs off of. She’s that part of every changeling that I’ve been missing, and she’s above each and every one of them. My Queen. What an awe-inspiring truth.
Queen Quartz stares down at me, full of regal majesty. I wish I could tell what she was thinking as she regards me, a flurry of emotions flickering across her face. With a graceful sigh she steps down from the throne and approaches me. One of her hooves, polished until it shines, reaches out towards me. I flinch, and instantly regret it. But she doesn’t look offended, and it is only when her hoof brushes against my cheek that I realize I’ve been crying. Why was I weeping? I’m not sad, just awestruck. Somehow, I get the feeling that I can only comprehend a little of what a Queen means to her Hive, but the little I understand is shaking me to the core.
Queen Quartz lifts my head gently with a hoof, and helps me to my hooves. I can feel affection radiating off of her, and I realize that, despite how intimidating she looks, I feel safe and secure with her nearby. “Flurry Heart, welcome to Hive Quarry,” she says. Her voice is low and gentle, but carries a sort of in-control firmness that comes from experiencing hell and coming out battle-worn but alive. It resonates in the hivemind, even though she’s speaking out loud. How much power does she have, that even the hivemind itself whispers with her voice?
“Th-thank you, my Queen,” I manage in response, all too aware of the trickles of tears running down my fur. I’m embarrassed of them, even though I can’t control them. Why should I cry when my Queen is right in front of me? She’s warmth and life and literally the center and summit of the Hive.
A gentle hoof wipes away my tears as she brushes against my back with her wing. “You poor dear,” the Queen murmurs soothingly, her voice rising and falling melodically. “You must have so many questions. To think, you know nothing of what’s happened. You must be terrified, Flurry Heart. Still, do not fret, my child. I will answer your questions. Come.” Queen Quartz nudges me towards the open doorway of the throne room, and I follow next to her. Her wing is still fluttering lightly against my back. It’s comforting, like a hug.
“I’ve heard you’ve been getting along well with my children,” she begins, leading me through the winding passages of the towers. I nod back automatically for a few seconds before what she said clicks.
“Wait, they’re all your children? The whole Hive?” I sputter, stumbling on my own hooves. The Queen catches me, laughing softly. I blush, but feel a gentle pressure of reassurance through the hivemind. She isn’t laughing at my clumsiness, but my reaction to her comment amused and delighted her.
“In a way, yes. While most of the eggs hatched don’t come from me directly, they come from my children, whose genetic material is altered through chemicals to create viable offspring with their siblings. Their children grow on to have children of their own, and so on and so forth. After the first few hundred years, the generations start to blend together, so it’s much simpler to call them all my children, and for them to call each other brother and sister and sibling, and leave it at that.”
Wait. They’re… something about that doesn’t seem right to me, but I can’t quite figure out why. I try to think through it again. Siblings with siblings. There, that bit seems off, but I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just a changeling thing, and I should get used to it?
Well, it’s something I’ll have to deal with later, when I have more time to think. Queen Quartz gently leads me up one of the spires of the castle. It’s cold, but I like it up here. Closer to where I remember the sky is. I miss the sky, I realize with a pang. My Queen? Why isn’t the Hive aboveground?
The Queen stops suddenly and I brush against her outstretched wing, scooching back next to her. Slowly, she looks down at me, an unreadable expression on her face. I can’t make out her emotions, even though I’m standing right next to her. I catch flickers of fear, grief, a pain I can’t even begin to describe, but they’re gone as soon as I’m able to name them. Her expression solidifies into a neutral mask. Oh dear! I hope I didn’t offend her. That would be the worst possible thing, to offend a Queen, my Queen.
Queen Quartz sighs deeply after what feels like hours of me mentally panicking. It’s… a long story. Suffice it to say that another Queen ruined our chance to one day live aboveground and intermingle with ponies without a disguise. She was cunning, ruthless, and impatient, just like the Queens of ancient times. Without a thought towards our plan to one day reveal ourselves, she invaded a pony city, was banished, and eventually attempted to take over again. Queen Quart scowls out over the city as she continues.
The first attempt was well before you were born, Flurry Heart. The Queen had been planning this invasion for quite some time, and neither I nor the other Queens of the other Hives could stop her once we knew of her intentions. Her Hive is - well, was - one of the strongest and most powerful. She could defeat any of us in battle, and she knew it, and she assumed that Equestria would be equally easy to conquer. I tried to warn her not to go, but she did not listen, and she soon found out that Ponies were a lot stronger than she had imagined.
I bite my lip and fidget underneath my Queen’s wing. Her eyes are unfocused, and I can feel her sifting through some sort of memory. It’s making her very sad, and when she’s sad, the whole Hive feels the echo of her emotions. I want to apologize for ever making her feel this way, to beg for a chance to lift her spirits. But she continues.
It was quiet for a while after the first invasion, and we tried to win our way back into ponies’ hearts. Our clandestine efforts to get back into their good graces began succeeding, and some of the locals even befriended a few of my children. We had a few unofficial trade agreements with a few of the smaller villages, and for a short time, everything seemed to be going well. Perhaps we could have the peace changelingkind had always dreamed of! An alliance would benefit both species, and we’d learn from each other. It could have been great!
The sad truth is, Flurry, that things do not always go the way we intend for them to. The Princesses had been stolen… you included, Flurry Heart. Queen Chrysalis escaped after her Hive transformed into grotesque pastel moose creatures - don’t ask me how they did that - and she took a few of her remaining followers with her. When the rebel changelings defected, they destroyed their Queen’s hivemind. Deplorable as she was, I wouldn’t wish such a defeat on any changeling, no matter how evil. The disgraceful appearance of her renegade subjects only added to her anger, as is understandable.
Queen Quartz closes her eyes, and suddenly my mind is filled with images of rainbow-colored antlered changelings standing alongside some ponies during a diplomatic meeting of sorts. The altered changelings look wrong. Sick, perhaps. I wonder why I am so disturbed by this mental image, when ponies are just as brightly colored. Perhaps it is because I know they once looked like every other changeling of my Hive: dark-colored, bright manes, eyes that glow gently in the dim light of the cavern. Why would anyling give this up just to look like they fell into a hazardous paint waste plant?
I look up to see my Queen smirking at my thought. Oh, she must have been listening in. I’m glad I managed to brighten her spirits for a moment, but her face soon falls as she continues with her story.
Naturally, we, the Hives who had been fighting to better our relationship with Equestria, couldn’t stand by and let our greatest enemy escape after what happened. We chased the runaway Queen down as best as we could, but it is hard to track a culprit in a land where you yourself are not welcome. Our old friends didn’t trust us, and few believed that we weren’t behind the attack when we tried to explain. I lost too many drones to frightened ponies, Flurry Heart. They acted in self-defense, and I understand that they just didn’t understand, but the Hive was hurt nonetheless, and fewer and fewer of my children volunteered to go above ground.
Luckily for us, our Hive is situated underneath a major pony city. Las Pegasus is full of life and excitement, and there are plenty of ponies up there who are willing to overlook a poorly-timed shapeshift or a less-than-convincing acting job for the price of a good time. Some of our allies have not been so fortunate, and I am thankful that we have been able to procure our love needs from our surroundings and the remaining few lings who are willing to interact with ponies.
It’s difficult, Flurry Heart, but we manage. Still, someday we do hope to live on the surface for good, without fear. The Queen hesitates for a second before nuzzling me gently. I hope that answers a few of your questions. Do not worry, I will answer more once we are seated in a more comfortable spot. Queen Quartz laughs aloud, the musical sound ringing through the slanted corridor like the tinkle of a bell. I would much rather we sit somewhere less hard than the sturdy chitin of the floor.
With a flick of her tail, my Queen leads me onward. We pass by a room filled with changelings dusting off what looks like hollowed changeling exoskeletons. I shudder, but my Queen notices, and reassures me. These are old relics of our most heroic soldiers, she pings to me as we watch the working changelings bustle about. After battles, we locate where they’ve fallen and save their armor. To others, they may be the battered shells of the dead, but to us they are priceless reminders of those who died to serve the Hive. I stare slack-jawed through the doorway for a few moments longer before rushing to catch up to my Queen.
The strangest things mean the most to my siblings, but I can’t help feeling slightly awed anyways. They have so much respect for each other, even though there are thousands of them all bunched together in one little hivemind. Instead of focusing on what’s the same, they celebrate their differences, and remember the outstanding. Changelings have a unique sense of community, and it doesn’t quite make sense to me how they embrace individuality, but there’s definitely something more to this than I first thought.
My Queen turns suddenly, and I bump into her side. I instinctually apologize, distressed that I caused such a magnificent ruler discomfort, but she laughs and brushes her wing against my cheek. “You have no reason to apologize, Flurry Heart. I assure you, I am not as fragile as I look.” I nod as she chortles to herself, clicks and chitters intermingling with her chuckles. She doesn’t look so fragile to me, she looks strong and powerful, but I don’t dare to argue with her.
Queen Quartz pauses as we reach a bridge connecting the two tallest spires of the castle. I can see the whole hive clearly from up here. The view is no less breathtaking than it was the first time I caught a glimpse of it. A spray of fireworks lights up the darker sector of the Hive, revealing buildings covered in faded murals, pinpricks of lamplight, and changelings bustling across grassy ground. The outskirts shines in its neon hues, and the glittering dome to the right of it glows dully from whatever light fills it. I can see changelings ducking and weaving between the trees of the forest beyond. Closest to me, Hive Central bustles with life as changelings fly from one stone building to the next.
I feel at home, even though I just got here. Is it the hivemind that’s made me so comfortable, or some sort of inbred instinct? I’m not certain. I also wonder for a brief moment why I’m so adamantly in love with my Queen, but the worry flickers away like the last light of a snuffed-out candle. I adore her because she’s the mother of my Hive. If there’s anything to be unquestioningly devoted to, it’s her. Right?
Well, if I’m wrong to feel that way, I’ll think about it later. Right now, I’m perfectly comfortable taking in the view next to Queen Quartz. I look up to make sure she’s not bored, and to my relief I see she’s also enjoying our higher vantage point. I can feel her pride and contentment through the hivemind. It’s like a warm comforting glow in the back of my mind, and I catch myself smiling without realizing I’m doing it.
Then I feel a tinge of sadness cloud my Queen’s contentment, and her expression falls a bit. Flurry, she says over the hivemind. I’m delighted that you’re happy here. I hoped you would be, especially after what happened.
I try not to sigh dramatically, but it’s hard to resist the urge. So, what did happen? Lings keep skirting around the answer, but I want to know. I HAVE to know. I feel different, and I look different, and Pixie Cut said I was a mare, and almost a changeling, and it doesn’t make any sense to me. What’s going on? Why am I here?
Queen Quartz takes a deep breath and looks down at me, hooking a leg over my shoulder and holding me in a gentle hug. You were not always a changeling, Flurry. Pyaxis - Pixie Cut - was correct in that you were born to the houses of Cadenza and Sparkle. Your parents were ponies, royalty even. They were the victims of not one, but two changeling invasions, but in between those invasions Hive Quarry reached out to them to make peace. We offered them something long before the second invasion, something they could not guarantee: your safety.
You see, my Queen continues cautiously, rubbing my back with her hoof, after the second invasion, they realized that not even their royal guards couldn’t keep you safe. They loved you, Flurry Heart, and as the daughter of the Princess of Love herself you became a target for every single Hive. Most Hives didn’t have your best interests at heart, so we had to act quickly.
Well… as quickly as we could. Our first attempts to contact the Crystal Empire were met with aggressive warnings, but we persisted. There were numerous attempts to foalnap you by other Hives, and the royal guards had difficulty telling the difference between Hives who wished to harm you and Hives that wished to protect you.
After a particularly brutal attempt left the guards reeling, we managed to make contact with your parents. They were shocked by the hostility of the hives who wished to do you harm, and tentatively agreed to let us assist them in your protection. Our relationship with the Crystal Empire grew slowly but steadily, and we eventually were able to propose a plan to keep you safe. Some Hives, we heard, would sooner destroy you than allow you to fall into their enemy’s hooves. Once the true danger became clear, your parents were quick to listen to our idea. I snuggle closer to my Queen, and she holds me gently, pressing me against her cool chitin for a few moments before releasing me with a loving squeeze. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before she continues in a tremulous voice.
The day your parents came to an agreement with us, we began our preparations and coordinations with them, including the training of a nymph to take your place. The plan was to have a disguised changeling take your place for a few years, until the danger had passed and you could return home. Your parents wanted you by their side more than anything, Flurry, but they wanted you safe more. There had been numerous sightings of enemy assassins near the Crystal Empire, and the tension was rising.
Yissik, your replacement, was delivered to the Crystal Palace a few weeks later. It was during the night of the Winter Solstice celebration, and you and Yissik met outside the palace to swap places. We kept watch over the castle, and we thought in naive hope that the royal guards would keep a decent watch over the palace grounds. We… Her voice breaks in anguish over the hivemind, and I want nothing more than to ease her pain, but I don’t know how. We were mistaken.
It is easier to show you what happened next, Flurry. With your consent, I can show you Yissik’s memories before… the incident. Queen Quartz’s face contorts into an expression of unbridled grief.
I nod solemnly. I have to know. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if I don’t find out who I used to be.
Prepare yourself, then. My Queen’s voice echoes through my mind, and my vision is thrust into darkness, a splitting pain arching like lightning through my mind.
The grass below my hooves are soggy. It squishes whenever I shift my weight. I don’t like that. Curse the dewfall from the evening fog! Curse it to the stars above and the liquid flame below! I don’t like feeling damp, especially now that I have fur. When I woke from the transformation, my fur was the first thing that bothered me. It’s nothing like cool, smooth chitin, and I miss my old form, but the Queen chose me for a reason, surely, so I dare not complain to her.
Besides, this is an unprecedented honor! I’ll get to meet the Princess of Love, and maybe someday I’ll get to meet Princess Luna, too! Stars and moonglow, maybe she’ll even sign my poster of her back in the Hive! I cannot wait. I’ve heard she’s nice and graceful under pressure and everything I hope to be. I could think about her for the next moon and not be bored, but for now I have to focus.
Where is- ah! There she is! Princess Flurry Heart. Princess of… I don’t know, actually. I don’t think she’s been declared the Princess of anything yet. She looks fearless, but I can sense her anxiety. The poor dear. I’m amazed at how composed she is. Her confidence is unwavering, and it’s admirable how she manages a smile at me when she sees me in the shadows. I’m nervous too, but she’s downright fearful. I guess that makes sense, considering her family’s… tumultuous past with other Hives.
I can’t believe she agreed to this. That’s real courage, right there. I wish I could say something to her to make her feel more secure, but the words die before they leave my mouth. She’ll love the Hive, though, I’m sure.
Everything about us is the same, thanks to the permanent effects of my transformation. It’s pretty rare for one of us to undergo a permanent shapeshift, since our ability to change forms at will is our greatest strength. Still, it was necessary for the plan to work, and I suppose there are worse ponies to look like. The last few weeks were focused on how to act, but there wasn’t enough time to learn everything. What if I eat wrong, or speak incorrectly? What if I panic, and accidentally speak in our beautiful rhythmic language instead of that of ponies?
Well, at least I have anxiety in common with Princess Flurry Heart. Her smile looks almost forced. I can’t imagine how strange it must be to her, to see a mirror image of herself move and act differently. I shift uncomfortably in the dress I’m wearing. It matches hers, and she got to pick it out, but there’s no way hers is as itchy and uncomfortable as mine!
There’s a rustle in the bushes nearby, and we both perk up our ears. She probably can’t see it, since pony eyes can’t spot things well in the dark, but I can see the outline of a rabbit between the branches of the hedge. False alarm. I guess we both are on alert tonight, especially after Hive Bramble tried to poison her food a month ago. It must be hard being her. It’ll be a tough few years ahead of me, but I’ll manage, for Hive and Queen.
I hold out my hoof for her to shake, and she smiles and takes it. Her fur feels soft against mine, and for a moment I understand why ponies like it so. Being fuzzy must be comforting when they hug each other. I wish I could pull Princess Flurry into a hug, but if I’ve learned everything over the past few weeks, it’s that ponies don’t usually hug strangers, especially royal strangers.
“Nice weather we’re having, Yissik,” she murmurs to me, and I smile gratefully at her. She even pronounced my name right! I open my mouth to respond, the tension somewhat broken, when a near-silent whisper catches my attention. Princess Flurry cocks her head when I tense up and look around. Ponies must not have as good hearing as we do, as well. Pity.
A quiet click makes her stand at attention as well. We gaze into the mottled shadows of the palace grounds, but even I can’t see what’s going on. It could be just a royal guard on his rounds around the courtyard. They’re notoriously noisy, clanking about with swords and spears. I turn back to Princess Flurry, trying to resume our awkward conversation. “It’s an honor to meet you, Princess,” I say in my normal voice, all too aware of the changeling accent I spent a week unlearning. “I wish the circumstances were different, but-”
A glint of metal in the moonlight is my only warning that something’s wrong. I crouch and shove the Princess away from me, as hard as I can. The hiss of something whirring through the air is the only thing I hear before my world explodes into light, and an agonizing pain races through every nerve in my body as the white light consumes me.
My eyes open blearily to see my Queen’s hoof brushing a few stray strands of mane out of my face. My jaw aches, and I open and close it a few times. I must have been clenching it. I can feel the cool trails where tears have dripped down my face, and I shakily reach up to wipe them off.
Yissik took the brunt of the damage, Queen Quartz says sadly as she tenderly hugs me close. Our guards flew you away from there as quickly as they could while the royal guards went after the assassin. They found its corpse tangled in the hedge. It had served its purpose, and killed itself to avoid interrogation and punishment. Our priority for the moment, though, was you.
We moved you as far as we dared to. The flight from the Crystal Empire to Los Pegasus was a long journey, but you were stable enough to carry safely, and we had to get you away from the palace as soon as possible. Upon reaching the border of Canterlot, though, your health took a turn for the worse. The plague bomb that the assassin had thrown had sapped your body of most of its energy, and you would have begun decaying had we tried to fly you any closer to our healers.
There is no equine cure for the mana plague, Flurry. It drains a pony of their life itself, killing their body and eroding their mind until they fade away, physically and mentally. We couldn’t let you die, so we placed you in a pod and began to convert you. It was a race against the clock. Our healers traveled far and moved you often to make sure you weren’t being tracked as they worked.
A pony eventually succumbs to the mana plague in a matter of days, but for a changeling, there is hope. We live off of borrowed love. The passion of others drives us, literally, which gives us a fighting chance against the mental portion, and inside of a pod we can heal continuously until the plague has run its course. I was so terrified that I would lose you, Flurry, but you have a strong mind and a strong will, and you survived, albeit partially transformed.
However, the first thing that the plague devours is your memory. We have lings that watched you from afar before you were transformed, and I’ll help you contact them later, but there’s nothing we can do to regain what is lost. I… I’m so sorry. Queen Quartz looks troubled, and I can sense her misery through the hivemind, but I feel like I can’t cry anymore, so I nuzzle close to her cool chest.
Yissik, unlike you, wasn’t quite as lucky. She succumbed to her wounds a few days after the attack, having taken most of the force of the mana bomb. With her death, Equestria grieved.
I struggle to my hooves, wobbling slightly. “And my parents?” I choke out, looking up at my Queen tearfully. “What did they say when they found out that I was alive?”
Queen Quartz closes her eyes and takes a breath to steady herself before looking me in the eyes mournfully. They don’t know, Flurry Heart. I’m sorry, but when Yissik died, we had no other choice but to tell them that you didn’t make it either. You’re safer this way.
I stumble back, my back hoof brushing against the smooth edge of the bridgeway. “What?” I manage, my brow furrowing in a mixture of shock and outrage.
To her credit, my Queen doesn’t hide the tears that well up in her eyes. Flurry Heart, I’m so sorry, but to Equestria, you’re dead. You’ve been dead for a few months now.
I can’t move. I can’t think. None of this makes any sense. I’m… dead? Why in Equestria would she tell ponies that I’m dead? That’s just horrible! While logically, I suppose it makes sense, it still feels wrong and terrible. And my parents deserve to know I’m alive, even though I can’t remember them. I don’t even know what they look like, but they remember me, and they think I’m…
No. No, this can’t be happening! I pull away from my Queen, trying to think and not think about it at the same time. Am I hyperventilating? I think I am. I can hear my pulse roaring in my ears. Is this a normal response to being told you’re dead? Is there a normal response?
It doesn’t even feel real, and I think that’s the part that scares me the most. There’s this odd sort of detachment I’m feeling, like I’m watching myself from a distance go through the motions of feeling, and it makes absolutely no sense to me. I get the feeling that I should be more upset, that I should be screaming at my Queen, sobbing uncontrollably, but no tears will come. My eyes kind of hurt from trying to cry, and I take a deep breath to control myself.
The hivemind sends me reassuring thoughts. They must have prepared for my reaction. I don’t know what to say. Between the frequent pingings of It’ll be okay and We’ll be your family now!, I can’t shake the peculiar sensation that they’re trying to suppress how I feel. I know that isn’t their intent, and I can sense that they mean nothing but love and compassion.
It’s the strangest thing, being one little blip of emotion in a vast sea of consciousness. Its like looking at a crowd through a blurry pane of glass. Everyling is still an individual, but the line between one and the next is smudged. Can you really be certain that that’s this one ling’s hoof and not another’s? Emotions are blurred the same way. I can’t tell if I feel reassured, or if that’s other changelings’ emotions that I’m feeling.
It’s the nothingness that scares me the most. I can’t deal with it, and I take a step back, and then another. My Queen does nothing to try to stop me. I can feel her sadness, her helpless grief, and a twinge of something else that I can’t quite place. Guilt, perhaps? It isn’t her fault, though, that I’m dead, and it isn’t her that I’m mad at, and I’m not quite mad either. My next step away presses my hoof against the edge of the bridge between the castle towers. The feeling of almost losing balance brings me back for a moment, and for a second I feel rational and in control.
Then that moment disappears, and I rear up and lean back, overbalancing and plummeting off the bridge. My Queen’s face grows smaller and smaller. Her expression doesn’t change. I suppose if I were to do nothing about my fall, a group of changelings would gather below to break my fall, but I don’t care. I’m not going to kill myself, I just need to get away, fast, and I suspect she knows that.
My wings unfurl, and the wing roaring past my primaries feels nice and cool. It’s comforting, and feels almost right somehow. Then the speed I’m falling catches up with me, and the wind yanks my wings up painfully. Ouch. Note to self: don’t suddenly unfurl your wings while falling.
I flap my wings down hard, once, then again and again, faster and faster. They make a heavy thwoosh as my wings fight to keep me aloft. I angle my body downward instinctively, trying not to fight the fall but to work with it instead.
Swooping low, I let out an exhilarated cry as I soar over the castle grounds, the wind blasting me in the face. Somehow, the rush of flying clears away my troubles for a little bit. I rack my brain, trying to think of some sort of solution to all of this. Maybe I’m just overthinking everything, and inadvertently causing my own misery.
And then it hit me. Not a solution to my problems, just the ground. My wing brushes against the side of a building, and that’s the only warning I get to brace myself before I faceplant into the cold stone ground. I wasn’t going too fast, thankfully, but it hurts nonetheless. I brush gravel and dirt off my face as I pick myself off the ground, looking up to spot a hoof outstretched for me. I accept it wearily and look into the face of Axiom.
“So, how’d it go?” She chirps hesitantly, helping me brush myself off. Her hair is frazzled, her hooves dusty, and it’s not helping me clean off much despite her best efforts. She must have been pacing outside the palace, waiting for me.
“Not too great,” I say. As I’m taking a deep breath to start explaining what happened to me I catch the odd look in her eye. It’s some form of guilt, and sorrow, and desperation for… something, I’m not quite sure yet. Oh. She knows. She always knew. I don’t know how I feel about that.
“Well,” she begins, leading me down the straightedged streets of Hive Central towards the left side of the Outskirts. “I know it must really suck, and I wish I were good at comforting ponies, but… well, you’re a changeling, like it or not. And it sucks that your family doesn’t- doesn’t know that you’re alive. But we can’t change that.”
Axiom shifts uncomfortably, and I almost want to comfort her, but I stop myself. Isn’t she trying to help me? “As Twilight Sparkle would say, friendship is the most important thing to focus on now. You’re here, in Hive Quarry, and it’s beautiful, and we’ll be your family!”
I sniffle. There are too many emotions conflicting with each other, so much that I can’t make out where one begins and another ends, and I’m not even certain they’re all mine. There are too many thoughts, too many voices of other lings trying to comfort me, but Axiom’s here. I trust her. She’ll help me through it, even if her pep-talk skills need a bit of work. I’ve got a lot to work through, but I have time, and for now I think I’ll just try to drown it out in hive life, and see how it goes. It’ll get better, probably.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” I mumble, nodding. I wish I had tears to wipe away, but there’s nothing on my cheeks. Why aren’t I crying? Why aren’t I more sad? I don’t feel much, just overwhelmed, and that concerns me most of all.
“Yeah, so, um… come on! I’ll show you to your room! You’re gonna love it, I got you one right next to mine!” Axiom leads me onward, and I trail behind her, trying to ignore the nagging unfamiliar worries plaguing my mind.
Drone KI-77 scurries through the tunnels as fast as his hole-riddled legs can carry him. He crushes a stinging crab underneath his hoof as he scuttles, ducking below sharp stalactites that jut from the jungle cave’s ceiling. It is a death wish to stand completely upright, but his spine and legs are begging him to do so.
Slowing down means death as well, though; just last week, KI-77 saw the carcass of his sibling after some of the stinging crabs had caught up to her. Those miserable creatures had left little more than a twitching husk behind. They’re small, with a scorpion’s tail, and pinchers the size of their body. While they have chitin like a changeling, theirs is grey and mottled, blending into the stone of the deeper reaches of the jungle caves. They’re deceptively fast, and their sting renders their victim immobile as they crack open a changeling’s tough chitin and feast on their softer insides.
KI-77 shudders at the graphic memory and continues onward, ignoring the burning in his leg muscles. It isn’t much further now. Thankfully, his Queen had decided to let them take respite relatively close to the entrance. Most ponies didn’t venture this far into the Forbidden Jungle, and those that did never made it out alive anyways, so they didn’t have to worry about being discovered.
Those ponies. They had to go and ruin the Hive, didn’t they? They turned his brothers and sisters into monsters! KI-77 hates them with what little energy and attention he can muster as he creeps about in the dark. His glowing eyes and the tattered remains of his hivemind leads the way as he navigates through the cave.
The stone spires tower above him as he narrowly misses one, almost hooking his wing on it. KI-77 heard that one of his remaining normal siblings tore their wing from hole to edge on one of the stalactites. They’re sharper than they look, and intimidating as the Queen herself. He can’t be late, though. That would be the worst possible thing! Especially since he was cut off from her hivemind for his mission. She wouldn’t tolerate excuses, no matter the cause, no matter how important this mission was for the good of the Hive and changelingkind.
Of course, his Queen won’t exactly be thrilled that he managed to fail the mission in the worst possible way.
He takes a deep breath and straightens as the stalactites arc towards the ceiling of the cavern. Most of the tips here are broken off, so it’s more or less safe to walk. He turns around one bend of the tunnel, then another. A snap to his left makes his ear flick, and is all the warning he receives before an explosion of emerald flames dances in his vision. KI-77 blinks the spots from his eyes as he takes a step back.
The flickering firelight reveals a large, spherical room. Flames dance on the perimeter. Changeling fire helps to ward away the stinging crabs and other horrible creatures that stalk the caves in the Forbidden Jungle, but doesn’t negate the need for guards. A few changelings patrol the border, silhouetted by the flames. Towards the center of the sphere’s valley, wax and chitin form a patchwork nursery for the couple of grubs his Queen had managed to produce, and a few haphazard pods for his siblings to catch a few meager hours of rest in between their duties. It wasn’t much, but living in the Jungle didn’t make life easy, and there was no time for anything other than work.
Not that his Hive had traditionally done much outside of duties anyway. There was always training to get better, and a few unfortunate changelings had more free will than the average soldier, and came up with new tactics. KI-77 shuddered at that thought. Free will was a dangerous thing. It was a rebellious desire for free will that had torn apart his Hive. Now, it is a fragile husk of its once-greatness. It’s a sorry sight to see, especially when KI-77 can fondly remember the Hive at all its glory.
Towards the far edge of the spherical room lies a misshapen mound. It’s built out of anything the Hive’s tattered remnants could find, from the husked shells of his less-fortunate siblings to particularly sparkly rocks. Soldiers weren’t made to find pretty things, but they made due. The Queen must have an awe-inspiring and ferocious throne, after all.
The Queen. KI-77 gulps as he edges his way towards her. She lies sprawled across a fire-smoothed slab of obsidian, perched regally as a former spy polishes her weathered hooves to a dull sheen. Her head rests against one of his former sibling’s back shell. Ah, HR-91. She was one of the first to die, killed by a toxic speedsnail after she had fallen unconscious during guard duty. Miserable wretch. The fact that she was love-starved was irrelevant - she should have fought harder to stay awake while guarding her Queen. And yet, she still managed to find some sort of honor in death, by granting her beloved Queen a place to rest her weary royal head.
KI-77 is almost jealous of his former sister as he trembled before his Queen. Oh, is she a sight to behold, the epitome of perfection and splendor. Even when her subjects failed and deserted her, she still glows with might and strength. Though the Hive was weakened, it does not falter, thanks to her grand guidance! KI-77 could chitter praises to her for eternity and still not be satisfied, but that isn't what she wishes of him. Instead, he crouches low at her hooves, one shaky hoof pressed to his thorax as though it was the only thing keeping his heart from shattering at the presence of his Queen.
His Queen wasperfection, and he had failed her. He had failed in the single most important task she could have possibly given him, a lowly agent whose sole purpose before her divine duty was to collect love in a whorehouse. Yes, he really wishes he were already dead. Will she hate him? Will she bestow her justice and wrath upon his weak, fragile shoulders? He doesn’t want to think about it, but he deserves it, surely. He would rather have died like his sister than return to see his Queen upset.
And Queen Chrysalis is not upset. She is furious.
Her wings vibrate with barely contained rage. The remains of the hivemind pulse and writhe with her anger, contorting with her rapid pulse. KI-77’s ears ring with her fury, and he clenches his teeth reflexively. She is mad, as mad as she was when that traitorous drone began an uprising and bastardized the hivemind.
“How dare you fail me,” she seethes, making KI-77 press his face into the ground in terror. Queen Chrysalis waves away the changeling desperately shining her hooves, and he flees in relieved silence. She stands, her body as imposing as the false-goddess alicorn’s. “How dare you fail the Hive, and how dare you fail the mission at hoof?”
KI-77 turns his head to the side, spitting out gravel. A few pieces stick to his cheek as he unclenches his jaw. He wants to respond, he wants to beg for mercy and her righteous judgement, but he knows not to speak out of turn, especially so soon after the rebellion. Such mutiny, even a small act, would add insult to the injury he’s caused his Queen.
Chrysalis hisses at the pathetic form of the failed spy. “Your duty was a simple one. You were to kill a pony. One pony. You had powerful weapons at your disposal. You had a clear shot on a dark night, the guards were distracted, and everything was perfect. And yet…” She yowls in rage, and a few of her children join in with her as her fury echoes through the hivemind.
Scowling, Chrysalis kicks the drone. He flinches, but makes no move to protect himself. “And yet, Flurry Heart still lives on. Our intelligence states that she is alive and healing, and is growing stronger despite this! She is well-guarded now, and our one chance to remove her from the picture and the potential clutches of those who wish to use her to gain power has been lost, thanks to your miserable failure.”
KI-77 cries into the dust and rock. His side throbs. His Queen must have bruised him underneath his brittle chitin, and it was a wonder he didn’t crack and fall apart. She scoffs at his mewling, weeping form. “Do you have anything to say for yourself, you waste of love and lifeblood?”
The drone blinks dirt and tears from his eyes and looks up at her. Her hooves are inches from his fragile form. Above those, her shiny black chitin forms the dim outline of her imposing chest and abdomen, highlighted by slivers of green. Her mane is brushed out, tenderly cared for by the few changelings she spares from guard duty to tend to her personal needs. Her fangs gleam an off-white, reflecting his scared crouched form. And above those, her eyes, slitted and impassive, glare down at him.
“My Queen,” he whispers, before swallowing and starting again. “My beloved, just, kind Queen, please, this drone begs forgiveness for his grave mistake.” He tenses below her, his gaze darting back down to the ground.
A smile flickers up the Queen’s cheeks, and the mood of the hivemind shifts. A few changelings sigh in their sleep as they huddle in the pods. The tension is broken, and Chrysalis nods slowly. The guards patrolling pick up their pace, relieved grins splitting their muzzles. Tenderly, the Queen’s hoof rests on her drone’s head, stroking his smooth, glassy chitin.
And then she steps down with all her weight. The whole hive flinches in unison at the crack of the unlucky drone’s skull. “You are forgiven,” Chrysalis tells the still-twitching corpse below her, before returning to recline on her throne. A changeling rushes up to clean off her hoof, and she holds it out with disgust, gazing into the flames flickering around the remains of her Hive. She will need a new plan. Her Hive depends on it.
