1: Wakey wakey, hooves off ovipositor!

It’s so quiet.

Everything is pitch black.

Can I even hear my own breathing? I can, I can. Good.

“Helloooooo?”

Alright, my voice is working as the big hole in the sky intended.

“Mister shiny wing antennae changeling?” I call out.

It’s weird. I remember wanting to shake the hoof of a unicorn, some pain in my head, and then everything went dark. I woke up here, the big, bad, angry changelings were standing all around, and the boss was here too. I wanted to help as the big baddies started draining him, but then the weird invisible ground here just turned to goop and… ate me.

It wasn’t all bad. I met the big, colorful changeling who didn’t have sharp teeth, and wasn’t mad all the time. In fact, he just looked really tired. He told me to hide, and showed me how. I could dig a tunnel inside here, but in reality I wasn’t digging a tunnel, but it did hide me from the angry lings. I think I even saw mom at some point!

I mean, queen Chrysalis isn’t really my mom, but in a sense all of us hive lings are hers. Still, I don’t like her very much, and boss is much nicer.

Anyway, the other big and scary changelings aren't shouting anymore, but I can't find the nice bugling either. He had antennae instead of a horn and these big butterfly-like wings, can you believe it?

“Speaking of which,” I mumble, “Where is my…?”

Some poking around in the inky blackness with my forelegs reveals a long, rusty spear tip. One quick clearing of my throat later, I spit a wad of green goop that’s big enough to cover the whole thing. As it hardens, it starts glowing. There’s only one thing left to do. A hole opens in the chitin of my foreleg, and I wedge the spear tip into it to serve as a makeshift lamp. The light doesn’t illuminate anything, nor does it help me see the invisible floor, but it reminds me of the good days in the old Castle of Two Sisters with the boss.

I got distracted. So, some time later while I was hiding from the totally not scary please stop asking changelings with big teeth who screamed and growled a lot and definitely didn’t make me almost goop myself when they passed by, everything went quiet. I wanted to look around, but I was scared that it was just some trap for me, and that as soon as I left my nonexistent but totally real and helpful tunnel they would pounce at me with their open jaws.

But nothing happened for so long I think I fell asleep until a crushing tidal wave of emotions woke me up again - fear, anger, sadness, and so much raw hatred… and then everything went silent for good. It drained me so much that my legs were shaking, and I had to lie down again. I think I slept for a really long time afterwards, because…

...uhh, I dunno how to explain it. In this weird place that isn’t completely real, and where time doesn’t pass like it normally should I know I took a really long nap.

“Big words are hard,” I mumble, “Anyway, let’s go!”

I point in a random direction, and walk forward. To bolster my courage, I start making up a song as I go because, to be honest, it’s sorta boring. I wouldn’t bother the boss with it, but I like places with ponies a bit more than the underground. I mean, tunnels are awesome, but there’s nothing to explore here, even the ground doesn’t shake. I like sensing the little tremors my hooves make, bringing with them a map of fractures deep underneath, possible new tunnels, crystal deposits. Here, I feel blind.

So, a song about tunnels? About changelings and tunnels!

“All drones of the hole rejoice, sing sing sing with me. Raise your hooves and raise your voice dig dig dig with me,” I chuckle at the first verse, “Down and down into the deep, who knows what we’ll find beneath? Diamonds, Shuffles, mom’s big throne, miss One making ponies moan. Ta dum ta dum ta dum ta dum!”

Grinning into the darkness lit only by the sickly green shimmer of my gooped spear…

...I realize I’m wrong.

There isn’t only green around. Something yellow is glowing in the distance, a moving dot. Maybe a fire? The scary changelings weren’t too keen on colors, so there’s a chance I might not have to run and hide again.

“Helloooooo? I’m harmless and friendly!” the flame seems to flicker, as if turning towards me, “...I hope you are too...” I add, not exactly sure.

The yellow dot grows and grows, until I feel some presence surrounding me. When I turn my head, everything wobbles, and suddenly I’m faced with a golden leg. Time to look upwards.

Please, no teeth. Please, no teeth. Please, no teeth?

Awww… why is it always teeth?

“Who are you?” it’s a pony, and thankfully the teeth near my face look like a wide smile.

It's a lady, one of the all-in-one ponies, like princess Big Butt Cake! Umm, without the hive mind connection it's kinda hard to think. Celerystick, right! This one is gold, though, and her mane is this weird white that makes it look like liquid more than hair. I should follow her, perhaps she knows a way out of this place.

What to do? What to do? Infiltrate, of course.

"Bzz bzz, I'm a fly," I wave my legs.

Wait, I have wings. Dammit, gotta stick to the act now!

"A fly you say? A fly without a body?" she asks, "A little incorporeal fly in my spiderweb," her darting tongue licks my nose. I boop her in return.

"You're not a spider, miss. I had a coloring book with them, and they didn't have four legs. You're the horny, winged pony like princesses Celerystick or Moona."

The big mare chuckles.

"You are smarter than you look."

"Hey, miss One said that about me often. She also said it wasn't too hard, though."

She rears to her full height, making me turn my head so far up my mouth opens.

"My name is Scream, and I am the patron saint- well, just patron of changelings."

"A patron? But we didn't have a bar at the hive."

Her eye twitches.

“No, I mean I protect and guide changelings through hard times.”

“So… all the time?” I tilt my head. Something comes to mind, “Hey, do you know the boss? He’s been through a lot, and we even survived a mountain dropping on us. Did you help him get us out?” I narrow my eyes, “Are you miss One in disguise?”

“One? No, I’m not her. Nice girl, but a bit too vanilla in bed for my tastes. Besides, she spent most of her time with Wistful before someone cleaned this place out. I’ve been talking to Chryssie mostly in past centuries.”

Miss One tastes like vanilla? Or just in bed? Maybe after she wakes up? I’ve got so many questions.

“So, miss Cream, what are you doing here… and… where is here?”

“Scr- nevermind,” she facehoofs, “I felt a changeling presence in need of guidance, and I was bored- I mean I answered the call. You, my little drone, are dead.”

GASP! SHE SAW THROUGH MY FLY STORY!

I poke her leg. I wanted chest, but I can’t reach that far up without standing on my hind legs. Everything feels solid.

“You must be mistaken, miss. I’m here, all real.”

“Your connection to your real body is severed. Right now, you are inside a small hive mind belonging to someone. Alone.”

“You’re here too,” I point out her obvious mistake, “miss Cream spider.”

“Stop interrupting,” she taps my forehead.

“Okay!”

“Now, since it’s the end of your life, I think it’s traditional for a soul to judge itself,” she says in a booming voice, “Arise, drone!”

“My name is Three, miss.”

“I told you not to interr- wait, Three? Really Three? Like rank Three? You mean like One, the blonde, chatty nerd with interest in history and hive management, Two… the… I actually don’t remember and frankly am far too powerful to care, really. Three? You…? A drone.”

Ah, an obvious misunderstanding.

“No, miss. I’m just a drone, but my rank started with three, and there were some five digits after it, I think. Mom made me as a front line to break through the bubble during the Canterlot invasion, but I kinda… didn’t get there because I didn’t have wings at the time. Then I met the boss. I call him boss because he’s smart and gave me a spear tip, which was the first thing I’ve ever owned. I’ve been helping until...” unfortunately, there are parts I am starting to recall with unpleasant clarity, “...until… until… a paladin pony killed me...”

I stop, biting my lip.

“A paladin, like one of those holy zealots of Celestia?”

“Yeah her - princess Caloria.”

“I think I’ll keep you,” beaming Scream pats my head. I can barely feel it through the creeping cold of horrible memories, “Hey!” she raises her voice and stomps her hoof, making gold sparks fly off from the impact.

“Hmm? Keep me?” I blink, “Wait, I have to tell the boss not to be mad at ponies just because of one bad guy! I mean, I’m not the smartest hole in the leg, so maybe the paladin just wanted to give me the knife as a friendship token, but I took it the wrong way and started bleeding.”

“Shhh...” she scoops me up with her foreleg, lifting me so that we can look eye to eye, “We still need to do something before I decide whether to leave you here, or maybe to help you just to spite old Sunbutt. Hmm?” she winks at me, and I nod, “Alright, hop off.”

A short drop later I’m sitting back down on the ‘floor’, looking up at Scream again. Her horn flashes, and-

“Hi!”

-another Three appears sitting next to her, waving at me, and smiling.

“Oh, hi, me,” I walk over, and poke him. Yep, as solid as my chitin. We both look at Scream, “So what now?”

The big mare clears her throat.

“As I said, it is time for a soul to render judgement on itself. The current you will have to face the best you, your full potential, the best version you could have been. Now speak, perfect Th-”

“He’s okay!” the other me immediately grins. Scream leans backwards, blinking.

“Don’t you want to think about-”

“Nope, we’re cool. High one!” other me hoofbumps my own outstretched foreleg, “I mean, we made it this far. We didn’t get smooshed in the invasion as we should, we found the boss, miss Eight, Four, Ten, Miss One, and even Nine.”

“And Shuffles, don’t forget Shuffles,” I correct other me.

“My bad. See, miss Scream? He’s smart too,” suddenly, other me pouts, “Waaaaait… what if I am the Three being judged? Oh no… he corrected me, which means I’m the stupid one and he’s the perfect one. I failed? Did I fail-”

“Wait, no, that’s not-” Scream facehoofs, “Urgghhh!”

“Nah, you’re awesome!” I pat the panicking other me’s back, “I was here all the time and miss Screech-”

Huh, where did she find a wall to start smashing her face into? Princess ponies are weird.

“-here summoned you out of nowhere. You did the judging, and I passed, I think. So that means I can have you pass too as a judge thingy.”

“Really?” other me jumps at me, hugging my neck, “Thank youuuuuuuu!”

“ENOUGH!” Scream’s voice booms through the place, and the other me vanishes in a puff of smoke. The mare is giving me a glare, grinding her teeth, “You pass, we’re leaving.”

“Leaving wh-”

A white square appears mid-air, and without further ado she steps through it.

“Umm… you said I was dead. Is that my afterdeath? I’m not sure I want to go...”

Silence...

…at least until I hear a new voice say:

“Who are you supposed to be, hot lady? And what’s with the floating pictures of my life?”

My ears perk up.

“Boss...?”

“Dunno, I heard Celestia does alicorn ascension like this, so I sure as hole won’t be outperformed,” says Scream in a tone that must be shrugging, “I’ve got the music queued up for later too.”

“Cool, you’re an alicorn but you curse like a changeling.”

Is that really boss? Do I dare peek through the white square door thingy?

“My name is Scream-”

“Spooky,” the maybe boss’ tone must be raising an eyebrow.

“Ecstatic Scream, to be accurate.”

“That really doesn’t put me at ease. I slept with One, and I still feel holes I don’t have anymore twitching.”

That’s it! I gotta see.

With that, I jump through the doorway.

“Hey, what does ex-tictac mean? Did you use to be candy?” I ask, landing in the same darkness, but this time one lit with flickering squares depicting many changelings, situations, and sights. I am in some too. Neat!

“What? THREE?!” the boss jumps on the spot.

“Well, I have been licked through and through on occasion- oh what’s the point? The drone doesn’t even know what sex is...” Scream suddenly looks depressed.

“Hi, boss!” I wave at the stuttering boss who looks about to cry now, quietly opening and closing his mouth, “And that’s not true, I know what sex is, miss Screech. When miss Eight loves the boss very very much, she drags him kicking and screaming to the cellar where he begs for mercy and my help the whole night while miss Eight yells at me that I shouldn’t go down there because the boss is just being a big larva. The next morning she comes up filled with eggs while I drag unconscious boss upstairs and make sure ponies don’t find him.”

The alicorn’s eyes bulge, and she starts choking. A moment later she clears her throat as if nothing happened, and says:

“I missed something fun, didn’t I?”

“Three?! But you’re dead!” boss finally manages to speak again.

“No, boss, you’re dead. Miss Scream said this was my afterdeath, which means you’re dead after being dead… like super dead.”

“Three, I’m definitely NOT dead,” he waves his hoof around to encompass the flying windows showing what have to be boss' memories. Yep, there’s one of him giving me my spear tip. There’s miss Eight punching a manticore. Huh, Ten got a princess Celeria plushie somewhere? And there’s miss One with Four riding on Nine’s back, “I don’t know exactly WHAT this is, but unless Eight lost my cocoon somewhere I’m not dead.”

“Wow, why were you in a cocoon, boss?”

“Long story, Three, but the paladin who killed you went crazy, and found us while we were hiding in Las Pegasus. Short time before, One decided it was time to make my half-drone body into one of a fully fledged changeling ruler, and made a cocoon in which I could rebuild myself from scratch, and fix my shapeshifting. Unfortunately, it exhausted her so much that when the paladins attacked… they killed her along with the egg she was carrying,” boss goes quiet, then shakes his head, “Eight… Eight ran off with my cocoon to keep it safe on One’s orders. They tortured and killed Nine,” he looks at the floating screens, one showing a huge changeling warrior disintegrating under onslaught of red light. The screens move, and now one shows a small, scrawny, grey and black changeling covered in blood being pulled by a big unicorn out of a locker, “I hope Four and Ten survived. If not...”

“Hmmm,” Scream looks around, “So you’re saying Celestia’s fanatics hunted your group down and murdered most of them on her orders?”

The floating images shift once more, this time revealing the unicorn who grabbed Four in the previous memory being behind bars with Four talking to him. His lack of armor in this memory reveals that his mane is blond, and his coat is pure white, making him look like the most stereotypical Canterlot unicorn ever.

“No,” boss shakes his head, “I don’t think she knew what exactly the paladins were doing. This happened shortly after Star Trail killed you, Three. I don’t think Bright Star was lying when he told Four that the paladins were doing this independently, especially when he later saved Ten and Four from Star Trail killing them outright.”

The screens shuffle, and this time they show a tall changeling mare with bright yellow mane and golden eyes, her belly bulging with eggs. Boss touches the screen, and sighs.

“One… you caused us so much grief just for your own amusement, and yet in the end you saved us all.”

Scream leans closer to the picture.

“Yep, I remember her. Chrysalis’ second in command and later, I suppose, yours, judging from the rank. As I told your drone here, she was always a bit of a nerd, but she kept Wistful company while the other hive mind rulers just kept calling for blood of ponies.”

“Yeah,” boss nods, walking over to a different screen, this one showing a muscular female changeling with wine-red mane and dark green eyes just like mom, “Eight. How I fell in love with Chrysalis’ direct daughter I will never understand. I’m still pissed off that she betrayed me, though. I told her to stay and help One fight, but she disobeyed the one time it mattered. She could have ripped Star Trail in half.”

The screens flash, one now revealing an adult infiltrator hugging a giant white alicorn plush toy. Ten looks super happy, just sleeping with his hooves wrapped around fake Sunbutt, and drooling green goo all over her. Scream frowns.

“Seriously, why do they all like her? Is it just the ass? It has to be the ass. I can have that kind of ass, but I don’t have a castle with custom made door frames.”

Boss just smirks, poking the screen with a hoof, and when it slides away, letting another one float close instead, he stops it. It shows the beaming noodly changeling mare with completely random grey and black pattern again. I was so glad to hear Four most likely survived the final paladin attack. I liked her, she was fun and happy despite tripping and falling all the time. She tried her best to be like me, but without the dumb.

Hey, we can’t be all smart like miss One or Eight. There was a place both in the old hive and the boss’ group even for me.

“The first changeling in ages born of true love,” boss smiles, making Scream whistle, "Eight's and mine... as Three here so accurately described."

The alicorn examines the memory closely.

“That hasn’t happened since Wistful’s days. A pacifist who barely feeds on any lust and finds it easy to get love? You gotta change that! She can become the most powerful and perverted changeling in the history of your race.”

“If One was still alive, she would take that as a personal challenge,” boss makes the memories shift again.

Out of nowhere, music starts playing:

”You’ve come a long long way-
-and I’ve watched you from the very first day-”

Scream stomps her hoof, and the voice shuts up.

“Was that princess Celestia’s voice?” asks the boss.

“No!” Scream frowns.

“I could swear-”

“No, it wasn’t! Next memory, now!”

Aaand the incoming screen now shows me and the boss sitting atop a broken turret of the Castle of Two Sisters, watching the sea of green treetops. When he sighs, tears forming in his blue eyes, I jump on his back with a quick buzz of my wings. He’s a bit taller than before, actually. Leaner, too.

The boss slumps a bit, making me slide off from the right side. Forelegs wrapped around his neck, I swing all the way and land on his back from the left. That was fun.

“Wheeee! Can I go again?”

“Damn it, Three, you’re making me miss you even more.”

I give him the wibble lip. I don’t know how chitin can wibble, but I am Three, the wibbledrone!

Boss cracks, and starts swinging his head around while I hold on like a living hoola hoop. My forelegs slip, and I fly off before I stop in mid-air, enveloped by golden glow. Miss Scream levitates me down.

“But I AM real, boss! I think. I told miss Scream how the loud and big changelings tried to eat me, then there was a male one who had antennae, and he showed me how to hide. After some time he disappeared, though, and I was wandering this place until I met this weird lady. I think she’s like miss One, only even more so.”

Or… am I real? The boss is sleeping in a cocoon, a paladin killed me, the screens showed others mourning me, even how miss Eight painted smiles on ponnequins in the castle armory and…

...surrounded my... corpse with them so that I wouldn’t feel alone.

Suddenly, it all comes together. I didn’t stay in the hive mind so that I could come back. I stayed because… because… I had something left to say.

I walk in front of the boss, and look up into his eyes.

“You were the best boss I could have ever met, boss, but now it’s time for you to wake up. I’m happy I lasted long enough to have a chance to say thank you for everything and goodbye," I take a deep breath and smile at him, "Goodbye, boss.”

This time even Scream stays quiet when boss starts crying. I patiently wait, trying to stop myself from sobbing too. If I start as well, we won’t get anywhere.

“G-Goodbye, Three,” he finally gathers himself, sits down, and gives me a hug, “I’ll never forget you, even if I live as long as Wistful did.”

I gently push him away, then boop his nose.

“That is the biggest honor a little drone like me could want, but this is your time now. Time to wake up, boss- no, King.”

***

My eyes shoot open, and I gasp for breath, lungs filling with airy jelly. It doesn’t take long to get used to the gel surrounding me on all sides, and I quickly identify the crystalline surface of a cocoon so charged with love it could likely survive even being delivered by Derpy in one piece. Yet, while being completely surrounded by goo, I clearly feel that the sides of my muzzle are wet for a completely different reason. Despite everything, I can’t help cracking a smile.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on me, Three,” I let out a message into the hive mind, hoping against all hope there will be an answer, but none comes, ”I will make sure no changeling has to suffer your fate ever again, either being born just to die, or to be brutally murdered by a pony. And if I have to do it by force, then so be it!”

I punch the cocoon as hard as I can.

*Crunch!*

My broken fetlock floats past my head. I think that if it could talk it would be calling me an idiot.

“Hmm, maybe I should drain the love from it first,” grabbing the free piece of chitin with my mouth and pressing it against the stump of my leg, I focus on the solidified love surrounding me, and feast.

It takes minutes and minutes. My body feels vastly different than before, but the warmth of One’s love drained from the quickly drying out goo and slowly crumbling cocoon seeps into me, healing my foreleg, revitalizing my nerves, and helping me ease back into the world of living.

I’m inside a pitch black cavern, I can’t feel anyone with my mind links, and the cocoon is nothing more than some dry grey dust anymore, but I’m back, and I will either find everyone again and make sure they’re the happiest little changelings in the damn history of the world…

...or I will make sure Star Trail’s agonizing death spans centuries.

2: Miners who kick major ass.

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“Hmm,” I poke the pitch blackness with one foreleg, “Okay, seriously, is there something wrong with my eyes?”

It’s never been like this, even in the depths of Canterlot mountain mines. Am I blind? The last thing I need right now is to be blind.

”Alright, where did you bring us?” asks Scream.

“Asking the wrong changeling here, lady, or do you think I was driving that cocoon I woke up in and took a wrong turn somewhere?”

Blinking, I hope my eyes start adjusting, but nothing of that sort happens, and it doesn’t feel like it would even if I gave it more time.

”You’re the one with any sort of continuity here. I usually just have fun in my pocket dimension, or plan some way to annoy Sunbutt. Speaking of which, if you find a good source of magic before I get bored watching you, I might have a proposal.”

“Right now, not bumping into walls is my top priority. Can YOU see anything?”

”Technically, I’m not here. My magic specialization is heavily related to true sight, and my divine power… let’s say it’s not much good for your situation. Right now I’m lying on a soft couch while a tiny bit of my consciousness is being projected through your hive mind into your head and through you into the world. I definitely can’t cast magic without draining your love, and considering you’ve just woken up and we don’t know how or when you got here, I’d say a dimensionally projected light spell would be a waste.”

“I understood most words in that sentence, and I still think I’d be smarter if I did hit my head against the wall. So the translation is that you can’t help.”

”I’m saying the way things are I’d cause more harm than good. I can offer advice, which is also more fun for me.”

“So… you’re not actually invested in my survival, you’re just bored and want to see what happens to me.”

”A… correct enough summary.”

I shrug, tapping my hoof against the floor instead. It doesn’t feel like a cavern, now that I think about it. Too straight, too smooth...

“Considering what was inside my head last time, I’ll take it as an improvement.”

Sighing, I focus on my eyes. One or Eight did say that changeling rulers don’t innately possess the specialized mental powers of infiltrators, toughness of warriors, or scouting instincts of drones, but that they can use vastly improved versions of those abilities by expending love. This entire cocoon thing was supposed to allow me to be reborn into a real king, so here goes nothing.

I just wish this body didn’t feel so alien. The center of balance is completely different than from what I remember, the ground is too far down, legs are too long, wings too weird.

Huh, wings.

The pitch black turns into grainy grey as I furrow my brows. I don’t even feel the love drain, but I know my body is responding to my newborn instinct.

“Good, good,” I mumble to myself, “just a little more- ohfuckmebackwards!”

For a second, I feel my love flare up and burn. I immediately see a well-worked granite wall about five pony lengths away, the tiny specks of dust on it, and two red silhouettes moving -uhh- behind it?

“Stopstopstopstop!” the love expenditure drops again, and now the… room is grey again, but light enough to allow me some decent exploration. I like it this way, it’s similar to when my drone eyes encountered depths with no natural light, and possibly some faint bioluminescent moss back in the hive.

With eyes sorted, I can finally look around.

”Hmmm, this place looks like a vault,” Scream comments.

“Whoah?!” I back off from the alicorn who leans closer, corner of her mouth twitching. Now that I’m less confused than in the dream, I notice that her golden coat is criss-crossed with thin black lines making it look as segmented as changeling chitin. It’s definitely a coat, though.

”See something you like?” her tone of voice drops lower as she stretches, careful to show off her perfect body.

I’m not overstating it. She is the literal physical perfection made to attract anyone, anypony, and possibly even some hornier rocks. On the other hole, One tried this on me before, and while she got nowhere close to Scream’s tantalizing form, I know how this works.

“I need blood inside my head for this, Scream, but if you’re fine with me humping the floor until I pass out then feel free to keep going.”

”Reflex. I am the alicorn of Lust. A fitting patron for the changelings, don’t you think?”

“Yeeeah, so when do you start patroning? Because we’ve been getting screwed over by everyone including ourselves for the past few thousand years, and it’s about time someone noticed,” I poke my hoof through her white mane. I see, that’s what she meant by not really being here.

Unceremoniously walking through her, I approach what seem to be piles of gold in two corners of the rather small room. About halfway between those stands a pedestal with an amethyst necklace lying on it.

”Amusing lack of respect for the only helping hoof around,” Screams walks over to the closest pile of gold, and leans close to examine the coins. She narrows her eyes, pouting.

“Right now I don’t want to bother shapeshifting my ovipositor away, and I’m hallucinating a mare whose looks would make One jealous. I think I’m doing something right, but you sure aren’t helping.”

”So, first piece of advice - I don’t recognize these coins.”

I half ignore her, eyes locked on the absolutely gorgeous craftsmanship of the necklace as well as the pedestal itself. It’s made of pink marble, and just like the floor it’s perfectly smooth.

“I don’t recognize a lot of things. Does that make me an alicorn too?”

”No, you idiot. That means these aren’t currently being widely used anywhere in the world. I have no clue where you could be.”

As tempting as calling out Scream’s lack of knowledge is, she’s right. Let’s say she’s actually very knowledgeable, and that this place is unknown even to her.

“So, the gold and the necklace mean we’re really inside a vault somewhere,” I smear some dust remaining from my cocoon around with my hoof, “Ah hah! Someone must have found my cocoon and thought it was a huge gem of sorts. One DID say she infused it with enough love to survive inside a volcano.”

”This could be a clue too,” adds Scream sarcastically, pointing at a square of greyer wall with hinges on one side.

“What is...” I tap against it, “Steel? Is this a door?”

”Yep. Banks usually use circular ones, but this fits the size,” Scream shakes her head when I push against it with zero result. Possibly even less than zero. Yes, it really might be closed even more now, ”Don’t bother. No matter how much love you think you’ve got now, this won’t budge.”

“I don’t feel like calling for help would be a good idea. As far as I know, this could be the SAFEST place for a changeling in the cold, cruel world. Wait… did Eight drop me off here? If that’s the case, she’s bound to check up on me eventually.”

”Can’t you feel her or something? Chryssie can sense most of her hive from miles away.”

Closing my eyes, I reach out with my mind…

...nothing. If there’s a changeling I should be able to sense, then it’s Eight, but there’s not even the slightest signal coming through my hive mind link.

“Is it possible there’s some magic stopping me from making contact with her?”

”Nope. I’d be able to see lasting magic effects even like this. Every obstacle here is purely physical.”

Welp, not gonna argue with the local alicorn in this case.

“So… is there anything that can help me get out of here?” I mutter. Wait, that’s it - I can mutter, which means I can breathe, and that door looks pretty airtight, “A vent, maybe?”

”Using your eyes allows you to examine the area in greater detail. Neck is a useful tool in that regard, allowing you to zoom in on distant areas such as the ceiling or floor.”

“Oh shut up, tutorial horse.”

”In rare cases where neck isn’t long enough, contact your local giraffe, or use wings.”

Can I ghost punch the ghost alicorn?

Aaanyway, engaging my set of zooming tools, which means looking up and squinting, I spot a square covered with a grate with spaces narrow just enough to barely poke my horn through. A quick telekinetic tug proves that way’s a no-go.

”Huh, not even Fleur de Lis on keto would fit through there.”

Now, the obvious solution is to shapeshift into a fly and get through.

”So, changeling, what now? Wink wink.”

Sighing, I pace back and forth.

“The problem is that I’ve never transformed before, even as a drone. I mean, I made some improvements to my hooves for better digging and such, but I never had the love for a full-body change, and then the thing with hive rulers happened, and One ruined my ability completely. Unless I want to get stuck buzzing for the rest of my life, I’d rather not try it in a body about which I know less than about astrophysics.”

”Astrophysics are simple. Moon and sun move when Luna and Celestia want. Comets happen when either of them sneezes.”

“Wait, really?” I stop, staring at the golden alicorn.

”M-Maybe...” she looks away, whistling innocently, ”How about you start slow then? Change only your legs or something first.”

“I guess I don’t have much choice,” I raise one foreleg just as Scream walks over to the pedestal holding the necklace, “Well, you gotta spend love to make love.”

In a burst of green flames, my forelegs disappear. In response, I immediately kiss the floor with the force of a swung hammer.

“Ow ow ow, I fink I bit mai tong...” I blink out of sync as my legs return to normal, and I push myself up. Maybe turning them into fly ones immediately was a bad idea, but in my defense, I just wanted one.

”Hmmm,” Scream hums, tilting her head, ”Plan B is required, I assume? A possibly dangerous one.”

“Anything that would spare my teeth, please.”

”I’m not suggesting you eat your way out, but if we find some nice mare-”

“Unless I build one from the gold coins, that isn’t happening. Plus, the only mare I’d love to find right now is Eight, and ask what the hole is going on.”

”A faithful changeling, now I’ve seen everything,” she shakes her head, ”Well, this might backfire completely, which would be a lot of fun for me, albeit a little less for you. Grab the necklace.”

I swipe the jewel and examine it. I mean the goldwork is intricate and detailed, and the amethysts are smooth, but I don’t see anything special about it.

“Is it magical or something?”

Wait, why do I hear buzzing?

”Oh no no,” Scream waves her hoof dismissively, ”I just thought it would look good on you,” she beams, showing sharp teeth which shouldn’t belong on any pony, alicorn or not, ”And, of course, picking it up triggered an alarm. In a minute, someone’s bound to come look at which thief is trying to steal from them.”

My eye twitches.

”That should teach you to respect your elders,” she winks at me.

On cue, the enormous slab of steel embedded in the opposite wall starts clicking. The heavy square door opens inside with barely any noise, and a smaller block of steel rushes through. Well, not literally. It’s an equine, but one covered from head to hoof in plate armor. Aside from a bushy beard reaching about halfway down the equine’s neck, I can’t make out absolutely any features. He doesn’t have wings or a horn, which at this point I consider a huge plus. In short, he looks like an earthpony scaled down to half the size.

“Huh, canned love?” I wave at him, and as the second equally armored equine enters the room, I can see him following the motion of my foreleg… with the necklace still hanging from it, “Nice weather we’re having at this time of year, right?”

”Cool, a dwarf pony!” I hear Scream, and the lack of reaction from the dwarves proves I’m the only one, ”I thought those little bastards died out ages ago.”

”Do I knock them out or something?” I switch to speaking through the hive mind. One, to test if Scream can hear it, and two, not to reveal any course of action I’m going to take. Plus, it’s way faster.

”How intimate do you want to get with a combat pickaxe?” Scream answers without skipping a beat, ”Because these guys used to be known for hoof wrestling minotaurs, metaphorically speaking. Oh, and they’re really pissy about certain things, such as someone trying to steal from their vaults.”

”What?” I realize I’m still waving the necklace around, “You can have this back,” I say out loud to the very slowly approaching dwarf ponies who are now armed with a big hammer each, locked into a mechanism around their fetlock.

They don’t listen.

“Alright, screw this,” I lob the necklace straight at the two dwarves, and jump over them as they collide with each other in an attempt to catch it.

Two more immediately greet me outside in the hallway, each as armed, armored, and as featureless as the two inside the vault.

“Good thing I didn’t try to fight.”

“HOFBRAU MAIBOCK!” one of them points at me, shouting in a voice sounding like someone gargling gravel.

“Bless you!”

Real king or not, I guess my job is to FLEEEEE!

”That meant ‘Catch it!’,” Scream, casually gliding next to me as I pump my legs as hard as I can, explains.

”Yeah, he sneezed at me. I don’t want some underground flu.”

Thankfully, the square hallway is lit by torches in regular intervals, so I can stop enhancing my sight, and fully focus on how to get out. I don’t need to improve my hearing, because for all their size and load, the tiny angry assholes are damn quick.

Hallway, another hallway, more surprised dwarves. Sudden burst of light from behind.

”TO THE LEFT!” Scream’s bulging eyes as she snaps her head backwards don’t give any time to argue, and I instantly strafe, narrowly avoiding an explosion of liquid fire.

”Welp, there goes my tail,” I flick what remains from my smoldering blue hairbrush. Thankfully, chitin is pretty resilient to incineration, and the tiny droplets of fire flying off of me as I gallop forward look metal as balls.

”Flamethrowers,” Scream gives the pursuers an appraising nod, ”better than griffon versions, and those guys are supposed to be on the cutting edge of modern weaponry. Not surprising, though, if they’ve been building on Silversmith technology for ages.”

”Can we skip the history lecture for now?” I’m desperately looking for any tunnel that looks like it’s leading somewhere I can hide, ”I want to hear everything later, but for now I’d like to avoid getting cooked. I don’t think I’d taste good.”

”Chineighese ponies swear that baked bugs are delicious and nutritious.”

”I wish you were here so that they’d try alicorn meat instead of me!” gasping for breath, I finally see that one of the many corridors crossing this one opens into what has to be an absolutely colossal cavern. I head that way.

Words cannot describe the sheer size of the new area. I feel absolutely microscopic with my first few steps. I can’t see the walls or the ceiling, all that’s before me is a massive, well-lit bridge which an army could cross without slowing down. Thankfully, there are no more dwarves in the way.

The prevalent stomping behind me draws closer and closer.

”There are larger vents in the ceiling!” calls out Scream, flying above, ”And I don’t see light.”

”Is that a good thing?” I’m turning my head while running across the endless bridge the pillars of which seem to be going both deep down into the invisible underground, and up to the ceiling.

”That means they aren’t just vertical holes reaching all the way up. If you can get up here, you can hide.”

”See? You CAN be useful if you try,” I comment, my wings buzzing. With a jump, I launch myself into the air…

...and crash immediately.

Crap! Completely different weight, wingspan, everything. Another ball of fire explodes a short distance behind me.

Think think think!

What would One do? Charm all of them and eat all their love. No good.

Eight? Run through the flames and kick so much ass while looking like a burning nightmare that the dwarves’ grandfoals would still be scared of lighting bugs on fire.

Three? Be so adorable they all get heart attack. Can you weaponize cuteness?

Four? Make friends. Eeeh, still nope. Friendship might be magic, but napalm is napalm.

Alright, don’t think like a king, think like a drone. Hmm, this is an idea that could work!

While I can’t shapeshift properly, I can still drop the density of my chitin to minimum, and grow tiny hooks all over my legs. One experimental poke of the enormous pillar later, I smile, and start crawling up like a spider. Some more adjustments later, I’m trotting up the smooth vertical surface while the dwarves keep screaming something.

”Neat!” Scream claps her hooves together, following my progress up onto the ceiling, ”Now, can you walk upside down?”

That remains to be seen-

“Bluh...” I take my first tentative steps on the thankfully less smooth ceiling, “This is weeeeird...”

”If it helps, the dwarves gave up.”

“How the hole did they build all this anyway?” I complain while pushing myself into a square vent and walking vertically yet again. These can’t have been built by the dwarves, right? They’re MY size. Soon, though, a horizontal vent crosses this one, and I lie down, gasping for breath. As the adrenaline overdose gradually stops, I realize how exhausted I am, and that I’m shaking all over.

”History lesson later, as you said,” Scream sits down by my head, her firm yet supple butt squishing against the cool stone even in illusionary form. I wish I could grab it, and just mush my head against it like a pillow. If this is how she affects others as a hallucination, then I’m not sure if I would want to meet her for real, ”Now rest. I don’t know what you did, but that climb can’t have been easy. Since I can’t go too far away from you, I can’t just scout ahead. Besides, if I warned you about everything it would be so booooring.”

“I could go for some boredom. No paladins, no angry fire, no coughing dwares. Just me, Four bugging me about something silly, One and Eight trying to one-up each other, Ten hugging his Celestia plushie while he thinks no one is looking...” I realize my eyes are tearing up, “I want it back… I want them back,” I sigh, “Go on, you can laugh now.”

”Trust me, I know better than anyone how it feels to love someone who is out of your reach, to yearn for life which you can’t get back due to the ’glorious Sunslut’ herself,” she ends up growling, but lightens up immediately, ”But I got very lucky with some outside help, and things are… acceptable right now. Consider me your ‘outside help’.”

“You know… I get the feeling that you’re just using me, but without you I’d be either still bashing my head against the vault door, or pretending to be a torch, so… thanks, I guess.”

”HAH! That’s my good deed for the day, and now I can watch you stew again,” Scream stands back up, leaving the vicinity of my head unpleasantly butt-less, ”Are you gonna lie there feeling pity for yourself, or are we moving up and up in the world? These vents must lead to the surface.”

Frowning, I admit she’s right, and push myself back on all fours. Now, how to find the right way? Fresher air? Fresher air!

In the same way as it was with my eyes, I focus on my nose, and feel the now familiar faint drain on my love reserves. I sniff the air, walk a bit further into the vent, then sniff again.

“Waaaaaaaait...” I furrow my brows, “Something’s wrong that way,” I nod deeper into the tunnel, and carefully progress through the web of hallway-sized vents, climbing up when necessary. The faint minty scent grows stronger and stronger, until…

”Oh my,” Scream smiles, ”I like this.”

A female earthpony- no, too small. A naked female dwarf pony is lying on her back on the floor, legs spread and glued to the stones with green goo. Her belly looks ‘saggy’ and loose, as if a changeling used her way too much to repeatedly lay eggs into her and make her give birth. Thankfully, it’s rather warm here, and to my enhanced nose she practically reeks of changeling venom overdose slowing down her body functions.

Near her, in a huge cocoon lying on the floor, rests a… huge… brown… horned… biped? Very male, judging his lower regions.

“Scream, what is this creature?” I poke the cocoon.

”A minotaur.”

Just like the… overused dwarven broodmother, he’s deep in artificial sleep. The problem is that with so much venom, they could have been here like this for months. Even longer possibly. I know that some of the captured ponies back in the hive lasted for years with barely any food or water.

“Can you see any disturbed dust or something, Scream?” I mumble, touching the broodmare’s belly.

”Nope.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” I frown, “A changeling set this up, but hasn’t been here for a very long time. That either means he or she didn’t need this base anymore, or they got caught and haven’t escaped. Plus, considering the mare’s state, there should be way more than one changeling, unless all the earlier eggs failed to hatch, but there are no remains here.”

”Maybe the changeling who brought you here? Your… Eight, was it?”

“That’s my first guess too, but if she hasn’t been here in a really long time, AND I woke up elsewhere, then something must have happened to her.”

”Maybe these two would know.”

“Yeah, but if I wake them up, they won’t last more than few hours. I need to get them some food and water.”

”I know where you can find some. Cough cough CHANGEling.”

“Unfortunately, so do I,” I bite my lip, concentrating, “This is going to suck.”

With a passable dwarf body in front of me, I have a form I can copy. It takes forever by changeling standards, but Scream doesn’t say anything, only watches me as green fire gradually sculpts my body into a completely different shape. Minutes later, I look at the alicorn and ask:

“How do I look?”

”Not bad, actually, for your first time. Just do something about the voice, the bloated belly dragging on the floor, the barely working legs, and you’ll be okay.”

“Good-” I clear my throat, and my voice changes pitch along with other parts of my body gaining firmness, “Good. You understand those… dwarves, do you? Can you translate in case we meet someone?”

”To a degree, yes. You doing the talking will be the difficult part. Dwarvish isn’t easy if you haven’t been breathing coal dust since birth.”

“If worst comes to worst, I know I’m faster than they are, and I won’t get lost. It’s a changeling thing.”

”Useful. Anything else?”

“Can you make me not be here, and turn back time before Star Trail rammed a combat knife into Three’s skull?”

”Nope.”

“Then I guess it’s time to go.”

With a quick temporary change back into myself for the climb down the vents and the bridge pillars, I’m soon retracing my steps through the dwarf halls. The quiet adventure ends when I approach what looks like a guard post - a barricade of stone blocks with narrow empty space inbetween covered in barbed wire. Two steel helmets with slits for eyes look out from behind the stone part when they see me approach.

“STAROBRNO!” rumbles one dwarf.
”Halt!” Scream translates immediately.

”What now?” I ask mentally, ”They seem pissed already.”

”It’s the helmets, I think. Say ‘Einbecker mai-ur-bock’, it means you were looking for gems.”

”You mean WITHOUT any equipment?”

”Got any better idea? Feel free to say it and I’ll translate.”

“Einbecker mai-ur-bock,” I concede, and repeat Scream’s phrase as carefully as I can.

“GULDEN DRAAK HEINEKEN?!” the first dwarf jumps over the heavy block of stone, shaking an axe at me.

”Scream? SCREAM? He looks even more mad than before. What is he saying?”

The alicorn chuckles nervously, scratching her horn with her wing.

”I… may have forgotten about some more… contextual words.”

”Scream… What. Did. He. Say?”

”The accurate translation is… something along the lines of ‘What did you say about my mother?’.”

My eye twitches so much I feel as if I’m having a seizure.

”Can I start hallucinating Three instead of you from now on, PLEASE?” I groan.

”YOU try not speaking a language for two thousand years and see how good you are.”

The second dwarf jumps over the barricade, aiming a flamethrower straight at me.

3: It's time to d-d-d-duel!

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Staring into the black nozzle of the flamethrower, and expecting it to quickly become brighter than the sun, I’m surprised my legs aren’t crumbling under me.

”Scream, haaaalp!”

”Wait, did you get all the way here by telling others to do something instead of doing it yourself?”

Huh...

”MORE OR LESS!”

”Alright, alright then. My advice is… make yourself less flammable.”

”I WANT THREE BAAAAACK! Well, no. Right now I want One or Eight back.”

”And I want my fun,” Scream pouts, ”Do something amusing.”

Stupid. Gold. Unhelpful. Horse.

The fact that she’s right about me being about as useful as a chocolate teaspoon only makes it worse.

Alright. Breathe in, breathe out. Infiltrate. What have you learned from your best infiltrators?

“Bzz, bzz, I’m a- no, scratch that,” I sit down, and cross my forelegs on my chest. This way I look harmless, and it’s not as if I could outrun a ball of fire from this close, ”Scream, their whole language sounds like One choking on globs of goo-”

”Booo, missed dick joke opportunity!” she’s now waving her hoof in front of one of the dwarf helmet’s letterbox slot for eyes.

Fine, I can see I’m in this one alone.

”-so translate that I think his mother was a fine lady.”

”Abita jockamo aass juleol.”

“A-Abita jockamo aass juleol,” spurred on by Scream’s last mistranslation, I do my best to repeat the phrase as accurately as possible.

Both dwarves freeze completely, and I can pretty much feel the eyes hidden by the helmet narrow. From the corner of my own, I see Scream rolling on the floor, choking back laughter with one hoof.

“PILSNER URQUELL STAROPRAMEN!” the dwarf roars, raising his axe.

“Ayinger brau-weisse, ayinger brau-weisse!” the flamethrower dwarf stops the axe bearer by grabbing his tail with his teeth while not letting the flamethrower nozzle connected to his foreleg move an inch. The furiously swinging axe whistles repeatedly a short distance away from my nose.

”Do I even want to know what you translated this time?” I lean just a little bit away from the gradually slowing down dwarf. Scream forces her gasping for breath under control, and wipes a tear from her eye.

”You’re not pinning this one on me, buggy boy,” she snickers again, ”It’s your fault for stuttering. You said his mother was a fine laddie, not lady.

I whimper as I feel my eye twitch again. This is going to be a long day.

”Okay, let’s get back to basics. How do I say I’m sorry?”

”You can say that in ponish. I’m sure he’ll get the meaning while you scream as he chops you up.”

The dwarf seems to have calmed down, and jumps back behind the barricade while the other one is still keeping an eye on me.

“Ahh?!” I jump backwards when a thrown wooden table lands in front of me. The angry dwarf returns with a backpack containing… two small metal cups and a bottle?

“Dos equis!” he sits down by the table, growling.

”What is he-”

“DOS. EQUIS,” he repeats.

”I don’t always fight, but when I do, it’s a duel of honor,” translates Scream, ”I completely forgot that these guys used to settle all their internal struggles with drinking contests.”

”You’re kidding...”

”He CAN chop your head off if you refuse. I wasn’t joking when I said dwarf ponies were the best warriors around. This is just the preferred way of settling disputes. The loser passes out while the winner wobbles home with his honor restored or whatever point they were trying to make proven.”

I’m already sitting down to the other side of the table. The furious metal bucket pours some clear liquid into both cups, and shoves one to me.

“Drax!”
”Drink.”

”Yeah, I think I got that one.”

After some careful examination of the tear-inducing liquid, I look at the dwarf who takes his helmet off. He does look like an earthpony scaled down, similar to the broodmare I found, discounting the long, bushy beard. In one quick swig, he downs his drink, glaring at me expectantly.

”Eugh,” Scream sniffs the cup, ”See you tomorrow if you don’t go blind. This stuff could clean stained glass.”

Oh, great hole in the sky, what did I do to deserve this? I should have joined the invasion and died like a good drone. Is this karma?

Welp, time to bite the bullet. Or drink the paint stripper, to be accurate.

“Hmmm…” I smack my lips, “Tastes faintly of apples. Not bad, actually.”

My ‘opponent’ pours another for both of us, scowling. Then he totals his cup again. With a shrug, I drink my own portion. The dwarf’s eyes narrow even further, making it obvious why such tiny slot in their helmets is sufficient. The flamethrower dwarf, however, lowers his foreleg a little.

When another round ends with a third of the bottle gone, I only feel a little warmer, and the second dwarf is now eagerly watching the ‘duel’, weapon lowered completely.

After the second third of the bottle, the fire dwarf’s helmet is off, and he stomps his steel-plated hoof against the table when each round is done, while the insulted one is visibly swaying from side to side, mumbling things so slurred that Scream can’t even translate. I guess it’s up to me to pour the drinks now. I know how it goes.

Suddenly, the dwarf keels on his back like an overturned turtle, moving his legs in the air in slow motion.

“Dinkel… acker… dark… franz... iskaner… waiss...bier...” he passes out. Or dies, I can’t be sure, really. His companion doesn’t look bothered, though.

”He said - hey, the five of you can’t be dwarves,” Scream puts her incorporeal hoof on my nose, then looks me in the eyes, ”Are you okay? I’m pretty sure that a normal pony would be melting if they drank as much as you did.”

”I don’t feel any different, really. A bit warmer and full, but nothing bad.”

”Note to self - avoid girls’ drunk night out with Chryssie.”

“Gaffel kolsch,” the surviving dwarf shakes his head, pokes me, then tosses both the table and his colleague back behind the barricade. These guys really are strong.

”You win.”

”Scream, how do I ask where some food and water is?”

”By their standards, water is for cleaning, not drinking. Ask for beer. It goes ‘Jasne zamkove svijany kulmbacher pils’. I’d be worried about you messing it up again, but after seeing you drink I’m toying with the possibility that you could ‘slay’ half of their armed forces.”

“Jasne zamkove svijany kulmbacher pils?”

”Good bug. See? You’re getting the hang of it. Here, have a reward butt,” she swings her wide hips right in front of my face, flicking her tail through my head.

My breathing quickens immediately. I have to look away not to lunge at her, or more likely through her at the dwarf.

”Shoo! Shoo! Bad sluticorn!”

”Hmmm… getting more receptive. I like that,” with a wink -OF AN EYE, you perverts- Scream trots off to look at the now snoring victim of our duel.

“Klaster lager la chouffe la rossa kaiser kirin ichiban,” answers the sober, probably, sentry.
”It’s left from the armory 3a, right from the armory 3b, and across from the armory 3c.”

”They’re big on metalwork and drinking, aren’t they?”

”Understatement of the century,” chuckles Scream.

”So, how do I ask where the armory is?” I look Scream’s way while being let inside the barricade.

“Aas juleol,” the dwarf points down the long corridor, then waves his foreleg to the left, “Bucking bock.”

”Did he just swear at me?”

”No, he said that the armory was that way, and that it’s close.”

“Thank you,” I say absent-mindedly, and head off the way he showed.

“Butty bach,” he sits down as if the entire episode didn’t happen.
”You’re welcome.”

Mhm.

”Three, two, one-” I hear Scream count down to something.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait!

”He understood what I was saying?”

”-zero,” Scream gives me a smug grin, then returns to examining the little marks and plaques I can now see marking each long tunnel. This place must be built like a grid, but unless there are only few dwarves living in the underground complex we must be on the outskirts of their… city, town, thingy, ”Yep. Anyway, this is the pantry,” she stops by a door identical to any other, only marked with a different set of angular slashes in the stones above.

Shrugging, I push the handle. Not too surprisingly, it’s locked, jammed, stuck, and won’t budge.

Before Scream can sneer at me again, I spit at the lock. Melting something is a changeling thing if ever I saw one-

*BOOOOOOM!*

I find myself lying on my back, coughing dust and smoke, my mane smoldering and burning. As the acrid air clears up, I see that instead of a quietly melted lock there’s a hole with strewn remains of wood all around and reinforcing metal ribbing bent out of shape.

“What the hole?” I croak, standing back up and quickly rushing through the obliterated doorway, “Scream? What did I do?”

”How should I know? I thought you were a changeling, not half-dragon.”

The storage room is filled with shelves stocked with bread, cheese, mushrooms, weird mosses, and other blobs I don’t recognize. Unfortunately, as far as drinks are concerned, apparently the smallest dwarven measure of beer is a barrel. The good thing is that there are some half-empty bags of flour into which I pack the recognizable food, and with Scream’s advice I load the barrel onto my back in a way that holds the sack hanging from my side. It’s quite the exercise, balance-wise, but as Eight would surely say - I need the practice. The small dwarf mare body is tough as nails, though, so it’s not too bad.

What goes through my head when I walk through the web of corridors, occasionally spotting a dwarf walking in the distance, is what happened with the explosion.

Could it be something resulting from the bottle of alcohol harmlessly stored in my not-really-dwarvish stomach, and my attempt at spitting corrosive goo? I gotta test that later somewhere safe, but now I just need to avoid any contact with anyone until I’m safely back in the vents.

Avoiding the sentry post I entered the dwarven tunnels through, I try to get out via parallel hallways, and on the fifth attempt I find an unguarded one. Afterwards, it doesn’t take long to return to the humongous bridge, and…

“I was hoping that if I didn’t think about the problem for long enough it would go away,” I look up into the darkness, then down at my cargo lying on the floor.

”Buzz those wings, buggy,” Scream flaps her own, already on her way to the ceiling.

The spider climbing won’t work with so much added weight, so I shapeshift back into myself. The good thing is that I’m not being chased this time, so I have a good opportunity to learn to use my wings properly over the course of many bumpy minutes. In the end, though, I’m pretty sure I can haul both the sack and the barrel all the way up, if only one by one.

With logistics sorted, I find myself in the ‘base’ not so long after. The minotaur hasn’t moved, and neither has the broodmare, which means my presence before didn’t trigger anything.

”Such a ghetto setup,” comments Scream, giving the place a once over again, ”And after we saw proper civilization. Well, it’s time for the big question. Do you use them? Alone inside enemy territory, without love or assistance, myself excluded.”

”So, without love or assistance,” I chuckle when Scream’s head snaps towards me to show I don’t really mean it, ”Uhh, no, I don’t think I should be using either of them. The love from the cocoon will last me for a while, especially since I didn’t waste any fighting, and… uhh, I’m not exactly, umm, experienced at making more changelings, well, from my own initiative, even if there’s a broodmother ready and willing right in front of me.”

”Wait, what?” she pauses, as if listening to something, ”Oh… heh… heheh...” she burst out laughing, ”Right, right, I completely forgot. Dragged him by his legs into a cellar, really?”

I raise my eyebrow. Am I missing something?

”Scream?”

”Okay, okay, okay, I’m okay,” her laughter turns into deep breathing, ”So why don’t you use her just for fun? You must be pretty pent up after all this time in the cocoon, and then around me.”

I look at the broodmare, then at Scream, then back at the dwarf, and back at Scream again.

”Seriously? Come on, even with shapeshifting it would be like tossing a carrot into a crater.”

Scream frowns, craning her neck under my barrel, then to the mare.

”Hmm, true. She does look as if she gave birth to a dragon few times over.”

“The venom keeps her muscles relaxed, that’s why she hasn’t returned to her normal shape,” I speak out normally to avoid draining love through hive link communication, no matter how minor it is. I should have been doing that as soon as we left the dwarf areas in the first place, “I need to know what happened, so I have to wake her up. I think it’ll be smarter than starting with the minotaur.”

Biting her would is unnecessary, so after focusing for a moment to create the antivenom, I let a green drop loose into her mouth. If the venom wasn’t this faded already, it would take much longer, but like this we have to wait only a few minutes before the mare’s leg twitches, and she croaks something through her dry throat.

“Damn it, how do I open this?” I examine the heavy barrel I brought.

”There should be a circular spot for the tap somewhere on the bottom.”

“Right,” on reflex, instead of shapeshifting, a thin spike of green fire erupts from my hoof only for a second and pierces the spot Scream pointed out. Brown liquid starts trickling out, and I push the barrel towards the mare, aiming it into her mouth.

I let her slowly lap it with her tongue until she turns her head away.

”Put it upside-down,” says Scream immediately. When I do so, the beer stops flowing.

“Ughh...” the mare tries in vain to push herself away from me, her atrophied legs barely moving.

I sit down by her head, and help the whimpering mare sit up. Her lack of effective resistance helps in that regard.

“Shhh, shhh,” I stroke her mane until she stops trembling.

“...etaller… dunkler… doppelbock...”
”You’re like the wine one,” Scream sits down.

I don’t need any time for recollection.

”Eight. Definitely.”

”Not a gentle mare, is she?”

”If something stands between her and her goal, definitely not. She prefers biting and punching to diplomacy.”

”Brute.”

”You DO sound like One.”

“Can you understand me?” I ask slowly. She nods, making me smile internally. These dwarves, even if Scream thought they were all gone, must have some contact with the surface, otherwise they’d know only their gravel-crunching language, “I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to know what happened.”

“...gosser...” she whispers, weakly dragging her foreleg onto her belly.
”It hurts.”

“That’s the venom fading. You were in a horrible shape.”

She shakes her head.

“...gouden… gosser...”
”Full. Hurts.”

“Oh hole...” I put my forehead to her flabby belly. Indeed, I can feel a tiny spark of life inside her, “I thought this bulge was natural, but there’s an egg still inside her. A still feeding one. She’s so weak she can’t push it out.”

”Amateur gynecologist, go!” the alicorn cheers.

”SCREAM!” I snarl at her, ”Her life’s in danger!”

To my surprise, she backs off and turns her head away.

“Okay, I’m really sorry, but this will hurt, I think. Just try to relax,” with a deep breath from both of us, the most manual birth of all time begins as I try to raise her up, and slowly push the egg downwards. Her looseness helps again, and with her hissing and gritting her teeth, we manage to get the egg out. It feels completely ready, so I try something I haven’t done in this new body yet - transfer love.

The spark of life blazes instantly. The egg shakes, followed by the widening eyes of the dwarf mare, and immediately a small mouth munches a hole in its side. Huh, this is the first time I’m seeing high-tier changeling eyes on a grub, and if there still was any remaining doubt about who the parent was, the dark green eyes of Chrysalis and Eight herself give the definite answer. The grub blinks, gurgles its leech-like mouth at me, and resumes devouring the egg at meteoric speed. The flame of life inside it burns so bright for an egg that had to lie dormant for so long, or maybe the larva is compensating because of that.

The egg is gone much faster than any other I’ve seen before, and the tiny creature worms its way towards my leg, and shimmies up on my hoof.

”You know, it’s utterly disgusting and adorable at the same time. The mother agrees, apparently.”

The sweaty dwarf tries to push herself away again as I show the lively larva to her.

“Shhh...” I carefully plop the newhatched onto her chest. She twitches, squinting at the larva crawling up to her neck, its miniature mouth pulsating…

...where it curls up, lets out the softest yawn, and closes its eyes. To my shock, the mare pushes it off with surprising gentleness, rolls over onto her side, and presses the grub against her chest with both her forelegs. The two soon begin snoring together.

”Maternal instinct trumps everything, they say,” comments Scream, ”Maybe I should give it a shot at some point.”

“This… I’ve never seen anything like this before,” I shake my head, “Broodmares back in the hive were just braindead breeding machines, their minds rewired for only one purpose by the infiltrators. I never knew they could… love us like this. When I was with my little hive, they loved us as an attraction, as friends, and they lusted for us… some of us. WE loved each other. This is completely new to me.”

”That makes two of us. What about the minotaur?”

“With those two asleep, maybe I can ask him something. I’d rather not dig through someone’s head without permission or guidance from an experienced changeling. Although, can’t you help, patron saint or whatever?”

”I physically can’t. I could use magic to visualize what’s happening like I did before you woke up, but I can’t advise you on how to use your body and mind’s natural instincts. I’m not a changeling, and I’ve never changed species into one. Now if you want to know how it feels when DRAGONS lay dozens of clutches spawned from the seed of an entire brood… her eyes glaze over for a moment, Aaah… good times.”

“As interesting as your sex life must be, I think I’d rather do the minotaur now.”

”I did like five tribes at once few centuries ago. Made for a grand peace treaty. Didn’t last long, but maybe I can have the whole frozen north take a turn next time. Alicorn rides for peace, we could call it.”

I ignore the ‘we’ part, and lick the minotaur’s green cocoon which melts immediately as I drain the love keeping it together. One more drip of saliva later, the minotaur starts waking up much faster than the mare.

I barely dodge the incoming wide punch by leaning backwards, and spit again.

”No!” Scream yells.

A green glob glues the minotaur’s arm to the floor, and few more goop projectiles later the minotaur is immobilized again, growling at me, his eyes staring daggers.

“Drinking contest?” I shoot out. We don’t have any cups, but we’ll sort that out later.

”That’s a DWARF custom. These guys snap necks, and use enslaved ponies as beasts of burden.”

”Do you speak minotaur?”

”Sure I do, but they usually understand ponish. Speaking of which, why didn’t he blow up like the door?”

”I thought about it, and I think that if I try to make my spit acidic, and it mixes with whatever paint stripper the dwarf was drinking, it goes kaboom. I just wanted glue now.”

”And you’re still not feeling sick or anything?”

”No, should I? I’m just storing it in me. I don’t think I have the right bits to get drunk.”

”Organs.”

”What, like Three used to play back in the castle?”

”How are you still alive?”

4: Back in charge, just like in the old days.

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Pacing back and forth between the sleeping mare and the immobilized minotaur, I’m trying to think about the next course of action.

“How did you get here?” I ask. The minotaur just growls at me. Yeah, this won’t get me anywhere, “Look, I will let you go. I can even help you get back to the surface, but I need to know how you got here in the first place.”

The minotaur glares. I sigh.

“Do you guys eat bread, cheese...” I shove my head into my big bag of food, “or whatever this moss thing is supposed to be? I mean, it was on the shelf too, but it could be mold,” I fling it away with a flick of my hoof.

He keeps glaring.

“Look, if you promise not to take a swing at me again, I’ll release your forearm so that I don’t have to feed you.”

“I will snap your neck and feed it to the frostwolves, bug,” growls the minotaur. Damn this stubborn creature. What would Eight do- wait no, what would One- definitely not, what would Three or Four do in this situation?

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” I choose to be nice and hope for the best. Stepping on his palm, I remove the binding on his wrist, and redo it around his bulging biceps, then I shove a wheel of cheese towards him as well as half a loaf of bread.

“Poison,” he turns his head away.

“If I wanted you dead or unconscious, I wouldn’t have woken you up,” I facehoof, “Is there something inside that head, or do you just have it so that it doesn’t rain into your neck? You know, like an umbrella with googly eyes on top.”

”From my experience with the minos, mostly the latter,” Scream adds her two bits to the one-sided conversation, ”I’m pretty sure that edible moss you brought with you is smarter than these guys.”

The minotaur shows at least some intelligence, and carefully bites into the cheese. After some consideration, he lets go, and devours the whole thing as well as the presented bread. Without question, I push the barrel closer to him, and tip it just enough to let a stream of beer into his muzzle. Some chugging later, he gives me a thumbs up.

”That means you stop,” explains Scream, I return the barrel into its original position, and the minotaur returns to his glaring. A favorite way to pass time, it seems.

“So, how about we start over?” I sit down, crossing my forelegs on my chest, “Who are you? How did you get here? And where exactly is here?”

“How about you start with the introduction, changeling?”

“I can literally blow you up right now, and I’ve had a really rough day full of alcohol, flamethrowers, and angry screaming beards with very sharp axes. You’re testing my patience to the limit,” I stomp my hoof, “So here’s my bio - I’m a changeling, as you know, I’m in some tunnel somewhere, and I HAVE BIG SHARP TEETH, SO START FUCKING TALKING!”

Gurgling behind me announces the larva waking up in response to my raised voice. I can feel its tiny developing mind as a new accessible hive link, and contrary to all expectations from the defenseless newhatched, I don’t sense fear, only wariness as it crawls to my foreleg. I scoop it out of reach of the minotaur, just in case he somehow broke his bonds, and put it on my back.

The obviously unimpressed chocolate brown minotaur only raises his eyebrow.

“My name is Steelback, and I was tasked by warlord Darkhorn to be an ambassador resolving deep core mining disputes between the dwarves and the united tribes settled in Rift.”

”Scream, got any background on this?”

”Some two years ago, a… friend of mine subjugated the majority of the minotaur tribes living in the northern wastes, and made them settle in a city they built inside a giant ravine cleaving a whole mountain in half which they named Rift. As far as I know, they have some business ties with the Crystal Empire and the rest of Equestria these days. The remaining wild tribes aren’t too happy with the Rift settlers, but that’s about all they can do, since the Rift minotaurs have heat and access to technology. This guy must be one of the more civilized ones then, and that means we must be somewhere deep under Rift, or at least near. So, congratulations, and welcome to the coldest place in Equestria, excluding Cadance’s thighs. Seriously, princess of LOVE and she’s banging only one guy. Such a waste. Hey, can we invade Crystal Empire and turn Cadance into a breeding whorse for all changelings, minotaurs, and crystal ponies? Few centuries of that and she’d learn to use her assets properly.”

That’s a lot of names that don’t mean anything to me. Not good.

”Yes, more royal enemies, that’s exactly what I need right now.”

”You’ve got me as a royal ally.”

Royal pain in the ass, more like.

”Do I have to explain the N part or the O part of the definitely freaking no?”

”Maybe later?”

”I’M NOT KIDNAPPING A PRINCESS AND TURNING HER INTO A BROODMARE!”

”Come on, imagine how cool a line of changelings from her would be.”

”Not arguing with that, but still no.”

Scream rubs her chin.

”We’ll see, we’ll see. Alright, back to the interrogation.”

Thanks to the internal nature of the conversation, to the unaware minotaur it passed in a blink of an eye.

“And how did you get here, Steelback, as in here into this specific air vent?”

Using his free-ish arm, he rubs his temple, and furrows his brows.

“I… I am not certain,” the minotaur looks genuinely confused, “I’ve been down here in Brauheim for over a month. Our miners struck some veins which led into… hazardous areas.”

Hey, finally stuff I know something about - digging.

“Like cave-ins, tunnel worms, vampire bats, giant blobs of chitin-eating slime which drip into your ear and melt your insides until your eyeballs drop from your leg holes?” I ask. Steelback gives me a confused glance followed by a slow nod.

“Yes, no, and what the actual hay? Our tunneling did indeed lead to the more common encounters, but… do you know what istrium is?”

“Never heard about it,” I shrug.

“It’s a type of crystal that forms only in great depths. Old legends say that it could be used to craft armors many times stronger and lighter than the best steel. We haven’t been able to find anyone with any knowledge about such metalwork for the longest time, but the crystal ponies use it to make some enchanted items.”

“Let me guess, the dwarves know something.”

“Their clergy supposedly keeps istrium forging a secret. Why? I don’t know. One of the reasons I was sent here was to negotiate with the dwarven king in that regard. It turned out much more difficult than anyone anticipated,” he stops himself. To be honest, I don’t intend to push him about this. I couldn’t care less about their politics, “I digress. The next reason I came here, as I said, was the threat we found in the depths. Our mining operations led through the istrium veins into deserted hallways looking to be of dwarven origin. Some… I don’t know how to even describe it… something possessed the miners. That’s what I came to enquire about. Once again, I hit the wall of silence regarding the dwarven clergy. Hoping to discover something later, I stayed here to work out details about the more standard mining operations. I doubt you want the boring details about that. One day, I was supposed to attend another meeting with the king and queen about some strange huge gem they discovered… next thing I remember is a changeling like you, only in shades of red wine… and then I woke up here with you standing above me. How long I’ve spent here, I don’t know.”

“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to be so open about it. Thanks, I guess.”

“I haven’t shared any secrets, and if you want those you’ll have to pry those from my lifeless body.”

“Nah, I think I’ll settle for the alive guy able to tell me what the hole is going on.”

”Now that I think of it, I probably should have asked this sooner. Scream, how long has it been since the changeling invasion of Canterlot?”

”I’m not too big on timekeeping, but four-five years, give or take?”

Oh dear.

I sit down to think, strength draining from me after hearing I’ve been asleep for so long, and the larva slides from my back, harmlessly bouncing off of the stone floor due to its chubby body. The minotaur seems deep in thought as well, likely trying to come up with a way to escape.

“Hmmm,” I hum to myself, coming to a conclusion about next course of action, “You, Steelback, if you promise not to rip my head off, I’ll let you go.”

“What?” he looks at me, clearly paranoid.

“We’re inside air vents not too far from a huge ass cavern with an enormous bridge. You won’t be able to get out of here unless you can fly or climb a wall of solid, smooth stone. I’m pointing that out just so you don’t try to do something stupid we’ll both regret. So, how about that? You don’t go crazy, and you won’t starve up here. You’re free to walk around a bit and see I’m not lying.”

I’m feeling somewhat safe in the knowledge that this guy seems rather smart, and that in the worst case scenario I can blow him up… probably. When he finally agrees, I lick his bonds one by one, quickly darting off after each dissolves successfully.

Steelback stretches, showing off how tall he actually is. He could dwarf princess Celestia easily. Strangely enough, even this air vent allows him to do it fully.

I notice the larva crawling up to him too late. It bumps against the hoof of his leg. As he looks down, I immediately growl:

“Don’t get any funny ideas.”

He looks at the sleeping dwarven mare, then at the larva as long and only a bit thicker than three of his fingers, and picks it up. I’m ready to blow his lower body off, but if he decides to crush it, I know I won’t be quick enough.

“Is this… creature one of your kind?”

“Yes, a larval stage,” I nod, “When I came here, the mare still had an egg inside her from… whoever brought the two of you here.”

Without another word, Steelback looks close at the grub who stares back intently, and I quickly sense a mind tugging at mine. Calling on an instinct I used to use the most in my previous life, I find myself looking partially from mine, and partially from the larva’s eyes.

This should be impossible. Larvae are just instinct-driven blobs of flesh, and a proper mind forms during their first metamorphosis. They might retain a memory or two, but that’s about it.

Yet, a part of me is sitting inside a developing mind that by all rights shouldn’t exist. Carefully, I withdraw myself as Steelback puts the larva on the floor where it starts shimmying back to me. I send some love the strange grub’s way. I mean seriously, not even Four who was born with enough love and was the smartest little cookie I knew developed like this.

”Ewww...?” Scream leans away when the surface of the larva’s white body turns into green film.

“Did I do something?” Steelback tilts his head.

“N-No… I think...” I poke the green blob. Where its mouth used to be, a stream of goo spurts out. In fact it begins seeping from all over the body. The only reason I’m not panicking is because, contrary to everything I know, the tiny mind is still connected to mine.

“What’s going on?” I hear a quiet whisper which belongs to the dwarf who slowly crawls over to the rapidly growing heap of goop.

“The first metamorphosis,” I explain, trying to keep my voice steady, “It should form a cocoon soon.”

As if in response, the top of the puked and secreted pile now as tall as the broodmare smoothens out, forming an egg-like cocoon inside.

“This might… take… a… while...” my jaw drops when a changeling silhouette forms before my eyes, and within several minutes its tiny head snaps forward, jaws breaking through the surface and immediately chomping the cocoon even faster than in its larval stage.

It’s a female changeling, and from her shape I’m pretty certain she skipped her drone stage. Whether due to some strangeness regarding… everything about her development, honestly, or because Eight set the egg up to immediately become an infiltrator I don’t know. Remains of green slime gets absorbed into her chitin, and she tilts her head, short red mane falling on one side as she looks at me.

“King,” the slow, flat statement is completely emotionless, as if she was simply categorizing the first things she’s seeing.

HOLY BALLS BACK OFF A MOMENT!

I understood what the dwarf said a moment ago. The fresh mind connected to mine is not just learning what little she can from the information stored in my hive mind, she’s also allowing me to decipher the language I until now needed Scream for. Hmmm, can I speak it? Nope, I can’t, likely because the new crazy infiltrator is barely speaking herself.

Alright, time for my bossly- kingly duty. I’ve got just the right name for a changeling of her abnormal qualities.

“You, little critter,” I lean to the changeling less than half my size who looks up, silent question in her eyes, “Are you okay with the name Two?”

“To-” she frowns, “Too-” her frown turns into a ferocious scowl, and I feel a spark of anger from her, not aimed at me but at herself, “Two!” the emotion disappears, replaced by Two’s confident smile.

“Good ling,” I pat her head, making her beam before she catches herself, and pushes her chest forward in an attempt to look serious.

“Hungry,” to my utter horror, she walks over to Steelback without any fear, and pokes his thigh with her nose. Frowning again, she pulls herself on her hind legs, propping her forelegs against the sculpted thigh, and…

...shoves her muzzle into the minotaurs uncovered crotch. Headbutting it repeatedly. With care, though, with care. Can’t damage the lust dispenser, that wouldn’t be good.

“Feed,” she adds by the way of explanation.

Yep, she’s Eight’s alright.

”WAY TO GO, GIRL!” cheers Scream immediately.

She certainly did inherit Eight’s brand of tactful and careful approach. I’m sure that if she could physically push Steelback on the floor she’d already be jumping him.

With only a quick glance my way, Steelback grabs Two under her forelegs, and pulls her to eye-height.

“Wrong amount of legs here, changeling,” he frowns at now clearly puzzled Two, then puts her back on the floor.

”Enough cock?” she gives it one more shot.

“Shoo!” Steelback shakes his finger at her. She has no clue what the gesture means, simply following the finger with her eyes. She gets the idea when nothing further happens, though.

My heart almost stops when she walks over to an empty spot near me…

...and looks straight up at Scream, poking her hoof through her projection.

“Weird,” without giving it more thought, she now visits the sitting dwarf mare, softly poking her, “Sex?”

Scream rubs her chin.

”That isn’t normal, is it?” she asks.

”Heh, straight to the point, isn’t she?” I chuckle, ”And no, she’s definitely not normal.”

“N-No,” the broodmare’s voice shakes, “I-I just gave birth to you...”

Two blinks.

“So? Tired? You,” she smacks the side of her head with her hoof, “Are you tired?” she smiles again, “Much better.”

The pace of her adaptation and growth is unnatural, yet I don’t sense anything wrong with her changeling mind when I look out of her eyes. She immediately knows I’m inside her, and doesn’t resist when I test out moving her foreleg up and down.

”Can I eat her?” Two’s voice comes through our mind link.

“Yes, I am, but I’m your mother...” says the mare. She freezes, when Two answers:

“No.”

”Two, let me handle this.”

”Did I do it wrong?”

”Just watch. Ponies think about foals differently, even strange underground ponies like her, I believe.”

”Alright,” she sits down, throwing a quizzical glance my way.

“A-hem!” I clear my throat, making everyone look at me, unaware of our quick internal exchange, “Changelings don’t consider broodmares their mothers. Two’s mother is the changeling who laid her egg into you. To her, you are just a vessel, I’m sorry.”

To my surprise, the mare looks at the floor, her eyes misting over. To my lightning bolt tier shock, Two’s hoof gently brushes the mare’s cheek.

“Thank you for carrying me,” she says, tightly closing her eyes for a breath, “Miss Crumble.”

The mare’s jaw drops, and so does everyone else’s. Without a word, she hugs Two, and I see something looking like a burning flame inside her, sparks of which seep into Two who savors her first taste of love. Confused love, but free from the taint of venom.

”Two?”

”Effective lie. Harms no one, as I felt you wanted, and helps both us and her,” she replies, ”I didn’t see a better course of action.”

”What a horrifying little manipulator,” Scream’s devious smile portrays pure joy, ”I like her, but if I were you I’d never use the phrase ‘over my dead body’ in front of her. She might take it literally.”

Sending some love Two’s way, I sense that her capacity is far greater than a newborn changeling’s, and a wave of weakness finally hits me.

”Oof! This… will have to last, Two… at least until we can find a way to refill.”

Two nods, letting go of Crumble.

“We need food,” she proclaims, “Let’s go.”

“Can you fly?” I transmit to her mind the map of the underground I’ve managed to uncover. A moment later, her wings are buzzing as she hovers short distance above the floor, “Alright. Now, Steelback, I’ll carry you and Crumble out one by one. You first.”

”You’ll leave her alone and conscious up here?” asks Scream.

”Steelback doesn’t seem like a bad guy, definitely not a bloodthirsty savage you said minotaurs were. However, if he tries to rip my legs off on the way, it’ll be on his conscience that Crumble will stay here and starve to death. Hole, I hate thinking like that.”

”Cold,” comments Scream.

”Effective mental pressure,” adds Two.

”I DON’T want to do it, and it’s wrong. If I had a safer option then I’d take it. Anyway, let’s get this over with, and hope the love I still have lasts.”

”I can help,” Two perks up.

”No, with your size and strength, you’d have to burn more love than I will over both trips,” I insist, ”but you can keep Crumble company until I get back.”

Two looks as if she wants to say something, but my hopefully intense glare makes her sit down by the slowly recovering dwarf now chomping down some bread. When I take a peek at myself through her eyes, I feel I look more as if I ate some really nasty love.

Thankfully, I was right in Steelback being smart, and while he’s heavier than my previous load of food and drink, the fact that he can hold me on his own makes all the difference. It doesn’t change the fact that when I land on the bridge for the second time, now with Crumble, I’m gasping for breath with my head spinning.

I stumble, Steelback darts forward to catch me-

-and I still fall on the floor.

Steelback’s rescue attempt was stopped by growling Two baring her teeth at him.

“I’m not going to harm someone who just saved me,” says Steelback slowly, staring down at Two, “Not even a changeling, so calm down, little one.”

“I’ll be… right… back up...” I raise one foreleg, “Just gimme… a second… or an hour… week tops...”

“I can carry you,” offers Steelback, much to Two’s obvious annoyance.

”What’s wrong, Two? He doesn’t feel like a bad guy.”

”He’s food, and he attacked you before. He...” she feels apprehensive, as if just her next words would harm her or me, ”He is too strong for me to handle right now, King. I’m sorry, I will work to remedy that as soon as I can if you give me a chance.”

How does she know? Was she connected to me when she was asleep as a larva? Nevermind all that, she looks downright adorable with the puffed out chest and an embarrassed blush tainting her chitin. She was born not even an hour ago, and she thinks it’s her job to protect me, not the other way around.

”The best way to ensure our safety is to find allies wherever we can and have them cooperate willingly, Two. Infiltrators can’t just go around eating ponies. Well, they can, but it doesn’t end well.”

She nods. I finally catch my breath, and get back on all fours.

“Crumble, can you walk? I mean, you must have been through a l-” my jaw drops as I notice the mare casually doing push-ups, her now only slightly sagging belly touching the floor with each.

“Give me few hours and a good bath, and I’ll be mining diamonds down in the shafts better than any lager-guzzling shortbeard,” she yawns, “Or maybe some real sleep, that’ll help too.”

“Then I guess it’s time we part ways,” I shrug, “Do you need a guide to the barricade?”

“What barricade?” ask both Steelback and Crumble, exchanging glances.

“There are a bunch of collapsed hallways, and most of the passable ones are guarded by a duo of dwarves each,” I explain, “I thought those were a border of the dwarf tunnels.”

Crumble shakes her head.

“No, there are a ton of nasty surprises underground, but there hasn’t been any attack on Brauheim that would warrant sentry posts in my lifetime. How long was I… up there?”

All I can do is shrug.

“I haven’t met anyone other than dwarves when I went in to get food for you two.”

“Then there’s no reason to stand around and chat,” says Steelback firmly, “We have to go back and see what’s going on. I don’t want to hear that the threat we discovered in our mines attacked your city.”

”Ehm, King?” I hear Two’s quiet voice, ”Can I suggest something?”

”What is it?”

”How about you hide up in the vents and have some rest while I follow these two, and infiltrate the dwarf city?”

I freely admit I’m tired from the heavy lifting, and if I don’t have to burn love to recover faster it’ll be a good bonus. On the other hole, do I want to put Two in danger?

”Two, are you sure you can handle that? It’ll be dangerous. Changelings aren’t generally accepted by ponies, dwarves or not.”

”I… think Steelback’s aggressive reaction to you happened only because he thought the changeling who captured him returned. Crumble won’t rat me out. I feel that even after your explanation she considers me her foal. Of course, I only serve you, King.”

I CAN shapeshift now. I CAN act on my own.

I can also screw up on my own in the middle of enemy territory, and become a liability to be rescued. My experience lies not in shapeshifting, not in lying somepony eye to eye, all in all not in infiltrating.

Two was made to infiltrate. I was made to… be the pair of eyes behind someone else’s, to control the situation using… pawns. Two’s motivation might be different from what she’s saying, but she’s right. It’s safer for both of us if I’m safe, and also keeping an eye on her.

”Alright, Two. I’ll be watching from inside you. My order, however, is that if you get into real danger, just flee as fast as you can back here. The dwarves don’t seem able to get into the vents at all.”

”Yessss!” she punches the air with a grin, much to the curious stares of Crumble and Steelback, “I mean, I will not fail you, King,” she scrunches her nose in an attempt to look serious.

“Oh, that looks absolutely adorable!” Crumble gives Two a chitin-crushing hug, making the infiltrator flail her legs in an attempt to get her off. Unable to free herself without resorting to violence, Two gives me a pout, and relaxes in Crumble’s embrace.

“Ehm,” I clear my throat, “I need some rest, but Two will accompany you to the guard post,” sighing, I add, “Please, don’t make me regret letting you go.”

“You are not the changeling I bear a grudge against for causing such a hole in my life, I’m sure of that by now,” Steelback presents his arm, which after some recollection I shake, “But I would be a pretty bad diplomat if I didn’t come to the conclusion that you know something about said changeling. However, I have more pressing matters to deal with.”

Crumble lets Two go. The infiltrator walks around her in a circle before…

...a ‘whoosh’ of green fire happens, and Two transforms into a passable dwarf mare.

“AWW! SO THIS IS HOW MY DAUGHTER WOULD LOOK,” Crumble practically bounces on the spot, “I’ll call you Hammer, and I’ll have you wear my grandma’s chainmail, you have the figure for it. How about that?”

“I’m Two,” says Two flatly.

“I think Hammer is a lovely dwarf name,” a tone of mischief I wasn’t expecting comes from Steelback, “Fitting for someone of your… directness.”

Here it is, my first new changeling’s first angry eye twitch. Awww, the little moments in each parent’s life.

“Can’t you think of a name with… with more subtlety?” pouts Two.

Ignoring Crumble doubtlessly thinking about another name for her, unimportant details aside, daughter, I only give them a wave as I finally take off back into the vent system. As soon as I find a good horizontal shaft, I lie down, and close my eyes.

The next thing I hear are three sets of hoofsteps as disguised Two leads Steelback and Crumble through the complex.

”Be careful, Two.”

”I won’t fail you, King,” she replies, ”And once we get rid of Crumble and Steelback, the four of us can see this… Brauheim.”

In a way…

...it feels good to be back.

”Wait, FOUR of us?”

5: My little, angry, armored, drunk, bearded pony. My little, angry, armored, drunk, bearded pony. Aaah aaah aaah aaaaah!

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”Two… what did you mean by ‘four of us’?”

Her confusion rings through the hive link.

”You, boss, me, the golden pony-”

”Alicorn,” I correct her on reflex.

”-and the drone.”

”What drone, Two?”

This can’t be. It was just a dream.

”The one talking to Scream a lot.”

”Scream?”

The alicorn whistles innocently.

”No idea what the little snitch is talking about.”

”The drone says to ‘tell the boss I said hi and that miss Scream is playing a prank on you’,” Two, walking quietly by Steelback’s side, shoots Scream a suspicious glare, ”Can’t you hear him?”

”No, I can’t,” I say, ”And I think I know who’s behind it. Scream?”

”Hmph!” she purses her luscious lips, ”On the other hoof, why not? Yes, the drone WHO DOESN’T SHUT UP FOR A SECOND is hiding inside your hive mind. Yes, I am preventing you from hearing him, which could be considered a good deed, honestly. I’d kill for some peace and quiet by now. If he asks me one more time whether I was born like this or whether it was Marebelline, I might have to kill him. Creatively. NO, not a knife into your LEFT eye this time, you irritating ball of chitin. NO, EAR NEITHER!”

”If I ask why, am I going to survive the answer with my sanity intact, or will I have to start planning another purge of the hive mind?”

”Now now, let’s not go crazy here. Consider this sort of a motivation - you do what I want you to do, and you’ll get your drone buddy back. How about that? And if you don’t...”

”Don’t threaten my boss, alicorn!” growls Two.

”Shush, adults are talking,” Scream waves her off, her amused grin only growing in response to Two’s furious scowl.

Unfortunately, Scream’s got me by the egg sack, and she knows it. I don’t know what Three told her, but I doubt I can bluff my way out of this.

”And what do you want, Scream? And don’t say f-”

”I want my fun!” her grin turns into a full blown smile that would make a statue crack its knuckles and get ready to punch, ”And seeing you squirm with uncertainty at what I’ll ultimately want from you is a good start. Buuuut… let’s get back to basics - as I said before, find a good source of magic, and then we’ll see about the next step.”

”In the meantime, how about you let Three talk to us?”

”Heh, and how about no?” I feel panic come through Two's link, and I know Scream must have done something, ”And now that the little smartass showed she could hear Three, I’ll have to improve my concealment a little,” she pauses, ”STOP ASKING IF I’M THE NEW BAD GUY! Why thank you! I AM too pretty to be evil, aren’t I? No, NO! If you start singing I SWEAR I’ll kill you this time for real! Though I do admit it’s catchy,” Scream hums to herself, “Skin shiny and black, got holes in my leg… we do not fear what lies beneath, we can never dig too deep… dum de dum de dum de dum...”

With Scream’s continued humming of a faintly familiar tune, I sense Two’s disappointment.

”I’m sorry, boss,” she whispers, ”As an infiltrator, I shouldn’t have revealed what I know to a potentially hostile force.”

”Calm down, Two. You’re doing way better than anyone could expect from you with your age and lack of experience. Like… miraculously WAY better.”

”Not enough, boss,” a determined, and unbelievably cute, scrunch graces her nose, ”But I’ll grow smarter. I’ll find you the source of magic, and if I have to I will kick that alicorn out of our hive mind by myself!”

You know… I believe her.

”Let’s take things slow, Two. I don’t think Scream is an enemy, despite her being as irritating as goonorrhea. First, we need to make sure we can stay alive, and then we’ll see what we can do. I’d prefer making friends to dominating enemies by force. Changelings tried that, and here we are still paying for it.”

”Alright. I will adjust my plan accordingly.”

Great, more secret plans, now even from my changeling. Welp, I guess it’s up to me to keep an eye out on her when things inevitably go wrong.

With Scream seemingly lost in thought, Two looks at Crumble who is watching the identical hallways with furrowed brows.

“How is life in this ‘Brauheim’ city?” asks the disguised changeling.

”Hmm?” Crumble looks at ‘Hammer’, and smiles, ”It’s home. I am- I was a miner, my specialty is iron. Traditional, unimaginative, a little monotonous, but I liked it. It was good, honest work - start off my morning with a hearty breakfast, then continue working on the rich seams for most of the day with friends, afterwards go home to enjoy some good old baking, and read a bit before bed. I can’t wait to see everypony’s faces again,” her eyes mist over a little.

“And who’s in charge? You know, in case my boss wants to, let’s say, negotiate some kind of cooperation between changelings and dwarves.”

“We have a king and a queen, so starting with them would be a good idea. I’ve never seen a changeling before… you know what happened, but king and queen have access to royal library and do diplomacy stuff. And if even they don’t know about you, then the clergy might, but...” she ends up pouting, “I’d avoid them if I were you. The dark priests aren’t exactly friendly and open to new ideas. They barely want to communicate with crystal ponies, much less minotaurs. It took a lot of pressure from everyone to force them to allow us at least some contact with the outside.”

“So those dark priests are your leaders then?”

“They… guard old traditions and knowledge, and let us use ancient blueprints for devices and technology we aren’t allowed to trade with others - pumps, motors, thermal generators, lifts. Normal matters are dealt with by the king and queen. Well, mostly the king,” Crumble frowns, “Anyway, the clergy have final say in any big social change. They make sure we dwarves remain dwarves, if that makes sense. Kinda makes it hard to move past thousands of years old traditions and some rituals,” she adds, grumbling, “Like the chainmail thing.”

“What chainmail thing?” Two raises an eyebrow. Crumble shakes her head.

“Oh nothing, it’s just that mares aren’t allowed to wear full plate armors, or mine under magma streams while the stallions are. I say, if a mare can pass the deep core miner certification, she can wear the proper armor, and risk getting melted like any stallion!” Crumble stomps the floor, “A lot of my mare friends agree with me, some stallions too… even if they want to wear chainmail themselves. And the drinking! Seriously, everything from personal vendettas to questions of royal succession can be sorted out by drinking. Where is the sense in that?! How does being an insatiable beer sponge qualify you for leadership?”

“Less bloody than fighting, I assume. And how does the city look?” Two waves her foreleg around, “These tunnels are pretty empty.”

“This IS the city!” Crumble shakes her head, “There’s the castle in the city center, which is carved into one side of a chasm leading deep into the volcanic streams, but the surrounding city is a square grid separated into districts,” she stops for a moment, pointing at symbols above one door, “Vault 126-57 D, which means we’re in the storage district. There’s the trade district, housing district, farming district, forge district, and few more specialized ones. Underneath each district are service tunnels for maintenance of the machinery connected to the main floor, and deeper down there are the mining tunnels. So let’s say you mine a lot of iron, go to your forge in the forge district, smelt it and craft something, then you can sell it in the trade district. ”

”Huh? All the ponies we’ve met usually wanted to avoid all that walking, and had a combined flower shop and, let’s say, a greenhouse.”

”Can’t someone just build a forge in their shop?” Two shortens my question.

Crumble tilts her head sideways.

“That wouldn’t work. The piping is incompatible and would make mess with the maintenance shifts. The districts are separated because you need different supporting machinery for blacksmithing which emits a lot of heat that can’t be used in the farming district requiring very specific conditions. One more example - if you built large forge pumps under housing district, you’d go crazy in few days from the constant humming and thumping in the background. It’s smart the way it is, one of the few old ways I can agree with.”

“What happened there?” asks Steelback out of nowhere, looking into the left tunnel blocked by rubble halfway through.

“I don’t know, we wouldn’t have left a hall in such a shape for long,” says Crumble with a touch of panic, rushing towards the cave-in, “This didn’t collapse naturally,” she knocks her hoof against the wall, “No tunnel worm work either. Someone demolished this tunnel using explosives. Guard posts and blocked tunnels. We need to find out what’s going on.”

“We’re not far anymore,” says Two, “Let’s go.”

Several corridors later, the now singular dwarf sentry peeks out from behind his stone barricade when Crumble and Steelback clear the corner while Two stays behind, listening in.

“Who goes there?” asks the guard.

“Ambassador Steelback from Rift.”

“Crumble from 27-5 K, iron miner and baker extraordinaire.”

“Stay where you are!”

“What day is it?” asks Steelback, “Someone knocked me out, and when I woke up this mare was there with me. It took us a while to find our way around,” he sniffs the air, “Wait, why is that dwarf lying unconscious in a pile of vomit?”

“Lost an honorable duel while the other one didn’t even twitch. You should have seen it, it was amazing,” explains the dwarf. With the hoofsteps departing, Two peeks from behind a corner, and sees the sentry leading both the dwarf and the minotaur away. When they move out of sight, Two rushes to the barricade, jumps over the stone slab, and quickly examines the still wasted dwarf.

”Your job, boss?”

”Yep. They’ve got this dueling via drinking contest, and it seems us changelings are immune to the horrible concoction they drink if we don’t shapeshift our internal pianos. Plus, it makes our acidic spit kinda explosive.”

”Oh really...” she smirks, swiping the dwarf’s entire backpack, ”Some coins, cups, a bottle, food,” she tosses the rations away, spare axe… another spare axe… anot- ”Are you kidding me?”

More weapons and a whole iron ingot with “Spot” inscribed in one corner later, Two shapeshifts further, making her body a little bigger, and turning her coat lighter shade of brown, as well as switching the colors of her mane and tail into fiery orange.

”In case Steelback and Crumble blab to someone,” she explains, striding through the empty halls.

Giving a passing glance to the pantry door I ‘unlocked’ rather permanently, doorway now covered in yellow and black, sticky tape, she walks to the next one which should be one of the many armories, and takes a swig from the remains of the dwarf’s bottle. Much carefully than I did, she spits into the keyhole, and after a quiet ‘pop!’ she pushes the door open with no resistance, darting inside.

Darkness of the room means nothing to her eyes as she slips into a set of plate armor complete with the covering helmet.

”Oh holes...” she stumbles, and I feel her body straining against the weight, ”Crumble must be ten times stronger than she looks.”

”There are lighter armors in here,” I comment.

”Trust me, I’m an infiltrator.”

”You’ll be a pancake if you keep this one.”

”Would make getting under doors easier, boss. I need some love, that’s all, and that dwarf guard gave me just the right idea how to get it.”

I wish others would start telling me things. Why aren’t they telling me things? Am I that bad of a boss? Everyone has been doing this since the beginning. Only Three always told me things. Not the things I wanted to know, just all the things really.

“What are the damn dwarves made of?” curses Two, making minor muscular adjustments to her body over and over in order to make wearing what’s basically a block of steel easier.

In the end, she waddles out of the armory, gradually gaining steadiness in her steps over several hallways.

”Scream, can you help me translate the numbers?” asks Two out of nowhere, nodding towards the symbols on the wall of a tunnels crossing this one. The alicorn looks at the dwarven numbers a little bit above her head height.

”Ninety-three and fifty.”

”Alright, so this squiggle means- OW!” a painful spike of migraine makes Two stop and gasp for breath, ”Too much… my head hurts… my head… can’t think...”

”Two, sit down!” when she doesn’t obey, I take control, and make her sit on the floor, armored back pressed against the wall. This was bound to happen at some point, ”Just listen, Two. Calm down and listen. Close your eyes, breathe,” I say in the most calming voice I can, ”I’ll tell you a story about a little changeling who tried to bite off more than she could chew. Despite being mere hours old, this little changeling mastered shapeshifting, spot transformation, absorbed a language from her broodmother, and mouthed off to an alicorn-”

“I. AM. FINE!” Two’s scream echoes through the empty tunnels, before she pushes herself up despite the pounding headache spilling over to me.

-Sit down.-

Two’s legs fold underneath her instantly.

”And don’t make me use this again, because I’m not sure myself how I did it.”

”I can go on, boss. I swear I can-”

”I believe you, but there’s no reason to rush, no reason to burn love you’re going to need when you’re not in direct danger. Take a break, breathe, calm down, and then I’ll let you continue.”

”Patience isn’t her strong suit, is it?” snickers Scream.

”Like mother like daughter, I’d say.”

”I’ll show that TRAITOR what should have happened to her!” Two’s mental growl makes me freeze.

”Two? Where did you hear that?”

She thinks for a moment.

”I… I don’t know. It’s just… a feeling. From her… from you… from both of you… I don’t know. A part of me… regret...” she takes a deep breath, ”I’m sorry.”

”Well well well, such a powerful emotion to have branded the little one so strongly,” Scream rubs her chin, ”Either this is really what you think about your Eight deep down-”

No, I remember I used to think that as she was carrying my cocoon out of Las Pegasus, but not anymore. I was angry that she left others to die just to save me. I’m not anymore. I love her. The thing is… she might not love herself for that.

”-or it’s what SHE thinks, or thought when she laid Two’s egg,” I finish Scream’s thought. Oh, great hole in the sky, I hope Eight didn’t do something really reckless.

The infiltrator stands up again, forcing herself to breathe regularly.

“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this,” she whispers over and over.

”Are you sure, Two? And no nonsense, no anger. You’re smart, you’re analytical, but you’re young. Analyze properly, then answer. Can you do this infiltration mission?”

She stops, and simply breathes until she calms down completely. Even the headache fades a little.

”Yes, I can.”

”Still a little too prideful,” comments Scream, ”On the other hoof, a go getter if ever I saw one. Somepony will have to beat that out of her, but if she survives the failure, she’ll grow up nicely.” on Two’s exploratory look her way she adds, ”Changelings usually don’t get a second chance.”

Collected again, Two resumes walking through the halls of Brauheim.

As it turns out, the city isn’t too different from Canterlot or Las Pegasus once I get over the initial underground thing. It’s not a warzone as I expected from Crumble’s words, despite bearing the most heavily armored population of probably the whole world. The rows of doors from the warehouse district eventually give way to larger hallways and wide open plazas where houses and shops have windows as well, complex carvings decorate the walls of each shop, and groups of dwarves yell at each other while furiously shaking their axes and hammers which on closer look proves to be good old haggling for prices. The number of ponies around is somewhat smaller than I’d expect from a complex which has to be larger than Las Pegasus, but my experience with pony cities is limited at best.

However, as Two reaches a certain hallway, the barricades and collapsed tunnels reappear, this time following a line as if a section of the city had been blocked off earlier. Asking what’s going on would certainly lead to questions we can’t afford, so we’ll have to approach things different way.

”I can take one of the guards by surprise, bite the other one, hide them somewhere, and interrogate both,” says Two while passing by yet another sentry post.

”Yes, I have wild imagination too,” Two looks about to pounce at the alicorn at Scream’s completely dismissive answer, ”but what are you REALLY going to do?”

”Gotta agree with the clop horse here. These guys are armed to the teeth, their very, very armored teeth. I doubt tempered steel is a good diet for developing young changelings. Thankfully, I’ve got an idea. Every city needs a tavern where ponies go to unwind after work, and more importantly - bitch about what’s bothering them.”

Finding one proves far easier than it would seem on the first glance, all one needs are ears, and Two’s got, well, still only two of those but it’s a quality pair. The previously visited plaza hosts an expansive one-story building with bright yellow light coming from the windows accompanied by a cacophony of talking, yelling, stuff being smashed with other stuff, which Two, with my help, identifies as our target. She gathers courage, and enters.

I feel her worries dissipate when no one gives her a second glance, and that even here most of the stallions are still wearing platemails while the mares are fitted with chain mails sometimes longer or shorter depending on what I assume to be dwarven fashion. For stallions, that seems to consist of less or more spikes all over their armor.

Anyway, the tavern is very similar to those I saw in Canterlot, in Las Pegasus, heck, even in a tiny village like Wet Soil, only massively scaled up. Long, wooden tables are laid whenever there’s free space, each hosting lines of chairs. By the distant, and I mean actually distant for an interior space, wall there’s a raised dais where a loud dwarf is yelling something barely coherent over all the drowning noise of everyone else.

The service is surprisingly quick for such a large establishment, though, and as soon as Two sits down by a corner V-shaped table, a mare who has to be a waitress, judging solely by her steel-plated leather skirt, trots over, presenting a paper covered in dwarven scribbles. Thankfully, Scream helps Two read the ‘menu’, and explains that most of the names on it are kinds of alcohol, some apparently really rare ones. Not to raise suspicion, Two orders the first beer from the long list, and thanks the waitress.

Then she takes her helmet off, and several tables nearby go quiet.

“Hey, hey, HEY!” a stallion stands up, stomping his hooves on the table, “You can’t wear that! Go back to your queen if you want to wear that. This part of the city is for real dwarves only!”

”Oh crap, I completely forgot what Crumble said.”

”Don’t worry, I didn’t,” a devious smile graces Hammer’s muzzle, ”All part of the plan, boss.”

”Care to share before you have to flee from the city?”

”It won’t come to that.”

I wish I shared her optimism. However, frowns from some mares I can see show they don’t exactly agree with the angry stallion.

“Einbecker mai-ur-bock, aecht shlenkerla rauchbier marzen,” grins Two, carefully voicing every word. Every BAD word from what I remember.

”Your mother guzzles water in public, you chainmail thong wearing shortbeard,” translates Scream automatically before my mind catches on.

The dwarf ROARS.

A metal cup tossed by Two bounces off of his muzzle.

“Dos equis, bitch,” she adds.

”WHAT ARE YOU DOING, TWO?!”

”Fulfilling your orders, boss. To. The. Letter.”

With the situation so far past the point of no return you couldn’t see it from the top of Canterlot mountain, all I can do is watch the ongoing drinking contest.

As expected, the dwarf eventually keels over while Two slams the cup victoriously on the table.

“ANYONE ELSE, OR ARE YOU SISSIES AFRAID OF A REAL MARE?!”

Of course that an another more traditional dwarf, spurred by snickering of several surrounding mares, tosses his cup into the ring, and the second round begins.

I think I understand Two’s plan now. She wants to build a reputation, and then gain some information when she proves to be the drinking champion of the year, if dwarves have something of that sort.

Seems safe enough then, unless she gets to the point where alcohol isn’t enough to settle all disputes.

With the second unconscious dwarf being unceremoniously shoved under the table, and Two pretending to wobble a little to avoid suspicion, a third challenger approaches, making me correct my statement.

IF there is a situation where hard liquor isn’t enough in dwarven culture.

I feel my real self yawn.

”Alright, Two. I doubt I need to see the rest. It’s been a long day, and think I’ll get some sleep. If you get into trouble, just call and I’ll be right there.”

”Of course, boss,” Two replies with suspicious meekness, progressively butchering another dwarf in the traditional duel, and winning another fight for dwarf mare rights.

With a yawn, I withdraw myself from her, and close my eyes.

***

A short stab of panic wakes me up. Why can’t it ever be anything nice? I want to be woken up by a hug sometimes.

Immediately looking out of Two’s eyes, I see that she’s still in the tavern, but there’s a big, burly dwarf burping and babbling something at her with his flamethrower aimed her way. Two’s belly feels so full it’s sloshing with each step over dozens of empty bottles strewn on the floor. Roaring, stomping, and occasional boo-ing of far more dwarves than I recall being there before on all sides is deafening.

”What the hole is going on, Scream?”

”Morning, sunshine!” answers the alicorn with an eager expression on her face, ”You know how they always say that when you’re in prison you have to punch the biggest guy in the face to prove dominance?”

”No, I don’t, and that sounds like a good way to get stabbed.”

”Well, that guy apparently is the dwarven king, and damn, he can drink.”

“Beaten by a mare,” taunts Two with slight slurring in her voice, “Guess all that you stallions can do properly is whine whine wh-”

The king’s twists his hoof, lighting a tiny pilot flame in front of the nozzle fixed to his foreleg.

“Gn- gnna- kill yuu, an yer whor ovva queen!” the dwarf belches with the rumble of a crumbling mountain.

The blinding fireball as the toxic cloud of pure alcoholic vapors from his mouth reaches the prepared flamethrower nozzle turns everything white before charring the floor, ceiling, and the nearest tables.

Standing under the raised dais, Two, eyebrows and mane singed, watches coldly as the screaming king of dwarves roasts inside his plate armor, blue fire spreading to everyone trying to help.

From the nearest table, Two grabs a chair, pulls it onto the dais, and sits down on it, watching the few dwarves pull their extremely dead king away.

The crowd of dwarves starts cheering, slamming their tankards of beer against the table over and over, chanting:

“RADEGAST!”
“RADEGAST!”
“RADEGAST!”

”The means - ‘The Invincible’,” mutters Scream in disbelief as the nearest dwarves finally having extinguished the fire start kneeling before the sadistically grinning changeling.

”Two, what the hole is the meaning of this?!”

”I did exactly what you said, boss.”

”IN WHAT WAY EXACTLY?”

”Crumble said that the traditional duel can sort out royal succession. All I had to do was to get to the king, and drink him to death. This way mares love me because the old guy was a traditionalist denying them rights, and stallions respect me because I won fair and square. Plus, the old guy tried to kill me when he lost the duel, making everyone see he was a cheater. You wanted friends, you wanted information, and you wanted love we can feed on.”

Two’s smile grows even wider when she raises her own tankard, and takes a sip of ale as the adoration of the crowd fills her with so much energy that is seeps over to myself.

”Boss, I present all those things to you - your nation.”

”I AM SO SCARED AND PROUD OF YOU AT THE SAME TIME!” applauds Scream.

THIS ESCALATED FAR TOO QUICKLY!

”How’s that for a first mission, huh?” asks Two, smug to her horseshoes.

6: Promises, promises, promises...

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“-meaning that the new shipment from shaft 69 will be mostly for sale rather than our own use-”

I’m boooooored!

So, day one of MY rulership. Yes, my rulership, not Two’s. She had some valid points for me being in charge, but I think she just wants to be able to go away and do stuff whenever she decides to rather than have to sit here on the heavy stone chair resting on the dais, and listening to the neverending line of complaining, bearded, metal buckets while a large crowd is already sitting around, drinking their breakfast.

To be honest, all this needs are two overpowered dwarves vying for my affection and I’ll feel completely at home. Can I rename dwarves? I'll find a smart mare and call her One, and another mare who can chew rocks into gravel whom I'll name Eight.

The tavern where Two drank the previous dwarven king to death by flamethrower apparently serves as a temporary town hall. On the other hole, I’m not going to question the sanity of ponies who have lived underground their entire life and are armed to their lager-stained teeth.

And as such, due to dwarven traditions, I’m now disguised as the brown, fire-maned dwarf Two used to infiltrate Brauheim, dealing with what seems to be the daily flow of the city while Two in her disguise as Hammer, a dark chocolate, blond dwarven mare based on Crumble is sitting right under the dais, observing the proceedings, and grinning at my barely contained yawning.

Oh, and I’m not the king of dwarves, obviously since I'm using Two's old disguise, I’m their queen, because fate is apparently tired of kicking me in the nuts, and decided on a cunt punt. The supposedly ancient and surprisingly light traditional helmet I’m wearing fits either way.

“-the barricade sentries haven’t observed any attempts of the old queen’s loyalists to infiltrate our part of the city, although her own guards look ready for a scrap.”

Alright, I’m their second queen.

“You dw- everyone- everypony always looks ready for a full-scale war,” I wave my hoof dismissively, “Anyway, is there new information on the queen?” I do my best not to reveal that I have no idea who the speaking dwarf is talking about… or who he himself is for that respect. He looks military-ish, even for a dwarf. Granite, I think, is his name. It would help if I could see more of him than his orange beard, “What if she decides on a direct confrontation?”

Granite’s moment of hesitation tells me more than the dwarf. Things definitely aren’t as great as he’ll try to make them seem next.

“There are less of us, and they still have access to most of the foundry district, the castle, and majority of the infrastructure… and food,” he shakes his head, realizing he’s undermining the point he’s trying to make, “but we have the storehouses, vaults, and free access to the outlying mine shafts. We are better equipped, and we have enough supplies to last a long time.”

“Can we talk to her? I mean, her problem can’t be with me-”

“SHE IS BREAKING THE FABRIC OF DWARFDOM!” bellows a deep voice from the crowd, and a dwarf stands up from the table, pushing through the tavern with everyone hastily getting out of the way. Contrary to everyone else, he’s only wearing a steel-plated leather armor combined with a charcoal black cloak which dramatically billows behind him. The hood covering his entire head only adds to his villain-esque appearance. All he needs is a sun symbol painted somewhere on him, and we’re home completely.

That he seems important would be the understatement of the day. Note to self- no, note to Two - don’t punch in the face even if he’s too annoying, unless you can punch so hard the shockwave sends us back in time before the punch, in which case repeat as needed.

”Duly noted. I will ask Scream for some tips on a changeling time-travelling martial art. We can call it bug-shi-do.”

The dwarf’s stomping entrance loses a lot of its gravitas thanks to Scream’s loud yawn which the dwarves thankfully can’t hear.

“SHE CANNOT BE REASONED WITH, AND SHE MUST BE DESTROYED!” the dwarf booms. How can a voice so loud come from someone so small is a mystery. That dwarf must be eighty-five percent lungs.

“Volume a little to the left, please?” I rub my forehead, “I can hear you just fine, cloaky.”

The resounding gasp from everyone in the tavern shows I’ve just said something very very wrong. The dwarf withdraws his hood, revealing a bald head, but a mighty fine grey beard.

Oh, and a disgusted scowl. That’s never a good sign.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, DWARF?!”

I might reconsider the punching option, although I’d feel safer with a warrior by my side. No offence to Two.

”None taken,” she replies, ”I am aware of my weak points, and I’ll be working on them as soon as I have some time. All I ask for is a punching bag, preferably with that guy inside.”

”You’re an infiltrator, Two, not your mom.”

”I’ll infiltrate his skull with my hoof. Lateral diplomacy, I think I’ll call it.”

”Changing someone’s mind isn’t a synonym for lobotomy, Two.”

”Technically, it is...”

”Shush, or I’ll feed you to Scream!”

”Error four oh four, ovipositor to mouth resuscitation course not found,” the alicorn mumbles something I don’t understand, and judging by Two’s puzzled glance neither does she. In fact, Scream has been rather quiet today. Not that I'm complaining.

“I politely asked you to stop yelling,” my attempt at easing the tension clearly isn’t helping, “Seriously, half of the guys here must have a crazy hangover from yesterday, and I’m not in the best shape after all my dueling either,” I lie.

A quiet round of cheers and some mugs raised my way give me some courage, but the way everyone shuts up as soon as the black dwarf looks at the offenders saps it away immediately.

“WE ARE THE VOICE OF TRADITION, AND IN THESE TRYING TIMES IT IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN EVER TO BE HEARD LOUD AND CLEAR!” he stomps the floor, “THE QUEEN IS TRYING TO ERASE WHAT MAKES US DWARVES, OUR CONNECTION WITH THE DEPTHS, THE PROPER SEPARATION OF MARES AND STALLIONS, AND SHE’S UNDERMINING OUR FAITH AND TRADITIONAL SOCIETY OUR ANCESTORS-”

Suddenly, something beeps quietly, making the dwarf stop and pull out a wand-like device from a belt around his chest. Huh, that’s actually a smart place for a tool belt, not the waist like I’ve seen ponies do all this time. Easier to reach, and with more space.

“Hmm… who ARE you anyway?” the dwarf’s quieter voice isn’t comforting at all with all the new open suspicion replacing previous fire and fury.

”What was the backstory again, Two?”

”You’re my cousin Brick. You live on the 162. avenue, which by my math should be the edge of the residential district, and you’re a miner. Speaking of the new guy, I saw how some mares scowled when he stood up. My guess is that the faith and tradition he’s talking about could be a topic we could use to our advantage.”

“Brick, miner and the best damn duelist in this city,” I challenge the weird dwarf, “If you want to know more, you’ll have to pry it from my cold, empty mug,” I grin. Now there’s something I’m willing to do. If there’s a dwarf I’d like to see explode, I’m looking at him.

“My cousin,” adds Hammer.

He points the device at her. It beeps again. I don’t think that’s a good thing.

“And you are…?”

“A-hem!” a female voice clears her throat, and the crowd of sitting and standing dwarves shuffles again, “That’s my daughter, dark priest!” Crumble’s reddish-brown mane pokes out, and she strides over to Two, “And she deserves a spanking for running off without telling me,” she smacks Hammer’s head softly, much to the mare’s pouting.

The cloaked dwarf flicks his wand to Crumble. It doesn’t beep. That really can’t be good.

“Ah, greetings, Hammer. And to you too, new queen,” Steelback’s voice comes from the door, “I come with an offer from the… other queen-”

“WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF AN IMPORTANT BUSINESS, SURFACE DWELLER!” the dwarf cuts him off, “and this... ‘dwarf’ doesn’t seem to be who she presents herself to be.”

“Hey, Hammer’s IS my daughter!” Crumble scowls.

“She did save my from my predicament,” agrees Steelback, “Without her, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“QUIET! I AM DOING THIS FOR YOU,” he clicks a button on the wand pointed at me, and suddenly everything feels completely wrong. There’s no way to explain it, but in one moment, every molecule of my body wants to immediately revert to my changeling shape. It’s on such a deep and physical level, that I can’t control it for long, and feel myself giving in.

Time stops, and the familiar inky depths of the hive mind envelop me.

”What’s going on?” asks Two, standing next to me as I gasp for breath.

”I… I think whatever the dwarf is doing is forcing me to change back into myself. I can’t resist it at all. Good thinking, Two, pulling us here.”

The little changeling beams proudly.

”Asskissing time later,” Scream paces around us, ”Hmm, a good idea actually. Note to self - make boss bug and mini bug bang. Possibly king here could use Two as a living fleshlight.”

”Wh- I- huh-” Two’s face turns as red as her mane immediately, she catches my glance, and begins turning around in a circle as if chasing her tail.

”Don’t break my changelings, Scream,” I chide the alicorn. I’m far too used to these kinds of comments by now. One, I salute you, you were a great teacher.

”I think she’s having fun thinking about it,” Scream snorts, ”Anyway, I’m pretty sure that thing forcing you to change is a device with a crystal-based power source, since I can’t sense any magic from the dark priest himself. I’d like to see the device later if possible.”

”What does dark priest mean?”

”Trouble. I recall them being sort of overseers of tradition and ultimate arbiters of dwarven race. And they keep the real Silversmith secrets to themselves, so deposing them with raw power is next to impossible.”

”Ohhhh, it’s the clergy Steelback was talking about,” I put two and two together, and grin, ”Now I understand… traditions like mares able to only wear chainmail and dig in certain areas as Crumble said.”

”Umm,” Two raises her hoof, intently staring at the ground instead of me or Scream, ”I think there’s something happening with dwarven traditions and the real queen. The dark priest seemed really pissed off at her.”

”Those are all important observations for later,” I admit, ”but how do we prevent being revealed and chopped to bits right now?”

”I’ve got an idea, but it’s risky,” says Two, ”If anything goes wrong, I need you to not visibly help me no matter what.”

”I’m not gonna like it, am I?”

”Oh boss,” Two bares her fangs in a horrifying smile for someone so small, ”you’re gonna love it. And maybe as a reward...” her eyes flick to Scream who bursts out laughing.

We return from the safety of the hive mind into reality before I have to deal with a horny alicorn infecting ‘mini bug’ with more dirty ideas.

A reality in which Hammer pounces forward, and with a beautiful, love-fueled, uppercut punches the dark priest so hard he makes a backflip in the air. As if on accident, Hammer kicks the dropped transformation want towards the dais with her hind leg.

Petrified silence spreads through the entire tavern. What happened to no punching?

”I may have forgotten that the dwarves have always respected their clergy to death despite disagreements. Two probably just committed high treason of sorts. They’ll pile on her aaaany second now,” Scream shrugs, amused and sadistic smile on her full lips, ”Let’s see how you deal with that.”

”Watch me, alicorn,” replies Two, ”AND NEXT TIME SAY SOMETHING THIS IMPORTANT SOONER!”

“YOU are the old order!” yells Hammer, stepping above the stunned dark priest with a growl, “The old order that doesn’t allow us to wear proper armor! The old order not letting us mine where we need! We mares can drink like stallions, and as you lie here under me, everypony can see we sure can FIGHT just like stallions!”

”Two, I’m certain this is why he was pissed off in the first place, and the other dwarves don’t look too happy either. Stallions, that is. Mares seem pretty eager to see how this goes. Ease up.”

“I don’t want to completely break the norms that have served us for ages,” Hammer corrects the course, “I don’t want to tear the fabric of society, but arbitrary rules don’t help anything!” she punches the air.

“YEAH!” yells Crumble in support. Thank hole for mothering instinct we changelings barely have, “If a mare can pass a deep core mining exam, then she can wear the plate armor as much as any stallion, and if a stallion doesn’t want to only mine, he should be allowed to pursue his moss-growing dreams too!”

Quiet cheers erupt between the recognizable ‘lightly’ armored mares and even few nodding full metal buckets, although those prove a little distorted due to the helmets.

“YOU DARE TOUCH-” the dark priest recovers enough to get kicked by Hammer again.

“Get,” Two calls upon the strength gained from the crowd’s admiration and, amusingly enough, growing arousal from some its members nearby, grabs the squirming dwarf by his barrel, stands up on her hind legs, and lobs him with so much strength that he shatters the thick wooden door of the tavern on the way, “OUT!”

Most of the dwarves are still frozen, clearly uncomfortable with everything.

“Until you are willing to talk about some sensible reform that doesn’t harm anypony,” adds Hammer as an afterthought. Saved, definitely, mhm, no problem for future me there.

I pity future me. I want to hug him, give him a pat him on the back, and then return to being present me, because future me is on fire.

Some dwarves get up and leave, but those are the minority. Breathless seconds pass as Hammer comes back to my side, hiding the transforming device in a pouch on her belt.

The dwarf giving me the report before the dark priest’s interruption clears his throat.

“Ahem… I’m not keen on such behavior towards the dark priests, but...” he leans to my ear, whispering, “how about allowing gold rims on the traditional steel armor?”

Tilting my head, I allow myself an internal smile.

”Two, you are a genius.”

”Trust me, I’m an infiltrator,” she replies, brimming with confidence, ”and the best lateral diplomat ever.”

I raise my voice just enough for the closest dwarves to catch my response.

“Gold, silver, or gem decorations anywhere on the armor. In moderation, of course.”

And here it comes - the whispers, the smiles…

...the nods.

And the dwarf adds, still in a hushed tone:

“Most of us want some change, but what the queen promised that caused the split was obviously false. We are good dwarves, we believe in the clergy, but they don’t see the benefits of progress, only the drawbacks. Outside influence like you might be just what we need. And if not...” he lets the end of the sentence hang in the air.

Outside influence? Uh oh.

“What do y-?”

With a smile at my frozen expression, he takes a step back.

“As per my report -” he continues, “There has been no military movement from the queen’s part of the city-”

And this is why I should leave infiltrating to infiltrators. In my defense, as I said, putting me in charge was Two’s idea.

We’re in goop, not deep goop yet, but we’re definitely treading slime and sinking.

***

Where do I even start?

The official business for day one is over, and my head is spinning already. What time it is I have no idea, but from the flow of the city around I’m pretty sure it has to be the equivalent of a pony evening. Anyway, after the briefing into which Granite added some subtle references to the queen’s history, further ensuring me that he does know that I’m not who I’m making myself be, some dwarf led me to what’s supposed to be a luxury suite on the second floor of the tavern - actually the only second floor I’ve seen within the rather flat dwarven city, where I was allowed to rest. Steelback and Crumble wanted to have a chat about something doubtlessly important, but I needed to think about events and about what to do next, so I asked everyone to leave me alone for a while, hopped on a sinfully comfortable bed, and closed my eyes.

So, things are like this:

Brauheim is currently undergoing a civil dispute between the dwarves loyal to the queen and those who stood with the now deceased king. The royal couple has ruled Brauheim for nearly a century. From what I understand, dwarves on average live about twice as long as surface ponies, and aren’t as fragile in their old age. However, over a year ago, the queen began to convene with younger dwarves, trying to get rid of some traditional values of the dwarf society - roles for mares and stallions, allowed armor, jobs… some of the things Crumble mentioned before and much more. The older and more traditional dwarves including the king didn’t like it, and openly fought the queen’s requests, believing she simply promised everyone what they wanted in order to gain followers and power for something other than the outwardly presented social progress. Granite did say, however, that a change was due, but the queen’s approach was too fast, impact too big, and she made powerful enemies in the dark priests who openly opposed her. The unthinkable happened, though, and the progressive dwarves banded together in much greater numbers than the traditionalists, and limited the clergy’s influence over their lives. The dark priests supposedly wanted to avoid bloodshed, so they helped the overwhelmed dwarven king against the queen’s dwarves by collapsing ancient hallways, thus splitting Brauheim in two - the queen’s part of the city, and the king’s. Two thirds now belong to the queen based in the ancient castle, and one third to the more traditional dwarves who followed the now exploded king with their seat of power being the largest tavern in Brauheim.

Unfortunately, as Granite so helpfully explained, my open defiance to the dark priests’ agenda means that the support they showed to the old king is likely to be gone, and if the queen gets to know it, and then decides to take the rest of the city by force, we’re pretty much screwed. By ‘we’, I mean Brauheim, because the civil war will be bloody. Now, the good thing is that I can still play it on both sides - even the more traditional dwarves want some change, which means I might be able to negotiate with the queen, and if I keep the social changes slow and covert, I might not piss off the clergy too much. There’s also the possibility of it being too late after Two’s stunt, but I’m pretty sure that if we were openly revealed as changelings, we’d be dodging fireballs all the way back to Las Pegasus anyway.

Not that I really should care about what happens to the dwarves, to be honest, it’s just… well… the way Two pouts whenever Crumble hugs her like her own dwarven daughter is too funny. Plus, the little bugger likes her, no matter how serious and changeling-y she tries to look. A military conflict would cause too much unnecessary pain on all sides.

I mean, the dwarves are my best source of information and food. That’s my official reason and I’m sticking to it. I’m not a weakling, I’m a king who knows what he’s doing and can lead his changelings-, well, changeling towards a better tomorrow.

And as long as I keep repeating it thousand times a day, I might believe it at some point.

I’m too soft to be a good ruler. I mean, not going full Chrysalis is a good thing, but a strong hoof is needed, and I don’t think I’ve got that.

”Stop sulking, boss bug!” Scream appears, smiling as usual, which is always a mixed bag, ”I’ve got a job for you, and I don’t have much time because I just came up with a fun way to screw with mini bug and I want to give it a shot before I forget.”

”Your lack of caring for our well-being astounds me. It shouldn’t, but it still does. Don’t worry, I’ll get used to it sooner or later.”

”I’ll make you swallow those words, among other things,” she nods to my traditional dwarven tool belt hanging from the bedside table, ”The anti-transformation device mini bug has with her made me think-”

”About how to use it as a dildo?” I can’t help taking a jab at the unhelpful alicorn.

”Pff… something this small? I could fit you inside me, and I don’t mean your equipment, I mean you,” she deflects it easily, ”Now shut up and listen, smartass. I think the device detects waves representing the hive link connection between changelings, and is sensitive enough to catch them even when you’re not talking. Why it is so specifically tuned to changelings… well, I’ve got my theory, but there’s no fun in telling you everything, right?”

I open one eye just to raise my eyebrow at her, then I sigh. I wish this wasn’t just a game to her, but it’s still a vast improvement over the hive rulers, no matter how often I have to remind myself that.

”Fine, you want to see us squirm, I get it. And it looks to me like the dwarves have some experience with changelings despite being hidden from other races. So what can you tell me?”

”I’ve been playing chess with chatterbug recently, and I think the blocking method I’m using based on what Wistful taught him to hide him from anyone could work against the detection function of the dark priest device,” she looks to the side, ”Yes, we’re talking about you- no, no I will not! Absolutely n-” Scream rolls her eyes, ”Chatterbug says ‘hi’,” she breathes out.

Seeing a vein throb on Scream’s forehead makes all this almost worth it.

”Hi, Three, I’m glad you’re alright. Wait, you taught him to play chess?”

Scream looks at the ceiling, whistling innocently.

”Well, at first he couldn’t grasp the concept of the movement, really, but now that I make the pieces from chocolate, he eats both his fallen and the ones he manages to get from me. Always a fun bloodbath, metaphorically, more a fudgebath. The hard part is to stop him from eating them before the game. What I mean to say here is that proper motivation is the most important thing.”

”And that relates to the dark priest device how?”

”Huh? Oh, nothing, I just lost a train of thought-”

Oh I bet you did, you manipulative jiggly ass. Just casually mentioning Three now, riiight.

”-Anyway, I think I can teach both you and Two how to hide your communication.”

”Won’t it block me from talking to Two?”

”No no no,” she answers, possibly even genuinely, ”It should hide you from any unlinked changelings and the device, that’s it. Now talk to mini bug while I try to put it in terms a changeling can understand.”

It’s like… it’s like creating an imaginary tunnel inside the hive mind. Something similar to what Three said about Wistful, that he showed him how to dig a hole where he could hide from the hive rulers. It’s not difficult, if I’m doing it right, that is.

”Hey, Two, Scream’s teaching me to hide myself from the detection device, and needs us to communicate. Can you hear me? Does it feel different?”

”Hmm… kinda, but I think I can imitate it easily,” I feel her reaching into the fresh information about the method of concealment within our hive mind, ”Speaking of which, tell big green eyes that I’m waiting for her in disguise.”

”I’ll be with you in a minute,” answers Scream, ”I just need to make boss bug here do what he doesn’t want to do.”

”I don’t have any problems with you teaching me to hide, Scream, really.”

”I didn’t mean that. What I mean is our little thing about a proper magical item, remember? You’re the king- I mean the queen of dwarves now, so get to searching.”

”I know it’s pointless to say I won’t do it until you tell me what’s it for, I just want my complaint on the record.”

Scream grins, and disappears, her voice echoing through the now empty suite:

”Let’s just say that the black king needs a pawn in addition to his bishop.”

My ears perk up as a surge of adrenaline brings me renewed purpose. I must find Granite. As I shoot out of the suite, Scream’s laughter follows me.

“Proper motivation, I get it.”

Thankfully, few questions around the bar later, someone is able to point me Granite’s way, and I recognize the dwarf’s rusty orange beard several streets away in a plaza which now serves as a makeshift market in our part of Brauheim haggling with another one over…

“Gold foil, really?” I tilt my head, “Starting on the social change a bit too early, Granite.”

“Aaahhh… ‘ queen Brick’,” the dwarf’s voice reassures me that I guessed this walking armor’s beard correctly, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I need a source of magic.”

“What?”

“A source of raw magic - charged crystal, magical artefact, anything-”

”Scream, how much magic do you need?”

”The more the better,” I hear the alicorn’s voice. She isn’t around, though, which makes me think she’s doing something elsewhere, and I’m just one of many things on her mind.

“-anything big,” I finish the sentence.

Granite rubs his beard.

“We don’t use magic as such, instead we rely on electricity produced by thermal generators deep near the magma streams. I noticed you know Rift ambassador Steelback. Maybe he’d be able to get you something magical.”

”Scream, how about electricity?”

”Nope. Ask him about Silversmith lantern.”

I want to push Scream for more details, but I’ll do it after Granite rats me out for not being a dwarf, and tries to kill me because what I’m asking for will be an ancient ancestral artefact sacred to the entire dwarven race.

Am I becoming too pessimistic? Nah.

“I heard about something called the Silversmith lantern. How about that, Granite?”

I must be getting used to dwarf expressions, because behind the slot of his helmet I see the the faintest twitch of muscles as the dwarf narrows his eyes.

“You know a lot for a random dwarf who got to power yesterday...” his tone turns dangerous. I need to tread lightly. Or… or I can show I trust him. He had a perfect chance to leave me hanging after the incident with the dark priest and he didn't, albeit it was for his own agenda.

I take a deep breath, and make the dangerous choice.

“I need a source of real magic. Electricity won’t work, I think. What for, I can’t tell you, but it’s personal. It has nothing to do with Brauheim or you dwarves, just me.”

“US dwarves,” Granite nods forwards, and sets a quick pace, “Speaking of which, you can be damn sure I’ll want something for this.”

“Yeah, I get it,” I nod, “As long as it doesn’t put me or my… friends in danger, I’ll pay my debt. You have my word, for what little it’s worth.”

“Heh heh. A true stallion’s worth is only determined by the weight of his word,” he lowers his voice, “and I’ll make you keep your promise both to me and to Brauheim, changeling.”

So he wasn’t bluffing. The dark priest’s device had to reveal something to someone as close to myself as Granite was at the time. Would it be stupid to hope that he was the only one to notice?

Yes, yes, it would. Better get ready for a Raid.

We enter what looks like a huge foundry, the floor of which is almost as expansive as the main tavern. Between anvils, bellows fuming into furnaces by the walls, and streams of molten steel, Granite leads me towards a metal lamp with hexagonal crystal covered in decorative carvings as its center set in the back wall.

“Here you go, an eternal lantern,” he chuckles, “If you need something bigger, you’ll have to ‘negotiate’ with the dark priests, by which I mean they won’t give you anything, and they won’t be fooled, just like the one back in the tavern wasn’t. We don’t really need these anymore, but they still are ancient and useful in the few rare cases of power outage.”

“We’ll have to talk about that, but now I need to...” I bite my lip as Granite clicks some buttons on the metal construction of the lamp, which releases the purple crystal, and he presents it to me.

”This was shockingly painless. What now, Scream?”

”The second part definitely won’t be. How are you on love?”

”Almost topped off thanks to Two feeding me after she won all the duels yesterday, and some from her stunt with the dark priest.”

”Nice, then we’ll see how much you can handle. We’ll need some safe place, and… some basic materials - wood, iron, some chitin.”

“Thanks, Granite. Say, can I get few iron ingots as well?”

“As the queen, easily,” he nods, “I’ll get you some helpers.”

About twenty minutes later, I’m back in my tavern room with six iron ingots, a gold one, small pouch of gems, and the magical crystal from the lantern. When it’s all safely set in the middle of the room on the floor, and the door is locked, Scream reappears.

”Now, doing this remotely will be an interesting experiment, certainly. Get ready,” her eyes flash green, and my mind is flooded with symbols, images, feelings, and calculations I don’t understand at all, ”You’re going to need all your concentration for this. I’m not kidding.”

”Two, I’m shutting down for now. Scream’s going to do something big.”

”Alright, boss. I’m in a different tavern in the storage district. Scream wants to do something here with me too. Good luck.”

”You too, Two,” I block my links, and focus on Scream’s stream of instructions, ”Two said you were supposed to be with her.”

The alicorn waves her hoof.

”I am, or I will be in a moment. I can do this ritual in my sleep. YOU can’t, so focus on yourself.”

Sounds legit.

Crushing a fragile topaz with my love-enhanced hoof, I begin drawing a circle on the floor with the yellow dust, oblivious to everything else, and hoping I understood what Scream hinted at correctly.

7: For each drone purchased you get one free.

View Online

Two, once again in a different disguise - this time as a black, dark-blue maned dwarf mare wearing a short chain mail, looks into a mug on her table. The tavern she’s sitting in is a much smaller one in the far corner of the king’s part of Brauheim, but no less lively thanks to the evening stream of dwarves ending another busy mining day. The uniform rhythm of everyone despite any connection to daylight outside supports the theory that dwarves are half alcohol, half iron ingot, and half clock, all rolled into half of an earthpony.

She doesn’t flinch as our irritating and invisible golden alicorn slips on an unoccupied chair next to her. Corner tables are always a sign - approach at your own risk, no matter the culture.

”Ahhhh,” Scream stretches her legs, ”Boss bug is busy, chatterbug is... hopefully in pain, so it’s just the two, heh, of us.”

”Which means?” Two looks up from her mug, giving the full tavern a once over just in case someone wanted to approach her.

”Well, since your real mother is kinda… gone, I decided that I can help you learn some basic stuff a growing changeling needs, namely getting lust.”

”I’m okay on energy,” replies Two simply.

”Right now, definitely, but what if the dwarves reveal you? Replacing a loved one isn’t always possible, and it’s time consuming, while a one-night stand is a quick way to get some good old delicious lust. Plus, it’s your job to be able to feed your king under any circumstances. That’s what infiltrators are for.”

Two grits her teeth in determination.

”I understand. Why should I listen to you, though, and not the boss?”

”As you might have guessed, boss bug isn’t the most assertive kind of changeling, and from what chatterbug told me, and he knows your boss a lot better than you do, his experience with seduction is mostly others trying to seduce him. In short, if he was on his own, he’d either starve, or he’d have to attack someone and use venom on them, which supposedly makes love and lust taste much worse, and a softy like him would definitely regret using force. I, on the other hoof, am the alicorn of Lust, the being whom everyone needs deep down, the empress of wet dreams, the goddess of hot nights, and so on. I can show you how to turn mares, stallions, and anything in between, no matter the species, into a drooling, begging, hot mess,” Scream winks, shifts on the chair, and suddenly Two’s attention switches to how the flickering yellow light of torch-imitating light bulbs flows over Scream’s golden coat, leaving shadows accentuating the curve of her inner thigh-

The young changeling forces herself to look away, breathing heavily. For a moment there, all her instincts screamed at her to throw the alicorn on the floor, mount the mare until she was bulging with eggs, and then keep going until she herself slips unconscious from Scream’s back, exhausted and empty, but with already growing addictive need for the next encounter.

”I’m… I’m… stop!” Two whispers, unable to control the trembling of her mental voice, ”I don’t want you, I want the boss- I mean I want to serve the b- not in that way, I just… it’s… I won’t let you use me against him.”

Scream chuckles.

”Oh my cute, little, smart bug, if I really wanted you to, you’d slit his throat without a moment of regret just for a second between my thighs. Aren’t you glad I’m on your side?”

Is she, really? Despite her currently heavily damaged self-control, Two is absolutely certain Scream is only on her own side, and as soon as she or the boss get in the way, the mischievous alicorn could quickly become an enemy deadlier than the entire dwarven civilization.

Two, shaking all over, empties her mug just to feel the searing warmth of alcohol strong enough to disinfect surgical equipment in order to combat Scream’s creeping influence warping and corrupting her imagination. Just like her mother did, according to Three’s words, she could drag the boss off somewhere, and ride him until-

”STOP!” she tries to shout, but even the mental words come out only as loud croak.

”Hmmm… perhaps I overestimated you,” says Scream, her suddenly disinterested voice working like a cold shower. Two slowly reclaims her mental balance, and after some more heavy breathing she’s finally able to focus on here and now.

”Wh-what do you mean?”

”I’m just a projection of myself, with no real power, and yet you still almost ran off to rape you ‘dad’ within seconds of me removing the barrier protecting you mortals from myself. Even chatterbug is more resilient than you are, although I don’t know why. I should ask, really, but I doubt we’d survive another completely unrelated coloring book story with either my sanity or his tongue intact.”

Two hangs her head low, ears splayed.

”I understand,” she grits her teeth, ”How can I become like you?”

”Survive to be eons old, become the living embodiment of what is basically a force of nature, and practice on all species, genders, and races. First interspecies, then cross, then break their taboos,” Scream pats rather overwhelmed Two’s head, ”Nevermind, let’s start small, by which I mean dwarf sized. We can work up to having fun with minotaurs or dragons later. First, it’s important to always be in charge. You can let yourself go in the heat of the moment if you trust someone, but when you’re hunting, you must be the one making decisions no matter what. Second, don’t headbutt targets in the crotch like you did to the minotaur, that’s frowned or painfully groaned upon. Also, butting too hard can end the encounter quickly, especially if an accidental horn is involved.”

Pouting Two nods, upon which Scream continues:

”Keeping cool will come with practice, so let’s just jump in and see where your changeling instinct takes you. Step one - pick a target. The dwarven helmets are a good protection, but you see that guy-” Scream points across the room where a stallion turns his head to follow the passing waitress’ plot, ”-take a peek? It’s not his first. He’s looking for some fun tonight. The married and taken stallions drink more, bitch about politics, and focus on different things. We’ll leave those for some other time. The pent-up ones smell different too,” Scream takes a deep sniff, smile spreading on her lips, ”Yep, we found someone ripe for the picking.”

”Different scent?” Two furrows her brows, enhancing her sense of smell. Old, spilled beer, coal dust lingering on the miners’ horseshoes, faint scent of the waitress’ incoming heat all become prominent. She’ll be ready in few days. It takes Two minutes to untangle and categorize each confusing whiff, but Scream doesn’t rush her. She grins, though, when Two’s eyes suddenly go wide, ”Like… sweat, a lot of heavy dirt and sweat? Give me a moment.”

Two stands up, walking over to the counter and ordering another mug of liquor, all while deciphering scents belonging to dwarves she passes by. Closer, she can almost feel the warmth radiating from the target dwarf, and connects the heavy smell with the pink sun she can ‘see’ when closer.

”I think I’ve got it!” Two nods after sitting down at her table again, ”I can see six more I could go for.”

”Only six?” Scream raises an eyebrow, ”Well, not bad for a first try. Eventually, anyone here should be a potential target. The married ones often want a quick roll in the hay a lot more than the singles, they just aren’t allowed to,” she licks her lips, ”which makes tempting them so much more fun. A little test of their relationship, you might say. The worthwhile survive, tempered by me. The ones doomed to failure end up in rage and tears. More passion either way. Anyway, step two - did you notice how he didn’t turn his head when you passed by unlike with that chocolate waitress? We definitely want to change that. Hop to the bathroom, and we’ll make sure you turn more than just his head when you come out.”

”Mhm,” Two leaves the new, unfinished mug on the table as a sign she’ll be back shortly, because no well-behaved dwarf would leave alcohol un-drunk unless they were rolling unconscious under the table. Small side-door with a chain mail symbol lets Two through into the mare bathroom, and she slips into an unoccupied stall. Scream pushes her head through the stone wall due to limited space reasons.

”Hmmm… I’d say your overall size is right, although some stallions want their partners smaller or the more adventurous ones even bigger, but we’ll leave that for some other time. Let’s start from the top - mane. Light blue is nice, but I’d go a shade darker, because from what I’ve seen until now the dwarf natural colors are a bit dimmer than those of surface ponies. Let’s make it longer, too. No- move it onto one side so it hangs down to your cheek. Nice! Make it grow a little bit on the other side, just a little, as if you shaved it yesterday. Decent undercut, if I say so myself. That’s my good, little, cheap crackwhorse.”

”What’s a cra-”

”Don’t worry about that,” Scream waves her hoof through the wall, ”This makes you look cheap and wild, which to the dwarves could seem extremely exotic, or off-putting to some. We’ll have to see, because I’m not too versed in their culture. Eyes… let’s go with wine red. Show yourself-”

Two looks straight up at Scream.

”-Yep, works like a charm. Add some lipstick. I’m personally in favor of green or gold for the crazy effect, but that wouldn’t work on you in this disguise. Let’s go for a dark blue, but just the faintest touch of it.”

”I… don’t know what a lipstick is, Scream. Like… branches in the mouth?” Two taps the floor nervously, ”There’s no information about it in our hive mind, among a lot of other things I see around,” she sighs, "And that goes for a lot of things you're saying. I understand all the words... you just don't make much sense to me."

”Don't worry about that, this will help you get proper branches into your mouth. Thick, long, meaty branches,” she slowly traces a line on Two’s lips, ”Just add a little dark blue film where I touched you. Eeexcellent, I think I can freely call you smart bug more often than mini bug now.”

Two can’t help smiling when Scream pats her head. The happy expression doesn’t go too well with the cheap but attractive whorse look Scream is trying to build, but she doesn’t complain. After a second of pondering the result, Scream continues:

”So, the upper part that’s gonna help you attract your target is sorted out, now we need to go lower. Your coat should be a little longer, and shinier. No, that’s too much, you look like a bearded collie crawling from a tub of lard. Just a little more than before. Hmm… looks good, but- AH HAH! Add a faint touch of dark blue to it, it’ll reflect the electric lights better, and also fit with your mane and lipstick. Ohhh, now that’s bucking epic. If you weren’t so bony, I’d be tempted to bend you over the toilet and teach you the true meaning of deep core mining.”

”...pleasedo...” squeaks Two before jamming her hoof into her mouth, ”I mean… I mean...”

”I get it, I get it. Being too long around me even when I’m not trying to do anything is a problem for you mortals. But, if you can’t handle something as small as this, then I won’t be able to teach you, and you won’t serve boss bug to the best of your ability.”

Two grits her teeth, takes a deep breath, and with a determined expression totally unfitting her disguise, nods.

”This’ll be a problem. I might make you look good, but you’re making yourself look bad. Your expression doesn’t fit the image at all. Let’s sort out the easy part first - your body. Now, different stallions like different things, unless you make them think about what you want them to like. You can covertly change yourself as you notice where they glance as you talk to them, but that’s risky. The easy way is to flaunt your assets properly. If a stallion likes butts but you’re not exactly developed in that department, touch him with your soft coat, shift on the chair so that when he looks down he gets a quick peek of a thick nipple, you get the idea.”

”Why can’t I just max out on the butt, coat, thighs, and everything? Then no stallion would resist me, right?”

”As one fat Nightmare Night pumpkin in a different reality said more than once - WRONG! Being too over the top is a turn off, even if you’re myself. One, you’d look unapproachable. Only the dumbest douchebags with too high opinion of themselves would have the courage to talk to you, and if you took charge, those with less confidence would be suspicious you want to drug them, and that they’d wake up in a bathtub full of ice with a missing kidney. Plus, sex with stallions too full of themselves quite often sucks. It’s just in-out, in-out, roll over, snore. I like stallions who use their mouths properly and keep going even after I pass out. Those are keepers. Too bad ponies are only useful for few decades. Oh, where was I?” Scream returns to the subject when she notices Two listening intently, but now slightly confused, ”You don’t understand most of what I’m saying, do you?”

”I’m sorry. I know all the words, but there’s no experience within the hive mind that I can reach. I… most of it makes no sense to me.”

To Two’s surprise, Scream just smiles.

”Then we’ll just have to make you experience all of that. Over time, of course,” the alicorn rubs her hooves together, ”Ooooh, it’s so much fun having an apprentice! I’m actually giddy. Anyway, having somewhat of a one-track mind comes with the territory, I assume. So, no turning into the wet dream of all stallions for now. Let’s start off simple - you need bigger butt and thicker thighs. Alright, but that’s too fat, it needs to be firm, but enough to jiggle a little when you walk. Well done! Maybe more muscles on your front legs and chest? No no, that looks too warrior-y, and the chain mail already doesn’t fit too well anymore. Let’s stick to the original. Now we need to add a flaw that would add a touch of personality but wouldn’t ruin your appearance… too much.”

”A scar maybe?” offers Two, ”Some small one in a visible place? Mining accidents and cave-ins must be quite common. Plus, it could be a conversation starter.”

”Good thinking! Lower neck, I’d say? Hmm… looks good. Noticeable, but not obtrusive. Now go out there and get him!”

Two leaves the bathroom with one final look in the mirror. She has to admit Scream’s guidance has been helpful. What’s left is to find out just how much.

However, as soon as she returns to the main room after so much time spent in the stall, something different she didn’t smell before catches her improved nose. Something… familiar yet new. Immediately, she follows the scent towards the bar counter.

”Our dwarf is over there, smart bug,” comments Scream in the original direction.

”Not now, Scream. I smell… a changeling,” Two furrows her brows, ”Venom, to be exact. That dwarf,” she nods towards a solitary mare sitting on a barstool, ”has been bitten by someone. Very recently, too. Minutes, maybe?”

“Hello there,” with a friendly smile, Two sits on the stool next to the dwarf.

“Oh h- hi,” the the mare looks up from her drink into Two’s eyes. Two’s glowing wine-red eyes. She doesn’t know how to break anyone’s mind with just a thought, but her body is reacting to her need to be persuasive on instinct.

“Why so sad?” Two pushes her stool a little closer, and orders the other mare another drink. She downs it in one gulp, and after a moment of choking, she slams the mug down on the counter.

“I met the love of my life, and then he just walked away, giving me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit.”

“You know,” Two winks at her, “I’m kinda bored tonight. Can you tell me who was it? I feel like giving somepony the taste of their own medicine.”

“I don’t know...” hesitates the mare.

”Say a case of blue balls,” whispers Scream.

”What?”

”Just trust me.”

“How about a bad case of blue balls, hmm?” Two leans closer, wiggling her eyebrow, “A little strike for mare rights in this city.”

That makes the dwarf grit her teeth, and loudly order another drink.

“It was a dwarf with a brown beard,” she hisses, turning around and scanning the area, “Such beautiful black coat and cyan eyes...” shaking her head, she sighs, “Oh, he must have left. I could swear he was over there with the, yeah,” she points at another solitary mare sitting in a corner booth alone, ”with her. Damn, did he leave her too? What an ass! Lemme...” she blinks out of sync, the alcohol and Two’s befuddling pheromones finally catching up to her, “Lemme go tohk… talk.. thhr… to her. Kick dat… dat fake ass playa… in d… nuts… sis… ter,” she wobbles off towards the other seemingly downcast mare.

“Damn it,” Two curses quietly, leaving a coin on the counter as she rushes out of the tavern. Outside, she sniffs the marginally fresher air. The scent trail is weaker, but unmistakable, “Gotcha!”

Few minutes later, she catches up to a fully armored dwarf carrying a pickaxe on his back, and decides to follow him.

”Can’t he smell you too?” asks Scream as Two’s target leads them through the calmer hallways of nighttime Brauheim, ”It looks to me like he’s just walking around.”

”It’s possible,” admits Two, ”I’ve been trying to limit my trail in any way I can, but I’m new to this. However, there’s still enough dwarves everywhere so that I don’t stand out, I hope. We’ll see. He’s not walking around, he’s headed for the outer mine shafts.”

Some ten minutes later, Two has to drop her horseshoes and shapeshift her hooves into soft pads so that she can walk unheard in the mine tunnels. The target disguised changeling doesn’t seem bothered, though, as he’s happily humming a tune while his plate boots crush loose gravel underneath, giving Two more than enough cover. Either he knows what’s up, and is leading Two away into a dark corner, or… he’s really completely oblivious to her stalking.

The answer becomes apparent as he grabs his pickaxe, and begins chipping away at a wall with absolute precision in complete darkness.

”His natural night vision must be better than mine,” Two uses love to improve her eyesight, and stops the flow into her nose in order to save energy for a possible fight.

”Did the idea that you’re not much of a fighter cross your mind?” asks Scream.

”I’ll have to improvise,” Two grabs the dark priest’s device, aims it around the bend in the mining tunnel, and it fails to beep, leaving only the humming and sound of pickaxe hitting the wall. Nevertheless, she pushes the button.

“Argh.. wha-” the dwarf groans, as green sparks run through his coat as Two approaches, not lowering her wand. Before her, the spasming dwarf’s coat disappears, giving way to black chitin. Cyan eyes remain the same, only lose pupils and fill out with color.

The plate armor sags, dropping onto someone even smaller than the dwarf was. A changeling drone’s head peeks out of the neck hole of the heavy plate mail, head turning in panic, and eyes wide as it scrambles to push the armor off of itself before Two reaches it.

Two pushes the armor away, and the drone kicks her leg, immediately darting past her back through the tunnel, wings buzzing to help the small legs pump away.

Another use of the dark priest’s wand yields no result now that the drone has been revealed, so Two has to gallop as fast as she can to catch up, taking off her chain mail in the process.

The drone is quick, and Two has to burn love in order to catch up, feeling her energy reserves depleting rapidly. No matter how smart or adaptive Two is, she’s also very young and undeveloped, so her love capacity is nowhere sufficient for a long, strenuous combat and chase. With one final leap, she lands on the drone’s back, grabbing it tightly with her forelegs.

“Aaaaah!” the drone flails its legs, its blows being more annoying and painful rather than dangerous even to Two. She grabs its head, and smashes it against the jagged floor, repeating the process until the drone’s flailing subsides.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” growls Two.

“Uahgh...” the drone just moans over a thin trickle of green blood from a broken tooth.

”ALL THAT BEAUTY WORK AND NOW YOU’RE JUST PUNCHING THINGS! SEE, YOU CHIPPED THAT POLISHED HOOF.”

”I’ll use this body later, Scream, I promise.”

”I’m making you start off with three stallions at once for this...” the pouting alicorn disappears.

Two grabs the dazed drone by its neck.

”Talk!”

“I’m... a dwarf?” croaks the drone hopefully, before looking at himself, “Uh oh… the black stuff is… coal dust, right, coal d-” Two rams his head into the floor again, picking a more rocky spot.

“Try again.”

“Owww… please don’t kill me!” the drone covers its muzzle with forelegs full of holes, “I didn’t hurt anypony, miss dwarf, I just wanted to dig something, but they sent me to spy on the king’s side-”

“Who sent you?!”

The drone goes quiet, then furrows its brows.

“I… I… I can’t say-”

*Smash!* *Crack!*

“WHO sent you?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!” yelps the drone, “There’s something in my head. I can’t tell you, I don’t know! I swear I don’t know...” the drone breaks into sobs as Two grabs it by its head fin, ready to keep smashing until either brain or information come out.

Faced with the trembling and horrified small creature, Two stands back up while the drone keeps cowering on the floor, walks over to its hind leg, and-

*Crack*

-breaks it.

“Aaaahhh owowowowowow...” the drone in shock just keeps quietly crying, scared out of his chitin.

“Just so that you don’t get any funny ideas,” Two scowls. The drone apparently barely registers it, so she raises her voice, “GET UP!”

The broken, shaking, and crying pile of chitin tries to get up on three legs in fear of being hurt even further.

“Walk!” Two nods into the tunnel, keeping the crippled drone in front of her as she marches through the mining tunnels back into Brauheim. Aside from the drone’s quiet whimpering, the two walk in silence, Two shooting dirty glances at any occasional dwarf still roaming the streets under the dimmed night lights, and hiding the drone behind herself until they’re out of sight.

After the dwarf king’s split from the queen, the big tavern became the new town hall, and a vault bordering with residential district became the mostly unused prison. Two dwarven guards, though, still stand in front of the larger building, and don’t say a word as Two after returning into her disguise as Hammer leads the drone on the border of collapse from exhaustion and pain, ushering it into one of the smaller vaults where it immediately keels over onto a pile of gold coins, gasping for breath.

“If you move, I will find you. Don’t forget that,” says Two, closing the inside door behind herself, and walking over to the guards, “I’m Hammer, the new queen’s right hoof. Make sure nothing gets in and out of that vault. I’ll go inform the queen immediately.”

The metal buckets nod, and one takes his place by the inside door while the other remains within sight, but by the outer door.

”You know,” Scream says slowly, ”This kinda goes against boss bug’s ‘friends at all cost’ policy. That changeling wasn’t a threat.”

Two, striding towards the royal tavern, bites her lip.

”I don’t know what it can do. I don’t know its motivation or from where it came, but it said it was sent here by someone. I haven’t met a changeling other than the boss. I didn’t intend to give it a chance to get up and fight,” Two frowns, letting out a sigh, ”You were right, I’m not a warrior. I’m an infiltrator. The drone was actually physically stronger unless I used my love, and I’m running low. The armor, the constant shapeshifting we did in the bathroom, enhancing my senses, it was too much. I can barely walk, but I can’t show it. I must look strong, even if I can’t really be like that. I am the only changeling the boss has, which means I am his eyes and ears, as well as his hoof. I must be.”

”The thing is, smart bug, that you were trying something you aren’t built for - using force. You infiltrators are supposed to use mental abilities to control other changelings, not force. That’s for warriors. Maybe you just take after your mother a little too much. Chatterbox’ words, not mine.”

”Scream, I DON’T KNOW how to use anything like that! There’s NO information in the boss’ hive mind, which means he himself can’t use it or teach me. He did it once by accident. Unless you can teach me, there’s no one. I’ve got some instincts, and half of that is the punching my… mother left me, but that’s all.”

Scream is quiet for a moment before saying:

”I know how the things you changelings can do work, but I don’t know how to… evoke those biologically like you do. I can cast spells with the same effects, but that’s completely different.”

Two enters the tavern, immediately walking towards the stairs up.

”And can you teach me that?”

”That would be a waste of time and effort. Mental magic, that is. You have to understand what your body does on your own. If you want, let’s say, to blow something up...” Scream leaves the thought unfinished, ”No, I think you’ve got enough to learn about yourself before trying to control a force as unstable as raw magic.”

Two knocks on the boss’ door.

”Oh, finally some peace and quiet,” Scream beams, rubbing her temples, and Two feels a new hive link in her mind open, ”Looks like the ritual didn’t kill either of them. Is it bad that I feel somewhat disappointed?”

***

My legs are weak as noodles. My head hurts, and I’m seeing double. Outer layers of my chitin have been stripped by the raw magic coalescing in the magical circle, leaving me with something as soft as skin.

Blinking away tears, I see teal eyes staring back at me as the glow of the magic fades, leaving behind a black silhouette half my size.

The silhouette looks at its small hooves, claps them together, then turns its head up at me.

“Heya, boss!” it says, “OH MY HOLE, MY LEGS ARE ALL PURPLE AND GLOWY! I DON'T NEED MY SPEAR TIP ANYMORE.”

”Scream-” I croak.

”Yes, yes, you’re happy. I’m sure I’ll enjoy the silence too, but smart bug here has something to show y-”

I crash on the floor, passing out.

”Or... maybe later.”

8: New friends, new... enemies?

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“Ughh...” I moan, fighting off nausea, headache, and overall weakness, “Owww...” I add as a further explanation.

“He’s waking up, miss Scream!” says an overly enthusiastic voice, “Hey, boss. It’s me!” the voice counts under its breath, “...two… Three!”

Memories of what happened before my body shut down completely come flooding back, and my eyes shoot open.

A happy, beaming face, a worried, smaller face, and a twerking, golden butt greet me. I sit up, shoving my head through Scream’s jiggling plot.

“Boss, there’s something I need to tell-” Two opens her mouth.

”Rude,” the alicorn comments, turning around.

Without a word, I grab the drone who has been with me from the beginning, and whom I thought I’d never see again, and give him a crushing hug which makes him squeak. Three’s little legs flail a bit before locking around my barrel in response, and he nuzzles my neck.

“It’s really important, I caught-” Two tries again.

Must not cry.
Must not cry.
Must not cry.

Failing horribly. Can I at least try to avoid becoming a slobbering mess? Nope, doesn’t work either.

“Threeeeeeeee...”

“I caught a change-” and again.

I can’t see much over all the tears, but I can hear Three just fine when he says:

“I’m all solid again, boss. I lost my glowy spear tip, but that’s okay, because now my legs glow instead. It’s purple, though. Hmm...” I feel him shift in my embrace as he looks behind me where Scream must be standing, “Miss Scream, are there any settings on this body? Like can I change the glow to green?”

”No.”

“Or maybe make it change colors over time.”

”No.”

“I had something miss Eight called a Heart Swarming tree in my coloring book, and it was green with blinking lights all over. Can I do that? Like make each of the scribbles all over me look different?”

”No! And it’s Hearth’s Warming.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Is that some changeling holiday where we group up and-”

”NO! Dear black, hungry, empty darkness, please take me now!” I can practically hear the veins on Scream’s forehead throb.

“I caught a changeling!” Two manages to get herself ignored one more time.

Three turns his head around.

“We’re inside a really nice room, miss Scream. There’s no darkness here, but I can take you anywhere you want. I feel pretty strong. The boss and Two look really hungry, that’s true.”

“Scream’s head just exploded!” Two’s voice goes completely flat, knowing that she won’t be heard again, but she has to try.

“You’re the best Heart Swarming gift ever, Three,” I gently push him away, and look into the same smiling face that I remember, “And I officially declare this a changeling holiday.”

“There’s magma flowing through the tunnels, about to fry us...” says Two, “Almost here.”

“Aww, thank you, boss,” he scrunches his nose, and I feel love flow from him to myself, “And here you go, I’ve got enough.”

As the transfer finishes, making me feel a lot better, I see that the purple... runic symbols carved into Three’s chitin around his fetlocks, lower neck, and waist go a little dimmer.

“Ancient evil has awoken, set on devouring the world and only we can stop it...” says Two in a singsong voice now.

“Thanks, Three,” I pat his head, mentally probing his hive link which accepts me easily, “Speaking of purple stuff, Scream, what’s that all over Three?” I nod towards Three now sitting in front of me, and wipe my eyes.

The alicorn is now lying on her back on the soft bed, staring at the ceiling.

”Binding runes,” she sighs, ”I guess it’s time for a lecture then. The body you made for Three is a magical construct made using a derivative spell from the original conjuration I learned from the primal alicorn of Life millennia ago. Normally, these bodies are extremely tough, but the real ritual requires divine power rather than mundane materials and magic. Unfortunately for chatterbug here, you can’t handle my divinity, so I modified the original spell so that you could perform it without the godly part. The difference is that now if chatterbug pisses me off, I can throw him into a volcano and he won’t just crawl back out. In short, his new body is only a little more durable than a normal changeling one. If you noticed, the ritual needed chitin instead of raw divinity which it normally would, so it absorbed most of yours. Speaking of which, you now look as if you were made of rubber.”

I poke myself, and the unexpectedly soft layer of chitin gives in.

“I definitely feel like it, too. I’m not sure I should spend the love Three gave me on faster healing.”

”I’d advise against that,” Scream circles her hoof around, ”You see, these bodies need energy to keep going, and here’s where things become… unpredictable. I usually make these for an alicorn, which means they’ll never run out of power, and only stop working when destroyed. In the extremely rare cases when I made them for ponies, mostly unicorns, their natural magic was enough to keep them going unless they did something stupid. As for changelings who require external sources of raw energy as food… I don’t know how long this body will last. My theory is that chatterbug will need more love, because in addition to feeding himself, he’ll need some of the gained energy to keep the body and the binding spell going.”

I smile, but only to myself. Now this is something Scream doesn’t seem to know, but Three used to be this little, self-sufficient love generator. If it’s enough, I don’t know, but the red sun I see glowing inside him again doesn’t look weaker than before when he was still alive. In fact, he’s actually radiating a tiny amount of love which Two seems to be indirectly absorbing despite glaring at Three and frowning all this time.

Scream points to the center of the smudged magic focusing circle where a dim glass ball is now sitting.

”Well, we’ve managed to drain a Silversmith power crystal which must have lasted for over two thousand years in prime shape, so I suppose the ritual was a complete success. BUT, if chatterbug gets too annoying, I can shut the body off, and...” she trails off, her eyes going wide with horror, ”Oh no… what have I done?” she whispers, ”It doesn’t work like with pony souls...”

“Scream?” I raise an eyebrow at her sudden panic.

”Nothing!” she vanishes, ”Smart bug, magic kaboom training later!” are her lingering words, and then silence.

I’m far from complaining right now. Three’s back, Two’s okay but hungry, I’m alive despite feeling as if a dragon chewed me up and spat out.

Right, Two’s hungry. I strengthen my link to her, and send love her way, enough to fill her up. She can’t handle much, come to think of it. Judging from what Three transferred into me, even he can store vastly more love than Two.

“Thank you, boss,” Two takes a deep breath, stretching and relaxing.

“That’s my job, Two,” I give her a weary smile, “So, are both of you okay?”

“Mhm,” they both nod.

An idea comes to me.

“Hey, Three. I know you don’t have your spear tip anymore, so how about this?” I grab the dwarf king’s helmet, and put it on his head. It fits reasonably well, and from experience I know it’s really light for its toughness.

“Oh my hole, I’ve got a reserve head!” Three adjusts the piece of armor, brightening my day with another smile, “That’s WAY better than a spear bit, though I liked that one too. Thank you so much, boss.”

“That’s a helmet, Three, not a head.”

“I know, I know, boss. It’s a love helmet +3.”

“What? Is it magical or something?”

“Nope, it’s a helmet, I love it, and I’m wearing it,” he hops around, seeing whether the helmet stays on his head.

”King, may I ask something?” I hear Two’s quiet, and slightly annoyed for some reason, voice through the hive link. Did I miss something while slobbering all over Three?

”What’s wrong?”

”What use is a mentally damaged drone in this situation? We already are in an underground full of tunnels.”

”I can carry stuff or dig even more tunnels!” salutes Three, his hoof going ‘tink’ against the helmet, proving Two’s attempt at hiding her words from him failed miserably.

”Well, and?” Two presses on, switching to normal speech.

”I mean, I’m a drone. We dig and carry stuff,” Three smacks his hooves together, ”Oh, and I’m really good at infiltrating.”

Two raises an eyebrow.

“Now THAT I need to see.”

“He is, actually,” I nod, much to Two’s surprised look, “Although I wouldn’t try to copy him if I were you.”

“But… I mean...” Two’s shoulders slump, her ears splay back, and frown spreads on her face, “Rank three…? I’m Two, and I brought dwarves under your hoof, king...”

“Aww, don’t be sad,” Three walks over to Two, giving her a tight hug. The infiltrator resists, but can’t escape the embrace no matter what, so she eventually gives up with a scrunched nose, instead basking in the love constantly radiating from Three.

“Yeah, don’t bother with ranks here. Three’s Three only because his real rank was in hundred thousands, and even I can’t remember it, but there was three in it somewhere.”

“Oh? Oh!” Two tries to hide it, but I can feel relief from her through her link. Suddenly smiling, she pats Three’s head, and pushes him away.

“Better?” he asks.

“Definitely,” her smile fades immediately, “Stupid, stupid!” she smacks herself in the temple.

“I’m not that bad,” Three pouts.

“Not you, me!” Two stands up, looking me in the eyes, “Boss, I needed to see you in person. I caught a changeling!”

“W-What?” I stare at her, frozen for a second, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?!”

“I can tell you three very specific reasons why you ignored all my attempts, boss,” she gives me a smug look while glancing my favorite drone’s way, but not after a quick facehoof.

“You win this round,” I admit, transforming back into the new dwarven queen.

“Nope,” Two’s good mood returns along with a cheeky grin as she shapeshifts into Hammer, “I just win.”

She trots out of the room with me and Three in tow.

“Those are some tiny earthponies,” says Three when a trio of bearded and heavily armored dwarves rush over to us as soon as we enter the tavern’s main floor, all eyes locked on the… undisguised Three. Thankfully, most of even the heaviest drinkers are already passed out due to the late time of the night.

“Umm, I-” I open my mouth when the leading dwarf guard barks:

“What is that?!” he points at Three.

“Imma dwarf!” answers the drone, “See? I’m a helmet plus Three.”

My jaw drops. Two facehoofs. He’s not even speaking dwarvish...

”Well… fucking… done...” Two growls through gritted teeth, ”I set everything up to get boss in charge, and now this...”

The dwarf narrows his eyes.

“And that?” he points at Three’s black chitin while the other two raise their forelegs with flamethrower nozzles attached to them.

To my complete horror, Three grabs the dwarf’s hoof, and pokes his chest with it.

“Armor, see? Fits a lot better than yours, although those deadly spikes on the back look really cool. Plus,” Three raises his hoof, making the dwarf back off a little, “It’s got mining lamps built in. I think I can make them change colors too, but I’ll figure out how later.”

The dwarf taps against Three’s chitin, tilts his head, then taps his chest again…

...then he takes his own helmet off, revealing that, in fact, he’s a she. The bushy, brown beard is fake, attached to her ears from the back via a set of wires invisible under the helmet.

She pulls out another fake, generic, brown beard from her saddlebag, and hangs it by Three’s ears. After examining her hoofwork, she nods, apparently satisfied.

“Long live the resistance against the traditional way of life, within respectable boundaries, of course!” she puts her helmet back on, and leaves along with the others back for their guard posts scattered over the tavern.

”How… why… what?” Two stutters out.

”Don’t ask.”

”But how…? He’s still a changeling… but with a helmet and a fake beard. I can see the wires...”

”Told you he was good at infiltrating.”

”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!” Two storms out of the tavern.

With a shrug, Three follows.

“That small lady was nice. Do you think she wears the fake beard because she’s cold down here?”

I have learned long time ago not to argue with fate, I just wish Scream was around to witness this. I have yet to see an alicorn smash her head through a wall.

“Nah, my guess is that there’s a female rights movement within the dwarven king’s part of Brauheim who aren’t activists like Crumble who works for a change by persuading others, but who are already pretending to be stallions in order to be able to do what they really want to. These mares, however, are still more traditionalist than those loyal to the queen, which is why they’re still here. I think Granite was onto something regarding the real queen. If she really promised everyone everything will be great… then she reminds me of what Chrysalis told us before the Canterlot invasion. Food for everyone forever, happiness, no more pain, and we were just supposed to die while breaking the barrier so that big changelings didn’t waste energy or have to share afterwards.”

“I understood some of those words.”

“See, I knew you were smart, Three,” I answer absentmindedly, thinking about our current predicament.

“Yay!”

Two, stomping all the way, leads us to a nearby vault where the two guards salute, give Three a shocked look, and then let us in without a word.

”They KNOW he’s not a dwarf!” complains Two.

”Yep.”

”AAAAAH, THIS MAKES NO SENSE!”

”Yep.”

”If I tried to pull that off, they’d incinerate me.”

”Almost certainly.”

”Nah,” Three shakes his head, ”Most ponies are nice, and with these ones being so small, all the nice is even more concentrated.”

Two points at the door, which the dwarf standing by it unlocks, and she carefully opens the door, ready for anything. She breathes out when the only thing greeting her inside the inner vault is an unremarkable changeling drone lying on a pile of gold coins.

The drone is… physically genderless, but from the shape of its mind I think it’s closer to a male. His mental link is easy to sense, and he opens his eyes as I connect to him, confused about who’s intruding into his mind. He doesn’t feel damaged like Three, he’s just a simple, normal drone. Soon, I sense a third mind inside his, and realize it’s Two examining the drone just like I am. She’s working on pure infiltrator instinct, but she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Just like me, but even worse. If she uses force where she shouldn’t she can cause damage.

”Stop it, Two. That’s an order.”

She withdraws, leaving me and the drone alone inside his head. His rank is…

...Six?

“Your name is Six,” I say. The drone’s eyes go wide, but he nods, starting to shake when he glances Two’s way, “Why are you here?”

“I can’t say,” he croaks, “I really can’t. It’s something in my head.”

I dig deeper into his mind, eventually finding what he’s talking about.

”Hmm… a mental yet physical shield of sorts? It’s not of his making,” I dig through Two’s memories of finding and chasing Six, ”If he was an infiltrator who could do that then you wouldn’t find him so easily. Someone sent him to spy on the king, as he said… not us, the previous king.”

”I noticed the barrier too,” says Two, ”I can break through it.”

”Don’t!” I raise my mental voice at her, ”You’ll break in, but not without breaking him. I don’t want that.”

Six tries to push himself away when I walk over to him, and put a hoof on his broken leg. Thankfully, for us it’s different than for ponies, because of the exoskeleton. His flesh underneath the crack is torn, but the chitin is the main problem, which nonetheless heals quickly if enough love is applied. With ease, I take control of him, and help guide him through the process of self-healing.

When I’m done he’s still in pain, but as he moves the afflicted hind leg back and forth with an incredulous expression, he whispers:

“You’re a changeling.”

“So, you still can’t tell me anything?”

He shakes his head, suddenly desperate as he realizes that I can have Two torture him, and then force him to heal himself over and over. Huh, now here's a Chrysalis thought if ever I had one.

“I can’t, I swear! The thing in my head helps me stay undetected by the dwarves but I have to report personally-” he clutches his head, “I don’t know where, I don’t know to whom. I mean, I know, but I can’t say.”

“Alright, calm down,” I lower my voice, “You do understand that I can’t let you leave when I don’t know if you’re an enemy.”

Six nods, and I pat his head.

“Then stay here and recover,” I send a spark of love his way, which refills him completely, reassuring me that he really is only the most basic drone. His capacity is waaaaaay lower than Three’s or even Two’s, “If you try to escape, I’ll have to send someone after you, and consider you a threat.”

Six whimpers.

As we leave the prison vault, Two asks:

“Orders, boss?”

Hmmm… to be completely honest, I’m not sure.

“Let’s finally have some rest. I’m barely keeping my eyes open. If I think of something, I’ll let you know.”

We split up with Three at the tavern’s entrance, and several moments later, I’m back upstairs in my royal bed. To my surprise, Two hops onto the bed too, stands up above me for a moment, seemingly thinking about something, before she just curls up by my side, letting out a soft sigh before mumbling to herself:

“...damn Scream, screwing with my head. Wait, no- NO screwing right now, at all, cool down...”

“Goodnight, Two,” I hug my little spoon.

“Night, boss.”

”Goodnight, Three.”

”Sleep tight, boss. You too, Two.”

The little buggy is snoring already. It’s been an exhausting two days.

***

It’s next morning, I’m sitting downstairs in the tavern, nursing a mug of the strongest liquor the bartender offers, which is strengthening my reputation as the ultimate drinking champion, and thinking about what to do next. I’ve always been better at reacting to situations rather than making moves of my own, but I assume now that things are a little more stable, I should think about at least the nearest future.

So, what’s the overall goal?

To survive. If possible, in a better shape than we ‘survived’ under Chrysalis.

Some details?

I still don’t know what happened to Eight. Granted, Six being around likely means she’s involved somehow, unless there’s someone else I don’t know about. Eight is my first guess, though, seeing that she obviously did use Crumble to make more changelings. However, believing in potential invisible allies is a risk I can’t take.

What to do? What to do?

”Three, any problems with the dwarves?”

Ever since we split up yesterday, Three’s been mapping the mining tunnels under Brauheim, and when I woke up today, I’ve had access to a map of an incredible tunnel network leading into depths I’ve never seen before. However, there’s a level which the dwarves haven’t let Three into, no matter how nicely he asked, and that’s the maintenance floor directly below Brauheim where supposedly all the supporting infrastructure is. Kinda exactly the place I’d like to examine, but I might leave exploring that to Two.

”No, boss. They look at me funny, but I think I’ve infiltrated the city successfully.”

Near the royal dais, as I call it now, Hammer suddenly slams her face against the table.

”I’ve got a new job for you. How are your wings?”

”Ready and buzzing, boss!”

”Then I want you to start examining the air vents. I can’t help feeling something bad is about to happen, and I want an escape route to the surface.”

”Alright, boss. Where do you want me to start?”

”A place the dwarves called the grand chasm,” I send him the location of the big bridge. Come to think of it, I don’t know what’s on the other side. I should ask someone, ”There are air vents in the ceiling which look similar to the halls of Brauheim. I think there’s more to those than ventilation. I need to know if there are places where we can access those without flying, and overall anything interesting really.”

”I’ll finish off this shaft then, and I’ll head up afterwards.”

Knowing now how vast the mining tunnels are, that could take Three hours. On the other hole, I don’t need it fast. Having a complete underground map in case of trouble will prove invaluable.

Still… overall goal, overall goal…

Finding or making a place where we don’t have to pretend to be someone else to survive. Being well fed. Not having to run or hide in fear of retribution.

But how? Ponies already proved that’s impossible. We didn’t seek to hurt anyone, yet we had to defend ourselves over and over until they won.

So, if surface is out of the question, what about Brauheim itself? Dwarves do have some experience with changelings. Their reaction to Three can’t just be his natural charm. Granite knew what I was, and the dark priests have device specifically for recognizing us. The last thing could be a result of some of Eight’s failed infiltrations, but I don’t think so, that’s too many precautions in case of a single changeling. I know it crossed my mind before, but… yes, the changelings who supposedly formed a hive up north and all died during the big split and betrayal the hive rulers showed me. That happened ages ago, but who’s to say they didn’t have contacts with old dwarves, or even those… Silversmiths as Scream called them? Could it be that Six doesn’t belong to Eight, but to some descendants of the old changelings?

Unlikely, just from the rank. No, this is all too hypothetical. Let’s go back to the option of making our own place here.

Which means I’ll have to reveal who I am at some point. For that to go… if not smoothly then at least acceptably, I’ll need to make a positive mark on the dwarves, and eliminate threats. Granted, even if I do that it doesn’t mean they won’t just try to fry me immediately, but it might give me a chance to speak.

And here’s the sticking point - I can’t make my dream come true by force. Chrysalis tried, and look how it turned out.

The chair across the table moves and creaks, as Steelback sits down.

“I come with a warning, ‘boss’,” says the brown minotaur, the focused stare of his teal eyes boring into me.

“Not one to beat around the bush, are you?” I take a sip of my drink. Having instant access to explosive mixture is definitely an excellent secret weapon giving me some semblance of safety, “What’s wrong?”

“I thought about it, and talked with a friend who knows a little about dwarven history. Your yesterday showdown with the dark priest was just the beginning. I’d watch your back if I were you, or you might end facing something you can’t drink under the table,” he says, deadly serious.

“You mean like an assassin or something?”

“Assassins, sudden revolution, mob with torches and pitchforks, or in this case axes and flamethrowers,” Steelback nods, “You see, the dark priests steer the dwarves from the depths of their enclave, and the only reason rulers don’t have to seek their official approval is that if the clergy disapproves of them… well, it’s not hard to disappear in a mining accident.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the warning,” I rub my chin, “Say, the dark priest was originally mad about the queen. How come she hasn’t disappeared yet then? And… come to think of it, you’re the Rift ambassador, do the dwarves let you move freely through the barricades and guard posts?”

“Not freely, but yes, they do,” he nods, “As for the real queen, I don’t know. My best guess is that the desire for a change she woke up in the dwarves is enough for dark priests to rethink any direct action,” he shrugs, “Or they already tried and failed. From what I found out during my briefing after I came back, she’s been ruling the bigger part of Brauheim for over a year, and she’s still solid in her position. I think the dark priests will be your problem because you’re the weaker target. If I were in their position, I’d get rid of you and install some puppet king who wouldn’t be too progressive. Afterwards I’d support the king’s efforts to retake entire Brauheim.”

“Sounds like you thought about it a lot. I don’t know whether to be happy you’re warning me, or worried even about you.”

“That’s just diplomacy in a nutshell,” Steelback shrugs, “If there isn’t anypony to talk to, you have to make somepony. Right now, I’m on your side, and considering that I owe you my life, I’ll resign if ever I’m instructed to threaten yours. I’m still a minotaur over a diplomat, I take my debts seriously. As I said, be careful about the dark priests, and the queen’s spies. Somepony is bound to start looking around once she hears about a second queen.”

Someone already has. Is there a connection? Possibly. No way to figure it out yet without irrevocably harming Six. Speaking of which, can I connect to him? Huh…?

Huuuuuh…

I CAN.

A quick peek through half-open eye reveals that Six is still lying on pile, sleeping. He doesn’t react at all to my intrusion, and nothing suggest he even noticed. The anti-detection shield works similar to how Three’s method works, it’s just much less delicate. Someone without much capability for mind tricks made this method up, which definitely adds a point to the Eight theory.

“Hey, big guy,” announces a cheery, female voice followed by another chair moving, “Queen.”

“Good morning, Crumble,” nods Steelback.

“Morning,” I greet the arriving dwarf as well, “Let me guess, more news about things that will eventually bite me in the ass?”

“Besides rumors of a changeling wearing a fake beard and one-of-a-kind istrium helmet walking around Brauheim?” Crumble raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry about that one. That’s Three, and he’s harmless. He likes stories, so if you want someone to talk to, and don’t mind explaining the longer words, he’s your ling.”

Crumble looks as if she’s really thinking about it. Terrifying in a way.

“I don’t mind at all now that I know he’s one of… yours, but do you think it’s wise to let him walk around like that? I mean, the beard is obviously fake. You can even see the wires.”

“Did you see anyone trying something?”

“Well, no,” she admits, “I think I saw him help an old lady haul a broken cart away, but still...”

“Then he’ll be fine,” I wave my hoof, “I mean, he got the beard from a mare pretending to be a stallion in the first place.”

“Ooooh...” Crumble smiles, “The iron roses. I can help you with them.”

“Do… I need help with them?”

“Which smoothly brings us to what I wanted to talk to you about,” Crumble crosses her forelegs on the table, “I saw a dark priest talking to miners down in my shaft yesterday, and what he said wasn’t too flattering.”

I look at Steelback who crosses his hands on his chest, smiling, then back at Crumble.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” I sigh, “but I thought a lot of dwarves wanted change.”

Crumble bites her lip.

“They do, but they want to remain dwarves, and being a dwarf is more than just being the right size and living your whole life underground. There are habits, rituals, connection to the safe darkness, things surface species don’t understand.”

I think I do, though. It’s the feeling of being at home, which I haven’t felt ever since I left the hive, it’s the instinct screaming at me that walls should be black, there should be cocoons on the ceiling, and goo crystals should be lining the walls, faintly illuminating the darkness. Maybe someday later.

Well, as I said before, force is out of the question. However, just like Granite supported me in return for armor decorations, let’s see if there’s something I can use to bribe dwarves with.

“Crumble, you know Brauheim, and you know what dwarves want. What can I promise to everyone that would make them support me instead of the dark priests?” I ask.

“Herein lies the problem, boss,” she circles her hoof on the table, “Different groups want different things, and things some groups want offend other groups. It’s up to you to decide what you’ll allow and what you won’t, and balance it against dark priests.”

An idea comes to mind.

“Maybe not necessarily.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I say that anyone can do whatever they want, they think I’m the same as the real queen, and dark priests will hate me as much as her, right?” both Steelback and Crumble nod, “Then how about I give the dwarves a chance to raise their concerns without fear of retribution, and then discuss them among themselves. That way they can possibly come to a compromise, and the dark priests won’t be able to rile an unrepresented group against me, right?”

“That is a very… optimistic view,” says Steelback carefully, “but it’s a good idea. Dark priests will hate it, you can be sure of that.”

“Then maybe we can get one to speak at the gathering-”

“Nope!” Crumble shakes her head resolutely, “Dwarves will be too scared to speak up if a dark priest is directly involved.”

I grin. Now, what if we simply make the dark priests show their cards?

“Crumble, can you think of dwarves representing certain groups with different ideas about life, and gather them here? I want Granite to be among them, and you too, of course. Find as many as you can. If this works out, we’ll get others soon. Oh yeah, and you too, Steelback, as the minotaur ambassador. I’m gonna need you to raise a trade offer that no dwarf in their right mind would ever accept.”

“I can do that,” the minotaur stares at me, as if trying to read the plan from my brain. Joke’s on him, though, there IS no complete plan!

“What if you can’t avoid the fireworks?” she asks, shooting a worried glance over her shoulder at Two.

I shrug.

“Last time, Two made a dark priest do a backflip in the air. If worst comes to worst, we'll see if she can top that.”

9: More trouble, again.

View Online

This is going to suck, almost certainly.

I ordered the biggest table in the tavern to be cleared out, and I’m sitting in the middle, Crumble and Steelback to the left of me, Granite and Two to the right. The dwarf was curious about my plan, not eager to ‘wait and see’ as I told him, but considering that as soon as things get started, I’ll be mostly improvising, I couldn’t tell him anything specific.

I realize I overshot completely when only five dwarves sit down across the table before Crumble announces:

“That’s everypony, queen. We can get more dwarves later, but these ponies are who I could find on such short notice.”

Looking around, I notice a solitary black cowl hidden in the sea of dwarves sitting at other tables and minding their own business. Two spent the morning practicing her seductive disguise while visiting the market and chatting other dwarves up on where she could find some dark priest, upon which she informed him about my meeting with influential dwarven figures.

You see, I’m absolutely certain that Crumble was right when she said that if I invited the clergy to the table, dwarves would be afraid to openly discuss their ideas for change. HOWEVER, in order to make them feel as if they’re on my side instead of giving them the option to back out of any deal, I decided that they had to be heard, come to a mutually accepted conclusion, and then have the spying dark priest hear the consensus. That way, the clergy would know it’s them against the will of the ponies, and the ‘conspirators’ would know they were heard by both common dwarves and the clergy, and that they should keep their word because they won’t be able to deny what they said.

Well, let’s leave the ideal world, and see how things bite me in the ass. And no, I’m still not turning into a pessimist. This is the healthy approach.

“Greetings, everypony,” I raise my voice, making everyone at the table look at me, “I suppose most of you have already heard about me. My name is Brick, the new queen of our small part of the city. I wanted to meet dwarves with some ideas on social change which would be universally approved. Originally, I had a chat with Crumble here about the formal dress rules, and came to the conclusion that I don’t see a reason for not letting mares wear full plate armors, but I’d like to hear objections before I decide to allow such a big change, because I myself don’t see a reason why not,” I raise my hoof, “And ‘tradition’ is not a reason. I want pros and cons of such step, ways it could threaten or benefit us. Everyone can share their concerns freely, and then we’ll move on to your ideas. So, point one - mares and plate armors. Go!”

A mare with red mane and grey coat raises her hoof, clearing her throat.

“Ehm, my name is Iron Rose-”

I see…

Well done, Crumble. Off to a good start, one is using a fake name.

“-and I can attest to mares being overall weaker than stallions. However, our limit is far above standard plate mails. Remember the cave-in of 97C?” she turns her head, making everyone look down. It must have been some big tragedy, “Everypony was enlisted to help dig out survivors, no matter gender, and we all worked days and nights without rest until we rebuilt the connecting halls. I believe mares shouldn’t be the first to manually grind diamonds, but you don’t need that much strength to wear heavier armor for extended periods.”

Two would disagree with that, but I see the point.

“Valid point. Objections?” I ask.

Two hooves rise up in response, one belonging to Granite, and one to an older, black, grey-maned dwarf. I nod to the unknown dwarf first. Granite knows I’m genuine about trying to help, and I don’t need to persuade him… much.

“Hard Hat, miner foreman of sector 13D,” he introduces himself, and I smile as if I know what he’s talking about, “With all due respect to miss Rose here, even mares working in basic mines don’t achieve results similar to stallions, and-”

“That’s bullshit!” scowls Crumble, “Before I got kidnapped, I was the miner of the month twice in one year.”

“Only because your chainmail distracted other miners from work!” Hard Hat stands up.

“I’ll distract you with my axe!” Crumble does the same, hammering her hoof on the table.

I clear my throat, which stops them both.

“Are you saying, mister Hard Hat, that if Crumble wore full armor, she would distract stallions in the shaft less, which would result in better mining yield?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying!” he grins at Crumble, before his head catches up with his mouth, and the grin disappears completely, “No! I mean- I mean-”

Iron Rose winks at me, tapping her hoof against the table to gain attention.

“I do believe that without such a… distraction the stallions will be focusing on the shaft that matters. Besides, Brauheim standard mining statistics show that there’s no recognizable difference between average yields of shafts based on the amount of stallions and mares.”

“What about deep core mining then?” barks Hard Hat, “The heat, the even heavier suits, motor drills. Mares can’t do that!”

“Even those who passed the certification?” asks Crumble in low and very dangerous tone.

“The certification tests are too general and don’t prepare you for the reality of the volcanic depths,” objects Hard Hat further.

I stop my hoof on the table.

“Trying to solve everything at once won’t get us anywhere. How about this? Full armors for mares whenever. In the mines, they won’t cause stallions’ imagination to run amok, and here in the city it doesn’t really matter-” more tapping interrupts me, this time from Granite, “-yes?”

“While I have my objections, from purely practical perspective of the military, which is what the queen wants to hear from me, mares wearing full armors inside Brauheim will only increase our odds in case of a surprise attack by the old queen. However, if I may suggest, some separation of the male and female armors wouldn’t go amiss to avoid confusion.”

“You mean like not having a beard?” I say quietly, raising an eyebrow. What a sly bastard! But, I suppose it’s time for my end of the bargain,“So, what about some soft decorations? Let’s say, gold rims on pauldrons or someplace visible for stallions, and silver on mares? That, or gemstones. You can work out the details among ourselves.”

Hard Hat is still grinding his teeth, but Granite’s support of the cause obviously means a lot to him.

“I suppose we can… try, only the standard mining, though,” says the dwarf, “However, if the yield averages for the next quarter visibly go down, we’ll rescind this ruling, at least the mining part. The military will have to assess our combat readiness on their own,” he nods towards Granite.

Granite and Iron Rose done. I nod.

“Is there any issue you’d like to raise, Hard Hat?” I ask.

“Yes, there is,” he looks at Granite again, this time nervously, “Queen, we need to use our rare minerals to improve our mining equipment rather than sink them all into new armors and weapons. They’re lying in the storage rooms anyway, gathering dust. No offense.”

Granite crosses his forelegs on his chest, frowning, but catches my glance.

“The old king’s precautions against the queen’s attack aren’t enough to defend ourselves anyway,” Granite stops Hard Hat already opening his mouth by a raised hoof, “However, I admit that problem doesn’t stem from lack of equipment, but a lack of forces. Allowing mares to use heavy armors could help our defenses, and I am willing to part with reasonable amount of minerals for new weapons. Let’s say, thirty-five percent for new weapons and armor, thirty-five percent for new mining equipment, thirty percent for storage and trade?”

“That still won’t be enough to replace the breaking deep core mining equipment and parts, but it will lessen the wait times considerably,” says Hard Hat.

“So how about fifty-thirty-twenty, mining, military, storage and trade?” I offer.

“That would still cover your business deals with Rift,” Steelback nods, “As a representative, I see no problem with that.”

“It would leave us with far too little raw mineral gain, though,” adds Granite.

“Is it a bearable temporary solution until we resume contact with the old queen?” I ask, “If a full-scale battle stops being a relevant option, we won’t need to stockpile minerals.”

General nodding and humming tells me that I’ve got Hard Hat on my side now as well.

“Good. What’s next on the agenda?”

Another mare sitting at the table raises her hoof.

“If I may, the stallions who harvest crops and grow food would rather do so in lighter armor, as the full mails and heavy greaves aren’t the best equipment for that.”

“I don’t mind. Any obj-”

“NEVER!” the previously silent but definitely fuming dark priests roars, rising from the crowd, “YOU MAY LET MARES PRETEND THEY ARE STALLIONS, BUT YOU SHALL NEVER MAKE OUR STALLIONS INTO MARES!”

As the dwarf strides towards our table, worried expressions spread everywhere around. Two pushes her chair back, about to intercept the furious dwarf, bloodthirsty grin spreading on her face.

”Wait. This is a fight the dwarves need to have among themselves. Just be ready to kick some major ass in case everything goes south.”

”I’ll get my diplomatic spiky horseshoes ready, boss.”

I give the dark priest a courteous nod.

“We’re here to talk like reasonable dwarves, which of course includes listening to you. So, why would the occasional stallion wearing chainmail while farming be a problem? It does require more delicate manipulation than swinging a pickaxe, right? And don’t say it’s tra-”

“IT’S TRADITIONAL! STALLIONS ARE POWERFUL AND TOUGH THANKS TO THE LIFE INSIDE HEAVY ARMOR. MARES CAN DO THE GARDENING AND OTHER SIMPLE THINGS THEY CAN HANDLE WHILE STALLIONS SHOULD BE DESIGNING MACHINES, FIGHTING, AND LEADING!”

Great job pissing at least half of this table off. Come to think of it, despite Hard Hat looking confident in the priest’s presence, the other stallions don’t look too happy.

“Granite,” I ask, “Is there a basic army training to keep stallions and mares fit for service?”

“Reserves have weekly drills, and it’s up to them to stay in shape to pass them.”

“Would it be possible to set up a, let’s say, monthly basic physical evaluation every stallion has to go through so that what the dark priest is worried about doesn’t happen?”

“Monthly… no, too many ponies. Quarter year? Maybe.”

“So, if a dwarf passes the basic physical, they can do whatever they want for the next quarter a year until the next one. Maybe they can get a certificate or something?”

“We can work out the technical details later, but the idea is doable.”

“Well, dark priest?” I turn to the stumped bald dwarf, who nonetheless looks as if he wants to bite my head off on the spot, “Satisfied?”

“No- NO,” his voice wavers for a second, “MARES MINING ALONGSIDE STALLIONS IS ALSO NONSENSE, AS IT WOULD TEMPT THE MINERS-”

“We already discussed that, and it’s not a mare’s fault a stallion can’t keep his imagination in check,” I interrupt the annoying dwarf, “Plus, as we arranged, they’d wear the plate armors too, so no problem.”

“YOU ARE MAKING MARES FROM STALLIONS AND STALLIONS FROM MARES! THAT GOES AGAINST EVERYTHING OUR FOREFATHERS FOUGHT THE DARKNESS FOR-”

“Oh shove it!” says Iron Rose, silencing absolutely everyone with a remark so rude as to be unthinkable, “The new queen listened to our problems and found solutions which satisfy even the claims you presented, dark priest, yet you keep blathering about traditional roles, traditional beliefs, everything without reason other than ‘we did it wrong for so long that we think it is right’! Either present arguments, or keep your mouth shut!”

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT?!” bellows the dwarf, “TRUE DWARVES, SEIZE HER AND THROW HER INTO THE DEPTHS!”

Iron Rose quickly looks around, fear replacing her rudeness immediately. To my growing hope, neither the onlookers nor the other dwarves sitting at the table move, some just shift uncomfortably.

I nudge Steelback. Time for his part.

“Ehm,” the minotaur ambassador clears his throat, “I do not wish to interfere with internal matters of Brauheim, but I’m here to propose a new mining offer to the new queen. A trade of our several sets of anti-magic armor crafted from the materials brought forth by the dark prophet in exchange for mining access to deep core shafts including instrium veins, and help building a motorized drill.”

I wish I knew what any of that meant, but the horrified look of Crumble and Hard Hat coupled with Granite’s soft head shake and the fresh disgust from the dark priest prove beyond all doubt that Steelback’s offer is unthinkable.

“Do you think I’m stupid, ambassador?” I narrow my eyes at him, “I may be for progress, but I am still a dwarf, and I will never put the well-being and prosperity of my kind in second place to personal enrichment. The deep secrets belong to us dwarves, and you surface dwellers are just guests here. Is that a clear enough answer?”

“I will tell by superiors of your reply,” nods Steelback, much to the collective relieved sigh of everyone around.

”Two, that’s your cue.”

Hammer walks over to the dark priest, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Any more concerns to raise, dark priest?”

Through her eyes, I see right into the dwarf’s, and I see disgust, hatred, but most importantly - a flicker of fear. The dwarves are on my side, because I offered realistic change, and showed enough force against the minotaurs. I know the priest feels power slipping away from him, and he’s not used to it. He’s clearly used to his word being the law.

“YOUR FOOLISHNESS WILL BRING RUIN TO OUR RACE. WE SHALL NOT ALLOW IT!” he turns around, striding out of the tavern before Two breaks another door with another priest.

That’s a rather big exaggeration. I mean, what could few armor changes and decorations really change?

I realize the whole place is deathly silent, and everyone is looking at me. For a moment, I ponder if Scream has something to say. A situation like this feels exactly like the right time for her to force me to do something even more inflammatory, but she’s nowhere to be seen or felt. Maybe she’s busy elsewhere?

“Aaanyway, where were we?” I sit back down as Hammer passes by Crumble who pats her head proudly, much to her dismay and a lot of nose scrunching, making few nearby dwarves chuckle.

A dwarven mare at the table raises her hoof.

“My name is Geode, and I’d like to ask if the stallion service is okay for foal care too. We’ve got a lot of orphans due to the recent skirmishes and mining accidents and-”

Taking a deep breath, I get ready to enact small enough change that would help without making everyone mad at me. Politics, politics, politics.

On the other hole, I managed to prevent One and Eight from tearing each other’s head off. I can do this.

Suddenly, I feel a faint echo of utter horror from somewhere, which cuts through Geode’s speech, taking all my concentration not to start looking around in panic.

Three? No. Two? She’s sitting right there, brows furrowed.

Six?!

I can’t connect to him through the chaos and fear.

”Two, can you feel it?”

”Yes. What’s going on? Where is it coming from?”

”It’s Six. Get to the prison fast. I can’t just end the meeting and run there. Someone’s bound to follow us, and I don’t want any more changeling rumors than Three must already be causing.”

”On it!”

Without a word, Hammer stands up, and walks out of the tavern, immediately burning love to gallop forward as soon as the door closes behind her. I let the dwarves squabble about details of Geode’s problem, only listening in case someone wants something from me, as I look out of Two’s eyes.

Within few seconds, she’s at the prison vault. Unguarded prison vault.

In the body of Hammer, Two doesn’t need to expend too much love to open the vault door on her own, but it’s still a chore, and when she’s inside, she immediately sees two bleeding and battered dwarves on the floor by a ripped off inner door. A frightened squeak from inside the “cell” makes Two jump forward and witness the scene.

Six is hanging by his neck, being held by claws of a bigger changeling while the changeling’s other foreleg flashes with green fire, growing curved saw blades.

It’s a female warrior, quite easy to identify from the thicker and spikier chitin while still not being as bulky as a male one would be. She doesn’t possess any mane or additional belly plating, and I can’t sense too much love from her, but even if she got a drop on the two guards outside, she’s still dangerous.

“Nononononono, Five, why? You’re here, you can get me out-” pleads Six, squirming in Five’s grip.

“You failed us, which means you are a liability, Six. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to-”

Six kicks Five’s neck, making her saw-bladed slash which would otherwise gut him only leave a bleeding scar on the side of his barrel.

Two quietly grabs an axe, then throws it at Five. Unfortunately, her lack of experience makes it just bounce off of the warrior’s chitin, finally alerting her to Two’s presence.

”Two, be careful. It’s a warrior, and I’m sure she’s more experienced than you.”

”Good,” growls Two, charging at Five, ”I can’t grow without a proper challenge.”

”You’re an infiltrator, Two.”

”I am ME, I am THE BEST!”

Five drops Six as fully armored Hammer rams into her and then into the wall. From the corner of Two’s eye, I see Six scramble to all fours and immediately dart out of the cell.

”Six, help Two!” I try talking to him, but the blind panic coming from him blocks me from either controlling him or proper communication.

”No no no, I can’t! Five will kill us both if I stay!” he yelps.

This, however, means that Six has nowhere specific to run and return to.

”Three, I’ve got a scared drone on the run,” I send him the rough location of the escaped prisoner, ”He’s like a panicked animal, try to find him!”

”Already running, boss!” is Three’s immediate reply.

Two flies out of the cell, joining the dwarves on the floor, dazed after Five’s powerful kick. Before she can get up, Five’s already on her, raising her hoof enveloped in green fire which I recognize as increasing weight and hardness. So she can do in-combat spot transformations, which is pretty nasty.

The blow dents Two’s helmet, and she blacks out for a breath. However, when she gasps in the next second, her survival instinct kicks in, making her flick her heavy boot away, immediately grow a spike from the frog of her hind leg, and kick upwards, impaling Five, and knocking her off of herself. The spike disappears immediately afterwards, but Two’s head spins when she gets up too quickly.

Bleeding Five’s foreleg smashes into the side of Two’s head, making her fly off so hard she bounces off of the floor. Five’s on her instantly, this time about to stomp her head to paste.

Two turns back into herself, shrinking as Five squishes the plate helmet. With a quick flick of her hoof, Two slashes the belly straps of the armor, and emerges from it in all her tiny chitinous beauty, jumping upwards and uppercutting Five so hard she smashes into the ceiling, wings bending out of shape.

“You’re not flying anywhere,” Two’s forelegs shift again, growing spikes on the surface of her chitin, making them into two jagged clubs.

Five blinks as she stands up, clearly surprised that there’s another changeling here. However, as soon as Two punches her, she grabs Two’s foreleg, and twists, making the smaller infiltrator spin in the air, before swinging her by her hoof against the floor so hard that shards of chitin fly off. Without letting go, she swings Two’s body in an arc again, making her kiss the floor on the other side.

Two spits out broken teeth, her shaking and fractured legs barely able to support her weight now. Five cocks her foreleg backwards-

The nook of a double-headed axe grabs it through a hole, and one of the woken up dwarven guards heaves, making Five lose balance and drop on the floor.

“Hammers!” croaks Two, “I want... that bitch... alive!”

Her horn flares up with green light, sending a bolt of energy at Five already back up, making her stumble. The dwarven guard grabs a hammer from his belt, spins it with his hoof in the air by a strap on its handle, then lobs it with trained precision straight at surprised Five’s face.

*Crunch!*

Chitin, teeth, and blood splatter everywhere as Five drops on her back, her muzzle flattened by the throw. When the dwarf guard approaches, she suddenly kicks upwards, causing him to lose balance and keel over, green sparks flicker through her carapace, making it soft and light as well as quickly healing leg damage. Five lets out something between groan and a whimper as agony shoots through her entire body from the forced reconstruction, she jumps over the recovering guard, past the second guard who darts in front of Two for protection, and into the streets much faster than the dwarves can move.

“We have to...” Two’s forelegs give out, and she drops on her knees as both guards look at her, “...get her… before she… finds him...” the dwarves don’t move. She looks down, finally realizing that for half the battle she wasn’t in disguise, “I can… explain… bzz bzz… and stuff...”

One guard grabs Two over her feeble and barely conscious resistance with surprising gentleness, and carries her off to an unused internal vault, meaning a different cell.

“Lock us inside, then inform the queen,” he nods to the other guard, “I’ll stay with… her.”

He lowers Two onto a pile of gold, and sits by her side as he watches the door shut close. She tries to get up, but every movement sends spikes of agony through her broken body.

“Don’t move,” says the dwarf in a soothing voice, “I don’t intend to harm you, Hammer.”

“You know… who I… am?”

“You aren’t the changeling who attacked us, and neither was the one pretending to be a dwarf in the mines.”

“Three…?”

“Yes, that’s what I heard his ‘name’ was.”

“Why aren’t you… trying to catch… him…?”

“Why would we? He didn’t harm anypony. In fact, I myself saw him play hide and seek with some foals. He was pretty bad at it due to his glowing legs.”

“But… we are… changelings…?”

The dwarf chuckles.

“Granted, I haven’t seen one of you in my lifetime before you brought the small one here, but I’m not a dwarf who would complain about somepony saving my ass.”

Two relaxes, barely conscious at this point.

”I’m sorry, boss. I failed to stop her, I showed myself to the dwarves, and the drone escaped.”

”You’re alive, Two. That’s all that counts.”

A dwarven guard rushes towards our meeting in the royal tavern, leaning down to my ear and whispering:

“We caught a changeling, queen, and it’s not the one with the fake beard.”

Well… it was good while it lasted. Time to climb back up to the vents.

”Boss, BOSS!” yells Three as I follow the dwarves into the prison, ”I found Six!”

”This fast, Three? How the hole did you do it?”

Three’s crawling up a fresh, unshored mine shaft filled with jagged rocks, following a faint scent of changeling blood, and overwhelming feeling of dread.

”Well, boss, Six is a drone, right? I was on my way back when you called me, and I asked the dwarves where the changeling went. Some were suspicious and said that one was just standing in front of them, but when I described Six, they got the idea. I lost him in the mines, but then I asked myself - Three, where would you run off to if you had nowhere to go and the bad guys were after you? A hole! But a smart drone like Six wouldn’t just pick any hole. Everyone can look for a hole that goes down, but one that goes up… now that’s clever!”

I… I don’t know if that makes sense, if Three just rolled a hundred on luck, or if all the bad stuff he suffered in his past life is being balanced out now, but when he pushes himself through a tight spot into a small pocket of empty space, part of the surrounding blackness is trembling, and has tiny white fangs as well as glowing teal eyes.

“Hi, Six!” says Three cheerfully, runes on his body lighting the narrow space up, “Boss sent me to find you.”

“N-No!” sobs Six, “Everyone wants to kill me… the dwarves, Five, the scary small infiltrator. I didn’t do anything to anyone. I-”

Three pulls Six into a tight hug despite the drone’s resistance, and rubs his muzzle against Six.

“Awww, don’t worry, everything will be okay. Doctor Three is here, and prescribes ten milligrams of nuzzlin!”

He holds Six until his trembling, sobbing, and whimpering subside. There’s no one, nothing, no horror, and no darkness that can resist the relaxing power of the everlasting ball of love surrounding Three.

10: Warriors are scary, boss is scarier.

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“Crumble, come with us, will you?” I stand up, much to the questioning looks of others around the table, “I apologize for having to leave so abruptly, but there’s something that requires my immediate attention. Granite, you’re a smart dwarf. Have a quick break, and then keep the discussion going, and tell me the reasonable suggestions when I come back. Everypony, I want to do this more often, so if you hear any ideas that aren’t complete nonsense which could make life in Brauheim better, don’t hesitate to present them to me in the future.”

“Open or concealed carry of more than five axes or hammers at once, both for mares and stallions-” Iron Rose raises her voice.

“Military-related business. Granite,” I just nod the dwarf’s way, and follow the guard outside with Crumble in tow.

As I follow the dwarves to the “prison”, the jitters in my stomach only grow stronger.

What to do? What to do? The good parts - Two is alive, despite the heavy wounds she sustained, and Six is okay, being escorted back here by Three. The bad parts - I can’t think of anything that would stop me from having to reveal myself to the dwarves, Five will report to whomever is behind the attack that other changelings are involved, and she or someone else will be back for Six. The thing is, as much as I suspect Eight is involved, a fact which a powerful warrior on our backs supports, she wouldn’t send someone to kill a basically innocent drone. The block inside Six’ mind is enough to stop him from talking already.

Can I prevent any of the bad things? Dwarves won’t catch Five at this point, so that’s a no go. And speaking of the dwarves…

Only the two prison guards know about Two. I could just bite them and try to fumble with their heads, although I don’t really know how. Damn my lack of instincts and information in the hive mind. I can’t even use Two’s newborn instincts, because she doesn’t have much mental capabilities either right now. Forcing things too much would more likely leave me with two braindead dwarves and questions from Granite about what happened to his guards. He’s the one dwarf I can’t afford to make an enemy of at the moment.

I can’t believe I’m thinking this. What would Chrysalis do?

She would tell everyone to shut up and do what they’re told or it’s the grinder for them.

Well… I AM the king, or queen.

Hmmm…

”Scream?”

Silence. On the other hole, that might be a good thing, taking into account her disposition for getting me in trouble.

The vault door opens, and the guard accompanying Two stands up, saluting.

“Queen, we discovered this-”

“BY MURADIN’S BEARD!” calls out Crumble as she peeks out from behind me, pushing inside immediately, “My poor little filly!”

I shake my head when the dwarf guard tries to stop the mare as she darts forward and cradles Two’s broken body.

“Ughh...” Two groans at the not exactly careful treatment, but relaxes as Crumble’s love starts flowing into her. The worst of the open cracks in her chitin seal up quickly, leaving deep scars still covered by dried up green goop. However, I can sense that this time healing won’t be so easy. Two might be filling up with love, but she’s too young to be physically developed. Her body can’t use all the love Crumble is giving her at the moment. If someone like One got access to this amount of raw love, she could likely fully regenerate herself from just a hoof within seconds, but Two will need rest to recuperate, no way around it. Her body has to naturally convert the love into healing.

“What happened?” I ask, just to keep up appearances. Both guards salute again.

“We were on watch, I was by the main entrance and Topaz there by the small changeling’s cell. Out of nowhere, I saw a bigger changeling knock Topaz out, and I went to help. I severely underestimated how fast the changeling was, and after a quick fight it got behind me, and then when I woke up, the wounded one you see here was fighting the big one and getting crushed-”

“...I almost got her...” groans Two defensively. The reporting dwarf shoots her a quick glance, and continues.

“-getting crushed, so Topaz and I helped. Without the element of surprise, the big changeling had to escape. Unfortunately, we didn’t see what happened with the imprisoned one. I apologize, queen, and am willing to bear any consequences of my failure.”

“Me too,” adds Topaz.

How to play this out?

“No word to anypony about this,” I look at the dwarves firmly, “I will inform Granite myself, and we’ll think about what to do next. Let Crumble stay here with… Two,” I narrow my eyes at the guards who give me surprised looks, realizing what I just said, “She is free to go and stay as she pleases. If you see any other changeling than Two or Three, detain them immediately. Keep your mouths shut, and you’re off the hook for this failure. Blab to someone, and Granite will hear about your performance as well as MY opinion on it. Clear?”

“Yes, your Majesty!” they salute.

Maybe there IS something to Chrysalis’ approach to ruling.

Striding as meaningfully as I can, I leave the prison and return to the royal tavern where the dwarven representatives are back at the table, keeping the lively discussion going.

“Alright, alright, I concede,” grumbles Granite, “Armor decorations won’t be gender specific, but there need to be some distinction between military members more than just the amount of spikes on our pauldrons which civilians aren’t allowed to use.”

I sit down next to Steelback, ignoring his raised eyebrow. Maybe there’s a happy medium between going full Chrysalis and letting everyone do what they want.

I’ve got power, and I need to figure out how to use it.

***

As the meeting drags on and everyone argues about tiny details no one in their right mind should bother with, I find myself looking out of Three’s eyes. He and Six are slowly leaving the unbelievably vast network of mine tunnels, curiously enough, still unspotted. It must be that time of day when every dwarf is busy with their work, leaving the outer streets next to empty. As their hoofsteps echo through the halls, Six whimpers again, saying:

“I tried to run. The big changeling disguised as a dwarf who helped me heal myself said that if I ran, he’d have to send someone after me, that I’ll be an enemy.”

“Aww, don’t worry about that,” Three smiles at him, “Boss sent me to find you, and I won’t do anything bad to you. It’s a big, scary world, and us drones have to stand together. The boss used to be a drone too, so he understands even now that he’s a real big boss.”

“To be honest, I’m less afraid of you and your ‘boss’ than of Five. She’s a hunter, she won’t stop until her mission is finished, and right now her mission is to get rid of me so that I can’t talk in case you somehow break the block in my head.”

“What’s with the block thing anyway?” asks Three.

“It’s something that hides me from the dwarf alarms, but I can’t communicate with… with...” his eyes glaze over, “I can’t say. It also stops me from saying, or even thinking about it. I just have to get… somewhere… after my mission... and then I’ll be contacted by...” Six stops, rubbing his temples and sighing, “I can’t even connect to anyone, I’m alone. Wait, no. Someone got into my head before. Your boss? I think.”

“Dunno, probably,” Three shrugs, “What were you doing anyway?”

“Oh, I just had to walk around, see how’s the situation in the dwarven king’s part of Brauheim. If they’re preparing for war or something, what’s the security like and so on. To be honest, I’m pretty sure the reason I was sent here first and not Five or Seven was because I’m kinda… expendable.”

“Don’t say that,” Three rubs his muzzle against Six’ neck, a gesture made much less effective thanks to his helmet, but the thought was there, “Boss cares about all changelings, and just wants us to be happy.”

Suddenly, Six freezes, staring forward.

“I… don’t think I’ll be there to see it...” he whispers. Three turns his head. There’s a solitary dwarf mare heading towards the two who isn’t wearing any sort of armor. Even Three’s drone nose is enough to pick on the scent of venom quickly, and I don’t need any more signs of trouble to immediately react.

I lean to the dwarf sitting next to me, lowering my voice.

“Granite, I must leave again. Royal business,” I smile at everyone, “You’re doing a good job here, but I don’t think we have to sort everything out in one day. How about we leave something for, say, tomorrow?”

With the first surprised nods at my sudden need to go away, I quickly stride out of the tavern, pour love into my hooves, and bolt.

”Three-”

”I’m on the way already,” Two interrupts me. She’s exhausted, still in pain, but she’s been buzzing towards Three as soon as the two drones noticed disguised Five.

”You’re in no shape to fight, Two!”

”Good, that means neither is Five.”

No, it doesn’t! Too cocky, Scream was right. That’s stupid. I SHOULD force her to stop, but she’s faster than I am, and she’s a minute, minute and a half ahead.

Three lunges at Five charging at Six who kicks him away mid-jump.

I hate to say it, but they’ll need all the help they can get before I arrive. And from how quickly Five moves around, punching panicking Six, likely even afterwards.

”Be careful, Two. I can see that as far as technique goes, Five is a really good warrior.”

”Yeah, stop punching things!” Scream suddenly appears by my side, teleporting forward to keep up with my love-enhanced gallop, ”Anyway, what did I miss?” she blinks out for a moment, ”Heeeey, why is smart bug’s chitin in pieces?”

”A changeling called Five appeared, hunting Six down. Two stopped her, revealed who she is to the dwarves, got really badly hurt, Six ran off, Three found him, and now Five found the two again. Currently, they’re trying to run away from her and towards us.”

I ping a location on our hive mind map - a small plaza which Two is approaching. It should be empty-ish, and there should be enough space to surround Five if we need to. Despite Six being scared out of his mind, I feel a faint ‘okay’ reply from him as well.

”Oooh, I gotta see that!” she summons a bag of popcorn, and vanishes.

”Damn it, Scream! Why don’t you ever help when we need you to?”

”Pff, how boring would that be?” she just laughs, nowhere to be seen, ”Owww, I almost felt that one. Poor drone.”

Five just punched Six so hard his already fractured chitin cracked, green droplets flying through the air. If there’s a good thing about it, it’s that she sent him the right way.

Yep, we’ll definitely need to surround her.

Three jumps on Five from behind, clamping his legs around her hind leg like a weight. That slows Five down as she tries to kick him off. Unsuccessful, she shoots fleeing Six a glance before dropping her dwarven disguise, her transformation back into the bigger changeling forcing Three to let go. With the added weight out of the way, she quickly catches up to Six, grabs him by his hind leg, and pulls.

“Aaaaah!” Six twists in her grip, managing to turn around and cross his forelegs in front of him just in time slow down a stab of Five’s claws which would otherwise impale him to the floor. Instead, she ‘only’ knocks the wind out of him, cocking her other other foreleg to finish the job.

A burning green bullet blazes through the air, leaving a trail behind it, and creating small shockwave as it hits Five straight in the snout, sending her tumbling away from Six.

Two, as the projectile reveals itself to be, shakes her head, getting off the ground near Five now bleeding from all over her face again.

“Youuuu...” the warrior growls.

“Got some unfinished bus-” Two’s eyes bulge as her world explodes in agony, Five’s clenched fist rammed straight into her neck.

Damn it! Now’s not the time for badass one-liners, Two.

“It wasn’t my job to kill you before,” growls Five, “but you’re getting annoying, always standing between me and my target.”

Two can’t speak, completely out of breath and barely seeing through the haze of new pain.

Five grabs Two by the neck and her foreleg, and twists, ripping the leg off with ease. Shock takes Two completely, making her tremble all over as she bleeds freely from her shoulder.

Scream, sitting nearby on a deck chair and drinking something from a glass through a bendy straw, sighs:

”You tell her again and again, yet she never learns. You DON’T ram your head into the wall, if your head is your most precious resource.”

”HELP HER, PLEASE!”

”Nope. She caused this one out of her sheer stupidity. Remember how I said that someone would have to beat it out of her? Yeah, that.”

”SHE’LL DIE!”

”A lesson she won’t forget until the end of her life, I’d say,” Scream waves her hoof dismissively.

Five swats Three away as he ineffectively punches her barrel from the side, pulling now delirious Two up by her neck, and squeezing. Her chitin can’t handle the pressure of Five’s claws anymore, giving in with sickening crunch after crunch.

”Scream, if you don’t help her, I will never do anything you want me to again, no matter what it is.”

”Are you forgetting I can turn chatterbug’s body off again, hmm?”

”Then I will keep him safe inside the hive mind, and I will make him a proper changeling body as soon as I shove an egg into a mare or something, but I will NEVER listen to a word you say!”

”Gee, you’re getting really annoying, you know that?” she frowns.

Two’s eyes glow bright green in tune with her horn, and I feel her love storage ignite. Lightning crackles from the barely conscious changeling, grounding through Five who lets go, dropping on the floor and smoldering. Two’s love reserves are almost gone with that single spell, and despite her involuntary shaking, Five is already trying to get back up, racking repeated failed attempts.

”Meh, forgot you bugs aren’t too conductive. Should have gone with acid instead. Anyway, she can’t handle anything more I could try, so it’s up to her. Oopsie...” Scream adds as Two crawls over to her separated leg, and groans in pain when she presses it against her stump, green fire re-attaching it, albeit more as a stiff prosthesis than a functional limb.

Three jumps on Five’s back this time, as she’s having trouble getting up. Fire rushes through his body, making him many times heavier and tougher, although completely immobile as he locks all four his legs around Five’s barrel. To my horror, Five eventually pushes up with a groan, walking towards Two, limping slightly due to the added weight but recovering quickly from Scream’s spell cast through Two.

”Stop!”

One. Two. Three. Four.

Two bought herself four seconds with that mental command, barely enough to get one more failed attempt at standing up in. As she crashes back on the floor, blacking out for a moment, Six rushes between her and Five.

“Look, Five,” he hangs his head low, “I give up. They were just trying to help me, and I only watched them fight while cowering like the coward I am. Even Three is doing his best, and he’s a drone like me. Let them go. I won’t run or resist anymore.”

“They know too much,” growls Five.

”Three, get off of Five, will you?”

”Okay, boss!” he shapeshifts back from the changeling brick he is, jumpin down from Five who looks around. Her eyes go wide-

-as she braces against my impact, forelegs crossed in front of her to block by accelerated punch.

Alright, so I’m not much a fighter either, but I’m massively pissed off, mostly at Scream and Two, but it still counts.

She spins around, leading with a wide, powerful swing which could easily knock the head clean off of any of my changelings, but compared to Eight she’s so slow, and I spent a lot of time inside both Eight’s mind and body.

A burning emerald blade of pure love bursts from my foreleg as I slash at Five, chopping her approaching leg clean off. In one fluid motion, I land back on said foreleg, the love-fueled weapon disappearing and reforming from my other forehoof with which I pierce Five’s chest through with next to no resistance.

Finally, whatever willpower was pushing Five forward gives out, and the warrior drops on the floor, motionless and bleeding.

“Holy hole, boss, where did you learn THAT?!” Three’s staring at me, eyes and mouth open as if he was looking at a new coloring book just for him. Six is staring at me too, but with much less awe and drastically more fear, as he sees me in my real form for the first time.

”That was quite the light show,” Scream claps her hooves together, ”Now let’s get out and see what the dwarves think about all the green blood around.”

A quick peek into the mind of Five now accessible to me proves she’s completely out of it, exhausted and genuinely too hurt to continue.

“Three, Six,” the drones salute as I look at them, shapeshifting back to queen Brick, “Take Five. Carefully. We can’t leave her here or the dwarves will ask questions. And one of you grab her leg too.”

They nod and start sorting out the logistics of carrying a bigger changeling as a pair while I put trembling Two on my back. I think Three’s faint, persistent love aura will keep Five alive without healing her much.

“...sorry..” she croaks through her broken muzzle and teeth, “...I lost...”

“I’m really mad at you right now, Two,” despite my words, I carefully start channeling love into her. She’s in such bad shape she can barely process it, “I’m horrified at what could have happened to you, and I think I’ll start crying if I stop being so pissed off.”

Right now, I need to show strength, I need to think clearly to get us home. We’ll hug it out when we’re safe.

***

To my surprise and a neverending stream of thanks to the great hole in the sky, we return back to the prison undisturbed, although definitely not unnoticed. Rumors about more and more changelings are sure to be spreading in the next days, but I’ll have to deal with that problem when it returns to me.

Topaz and the other guard are still standing on watch, although their helmets tilt when they see all the changelings return in absolutely horrendous shape.

“AAAAH!” screams Two out of nowhere, “DON’T COME CLOSER! DON’T TOUCH ME!” a quick mental prod shows that she’s asleep, and I gently put the thrashing changeling on the floor before she falls, “GOT YOU! GOT YOU, YOU BRUTE! DON’T FUCKING MOVE OR I’LL RIP ALL YOUR LEGS OFF!” blood starts pouring from her devastated muzzle and throat.

Crumble trots out of the cell, clearly still annoyed at Two’s earlier rush to help Three and Six. Her expression turns to grimace of pure horror as she sees me cradling the moaning and wailing changeling against my barrel. Two weakly bites my chest over and over, but with her fangs knocked out by Five she barely scratches me.

“What-” Crumble opens her mouth.

“Later,” I say.

“But my daught-” it’s obvious how much Crumble wants to be in my place, hugging Two.

“MY changeling,” I bare my teeth at her. My dwarven mouth is far less scary than if I was a changeling, but she gets the message.

Two slowly, very slowly calms down under both my physical and mental touch.

”Ouch, that’s gonna leave a mental scar she deserves,” Scream observes out pitiful state, ”Hopefully. Physical one too.”

I want to bark out that she should shove that up her glorious jiggly ass, but even in my carefully contained anger, I know she’s right. Two did this to herself. She ran off to prove herself, not to help Three or Six, and she paid for it. Scream did help as well. Now it not time to be emotional, as I said before.

When Two goes quiet and tears stop flowing from her eyes, I pat her head one final time and nod to Crumble who gently takes her back with her into the cell.

“Topaz, and...” I realize I didn’t ask the second dwarf guard his name.

“Siegbrau, queen,” he salutes.

“Alright, Topaz and Siegbrau, I’ll ask Granite to station the two of you here for a little longer, because you know what to expect at this point. The changeling who attacked you is Five,” I point to Three and Six who have been left unnoticed due to Two’s traumatic nightmare, “I took care of her. She’s in no shape to do anything. I’m not even sure she will survive, but I would like her to, if only for questioning. However, in case I’m wrong, I need you to be split up like before and guard her and Six. You know what we’re dealing with-”

“Which is something we’d also like to know,” I hear Granite’s voice. The dwarf guards salute as he enters.

Unfortunately, he’s not alone. Three and Six drop Five, then Six also drops Five’s leg from his mouth, and starts shaking. A group of six dwarf guards quickly follow Granite, cutting off the escape path, and Iron Rose pushes through behind them as well as Hard Hat, Geode, and the last two dwarves whom Crumble brought to the table.

The worst part comes when the final, bald and cloaked figure enters, glaring at me with burning scorn. Did everyone lose their balls and side with the dark priest in the end?

“Looks like we’ve got an infestation on our hooves,” says the dark priest victoriously, “Destroy them!”

The cold, artificial rage I’ve been trying hard to maintain suddenly feels a lot more real and close. Infestation. As if we were nothing but annoying vermin.

Three was so happy to be back and alive. Six was so happy to still be alive. Two’s a little ball of pride with potential to be the next queen.

And this is still how they see us.

Infestation.

“Say that word again, dwarf,” I growl, dropping my disguise and towering above the suddenly much smaller dwarves as I bare my fangs, “I dare you!”

Just give me an excuse.

11: Underground species together.

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The massive vault door slams shut as a pair of Granite’s guards obey a single nod from the dwarf. No matter how furious I am at the dark priest, I can’t stress how much this is NOT a “I’m not locked here with you, you’re locked in here with me” situation. The amount of flamethrowers aimed my way is a good clue, though.

“Good job informing me, Topaz, Siegbrau,” Granite smiles, “Now, how about we-”

“BURN THE CREATURES!” the dark priest’s voice booms through the vault.

“If it proves necessary,” nods Granite, looking directly at me, “First, however, I would like to know how a changeling got here into Brauheim, and ultimately to this… unfortunate position as our new queen. To ascertain our security regarding their hive.”

“This is heresy!” the priest’s voice wavers.

“Oh shut up, you hateful little monster!” I bark out, “You’re just like the paladins!” I return Granite’s strangely calm stare, “And you want to know about my hive? You’re looking at them. The one with the helmet is Three, you know him, or about him. The small one who is unconscious with Crumble in that cell after saving your guards and my other drone is Two. Speak of the horrified little devil hiding behind me, that’s Six. And the final one, the currently dying warrior who broke into this prison, left Topaz and Siegbrau bruised on the floor, and tried to kill Six is Five. Don’t worry about her, she’s armless. Well, legless. Where she came from, I have no idea. And that’s all of us that I know of. Why is there only so few of us? Because we’re changelings, because everyone wants us dead for what we are, not who we are. I don’t know how I got here, but I DO remember paladins finding us where we built a home without attacking anyone, and killing everyone they could find.”

“You are parasites who devour the essence of what ponies are!” argues the dark priest, “You are a threat to all life with no right to exist.”

I ignore him this time, no matter how much I want to squeeze that bald, bearded head until his eyes shoot out.

“I woke up here in a cocoon in one of your vaults several days ago. The first thing I got through was your guards trying to fry me. When I got away, I found Steelback and Crumble put into artificial sleep and freed them. Some changeling HAD been using them at one point as food,” I carefully leave out mass breeding in case of Crumble, “but I don’t know when and for how long.”

“Over a year!” comes out of Crumble’s cell. When I look at Steelback and everyone follows my gaze, he simply nods with a grim expression, “I’ve been missing for over a year, but with all due respect, if anypony touches Two, I’ll kick them in the nuts.”

“So there you go. Two disguised as Brick drank your king to death fair and square, having heard about your dueling tradition, and I took her place. You know the rest,” I look at the group of dwarves I invited to the table in order to help them facilitate the change they wanted, “I don’t want to keep hiding. I want a place where we can live as changelings without immediately being hated. That’s why I wanted to make my mark on Brauheim before I would have to reveal who I was. You were the attempt, the change for the better which Five’s attack marred,” I frown, “So, what now? I doubt I’ll be able to stop all of you if you try something, but I will sure as hole take as many of you down with me as I can.”

”Three, Six, if they move, get Two and run. I’ll buy you some time.”

”Where, boss?” asks Three, ”There is no other exit from here.”

”I know, I just wanted to say something heroic.”

”If it helps, I really felt sad and inspired at the same time.”

Granite rubs his beard before asking:

“Are you stallion or a mare?”

“What?” I blink and lean backwards, completely taken aback by the question.

“What do you think you are doing, loremaster?!” the dark priest scowls at Granite.

“I believe my question was simple,” repeats the military dwarf, “Are you a stallion or a mare?”

“With us, it doesn’t really matter, but I’m a stallion by your standards.”

The flamethrower nozzles go down a little, and the corner of Granite’s mouth hidden behind his bushy beard curls up.

“The way I see it, our tradition is clear. The winner of the royal duel is… well, not this changeling, but I believe they sorted things out with each other. Plus, he’s a stallion,” other dwarves nod, only Geode and Iron Rose frown, “No matter what, ‘Brick’ here is our ‘queen’. Isn’t that so, dark priest?”

“IT is a changeling!” objects the bald dwarf, “IT doesn’t belong into Brauheim.”

“On the contrary,” Granite’s grin grows into a winning smile, “I distinctly remember the legend of crown prince Rocksworth, don’t you? You’re big on precedent, aren’t you?”

The dark priest growls, and after a heavy moment he turns around.

“Open the door, guards,” he orders. The nearest dwarves shoot a glance Granite’s way, who nods.

“Wait,” I take a step forward. What emboldens me is that no dwarves even move their weapons anymore, “Why are you so set on keeping things the same? Even something as arbitrary as mare and stallion apparel. It really can’t change that much, and it’s clear ponies would appreciate it.”

The dark priest turns his head.

“In times when a corruption of morals and body rises, the depths will open their door, releasing a flood beyond stopping, and both underworld and overworld will fall,” his voice loses a little bit of the ominous booming, “We shall not let it happen. The fate of dwarfdom and indeed the whole world rests on our shoulders. Your concerns about menial things are irrelevant in face of the ultimate threat, bug,” with that, he leaves, and the dwarves close the door behind him again.

Silence grows longer until Granite, his seemingly good mood completely gone after the priest’s words, speaks up:

“While I don’t mean to disrespect a prophecy of our forefathers, I doubt its connection to current events. I, for one, say that based on the precedent of crown prince Rocksworth, we can allow queen Brick’s rule to continue.”

Uhhh, what? Really, just like that? After a doomsday prophecy or whatever that was?

Iron Rose flicks a strand of mane from her face.

“It does look like there is change we can enact… and carefully monitor to avoid any widespread… corruption of dwarven morals. What do you say? We can oversee the good social proposals, and curb the bad ones without relying strictly on tradition,” she looks at the other dwarves, ”And that way, we’ll be able to keep an eye on queen Brick.”

Granite, you sly bastard. You know how much they all want the change, and with me being hidden and still in charge, you and they can have the power, and if things go south, you can still sell me out to the dark priests, saying I mind-controlled you or something. Iron Rose either ate it hook, line, and sinker, or knows exactly what’s going on like you do.

On the other hole, no one’s going to be roasting Two, Six, or Three today.

I call this a victory.

In a burst of green fire, I shapeshift into Brick.

“How about you who are here form a council to help rule Brauheim, let’s say to balance out the queen or king in case they do something too crazy,” I offer, “That way, dwarves will have someone whose job it would be to discuss helpful proposals with others, and present them for acceptance. Plus, the dark priests would know that a truly accepted solution is the will of the dwarves, and not some crazy solitary lunatic’s idea.”

They’re thinking about it. Are we in the clear?

Now they’re nodding to each other. Yeah, we’re in the clear.

“Long live queen Brick, I’d say,” Granite gives me a smug smile, “Oh, and guards? Nothing that happened here leaves this vault, understood?”

The guards salute.

“Granite?” I ask, “If changelings aren’t too big of a problem, can we find a better place for Two to recover than here in prison?”

“Of course,” he nods, “What about the other one… Five, was it?”

“Hole no! Leave her here, and I’ll instruct Topaz and Siegbrau here on how to detain a changeling properly. Later, we’ll have a little chat about the prince Rocksworth thing, Granite.”

That’s what you get for snitching on me, dirtbags.

***

With the meeting over, I’m back in my suite, relaxing. In some ways, I miss being hidden away while only affecting the world through my changelings. The thing is, that if my group ever grows into a real hive, I won’t be able to simply walk out and do stuff. Well, I will, because I’ll be the king, but it won’t be a smart idea.

That’s once again a problem for future me. Right now, I’m drained from the rollercoaster of action and emotions, and I need to shut down. The weird part is that I’m not exactly hungry. This new body seems really efficient as far as love consumption goes. My head just hurts, that’s all.

”Heya, boss!” Three’s cheerful voice rings through the hive mind, ”We helped the dwarves carry Two into a place called the hospital. There’s a lot of hurt dwarves there, and all the armors are painted white so you can be double sure they know what to do with ponies in Two’s shape.”

How does white dye help heali-? Nevermind.

”Well done, Three. Any problems with the dwarves? I’m about to take a nap, but there’s an issue, I’ll talk to Crumble.”

”Nope. Two’s sleeping,” an image of Three looking at Two lying on her side in a white bed with a string of green drool coming from her mouth cracked open flickers through my mind. To my surprise, there’s a clump of flowers on her bedside table already. Crumble, maybe? ”but someone else would like to talk to you. Come on, don’t be scared. I told you boss is great.”

The moment of curiosity is solved when in the internal darkness of the hive mind I sense a familiar link, and see Six sitting next to Three.

”Umm, your Majesty,” the new drone hesitates as he realizes how painfully small he is compared to me, ”I’d like to join you if you don’t mind. I… I still can’t talk about where I’m from, and I won’t be able to as long as the mental block lasts. I know it’s temporary, and I don’t know its limits, sorry. But I know my way around Brauheim, even the real queen’s part, and I have a disguise in which I can freely travel there.”

On instinct, I hide my next words from Six, and shield Three’s answer too. Don’t ask me how, because I don’t really know.

”Three, do you think he’s trustworthy? I mean, one of his hive or group tried to kill Two and you when you got in the way.”

”Well, Five DID try to kill Six first.”

”That could have been a ruse, although I doubt it, really. Don’t forget that Six was sent to king’s part of Brauheim to spy on us.”

”Spy on the king, you mean.”

Am I getting paranoid? Noooo...

”Yes, that’s what I mean.”

”Look, boss, I can see that Six is scared out of his mind. And he’s a drone like us with nowhere to go. Can we keep him?”

Don’t give me the puppy eyes! Wait no, the puppies are giving Three eyes at this point.

”Hey, you already have a pet, even though Eight isn’t here. And you didn’t clean her litter box once.”

We stare at each other, then start snickering. In the end I sigh, and add:

”Alright, but keep an eye on Six, and be on your guard. First, there’s no telling that Five was the only one who would go after him. Second, it could still be a trap. And third, we’ll need to start gathering love at this point, I think.”

”I’ll go get my hugging mitts!”

Dropping the protection around our channel of communication, I look straight at Six.

”Welcome to our little group, Six. I’ve got a little assignment for you. Three will keep you company for now, just so that dwarves get used to you. They don’t seem to mind him at all. And call me boss or king, none of the your Whateverness business. Waste of time, really.”

”Of course, king. What’s the assignment?”

”Stay undisguised.”

”Wh-what do you m-mean?”

”As I said, my goal is to make sure changelings can walk outside undisguised without being hated on sight. Two harmless drones could help the dwarves get used to us. Other than that, see what’s here to do, really. Find something you like. I’ll call you when I need something.”

“Yes, king,” Six salutes.

”Come, on,” Three pokes Six, ”I’ve got just the thing to help you relax after a morning like this.”

With that, I finally unplug. Three’s right - relaxing after a morning like this is the way to go.

***

Three leads Six back to the outer borders of Brauheim, and while the city streets are mostly empty, the mining shafts and tunnels are loud with clanking of equipment, chatting of working dwarves, and heavy breathing of the resting ones.

“Good morning, Three,” a dwarf foreman waves at the duo climbing through a less populated jagged shaft filled with emerald deposits, then he tilts his head, “Hey, there’s more of you now?”

“That’s Six, mister Coal Pressure. He’s good at digging and wants to help too.”

The dwarf examines obviously worried Six from all sides, then shrugs.

“Well, who am I to argue?”

”Why isn’t he complaining?” asks Six.

”I’ve been here before,” Three reassures him, ”Dwarves don’t use emeralds for much, they just trade them away to ponies, so this mine is understaffed. Plus, it’s dark and green here, like back home!”

”I was born here, Three.”

”Don’t worry, you’ll like it. Harden your hooves, and let’s get digging.”

Three’s right, and after minutes of otherwise quiet breaking of rocks and examining the shaft’s surroundings, Six calms down. Digging is a drone instinct, being underground in the dark is a drone instinct, occasional green gems are like the glowing cocoons and love gems back in the hive. No matter that Six was born here, he’s a changeling. Eventually, Three starts humming a tune.

“All drones of the hive rejoice. Sing, sing, sing with me-”
“-raise your hooves, and raise your voice. Dig, dig, dig with me-”
“-down and down here in the dark, on long journey we do embark-”
“-pallies, dwarves, and assassins. Have no fear, boss always wins-”
“-dum dee dum dee dum dee dum dee dum!”

Three’s glowing hoof vigorously chews away a chunk of stone as he raises his voice.

“Born in the hive, starving from the lack of love-”
“-tiny and soft, squishy like a puff of fluff-”
“-now shiny and black, got holes in my leg-”
“-bad mom is gone, so we are free-”
“-dwarves and drones can sing with me!”

The words flow through the hive mind to Six who can’t help but join the chorus in disbelief, albeit with much less enthusiasm than Three, equalizing it with his own amount of shock.

“I am a drone, and I’m digging a hole!”
“Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole!”
“You are a dwarf, and you’re digging a hole!”
“Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!”

Complete silence spreads through the shaft as the two drones stop singing. No dwarves are digging anymore, and everyone is looking at them.

“What?” Three asks everyone, “That’s all I’ve got, but I’m working on the second part. Did you like it?”

“Aaaand we’re dead,” mumbles Six quietly to himself.

Then a random dwarf starts whistling the tune, and Six can only facehoof.

“How? Just how?”

“It’s a good song,” the dwarf just shrugs, raising his pickaxe, “Let’s go, lads! We’ve got a shaft to work.”

Darkness clears. There’s no confusion and no nightmares. Two opens her eyes, focused and with clear knowledge that she failed completely, and that the King’s intervention is the only reason she’s still here and alive, instead of smeared all over the unremarkable plaza where she “fought” Five. A quick flick through the hive mind reveals what happened after she got crushed by Five. It’s uplifting, incredibly lucky, and Two knows none of the good parts are her doing, only the screw-up.

She’s a little hungry, stiff all over, and pain shoots through her previously severed foreleg from hoof to neck as she sits up.

“It was my job to bring him love, to get him in control, and to protect him. Instead, I’m here. Three didn’t screw up his disguise nor his position, I did. Three wasn’t a drain on his remaining love, my ass ripped to shreds was,” Two’s frown turns straight up grim, “I did worse than a brain-damaged drone. Well, what can you expect from a rejected egg that someone forgot inside a mare supposed to starve in a hole deep underground, right?”

”Ahhh, good morning, sunshine!” Scream sitting on the edge of Two’s bed doesn’t improve her mood in the slightest.

”Great… you. I guess I deserve being laughed at. Go ahead,” Two doesn’t bother switching to mental speech not to alert whomever was outside her white room that she’s awake but she still shapeshifts her hooves to something soft and quiet before slipping down from the bed.

”Nah,” Scream waves her hoof, ”I’m more of the ‘told you so’ kind of pony. Speaking of which, I told you you were cocky, or something along those lines. If you want to be smart bug again, you’ll have to earn it.”

For some reason this feels like a kick in the already unsteady stomach. Not that Scream is saying it, but that she’s obviously right.

“Yeah, you can call me useless bug,” suddenly, something more pressing kicks down Two’s wall of depression. She glares at the bedside table with some withered flowers stuck in a jar, and a stack of iron ingots underneath it, “What the hole is this?”

For some reason, all the items feel infused with faint love which Two promptly absorbs. It doesn’t help matters other than her feeling fuller. No accelerated regeneration or anything.

”Those are ‘get well’ ingots,” Scream whistles, ”Plus a bouquet of flowers. I wonder who would go outside- ah, the minotaur, probably.”

“Get well? Are they for healing or…?”

”Nah, just dwarves wishing you’d get better soon. Ponies use paper for these, but I gotta hand it to the dwarves, metal lasts longer, although these are a bitch to carry home afterwards, I bet.”

Two grabs one, and with a grunt puts it on the table, completely dissatisfied with how weak she feels.

“I hope you get better soon, miss living armor...” Two reads an inscription carved into the metal, “What. The. Actual. Hole.”

The five others are similar.

“When you’re back on your hooves, let’s get drunk under the table again,” Two furrows her brows, “Again?”

”Wellll, boss bug thought that when the dwarf general what’shisname told his guards to shut up about what happened with assassin bug… hmmm, that doesn’t sound right. Failed assassin bug?”

“Scream, back to the point, please?” Two with her head turned completely upwards finds it hard to face down the alicorn many times her size, but she tries.

”Right, nicknames later. And stop looking at me like that, it’s so adorable I might just throw up and it would end all over you. Anyway, the dwarves obviously blabbed, and rumors about boss bug being the queen and you being the one who alcoholically destroyed the entire royal tavern including the old king spread. Funny part is that in general those small coal buckets are about as okay living under a male changeling than under an unmarried dwarven queen.”

“So everyone now knows who the boss is and who I am.”

”I wouldn’t say knows, but definitely gossips about.”

Two flips one small ingot around, revealing more writing.

“Your skin is shinier than steel under torchlight, tougher than chainmail, and as flexible. You hold liquor better than oak barrel, and I can’t stop thinking about your short mane, like a carpet red with blood of our weeping enemies. I hang out every evening in 62C bar, and I’d be honored to get to know you better.”

”And they say romance is dead.”

“How, the actual fuck, long was I fucking out?!” Two’s depression burns away when faced with this… this… nonsense, replaced with confusion, some curiosity, and for no apparent reason - anger.

”Four days, give or take? I’m not too big on timekeeping. Prophetic sight does that to an alicorn. And watch that mouth, young lady, or I’ll fill it with something. Speaking of which, how’s your love level or whatever hunger meter you’ve got built in?”

“You know, for a patron of changelings, you don’t know much about us.”

”I care only about the important stuff - survival of your species as a whole, and your amusement value. You know how hard is to balance those two when they so often go against one another?”

With a growing headache having nothing to do with her physical health, Two puts the ingot down, and examines the room filled with small, beeping machinery. Unfortunately, advanced technology is a closed recording device to her.

For now.

“I’m fine as far as love goes.”

”Then why do you look like a window that met a hoofball up close?”

Two frowns, looking at her barrel still covered in cracks, and her stiff foreleg holding together half due to chitin and half due to an amount of bandages which would make a mummy give up and find another job.

“Because I don’t know how to heal myself quickly. As with most things, there’s no information on it inside the hive mind - boss doesn’t know, Three doesn’t know, Six doesn’t know, no one here fu- knows anything!” Two scowls.

”Now now, one of my surprisingly wise friends said that being angry just means admitting you’re powerless to do something, otherwise you’d just change what’s pissing you off. Too bad he’s about to get exploded in a month or two. Aaanyway, isn’t it your job to fix that? You infiltrators are the one supposed to gather intelligence, and you’re the only one boss bug has got.”

Two apprehensively looks at the door leading out of the room, and freezes.

“I- I don’t know. It’s my fault dwarves now know who we are. I can’t do anything an infiltrator is supposed to do. I can’t even fight in case something goes wrong. I thought that when I fooled the dwarves and got boss to power, the hard part was over, and then I couldn’t deal with a drone and a warrior without being discovered and becoming a love draining cripple.”

”From a cocky little idiot riiiight to the other end of the spectrum. One of the reasons why I never really wanted to care about foals of my own, really. Now, mini bug, getting boss bug his cushy job on your first day was pretty awesome, even I admit that, but you can’t just coast on that one thing. Do you know why it worked so well while everything else failed?”

Two shakes her head, still hesitant to leave the room.

”Well, you won’t earn the smart bug nickname back like this. Let me give you a clue - I don’t call you punch bug.”

Two facehoofs.

“I didn’t plan my approach out, I just rushed into things and tried to fight like a hot-blooded minotaur.”

”To be frank, you didn’t plan the first part out either… much, but it was still more than trying to ram your face into a changeling specifically born to ram hooves through faces. So, mini bug, how about we start over on the smart part?”

“The problem is that I don’t know any techniques or methods that would have made me win against Five and prevented all this. That’s why I did what I did.”

”Well, did it cross your mind that you weren’t supposed to win?”

“What? No! If I was good enough, I would have come up with something. I-”

”You faced someone older and obviously far more experienced and DISCIPLINED than you, and you barely got out of it alive. You gotta learn, you gotta practice, you gotta WORK HARD to get to the point where Five will be cowering under you. You don’t simply become better by deciding that you now are better, it’s going to take pain and effort,” Scream chuckles, ”Heh, you got the pain part down to the p, now get to the effort.”

“I can’t just… make up a way to… I don’t even know what I’m trying to think about.”

”Alright, that made even my head hurt. You’ve got the combat experience - how not to do it, you know what you did wrong - everything, and now combine those into something. Learning what’s dumb and useless is learning too.”

“I am dumb and useless!” Two’s voice cracks as she glares at Scream with fresh tears in her eyes.

”Not really. I’ve known some really dumb ponies over the eons, and you’re not even in the top billion. So, what did we learn just now?” Scream raises her eyebrow, ”That self-pity doesn’t help anything, and that auntie Scream might get bored and stop helping you if you keep it up. See, another lesson at what NOT to do. You’re doing great! Eventually, you’ll get to the what to DO part, given a century here and there.”

Two withers under the only partially heartless lecture, but it does get the message across. Two isn’t in this alone, as long as she… can… do it… alone…

...or something like that.

“Okay, first things first,” she takes a deep breath, “I need love, the boss needs love, Three… probably needs love, and Six needs love.”

”Wohoo, finally. Let’s go bang some dwarves!” the alicorn disappears.

Closing and opening her eyes again, accompanied with one more long breath, Two opens the door.

After being immediately stopped by a nurse and checked by the doctors apparently instructed to let her do whatever she wanted, Two spends her trip through Brauheim by gradually recalling all the little tips Scream gave her before - mane, overall shape, expression, and applies them to her changeling body including her own red mane. The bar at 62C goes silent as she enters, more than one jaw dropping at the sight of her.

An extremely happy albeit apprehensive dwarf slowly approaches her as she raises her visibly and deeply scarred foreleg to shake his.

“My name is Living Armor. Pleased to meet you,” Two smiles.

“I believe we’ve met already, but I love the new name, mane, and, umm, everything,” the dwarf bows, laughing nervously, “I’m Topaz.”

12: Boss of the lings: Fellowship of the ling

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“Oh, ehm, well-” Topaz leans back in his chair, quickly downing the entirety of his mug. The evening has been going well, and suddenly way too well to believe, “By going to my place you mean, uhh, my place? On the first date?”

”Okay, I knew dwarves were prudish, but this is ridiculous. He looks around eighty, healthy, and apparently single because he sent you the get well iron bar. Well, another hurdle for you to jump, it seems,” Scream comments while sitting on the table and spreading her legs at the oblivious dwarf, much to Two’s annoyance.

“Yes,” Two flicks her head to get rid of a strand of mane from her eyes, “that’s exactly what I mean, and everything that’s supposed to go with it.”

”Look, mini bug, there’s being forward, and then there’s being you. What do you think you’re doing?”

”What the boss had to do - being honest.”

”You’re a changeling! That approach hasn’t worked for your kind for like over a EVERRRR.”

”Then I’ll make it work.”

”Look, I thought Five sorted your ego by punching you repeatedly in the schnoz. You’re an infiltrator! Honesty isn’t part of the job, kinda exactly the opposite.”

”This isn’t about ego. This is about what the boss wants.”

Scream facehoofs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Topaz stops stuttering, leaving Two amused at how she took the soldier completely by surprise, “I’m happy- no, honored, but on the first date?”

”Physical contact is always good, right?” Two asks the now sulking alicorn.

”Generally, yes. Although it may freak some types out.”

Two leans over the table, softly booping Topaz.

“We are different, and we want different things. If you’re looking for someone who would spend their life with you, that won’t be me, Topaz. I want someone maybe for this evening, maybe more often, but let me be brutally honest, despite knowing it might screw me over-”

”Maybe you should reiterate that you’re like a week old. Most cultures have opinions on that kind of thing,” Scream jumps off of the table, because Two’s head is partly inside her.

”Not THAT kind of honest.”

“I’m a little lost here. What’s going on?” asks Topaz.

Two takes a deep breath.

“Do you know what we eat?”

“Uhh, grass, meat? Wait, no. I recall something about essence.”

“We eat love.”

“How does that work?” the dwarf furrows his brows.

“It’s like energy everyone makes when they, well, love someone else. Or when they get intimate.”

”Technically, the second part is lust, and as far as I recall, you changelings react in an amusingly frothy way to it.”

”Umm, what do you mean?”

”You’ll see. As long as you don’t go dragging dwarves into dark cellars afterwards, you’ll be okay-ish.”

”You’re not helping anything by scaring me.”

”On the contrary, I’m making sure you don’t get taken by surprise by your own body. Whether or not you’re able to win a fair fight against your instincts, now THAT is up to you, and will be my fun, especially if you fail to handle it.”

“But I heard you drank the entire royal tavern under the table,” Topaz objects, lost further and further in the metaphysics of love.

“I did feel super bloated afterwards, and spent a lot of time throwing up, hoping it won’t be literally explosive,” Two shrugs, “Anyway, we’re here, we’ve been talking for hours, I feel I can trust you, and there’s only one decision left to make. Do you spend the night alone, and do I spend it alone and hungry, or not?”

Topaz hesitates, bites his lip, then asks:

“Is biting involved?”

‘Living Armor’ smiles, lowering her eyelids, and feeling Scream trying to move things along through her as she whispers from unresisting changeling’s mouth:

“Only if you want it.”

***

”-UGGGHH, ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING!”

Groggy, I open my eyes. Everything was going fine, I wasn’t even having a nightmare, and suddenly I realized some furious muttering is waking me up. Come on, didn’t I do enough today? Can’t I get my sleep? Just a little shuteye, that’s all I want. Peeking from under the blanket, I see Scream pacing back and forth in the bedroom of my suite.

“No, not really. I was trying to sleep after few days of smoothing things out and worrying sick about Two, Six’s possible betrayal, and Five’s potential escape, all while trying to make sure the supporting council doesn’t deem me a threat to their city.”

I call the group of dwarves who are helping me steer things through change the supporting council - Granite, Iron Rose, Hard Hat, Geode, Black Soil, and Hard Reset, each representing a relevant section of the city’s population.

Scream jumps on me, pointing her foreleg in my face.

”YOU must do something about this!”

“Do I want to know about what? Seriously, is it even something I can do anything about?”

”Mini bug is BORING IN BED!”

“Patients recovering after having their chitin broken… everywhere, really, usually are.”

”No, she’s been out of the hospital since this evening, but that’s not important-”

“Not impo-?!”

”Not. Important. She’s finished banging that guard dwarf of yours, and I couldn’t even bear watching it! SHE. WAS. BORING.”

“Uhh, while I somewhat understand the implications of such thing for a changeling, I’m inclined to ask - do you ever question your priorities?”

”My priorities are honed to perfection by eons of life. Anyway, I’m not the problem, mini bug is the problem!”

“Okay, okay, stop grumbling. First, did you put Two up to having sex with Topaz or Siegbrau or whichever dwarf you’re talking about?”

”Topaz, and yes.”

No shame, seriously.

“Were they both disappointed by it? I mean, Two has no experience, same goes for Three and Six, so she has nothing to reach for in our hive mind, and if she tried the things Eight and One did to me, Topaz would need his own guards, a lot of pills, and likely a good psychiatrist. That, or a clean memory wipe.”

”I was disappointed by it! Who cares what the screaming and begging dwarf’s opinion was! Oh yes, and she definitely tried some stuff from your experience. Mares don’t do certain things on the first date if they want a second one. The dwarf passed out halfway through out of exhaustion and sensory overload, not that it stopped mini bug. Heheh, I’m kinda proud of her for that. That’s NOT THE POINT! She’s like a machine, just squeezing every last drop out of him.”

“Is that… a bad thing?” I’m still having trouble comprehending Scream’s insanity- I mean life experience.

”Well duh! She used every instinct and every even remote memory of yours to perfectly and precisely satisfy her partner to squeeze every bit of love and lust out of him.”

“Still not getting the issue here.”

”She’s not going with the flow, working her way around the power dynamic, no passion, nothing. She’s way too practical about it! Like a… like a… milking machine to a cow. She’s not even doing it for her own pleasure, which is the worst part. She just wants to feed you, and that makes it your fault.”

Uhh, how?

“You know, I’m sure all this makes sense to you somehow, Scream, but isn’t this your responsibility? I mean, I really can’t tell Two not to do things this way if she’s already managed to find her own way to feed properly, not just from eating scraps like before. If you don’t like how Two sleeps with dwarves, isn’t it your, I don’t know, job as the alicorn of Lust to teach her?”

”SHE DOESN’T LISTEN TO MEEEEE!”

Heheh, smart little cookie.

“Well, I’m not going to force her to obey you, that wouldn’t be fair. But I had a changeling before - Four, who had the hive’s number One, the top infiltrator, teach her, and while they disagreed on good and morality, they learned to work together. Shouldn’t you be the top of the top… lust experts? Surely you can find a way to make it work without resulting to blackmail, and in that even teach Two how to manipulate others and use her head instead of her hooves in and out of battle.”

Scream narrows her eyes, then cracks her neck.

”I will make mini bug into a passionate sex goddess, or my name isn’t Ecstatic Scream!” she disappears.

Hole yeah, I’m getting better at this ruling thing.

”Two, honey?” I softly touch the mental link now practically buzzing with energy.

”Yes, boss?”

”I’m glad you’re okay.”

”Thank you, boss. I’ll do my best not to fail you again, I promise.”

”No rushing head first into danger?”

”Now, boss, how would I grow without a challenge? Of course I will rush in head first, I just need to keep using my head instead of switching to my hooves on reflex when I’m already in danger. They don’t know what’s good for me.”

”That makes me a little scared, but I believe you’re smart enough to have learned from the last incident. Anyway, Scream’s going to be pestering you again, and I believe she can be a very useful source of advice, just don’t do anything evil. I don’t think she’s got any morals, and I want you to be better than that. If in doubt, just ask ‘What wouldn’t Three do?’.”

”I’ll wear a bracelet not to forget, boss.”

”So, how’s lust?”

”I feel like I can take on the whole world!”

”Don’t overdo it, and I can’t stress this enough,” I share the memories of dying changelings foaming at their mouths after we got them from Canterlot prison, ”Pure lust is a drug that makes you strong, and then drags you down, useful when you need a burst of power. Love is love, focus on that. The proper way to do it is to mix those two somehow, but I don’t know how to do that effectively, One used to.”

Two feels taken aback by the visions, and nods.

”I… I didn’t know that… I will keep that in mind. I do have an idea on using the lust I gained. It might be just a little… evil, but it won’t endanger us with the dwarves.”

”Two...”

”Boss, I love you more than anything, and I know you trust me, but there are things you can’t help me with, and I need to work with what primitive tools I’ve got. I won’t fail you… no, I will do my best not to fail you, and if I do fail you, I’ll get my ass up and fix it.”

”Nothing ‘too’ evil, you said?”

”Only a little evil, maybe a dash of bad with a sprinkle of villainous.”

”Remember, if you ever catch yourself laughing like this,” I recall pretty much any instance of One’s laughter, or Scream’s laughter really, ”Stop and look at your bracelet.”

”Will do, boss. Good night.”

”Good night, Two.”

***

“Roll over!”

Three obediently drops on his back while Six only tilts his head, staring at frowning Two who says:

“I told you the point was NOT to do what I say!”

Three rolls around, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“This feels so gooood...”

“Wait, really?” Six raises an eyebrow, then plops on the ground too, rolling from side to side, “Wow! I can just feel all the tension from my back flowing away.”

Two facehoofs, the crack echoing through the main hall of the prison vault.

“Yeah, try it too, Two,” says grinning Three.

“No.”

“Alright, alright,” Three jumps back up, and walks behind Two, then digs his hooves into her back, and starts circling them around.

“Hey, stop that! We’ve got important business to- uuhhhnnnghhh...” Two’s eyelids droop as a relieved sigh leaves her mouth, the massage quickly melting all tension away.

Two gives up instantly. If you can’t beat them...

Unspecified amount of time later, Two snaps out of her warm trance, and shakes her head.

“A-hem!” Six and Three rolling on their backs still and again respectively sit up in response, “Well done on discovering this… technique, both of you. Mostly Three, though,” both drones beam at Two’s praise anyway, “But I still need your help, and it’s super important. So, one more time - I tell you to do something, and you resist doing it as much as you can.”

“Oh, so it ISN’T like a game of Chryssie says, I see,” Three nods wisely.

“Who’s Chryssie?” ask both Two and Six.

“Bad mom.”

“Like my mom?” Two furrows her brows.

“Nah, miss Eight’s awesome. She can punch things really hard!”

“Yeah, that’s all she can do apparently,” grumbles Two, clearly unimpressed with Three’s explanation.

“That’s not true! She can kick things really hard too!”

“And what if you can’t do what Chryssie says?” asks Six, suspicious.

“You go into the grinder.”

“Uhh… what’s a grinder?” two pairs of eyes look at Three again.

“Well… you know how Five beat both of you up? Now imagine thousand of those and they’re really mad. Then add acid.”

“Ouch,” winces Six.

“Back to the subject!” Two shakes her head, raising her voice, “Can you do what I want you to do?”

“You mean NOT do what you want us to do?”

At this point, Scream can’t handle it anymore and bursts out laughing, making Two’s eye twitch.

“Yes… exactly that,” Two breathes out, unsure whether she can actually strangle Three, but getting closer and closer to giving it a shot, “Now roll over!”

The drones sit there, unmoving.

Two grits her teeth.

“Roll over!”

Still nothing. Again, again, and again.

“She looks sad now,” whispers Three to Six, “Should I do it just to make her feel better?”

”Don’t you dare,” Scream hisses his way, ”This is gold!” out loud she says, ”Keep going, mini bug. You’re doing grea- well, you’re doing something.”

-SHUT UP!-

Everyone goes quiet as Two clutches her suddenly aching head.

”Oooh, I almost felt that one. Well, not really, but chatterbug and… hmm, what do we call the other one - disposable bug? Nah, too long.”

Neither Three nor Six are capable of answering, still under the effect of the successful mental command.

“Oh wow...” Three breathes out after few more seconds, “That was really cool! You’re like Four now… really angry Four, I mean, and without the tripping.”

“I- wh- I did it...” Two squees, beaming, “Ididit Ididit Ididit!” she bounces around.

”You know, getting lucky once doesn’t mean it’ll work again. All resemblance to your drinking thing and then getting punched to near-death events earlier intended,” Scream clears her throat.

“Right, right...” Two stops, “Okay, let’s give it few more shots so that I can be sure I can do it, at least when I’m not being kicked in the face. Okay, here goes - jump!”

Aaaand nothing.

“I don’t think it worked,” Three reports so very helpfully.

Two takes a deep breath, calms down, and tries to recall her exact feeling, the emotional power of the moment. As much as she hates to admit it, she does have a short fuse, and that order was tied to anger. Anger that almost got her killed before, and which got the boss revealed to the dwarves at large.

That won’t do. When she’s angry, she’ll fail. If she’s calm, she can bring an entire race under boss’ command. The mental order has nothing to do with what comes out of her mouth.

-Roll over!-

Both drones drop on their backs, being stationary for a second or two, then resuming Three’s self-massage method. Scream, mostly for giggles, does that too, wings spread.

”Hey, that’s not half bad. Good find, chatterbug!”

“Thank you, miss Scream,” answers Three.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Six stops, “Who’s the huge gold pony that the dwarves can’t see?”

“That’s Scream,” Two waves her hoof, “She knows a lot, but don’t let her talk you into things unless you’re absolutely sure you can get out once she kicks the chair from under you.”

“You mean if she kicks the chair under you?”

“Noooope!” Two grins sadistically.

”Cold...” pouts Scream.

“Accurate.”

”Not disputing that,” the alicorn shrugs, ”But still cold, and after all I did for you and boss bug...”

-Jump!-

Both drones bounce up instantly.

-And stop.-

Two’s final order is calm, collected, and most of all - effective.

“Thank you very much,” she pats Three and Six on the head, “I think I can do it if I have a moment to concentrate. The next part will be the difficult one, but I don’t need you two for that. Sorry for waking you up this early.”

“No problem, Two,” Three salutes, “Boss will be so happy to see what you learned.”

“I will show him at the right time, don’t worry. Let’s keep it a surprise, okay?”

“Okay, Two,” the drones are allowed out after pushing a button which lets the guards outside know that they want to leave. Two, however, stays, checking her love level.

”You know, I’m way too curious to stop you from doing what you want to do,” says Scream out of nowhere, ”But are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“It’s a good test,” Two doesn’t even try to hide anything from the alicorn.

”If I were you, I’d take some safety precautions, such as if you don’t return in an hour, the dwarves should go grab some mops and scrape your pulverized remains off of the floor.”

“I will leave a message in the hive mind, and clear it if things go alright. I checked her state as well as I could. If I made a glaring mistake which would lead to that, I don’t deserve to walk out of here anyway,” Two bites her lip, staring at the nearest closed and locked door, her breathing growing ragged, “She got inside before because we didn’t keep the whole building shut tight. She won’t get out.”

”And neither will you. Don’t take this as me trying to stop you. You’re the agent of your own destiny, to a miniscule degree, I’m just pointing out the potential splatter ending. If not for you, then for mini bug.”

“I thought I was mini bug again.”

”Nah, I can’t make up a nickname for Six. You’re relegated to smart bug on probation.”

“I need to burn some lust off. Do you know mind control magic?”

”Of course I do! And before you ask about other types of magic, I know those too. Aside from Magnus, I’m the best magic user in history.”

“Can you instruct me in something basic like you did with the boss and the ritual that gave Three a body?”

”I think you could handle some basic suggestion magic, but isn’t changeling stuff better anyway? By a LOT I mean.”

“I’ll be using that too.”

”Alright, the basic charging process is similar to what I did through you while casting the lightning spell before, that’s drawing on magic inside you, the spell itself feels like this-”

Two’s mind is assaulted by what can only be described by a mess of feelings and information, like reciting a book without ever reading it while being thrown into a whirlpool and trying not to drown because you don't know how to swim.

Thankfully, it’s short.

”-aaaand this is how the spell goes. It’s only basic, makes target a little more agreeable to listen. If they don’t want to, they most likely won’t anyway. The useful part is it being so weak it’s mostly invisible even to magical alarms.”

“Erlghbl...” Two blinks. Scream could swear she saw both her eyes turn completely blue with some white writing for a moment.

”Agreed.”

Two walks into the cell door.

“Eurllf...?”

She shakes her head, trying to open the massive door by pushing against it.

”Uhhh, are you okay?”

“Blrpbl?!” Two blinks again, and as if finally restarting, she looks at the string of her drool on the steel inner vault door, “Ow, my head!” with another breath to steady herself, “Let’s do this,” she opens the door correctly this time.

Five raises her head, slowly getting up on three legs and trying not to show pain. She’s taking the fact that her severed foreleg is hanging out of reach from the ceiling rather well. Two feels the warrior’s link, and taps into her head. She quickly finds the mental block, same as inside Six, but stops herself from pushing against it too hard. After all, boss’ orders were clear. Or were they?

“Don’t bother torturing me,” croaks Five, “I can’t tell you anything. But I might reconsider if you give me back my leg. I keep toppling over.”

“Well, boss doesn’t want a dribbling wreck on his hooves… yet,” Two grins, “Oh wait, that was true for Six.”

Five’s manages to stand straight, defiantly looking down at smaller Two. They both know, however, that while Five likely could hurt Two, she doesn’t have enough energy anymore to do anything else.

“Sit,” says Two.

“I serve only one master, and you’re not it,” answers Five.

-Sit!-

The warrior trembles, fighting her own body, before her remaining legs fold underneath her.

“One, two, three, four, five, six…” Two keeps counting under her breath until Five stands up, “eleven. Hmm, even as weak as she is, I can’t keep her down for long.”

-Tell me who sent you.-

“N-N-N-” Five clutches her head, and Two feels the warrior’s mind beating against the strange mental block inside her.

-Tell me who sent you!-

Five starts trembling, and gasping for breath. Two walks over, strengthening her fangs, and bites Five’s neck to release her weak venom into the warrior.

-Who sent you?-

“I-I-I-” Five’s mind resists, but a warrior isn’t built to rebel, only to obey orders, and the obedience trait is even stronger in Five for some reason, which Two picks up on, and her stubby horn starts glowing as she recreates Scream’s suggestive magic layered on top of everything else.

-OBEY ME!-

Five keels over, suddenly blank. A quick peek into her mind shows everything weirdly still, with the mental block remaining there, taunting Two’s lack of power and experience. Despite that, Two feels her command resonating within Five like a deep scar, not weakening at all.

“I won’t talk, I can’t, and it is as much due to respect as it is due to the block,” says Five with the same strange calm, “But I will obey.”

Two, shaking and gasping for breath more than Five before, blinks away tears and sweat. She leaves the warrior’s mind still burning with her command like a brand without signs of stopping.

”You know, while I’m impressed you made your first permanent slave,” Scream starts, and both Five and Two look at her, ”I’m absolutely certain boss bug’s gonna be pissed.”

***

I can’t stop myself from screaming when I look at the dejected and eerily peaceful warrior after Two explains what she did.

“Which part of IRREVERSIBLY ENSLAVING OTHER CHANGELINGS DIDN’T STRIKE YOU AS PURE FUCKING EVIL?! What wouldn’t Three do, wasn’t it? This definitely ISN’T something Three would do, IS IT?!”

”And you thought I was the bad guy,” Scream snickers.

Two lowers her head, her shoulders slumped and ears splayed back.

“...I’m sorry...” she whimpers.

“DON’T FUCKING APOLOGIZE TO ME! TURN FUCKING AROUND AND SAY THAT TO THE MENTALLY LOBOTOMIZED WARRIOR THERE!”

“May I say something?” Five raises her hoof.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Miss Two?” Five looks at her for confirmation.

“Yes. When boss says something, you do it.”

“I understand,” Five’s peaceful tone does little to soothe what I can only describe as FIERY FUCKING FURY, “I am not damaged as such, ‘boss’. I am aware of my situation, and I will obey anything miss Two orders. Her… deed robbed me of any freedom and overrides any orders I’ve had before, but I haven’t lost any of my skill or physical ability.”

“That’s not the point!” I stomp my hoof, finally able to lower my voice, “I don’t doubt your skill, I don’t doubt you physical ability. I don’t even really need to know who you freaking belong to! I don’t NEED any of that! I NEEDED YOU FREE! THAT’S what Two didn’t understand. I’ve known thousands of changelings like you - warrior slaves to the will of the infiltrators. Do you know where they are now? TWO, ESPECIALLY!”

“...no, boss...”

“They’re all dead. Vast majority of changelings died during a huge invasion under our uncaring queen Chrysalis. Everyone I gathered was happy not to be under Chrysalis anymore. I didn’t force anyone to do anything, they joined me because it helped them, which means out of their free will. Due to that invasion, ponies want us dead. EVERYONE wants us dead. The last thing we need is us hurting us. I wanted all changelings to be able to live as themselves, grow as themselves, and not have to steal others’ lives and scrounge for scraps of love as parasites,” I look at Five, “What do you want from life?”

“I have to serve Two.”

“What do you WANT?”

“I wanted to finish my task of killing Six for his failure and for being a weak link. His block can be destroyed, and information revealed. I am now in his position, I am the weak link.”

“No, Five. What do YOU want? Not what’s your task or anything. What do you want from life? What would you strive for if you were on your own.”

“I...” she stops, but I feel that she’s thinking about it, not that she’s refusing to answer, “I would still try to find someone to support with my skills. I don’t have goals of my own.”

I sigh. On the other hoof, I’m not in this situation for the first time.

“Five, you will serve Two, but don’t think of yourself as a tool, please. I hope you will have time and capacity to learn, but I’ve known a warrior called Nine. Well, we called him flower pot, because he was content with sitting and guarding my little hive. I can only hope Two didn’t ruin your life completely.”

“If her word goes against yours, I will obey her.”

“I know,” I nod.

“N-NO!” Two looks at Five, “I told you - you will obey the boss first!”

“I can’t-”

“No, she can’t. I can see it in her mind,” I say, “Whether you want it or not, you have personal responsibility now. Like I do with all of you, which is why I’m trying to let you grow, learn by making mistakes, and not being like Chrysalis and simply barking orders. Well, this is the result. I’m sorry, Five. I need to learn that there are orders I must enforce sometimes. I’m sorry you had to be the victim of my failure-”

“NO! It’s MY fault, boss,” Two squeaks, voice shaky and high-pitched, “You did nothing wrong! I just disobeyed-”

“Which is something that wouldn’t be allowed under Chrysalis, and which is something Five physically can’t do anymore. Think about that. You thought you had a good idea, you thought I was wrong and too soft, you thought you could do it. What if you weren’t even allowed to think that, not to mention actually try. You robbed a fellow changeling of that.”

“B- But she tried to kill Six, boss.”

“It was her choice to obey those orders, and she’s clearly in the wrong. I wanted to eventually make her understand, or discuss her reasons for it. If it was just orders, whoever is in charge can be talked to. I’m not defending Five, Two, I’m mad at you. Really, really mad.”

“...I know, boss...”

“Then make things right, that’s the best we can try to do. You’ve got your own warrior now, my order is that you make sure you can do good with her help, and that she doesn’t become a mindless tool of yours. It might help you with some self-control, Two, because some things become easy and soooo tempting with slaves.”

When did I become the adult in the room? Oh right…

Heh, come to think about it, Three’s the second oldest. Now that’s a mind-blowing realization.

I look at Two silently sitting in front of me, staring at the floor. What can I do now that the damage is done? I wish I knew how to fix everything.

Well, Chrysalis thought she knew how to fix everything. Memories of the hive rulers thought they knew how to fix everything. Maybe not knowing might actually work better…

“Five, do you actually want Six dead?” I ask.

“I dislike him for causing all this,” answers the warrior, “but if Two orders otherwise, I won’t go after him.”

“Good!” Two looks at her, “Then do that, or don’t do that I mean.”

“As you wish.”

“Well, Two, you’ve got a pet now. Don’t forget to pat and feed her, and if you don’t clean her litter box, she’s going back to the shelter,” I scratch confused Two under her chin, “Seriously now, don’t mess someone’s life worse than killing them outright would,” I clear my throat, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finally get some sleep before I have to explain to the dwarves why using flamethrowers as cigarette lighters is a really dumb idea, especially in areas filled with pockets of natural gas. You were in the hospital, Two. You must have seen that the leading cause of death here is stupidity.”

“Come on, Five,” the small infiltrator walks out just as Five easily accepts my link into our hive mind, and follows her outside.

”You know… I don’t really know what I expected, to be honest, but I like the result,” says Scream, looking at me with head tilted sideways.

“...I just want them to be happy...”

”Well, reuniting this city is a good start to make dwarves openly trust you and them.”

“...I’m just a changeling, Scream...”

”No, you’re the king, and if you don’t want your subjects to be your tools, then you have to use someone else. You can’t do it on your own.”

“I don’t want to throw them into danger.”

”Now here’s where we’ll keep disagreeing. While I know that you know that I don’t exactly care about your well-being, I also know way better than you that sheltered flowers don’t survive the first frost. To be honest, that’s something even Two gets, although she can always find the dumbest way to act on it.”

True…

“Good night, Scream.”

”I wouldn’t bet on it,” she chuckles.

“What do you-”

Someone knocks at the door.

”It’s already morning, boss bug. Rise and shine!”

FFFFffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccc-

13: Boss of the lings: Two's troubles.

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“Hey, Three?” Six stops to take a breath after unloading another batch of emeralds into the mine cart. With the help of the two drones, the emerald shaft dwarves were free to smooth up the floor and set up a small rail for easier transportation, “Well...”

“What is it? Did you chip a hoof?” Three furrows his brows, looks at the runes around his left foreleg, and they change color from purple to yellow, “HAHAAA! I DID IT! Now.. how did I do it? Anyway, I’m still listening, Six.”

The slightly smaller drone scratches his head.

“Ummm… how do I tell a mare that I like her?”

Suddenly, the lack of digging noises isn’t coming from just the drones.

“You say - ‘I like you, miss’,” Three shrugs, “It’s not that hard, I suppose.”

Six frowns.

“Yeah, that won’t work, I’m sure. How do I show her? You know, that I’d like to, umm, be with her… for more than, well, a drone, umm, and… intimately maybe? I talked to mares when I was in disguise, but as myself, and when I mean it… I don’t know what to do.”

“You gotta impress her!” the foreman wraps his foreleg around Six’ shoulders, “Find the biggest, baddest tunnel worm, you grab your pickaxe, and knock one of its teeth out. Then you do it with the rest AFTER it eats you, and make a necklace out of those. Well, the teeth are the size of your leg, so more a house than a necklace, but you get what I mean.”

“Meh,” another dwarf shakes his hoof, “Not all mares like reckless berserkers, although my ma did, but she was one too. I still remember my pa having a necklace out of his own teeth she beat out of him on wedding night. She was proud of the whip scars on her back her whole life too. I’m undermining my point here, I understand, but not everyone is so old school. However, you can’t go wrong with proper gems. Not the silly emerald stuff we’re digging here, but diamonds from the magma streams, cut by the legendary ancient machines from the dark priest enclave. Now that’s bound to make her eyes and other bits wet when you tell her you like her.”

“Oh come on,” a different dwarf objects, “Does this little bugger look like someone rich enough to afford that? Nah, buggy. I heard you can drink like no one else. Every mare can appreciate a suitor who can hold his liquor. If you can drink the biggest badass under the table, then still guess right which of the three mares you’re seeing is the real one and giver her a hug, she’s bound to swoon.”

“Umm,” Six chuckles, “What if she… sorta… hates me?”

“Perseverance, lad!” the foreman still holding him shakes him so hard he lets out a little ‘blrblr’ noise, “If you prove you’re worthwhile, she won’t hate you at least. And that’s the first step.”

“Umm, Three? Got any experience in that regard? I don’t mean to disrespect your advice, guys, but Three here is the closest to my position really.”

Three wisely scratches his chin.

“Nope!”

Six sighs, then Three continues:

“Back home, we didn’t get to even think about that. Drones like us carry stuff, dig, or get eaten if a high rank feels peckish. I’m just happy I’m healthy, all the lings around are nice to me, even the dwarf ponies, other than the bald, shouty ones. I just find something I like to do, and I do it.”

“Well, I’d like to do Five, if you know what I mean.”

”What the WHAT?!” Two reveals that on some level she was aware of this conversation taking place.

”Hellloooooo, nurse!” Scream appears in a blast of golden light.

”Now this is a lot better than a discussion about the shade of military armor decorations based on rank,” I chime in after the commotion in the hive mind snaps me out of my sleepy trance during a council meeting.

“Who’s this lucky Five mare anyway?” asks the foreman, “One of you, I suppose.”

“She tried to kill me,” Six blushes. The dwarves start cheering.

“Now that’s what I call having balls, buggy! But hey, you’ve got a leg up on her in that regard.”

“W-What do you mean?” Six turns his head to all the now eagerly listening dwarves.

“Well, you said she TRIED to kill you, right? You’re still here, which means you showed her you’re no pushover.”

“You’re not bothered by the killing intent part?”

“You heard Blast Furnace here talking about his mom and pops, right? That’s not exactly uncommon for us. I’m pretty sure my great-grandmother set up a tunnel explosion to cause a cave-in while my great-granddad was working there so that she could rush in and save him.”

“But what- what if he died?”

“Then he wouldn’t be worthy of the crazy firecracker my great-grandma was,” the foreman waves his foreleg, “She gave me my first pet when I was nine, I remember. A baby dwarf eating spider.”

“Like a small spider that grows up later and eats dwarves? Why?”

“No, like a big spider that eats baby dwarves.”

“Question remains, only louder. WHY?!”

“She had an awesome sense of humor, the old bat,” the foreman wipes a nostalgic tear from his eye, “Anyway, we said our piece, so good luck and don’t hesitate to ask again if you need some more help. Now, though, WHY AM I NOT HEARING ANY DIGGING?”

As everyone returns to work, the hive mind turmoil returns.

”I’m not the one to dissuade you, Six, but… why?” I ask.

”I, well, she’s impressive, pretty, strong-”

”She can hear you,” says Five flatly, ”and is also mad that she lost her freedom because of you. Mostly because of you.”

Six gulps.

”Well, I, well, I mean...”

”I wouldn’t blame someone if I was sent to kill them, really,” I take the side of Six.

”Thank you, boss,” Six whimpers under the mental equivalent of glaring daggers from Five, ”I mean, Five, her… I mean your dedication to duty is admirable, and remember that time when a tunnel worm swallowed me, you kicked through his teeth, grabbed me, and then hacked your way out through its asshole?” Six suddenly frowns, ”Huh, there goes the necklace plan.”

Hmm, so he can talk about something from the past when it’s unrelated to who sent him here. Good to know.

”Letting her know how you feel is good start, I’d say, even though it wasn’t exactly willingly. I would tell you just to be yourself, and if you like Five, then be around her without becoming obtrusive. Company, help, anything?”

”Kill Two, which might or might not free me, then jump into magma, which will finish my mission and I’ll be free to go back. That’s the dedication to duty you said you liked, right?” Five shoots the idea down.

”Keep talking about my death,” says Two calmly, ”and I’ll make you love him for the rest of your days. Speaking of helping, if you ever need a bodyguard, Six, just ask me to lend her to you. My leg still twitches randomly from her shoving it up my love hole.”

”I’m choosing to believe that was a joke, Two,” I narrow my eyes.

”Joke, barely veiled threat, what’s the difference?” she shrugs.

She learned from the event, which is what I have to keep telling myself not to snap at her. This was a joke, and I must show that I trust her.

”Well, no, miss Two. Thank you anyway,” says Six, ”It just wouldn’t be the same. Just please tell her not to kill me.”

”I already explained to her what is and isn’t allowed, don’t worry. Of course, if you’re playing the long game and eventually do betray us, I now have a good way of making the situation painfully ironic.”

”Eeep!”

***

“Alright, with that out of the way, I want to talk seriously for a moment,” Two says to Five behind the royal tavern.

“I’m listening,” answers the warrior, not letting her eyes her eyes wander from occasional dwarves passing by and trying not to stare at the two chatting changelings.

“You were there when boss chewed me out for… doing to you what I did.”

“Making me your slave.”

“Thank you for reminding me...” Two grinds her teeth.

“No problem,” Five raises an eyebrow meaningfully, “I don’t really need a reminder, because your face still hasn’t been shoved into this wall so hard that you could greet your boss again.”

Two sighs.

“Look, I can’t change what I did, and you were and likely still are our enemy. I’ve got at least equal reasons to be pissed at you as you are at me, mass murder attempt comes to mind,” she hisses, rubbing her temples, “No, enough! The boss didn’t want you to become just a tool, and I’d like to at least give you a chance to stay yourself without you being a threat to anyone. That’s why I’m giving you the freedom to walk around boss’ part of Brauheim and do any non betrayal-related activities, only undisguised. I know it won’t fix much, but it’s a start, I hope.”

“I’m a warrior. I fight for-” her eye twitches from a stab of pain, “I fight. That’s what I do.”

“Then can’t you fight for us? I mean, you’re a changeling. From what little knowledge the boss released into the hive mind, our old life was horrendous, and everyone hated us. Boss wants things to be different.”

Five closes her eyes, and thinks for a moment.

“I am loyal to… to our survival as well. However, I don’t know how much I can believe your motivation. From what I saw and heard, I can somewhat respect your ‘boss’. You, though? No. You are undisciplined, hot-headed, and think you’re smarter than anyone else until it kicks you in the mouth. From the imprints of your selves within your hive mind, you are the least ‘adult’ one, and not only physically. Even Six is more himself, with a set of his own values, than you. You just want to please your boss.”

”A-hem!” Scream’s voice interrupts, ”Stop kicking smart bug when she’s down, slave bug.”

“Scream…?” Two’s eyes go wide, “Whuh? You’re… defending me?”

”You bet I am. Not because I care too much, but I like others to make judgement based on correct information. You, slave bug, are right in absolutely everything you said about Two.”

Two’s jaw drops completely. The corner of Five’s mouth twitches. Scream flicks Two’s ear ineffectually, and continues:

”BUT, one BUT bigger than Celestia’s allows this. Two is a week old, and has no role model or anyone to teach her what’s right or wrong other than the boss. I mostly just like to watch, although I don’t want her to grow up a psycho, at least not the boring, blindly stabby kind of a psycho. The scheming, smart, and sexy kind of psycho is okay. Well, literal divine intervention over,” Scream vanishes.

Five pouts a little.

“Reasons are important, but it doesn’t change what I said.”

“Same goes,” Two turns around, “Be yourself, and don’t be a killer. That’s all. I’m going back to the council meeting.”

As she leaves, Five slowly breathes in and out. Analyzing her situation over and over to find a way out has proven fruitless, so this could really be an opportunity to possibly gain the information Six was sent here for. A way to get it outside might turn up later, and it would be a waste if she didn’t discover what she could.

Or she could go to sleep…

No, no. Her owner’s boss gave her a little love to take care of herself, which in itself was strategically foolish, but a gesture adding to Five’s opinion about him. It changed nothing about her loyalty and goals, but definitely softened her original hostility.

To Five’s surprise, even the dwarves leave her alone, although guards, distinguishable from general population only by standing still and not going after the business of the late morning, don’t let her out of their sight until she’s too far.

“You know, going crazy on a mission was a way I thought I’d go, and I’m the one trying to control unstable, wish-granting energy,” an unrecognizable dwarf in his full armor joins Five. A faint tug on her mind makes her tilt her head.

“Seven?” she hisses, then lowers her head, “You’re here to kill Six and me, aren’t you? To be completely honest, I’m ready to accept my punishment.”

“Let’s not get hasty here, and what’s with the depression? I didn’t know you had emotions in the first place.”

Five feels Two’s link inside her flare up.

”GRAB HIM!” orders Two, which makes Five pounce at the ‘dwarf’.

“You have to run, Seven! She’s controlling me!” pleads Five, standing on the smaller dwarf, holding him down against the floor, “I can’t resist. You have go back-”

”Stop telling him things!”

Five bites her lip mid-sentence, and a different dwarf which is Two in a throwaway disguise, if her complete lack of armor wasn’t a definite clue already, rushes from behind a street corner nearby.

Two hears a loud pop, and then Five’s standing on an empty suit of armor while a thin changeling is standing a short distance away, his horn glowing brightly.

”Go after him!”

Five immediately charges at Seven again.

-FREEZE!-

Two, lacking the experience at using mental commands, realizes her mistake when Five stops in her tracks while the ‘Seven’ changeling twitches for a whole second before teleporting away again.

”NOT YOU, FIVE! YOU GO AFTER HIM!”

Two burns love to enhance her speed, leaving Five behind, but the enemy changeling’s magic is beyond her ability to chase, and she’s slowly losing him while the halls of Brauheim become just a blur.

”Scream! I need help! Or advice.”

”Advice? Aaaanytime, smart bug,” Scream casually floats by, matching Two’s eye-watering speed.

”Enemy changeling. Using magic. Can’t catch up!”

”Oooh, teleportation? Neat. Changelings using magic are pretty rare, mostly because there isn’t a proper library back in the Badlands rather than any innate problems. Well, chain casting like this is taxing, so while you’re gasping for breath, I have no doubt whoever the changeling is isn’t in much better shape.”

”Boss said that I can hold much less love than other changelings because I’m too young and undeveloped. Can’t you track him?”

”Yeah, sure.”

”That’s all I need, please.”

”Left, left, right-”

With Scream’s help, Two finds herself in the empty zone between the king’s and queen’s parts of Brauheim until-

-until she rounds a corner, and gets punted into a wall, wind and blood knocked out of her.

”What did I say about rushing head-first into danger, hmmm?” Scream shakes her head.

Two sees the changeling’s horn flare up again. The good part is that he indeed does look tired from the chase as well

-Stop.-

Seven grits his teeth, fighting the order which interrupted his spell while Two gets up. His exhaustion must mean that while Two’s energy maximum is small, Seven wasn’t full by any measure. On top of that, he’s lanky and doesn’t seem used to physical activity, while Two… has had a lot of practice recently, to put it gently. To sum it up, the enemy must be an infiltrator, and not the best one.

Too bad Five is way too far to be of any help at the moment, her lack of energy not allowing her to follow Two’s breakneck speed.

-Don’t teleport!-

Two’s more specific command mentally chains Seven. However, while it allows for added power, Seven’s horn flares again, and Two’s hit by searing hot ball of flames appearing out of nowhere, barely able to shield her eyes.

Coughing from her burned lungs, she hears his slow hoofsteps approach her.

-Lie down!-

Seven’s psychic order makes Two stop trying to get up, but she grins to herself when her legs listen to her pretty much immediately after.

“You picked the wrong changeling to order around, wannabe,” she mutters, grinning to herself, “I’m better than you.”

Pretending she still isn’t in control, she only looks up. When Seven is standing right above her, she concentrates.

-KNEEL BEFORE ME!-

Seven’s eyes go wide as he bows before the smaller infiltrator getting up from the floor. The fact that she’s barely standing and blinking away exhausted sweat doesn’t take away from his complete shock.

”Scream, anyone… how do I restrain someone who can use magic?” asks Two.

”Magic suppressors, really loud chaotic noises, repeatedly punching them in the face… take your pick,” Scream shrugs.

”Wait, what magic? What’s going on?” I instantly skim through Two’s recent memories, ”Craaaaaap, another one?” checking Two’s location, I realize even with speed boost it would take me about fifteen minutes to get to her, and same goes for Three or Six, if they even could be of any help, ”Goop his horn. One was able to completely block magic by doing that. I don’t know the exact composition, but it can’t hurt.”

Seven suddenly blinks away, making Two grit her teeth and stumble while taking her first step towards him.

-Stop, stop!-

Two’s command is desperate, unfocused, and while it makes Seven flinch, it doesn’t stop him from teleporting once more, and this time Two can’t follow anymore.

She lost again.

“Fuuuuuuuccc-” she punches the floor.

”Language! Five, go escort Two back immediately,” I order, ”Being in the demilitarized zone can’t be healthy.”

”Understood.”

”I’m sorry, boss,” says Two, ”I failed.”

”Not really, to be honest.”

”But… Seven got away.”

”True, definitely. However, you are still alive after meeting an enemy who used something you had zero experience with, and while he did use your weakness against you - endurance, you used your strength against him well. So don’t apologize, Two. Good job. Not perfect, but definitely good.”

I feel the little infiltrator warm up a bit.

”I’ll fix it, boss.”

”In due time, Two. I’m sure you will. Now I need to tell Granite to do something about his patrols. The dark priest devices and alarms obviously don’t work that well, but I’ve got an idea. If you don’t shapeshift, then anyone suspicious can only be the enemy changeling.”

”Unless they transform into your bugs,” Scream shakes her head.

”Yeah, but dwarf patrols have this communicator thingies that allow them to call for help. I’ll just order them to report if they see any of you, I’ll check your location, and we’ll know if it’s really one of us. It means Granite and I will have to find or make some sort of command center, but I’m used to sitting on my ass and watching the world from others’ eyes. We’ve got a more pressing problem, though.”

”Aww, why is it always a problem? Why can’t it be surprise cake?” Three pouts.

”Overall, we’re low on love. These skirmishes are draining, and I can’t keep refilling you anymore. We need to let dwarves do their job. As I said, I’ll talk to Granite, but you need to do yours.”

”Orgy! Orgy! Orgy!” Scream starts chanting.

”Two, Five, you’re to hunt for love. I’ve noticed that dwarves, especially those in the military consider you exotic and interesting. You can use that. Oh, and Topaz would like to see you again, Two. I think he really likes you.”

”Makes things a little easier, definitely,” Two nods.

”I can help too,” Six raises his hoof, ”It was my job to survive on my own while scouting. Plus, being around Three is kinda… refreshing too.”

”Good, we need to top up. Try more love than lust, but if we can’t get a good ratio, I’ll have to try my hoof at energy mixing like One used to do. I just hope I don’t poison anyone.”

”Testing volunteer, right here,” says Five flatly.

”Shush, or I’ll have you hug Six until he’s a little love generator on his own,” Two takes a jab of her own.

”N-No...” Six stutters, ”Or maybe, as an experiment?”

”Hmmm, if I hug him really hard, I COULD cause some interesting internal bleeding...” Five ponders out loud.

”C-Can we just cuddle?”

”Oh no, with you, it’s a literal pelvis-shattering bang or nothing,” Five grins, ”Finally, an idea that satisfies everyone.”

”Hey, just like your first time with miss Eight, boss!” Three chimes in.

Hmm, maybe I should test the love-lust mix on myself first.

Or maybe…

”Scream, I need your help,” I say when everyone’s link weakens, ”As much as I don’t want to, I must do this the old changeling way, but with new changeling result.”

***

Forge Fire comes home late once again, blissfully not completely wasted for once. While his wife Diamond Cut still does appreciate a good drinker when she sees one, not being capable to do anything other than roll over after you come home isn’t an attractive trait, and hasn’t been for decades of their marriage.

“I’m home, Diamond.”

“Food’s on the stove, Forge,” she says, gradually realizing Forge’s voice isn’t slurred like usual. She peeks out of the living room, “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” says her husband. When she walks out to see what got him so down that he came home strangely sober after a usual evening with friends. Her eyes go wide when she sees him with a bouquet of flowers, “Sorry, it’s a bit- well, a lot late for our anniversary. I know I’ve been an ass for… ever, really.”

Diamond Cut narrows her eyes.

“What do you want?” she says slowly, with utmost suspicion, “Or what did you do…?”

“It’s more about what I didn’t do, or haven’t been doing for way too long,” Forge Fire admits, “But I admit I am hungry, honey.”

“Hon-?!” Cut squeaks as her husband grabs her, nuzzling her neck out of nowhere, something he hasn’t done in years.

Forge Fire smacks his lips.

“You outdid yourself on the appetizer today, honey,” he leaves the blushing and confused mare behind, taking his armor off and putting it on a stand by the door. To Diamond Cut’s growing horror, he doesn’t go to the living room and then fall asleep. Instead, his steps lead to the kitchen where he automatically starts washing the dishes.

“Who are you and what did you do with my husband?” asks Cut, but not before the dishes accumulated over the day are all clean. She’s a practical mare after all.

“Honey-” Forge Fire looks taken aback, and then Cut puts her hoof on her husband’s mouth.

“No matter. I know what I want to do with him,” she turns around, flicking her tail to brush Forge Fire’s nose. Obediently, her husband follows her to the bedroom.

”What DID you do with the old drunk anyway after we found him?” asks Scream, ”I was busy telling smart bug how to throatfuck a dwarf with her tongue, and laughing at slave bug-”

”Please, don’t call Five that,” I say, gently kissing Diamond Cut, ”And real Forge Fire is out cold in the cellar, full of venom and some suggestions about being less of a total asshole to his wife.”

”You’re an UNBELIEVABLE goody four horseshoes! Vomit-worthy and impressive at the same time. Now nibble her neck a little.”

”Nothing crazy, Scream.”

”You’re less experienced than mini bug, so shut up and keep doing what I tell you until she’s satisfied,” grumbles the alicorn.

”Alright, alright.”

Diamond Cut will never know what happened. Forge Fire will hopefully never know what happened either, but will wake up as a better dwarf. However, I had no idea that rekindling lost love from its dying embers would taste and feel so good.

No matter if others fail or don’t bring enough energy tomorrow, I will be able to feed them. That’s my job. Job that I wouldn’t be able to do properly without a certain infuriating alicorn.

”Thank you, Scream.”

”About time you said that, boss bug. I’ll add it to my list of favors to call in later.”

14: Boss of the lings: Return of the ling

View Online

Alright, situation report.

For the past two days, things have been going smoothly, albeit not without hiccups. The love gathering operation turned out a surprising success on all sides. Maybe I’ve finally done enough things right for events to start going my way? No, thinking that would be silly. Nevertheless, Two brought a good mix of love and lust, which makes me really believe either that Topaz really fell for her, or that she’s turning out to be an excellent manipulator under Scream’s questionable tutelage. Probably a little bit of both. Six surprised me the most, returning to me in order to transfer the gained energy repeatedly. It seems that he’s actually really good at flirting and one night stands. He was a bit freaked out when I told him not to leave the mares he targets immediately after he’s full, but it was important to both gain energy and friendly contacts. I left Five to follow and guard Three who occasionally kept doing his digging and helping in the emerald mining, while overall exploring the nearly inexhaustible mine network under Brauheim. This sorted out Five’s feeding problem. Now she’s stable, even gaining a little love from Three’s aura. The last order of business - Seven hasn’t returned, or if he did then we didn’t see him at least. A changeling using real magic could become a serious problem if left unchecked, but we don’t have a way to track him and lock him down.

As for Brauheim business, the original daily fiery debates of the supporting council have shrunk into real discussions about basic issues raised by the city’s inhabitants. As it turns out, dwarven culture is so set on miniscule rituals and irrelevant details that we had to talk about the allowed hardness of toothbrushes for the elderly to combat para- paradent- dont- sys- some disease or something. I was, of course, for my usual stance - if it helps, do it, but we did have strong opposition in the fact that “too much of a good thing makes dwarves soft” argument.

I wish I could have Two punch ponies a lot more often, but discussion has to take place to show that ponies want change, not just me.

Anyway, it’s late afternoon, business is concluded for the day, and I can finally, for the first time, just walk around the city. No pressing matter, no love shortage, not too much fear of being discovered, nothing. Should I check the market? The residential district and the vaults are kinda boring, to be honest. Maybe I could visit the mines? Three seems to enjoy his time there. Hmm, maybe I could-

Suddenly, lights go out. Everywhere.

Confused calls follow soon after.

Aaaand here comes the screaming. I kinda forgot that ponies can’t see in complete darkness. Altering my eyes to work properly in a dwarven disguise, I sigh and start trotting back to the royal tavern. I guess my relaxing evening will have to wait.

”Is everyone okay?”

”Five and I are still practicing the magic shield spell Scream taught me. Do you need our help?” Two reports.

”Not sure. I’ll tell you if I do.”

”Why are you asking? Is something going on?” asks Three.

”Yeah, all lights went off out of nowhere.”

”I can see just fine, boss.”

”That’s because of your lamp body and changeling eyes.”

”Actually, no, your Majesty- boss,” Six corrects me, ”The lights down here in the mine are completely fine.”

”Oh, really? Good to know. I’ll go see what’s going on. Who knows? This might be a common thing. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

The occasional yelling says otherwise, but I’m not about to spread panic.

When I’m back, some small lanterns are already on inside, faintly illuminating faces of far more dwarves than usual.

“Granite, what’s going on?” I ask the loremaster already standing on the dais, listening to a voice coming from a small box in his hooves, “I was on my way to the market, then everything went black and dwarves started yelling.”

“A problem, queen.”

No, really? I thought it was the annual panic and chaos celebration.

“Obviously,” I roll my eyes, “But what’s going-” he raises his hoof, and starts speaking to the box.

“Set up guards at every exit from the maintenance floor. Hard Reset is here with me, and we’re waiting for his engineers. Not everyone knows how to deal with old tech, and the first priority of the repair team was to get the emergency generators running. Over.”

“Orders received. Sending patrols now. Everyone else is out there, informing the citizens. Whose stupid idea was it not to connect the emergency broadcast system to the reserve generators?” comes from the box, “Over.”

Granite frowns, puts the speaking box down, and looks at me.

“Well, there’s an excellent idea for the next council meeting. Well, queen, something’s wrong with electricity, and considering it’s global, I suspect something being wrong with the generators rather than on the way.”

“It’s not global, Granite. Six and Three told me the mines are fine.”

“How did they tell you in the time from the start of the blackout if they're in the mines?”

“They bugged me about it,” I frown at him. Thankfully, he understands that it would be a dumb idea to continue that line of questioning while surrounded by dwarves. Queen Brick being a changeling is still somewhat of a secret.

“Anyway, that’s good news, actually,” says Granite.

The general lighting turns back on, only dimmer and in a shade of red, and I realize something I haven’t all this time underground - there’s faint humming in the distance, and it has been there all the time until the blackout. Now, hearing it again, I feel like it’s weaker.

I lean in to Granite’s ear, and whisper:

“I really could use an explanation that doesn’t presume I know how this city works. What’s at risk?”

Granite leads me to a table for two which has been left empty by the dwarves departing after the red lights turned on.

“We haven’t had a blackout like this in my lifetime. Old devices simply work, albeit their maintenance is rather difficult. But, if what you said about mines being okay is true, then this looks more like a sabotage than a failure. One possibly aimed at the vaults and this part of the residential district.”

“Sabotage? By whom?”

“Well, if I didn’t know you, then you’d be the first one on my mind. Like this… well… the real queen, maybe? It is a distinct possibility she’s finally learned about the old king’s death, and is trying to reclaim Brauheim.”

“How does this help her? As far as I know, the dwarves here aren’t fans.”

“They will be once temperatures start dropping. Hopefully, the secondary ventilation system will save us from problems with air supply. Oh, I completely forgot the last thing - all vault security doors have been unlocked. I’ll have to organize patrols.”

“Is it possible that somepony did this to get to the vaults? I don’t know, to steal something important?”

To my surprise, Granite shrugs. I was expecting dwarves to be more about treasures and gold.

“It is, but somepony stealing a bag or two of gold ingots doesn’t really mean much. The life support is the dangerous part. We’ll see what the engineer squad says about it.”

“Mind if I send someone with them?” I ask, “I have no clue how your maintenance floor works, and seeing that something might be wrong with it, I’d like to have a look. Your guards never let Three or anyone inside, and all the tunnels are locked tight. Changelings have good noses.”

Granite thinks about it for a moment.

“I guess that since trouble is already here, we may as well use all help we can. BUT, only one of yours, and they’ll be escorted at all times.”

“No problem with that. I’ll send Three. Most dwarves have heard about a friendly, glowing changeling, and you can go keep an eye on him yourself. Plus, he can be a lamp if something else goes wrong.”

”Three, get back here as fast as you can. I’ll tell you to what maintenance floor entrance to go in a minute.”

“Hm, that’s not a bad idea. I will do that. Sitting here and chatting all day gets boring after a while.”

“You don’t have to tell me. The first free evening when I get to go out, and this happens,” I pout, ”Alright, get the team ready. Three and I will join you on the way. I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines.”

***

The maintenance tunnels look very similar to the narrower streets of the city with one big difference - ropes of thick cables lining the walls and the ceiling absolutely everywhere. Three’s watching everything with wide eyes while the dwarves are leading us away from the entrance, and deeper into the complex.

“Hey, what’s that?” Three pokes Granite, pointing his hoof at yet another clump of wires, this one ending in a box set in the wall. The runes on his foreleg glow stronger and white, forming a directional ray of light.

“That’s basically an amplifier. You see, electricity going through cables as long as these loses… what do you know about electricity?”

“Is that a city like Brauheim? Maybe the top floor is Brauheim, and this floor is the electri city?” Three gives it a fair shot. To be honest, I’m not much smarter about the whole thing than he is. Who am I kidding? At least he tried to take a guess. I'd just shake my head and drool.

Hidden under his helmet, Granite chuckles.

“No, it’s like an energy that powers the lights, heating, and all the machinery up in Brauheim. Well, it goes through the cables, and it weakens. These nodes, the amplifiers, make the flow of energy stronger so that it reaches the upper floor power stations. You two at the front, stop snickering! I’d like to hear you eggheads explain laws of conductivity to someone who thinks you can heal ponies with the power of hugs.”

“Wait, you can’t?” Three turns his head to me, “Did the nurse lie to me when I went to visit Two in the hospital? She said I made the old pony feel a lot better.”

“Ponies heal a lot differently than changelings, Three,” I say, “But I don’t doubt for a second you really did make them feel better.”

“Oh...” he says, and I sense the disappointment from him, before he smiles brightly again, “Then, if nuzzlin doesn’t work, I just gotta add a dose of snuggle-up!”

“...may ancestors have mercy on the diabetes patients...” mutters Granite.

“Speaking of hugs,” I recall something absolutely crucial completely forgotten in the moment, “Granite, can you refresh me about this ‘crown prince Rocksworth’ you mentioned in the vault?”

“Is this a good time?” asks Granite quietly, nodding to our companions.

“I… Three would like to know, and you can tell the story better than me,” I pretend to avoid suspicion, “And definitely in more detail. I’m not much of a history buff.”

“Of course I’ll enlighten Three here, my queen,” Granite nods.

“Yayyy, story time!” Three’s ears perk up.

“I’ll make it short, as we are almost at the vault district power distribution center. You see, many centuries ago the solitary peace of our ancestors in Brauheim was disturbed by creatures like you - changelings who came from the surface. At first, we led war for territory and resources, but our conflict was mainly because of misconceptions and lack of knowledge. Changelings weren’t after our mines, they wanted something completely different - us. However, the few careful attempts at communication turned out more successful than we could have hoped. We discovered that their small hive was a civilization like ours, and one which relied purely on things we didn’t need as such. All they wanted was peace, space, and… as hard as it was for us to believe - love. Of course, the few stragglers and sympathizers who joined our ranks were carefully monitored while the war between our forefathers and the frozen hive, as we called them. Eventually, their queen Cryo and our king Groundbreaker made peace in face of some greater threat. What preceded the peace was Cryo’s failed attempt to usurp our throne using a changeling who drank his way to royal succession - crown prince under the fake name Rocksworth. Unfortunately for him, the law doesn’t actually allow you to simply BECOME our king or queen, only the crown prince or princess,” Granite interjects in a whisper, “You succeeded simply due to old king’s attempt to defend his honor, let’s say, blew up in his face,” he returns to his normal tone, “Anyway, this prince Rocksworth was revealed as a changeling, and became our link to queen Cryo, resulting in an alliance to face ‘the darkness’.”

“Am I going to regret asking what the darkness was?”

“Either something horrible beyond imagination or, considering how obscure dark priest history records are, an allegory for a mushroom cake overdose. All I know is that after the war for our survival, the changelings were gone, never to be seen again until your- Three’s arrival. Dwarves can think of new changelings two ways - either as an old friend returning home, or as predators once again among our ranks.”

“And how do YOU see it, Granite?”

He pats Three’s head.

“I’m leaning towards the former, albeit that changeling assassin from few days ago makes me wonder if there’s more than meets the eye. Your decision to let this ‘Five’ roam free makes me think you know something you’re not sharing with us. Something such as that there may be more changelings around. I would like to know whether those are friends as well, or the latter, predatory kind.”

“If I knew the answer, I would tell you,” I sigh, “Knowing where we stand would definitely make things easier.”

“We’re here, loremaster, your Majesty,” says one of the engineers at the front.

“Boss, I think the electri-not-a-real-city is leaking on the floor. I wonder how it tastes,” Three leans down to a sparkling cable and a small pool of water on the floor, and licks it.

The air crackles. Three’s hive link becomes… incoherent.

“NO!” a guard jumps at him, his flight knocking Three away.

“Bzzbllbzt!” Three twitches, still in the dwarf’s embrace as I rush over. The guard, hissing, stands up and leaves Three on the floor. When the small drone blinks several times, shakes his head, points at the electrified puddle on the floor, and says, “Hey!” we all let out a long sigh of relief.

“Are you okay, Three?” I ask, mostly due to the smoke coming from him.

“Aeh- Ah- I- I’m fine, boss, umm, queen...” he glares at the sparkling cable as if accusing it of betrayal, “That’s not energy like love, that hurt! I thought when you said energy that I could eat it.”

“Excellent reaction, guard,” Granite nods, “He’s still alive.”

“Thank you, loremaster!” the guard salutes, looking at his partially melted gauntlets, “Although I have no idea how.”

“Miss Scream said us changelings are kinda okay with lightning,” explains Three, “It stings a lot, though.”

A quick feel of Three’s body proves that, indeed, it stings and itches all over, but he does feel absolutely alright, although the binding runes over his body are unnaturally bright and completely white.

Three shakes his leg.

“Awww… it broke my lamps...” he pokes himself, “And I wanted to show miss Scream how to change the colors.”

I look around as the engineers start examining the area. It looks like a room built into the wall with chain link fencing around. In the room, there are numerous metal boxes with buttons and sliders, all dark.

“Hard Reset, come look at this,” one engineer opens a metal box on the wall, revealing patches of small cables cut in half. Speaking of which, Hard Reset is our council representative for ‘hardware’ as they called it. One one hole, I wish I knew what it meant, on the other… I’m not so sure because I tend to doze off whenever he starts talking. He’s surprisingly young for a dwarf - only in his fifties, and he’s the first white-coated dwarf I’ve seen. His brown mane is completely common, though.

“Hmmm,” he clicks his lips, looking up from checking the backs of the devices and panels all over the room, “Yeah, this isn’t just shut down, it’s broken, and under no circumstances could this be a malfunction. Someone broke the power station on pretty much all levels. All the circuitry is screwed, main power cable has been cut, and even the minor couplings are severed. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. Even I could barely cause more damage without blowing it up completely.”

“Hey, there’s something here on the floor,” Three sniffs a black flake of something, then follows the trail to another piece hidden behind a device, and few smaller ones in the corner under another dented metal box, “It’s chitin… and it smells like Five!”

Granite turns his head to me, and so do the others.

“Five’s been with Two all day, and none of the changelings are the technical kind,” I have a look at the chitin shards Three gathered, “And these are old, damaged,” I grin, completely mirthless, “I think someone’s trying to frame the changelings. After all, we didn’t clean up after I stopped Five from killing everyone. Granite?”

“Yes?”

“If I were you, I’d station guards down here as well as by the entrances.”

“After seeing this, I definitely will.”

“Are there many of these… power stations down here?”

“There’s one big for each district, and several smaller ones for certain areas. This one controls the whole vault district, so I presume we’ll find the one for the residential district in the same shape.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hard Reset finishes writing something into his notepad, “If the queen here is so adamant the changelings aren’t behind this, then I guess it could be the work of the old queen. The one way to be sure is if we check the residential power station and it’s okay while the secondary stations for our part of Brauheim have been destroyed. Anyway, we should go. We’ve assessed the damage here, and after we’re back up we’ll see how much we can replace outright, and what’s going to need more time.”

“Alright, lead the way,” I nod.

Several hours later, I’m back at the royal tavern, sorting things out in my head.

Hard Reset got it right - the residential district central power was intact while the smaller stations under our part of Brauheim were completely trashed, which means the suspect really is either the old queen, or whoever Seven, Six, and Five are associated with.

***

Day five of the cold age, which is something I wouldn’t dare say in front of any shivering dwarf.

According to Hard Reset’s estimates, the damage to the power network might take weeks to repair, and dwarves are taking it badly despite initial optimism. The residential district is getting really cold, as there’s no way to power the heating. With the emergency generators connected only to the lights and secondary air and water supply, I had to order evacuation to the edges of the mines, and the first dwarves to suffer from hypothermia due to the exposure to low temperatures were moved down to the magma streams. Well, not directly TO the magma streams, although some said they’d appreciate that too. What completely shocked me was the dwarves’ reaction when I said this was targeted only at our part of the city, and that they could give moving to the supplied part of Brauheim a shot if they wanted. They quickly came to the conclusion that this was the old queen’s doing, and shouted very loudly that she could do to herself some of the things One did to me which I still try to block out of memory, only with less love and more spikes.

In short, the situation is stable. With the residential district mostly empty, we’ve moved our headquarters from the royal tavern to the emerald mine where Two and Six promptly hollowed out a small cavern, their speed surprising even born miners like the dwarves.

“Queen, loremaster!” says the gasping bartender who refused to stop waiting on us as the two most important dwarves. His words, not mine, “More trouble.”

“Oh great… what now?”

“We’ve run out of water.”

“Alright, dwarf,” frowns Granite, “That’s not possible.”

“There’s no water coming out of the pipes, loremaster. That’s all I know.”

“A temporary obstruction, low pressure, or something? We’ve got electricity here. The pumps must be working.”

“Unless somepony broke those?” I take a not-so-wild guess.

“Another sabotage, you think?” Granite raises an eyebrow, “You’re quite the pessimist, queen. This indeed COULD be just some burst pipes caused by the change in temperature.”

“You know, I know you dwarves enjoy talking endlessly about absolutely insignificant stuff, but I’m getting bruises on my ass from sitting. Grab some engineers and guards, and let’s move.”

“That will not be necessary,” announces a loud voice from the mouth of the tunnel. Two dark priests in their billowing robes are pushing a bleeding and battered dwarf mare in front of them. As she approaches, she looks at us with contempt and hatred, “We have apprehended the culprit. She blew up the pipelines leading here, and the area is flooded now.”

Conveniently so that we can’t go have a look.

“That’s rather quick. we learned about the water situation only a moment ago, and you already have a scapego- I mean, culprit.”

“We’ve known about it earlier because of the intermittent storage stations for the residential district going dry first, ‘queen’,” the dark priest spits on the floor.

“Uhh, does that make sense, Hard Reset?” I look at the head engineer.

“Very much so, queen. If the main station was destroyed, the mines are the last big intermittent storage on the way,” he confirms the priest’s story.

“Alright, why?” I look at the captive mare.

“You traditionalists and supporters must suffer for how you treated mares for ages!” she growls. Come to think of it, she’s still wearing a plate mail, and she clearly hasn’t noticed Crumble sitting nearby, wearing one too, and one with decorative coating of amethyst dust on her back. I’m sure the heavy face-covering helmet has something to do with that oversight, “Resisting the true queen is halting the necessary progress!”

“Damn revolutionaries...” Granite facehoofs.

One dark priest kicks the mare who falls on the floor, and looks at me.

“Do you see how problematic the old queen is? Even your… insanity is causing less instability than her empty promises.”

“So, now we don’t have heat or water...” I mumble.

“What shall we do with the prisoner?” asks a guard.

“We’ll-” Granite opens his mouth.

“You shall do nothing,” the leading dark priest interrupts him, “For her crimes against dwarfdom, we are taking her to the enclave.”

All heads snap to him, but I quiet ‘yeah’ from somewhere, and general nodding makes it clear that if I resist, I’ll be alone this time. Losing water and heat is life-threatening to dwarves down here, and the public has rendered the mare’s judgement, which apparently won’t be pretty.

“You can silence me, but you’ll get what you deser-” the dark priest’s punch to her temple knocks her out, one of them slings her over his back, and they leave.

“What to do? What to do?” I ask the silent cave.

How can I use this to my advantage?

”Six, I’ve got a job for you,” I mentally poke the drone sitting in a dark spot at the back of the cavern.

”Yes, umm, your Maj- boss?”

”Follow the dark priests. Be careful, don’t get caught. Something’s fishy about this. If the waterworks were half as guarded as the maintenance tunnels, there’s no way some random mare got in with a bag of explosives. Either someone on the queen’s side let her in, or the dark priests are involved somehow. Dwarves don’t seem too keen on openly defying them. I doubt some of Granite’s guards let her through on our side. Those guys are freezing their balls off on guard already.”

”Will do,” he stands up, noiselessly leaving the mine.

”Hard Reset, how do you usually solve this?”

The engineer looks at me with grim expression.

“By shutting off the water before the broken point, grabbing the electric pumps, and pumping the water into reservoirs. As things stand, we’re kinda screwed.”

“How about the good old bucket technology?” I ask.

“I believe you’re vastly underestimating how much water is down there, and we can’t exactly swim so far in those conditions. We need to negotiate with the old queen to shut down the main pipeline.”

”Three, how’s your fish transformation?”

”I.. can try…?” he answers.

“Then how about we send our changeling friends to shut off the nearest pipes? That way we won’t have to deal with the queen and show her in how much trouble we are already. They might be able to swim far enough.”

”Two, stop messing around with Five. I need her here immediately.”

”Of course.”

“Okay, orders - Three and Five will accompany a team of engineers who will navigate them to the proper shutdown thingies, valves or something. After the water stops flowing, Granite will organize a bucket line to one of the emergency reservoir and we’ll see what we can do about this water problem.”

”Anything for me, boss?” asks Two.

”Not yet. I don’t want you to waste energy on manual busywork. Just keep practicing magic. How’s it going anyway?”

”Ummm… not great, really. Scream isn’t around, and I’m kinda… either sparking or conjuring up warm lights. No bolts of lightning or fire on the horizon, boss. Sorry. I’m getting better at mental commands, though, I think. Three’s not laughing at me anymore, at least.”

”Knowing him, he’s trying to make you laugh more than laugh at you.”

”I know, I know...” Two sighs, ”I just can’t help feeling like a failure.”

”As long as you keep trying, I don’t think anyone can call you a failure, just… umm… delayed success, maybe?”

She chuckles.

”Thank you, I needed that.”

”That’s what I’m here for, Two, not for spooky albeit cool green love sabers that go whoosh.”

”But those are the best part!”

”Let’s agree to disagree,” grumbles Five.

Alright, everyone knows what to do next, so it’s time to let, well, time pass.

***

Walking side by side with Two through the deserted and dark streets of Brauheim is relaxing despite the whole situation that caused the emptiness. Another day has gone by without nothing much happening. My idea of a bucket chain to empty the flooded under-underground proved a joke, so now Three’s helping bring fresh water from underground streams. Due to the amount of dwarves on the rationing system, it’s a full-time job. Scream’s still gone, Five is patrolling the demilitarized zone, and Six lost the dark priests on the way to their enclave due to them using locked hatches and shafts we can’t get into, but is trying to find some clues as to where they could really be hiding,

My ears pick up on a distant voice, and judging by the twitching of Two’s, she’s in on it too.

“Do you see where your disobedience led to? We should be united as one, grasping our history and proud future with both hooves! Now, the insane queen has driven you into the corner, and what are you doing? Listening to the new queen who is only marginally better than the old one. We should be fighting for our ways with steel and fire! Forges are our homes, steel is in our bones!” that pompous voice with zero doubt in it can’t belong to anyone but one of the dark priests, so both I and Two shapeshift into throwaway disguises, both mares so it’s less obvious there’s a problem with no armor. Unfortunately, we don’t find any suits of platemail to grab around, so we just quietly follow the voice.

As it turns out, the dark priest is speaking to a crowd filling a small plaza through which we slowly push to the front.

“The crazy new ways are making you soft, and the old queen is using it against you. You’re freezing, hungry and thirsty, and yet you cower like foals faced with devourer worms. You need to fight!”

“What would actually help,” says a voice I recognize as Crumble who walks into the empty circle around the speaking priest, “would be if you allowed the use of spider silk underclothes. I know YOU are using those, even while hiding down in your bastion with infinite energy, heat, water filters, and-”

“SILENCE!” roars the dark priest, pointing his hoof at her, “YOU are the problem of this city! Don’t you see? Your weakness is speaking, weakness brought forth by relaxing of old norms-”

“Oh SHUT UP!” Crumble turns to face the crowd, “Everyone! The new queen is trying to help, to improve our way of life, to allow you to realize your dreams. She’s not a fake populist like the old one. Your opinions and ideas are now represented by the council where you can both offer new things AND react to the change you think is wrong! Don’t let this… this OLD FART fool you! He and his kind are living in luxury while spouting this sanctimonious nonsense about YOU being weak! I would like to see one of them survive a week up here in OUR situation-”

“BE QUIET, MARE!” the dark priest walks over to her and slaps her, “We are the true blood of our ancestors, the purest of the pure. We uphold traditions. You are barely a dwarf. In fact!” the dark priest raises his hoof, “By the power vested in me by true darkness, I declare this platemail-wearing abomination a non-dwarf here and now in front of all of you!”

A gasp runs through the whole crowd, and I see Crumble start to tremble. However, she bites her lip, and scowls. When she speaks, her voice is higher and a little shaky:

“I’M TEN TIMES THE DWARF YOU ARE, YOU SPOILED GASBAG!” cocking her hoof, she punches the dark priest.

His jaw drops when he realizes what just happened, and he spits out blood.

“HERETIC!” he points his foreleg at Crumble who expects him to order others to do his job for him like always.

A loud bang resonates through the plaza, and Crumble drops on the ground, bleeding from a hole in her armor and groaning.

“The ideas of the dwarven race must be purified!” adds the dark priest.

“I’ll purify your ass so hard you’ll be begging for a lava enema!” screams Two, lunging at the dark priest as she shapeshifts back into herself, growing razor sharp claws on her forelegs.

A device on the dark priest’s foreleg clicks, and with a simple motion of his foreleg and hoof which he points at Two in the air, another blast deafens all of us, and in a shower of chitin shards, Two changes direction and drops on the floor as well.

”I’ll fuc-” growls Two mentally, showing she’s in pain but not critically hurt.

”Nope, this is a whoosh job,” for a second I’m surrounded by a veil of green fire, and then I’m towering over the dwarves while walking towards the dark priest aiming the blast weapon at me, ”Grab Crumble, and get her to the mines. Feel free to punch dwarves until someone helps if you need to.”

“The monster itself,” growls the dark priest, and flicks his hoof. I feel an impact against my chest as if Eight playfully punched me, which barely slows me down. The dwarf’s eyes go wide as he does some motions with his hoof which I think are preparing the weapon to shoot again, “S-Stay back!” With a flick of MY fetlock, a love saber very finally separates the dwarf from his weapon along with his hoof, “TRUE DWARVES, PROTECT ME!” he screams.

No one moves.

Growing claws on my foreleg, I grab him by his neck, and pull him up until he’s gasping for breath with his hind legs barely tap dancing on the floor. When I stand up on mine, carefully balancing the now openly choking dwarf, I cock my hoof burning with green fire to spear his head.

”Come on, where’s the fun in that?” Scream appears, ”This will suit way better.”

As she mentally shows me what the new shape does, my cold rage momentarily gives way to a bout of nausea.

”You’re a monster,” I whisper in disbelief.

”I didn’t invent this one, griffons did. They just use it to cut trees,” she shrugs, beaming like a lighthouse.

The clean burning blade on my hoof twists into a more circular shape with sharp teeth all around, which then start spinning around the circumference.

”Eh, it’s not as good without the motor roaring,” Scream comments, clearly disappointed.

“Wait, no- no no noAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!” the dark priest’s begging turns to high-pitched screeching as the blade of my burning chainsaw grinds through his skull until all that remains is gurgling of a dead body, and then I toss him on the ground.

The horrified dwarves around are mostly silent. Some are throwing up. Thankfully, Two is gone along with Crumble.

In front of the crowd, I shapeshift into queen Brick.

“Now you know the truth,” I say out loud, “and my offer still stands. If you want to join the old queen, return to a place of heat and water, you are free to go. I will not hold it against you. But if you stay, then let it be known that this is what’s going to happen to anyone who touches my subjects, and right now that includes both changelings and you. Stay safe, my little dwarves.”

The crowd hurriedly gets out of the way when I take a first step out after taking the priest’s weapon with me. Something that can break through dwarven platemail with ease could prove useful.

***

“You know this means war, don’t you?” says Granite when I tell him what happened, “Not even the old queen was crazy to do something like this. We can’t afford more enemies.”

“Then we need to start doing something about the ones we already have,” I rub my chin, “If we can’t win a war, sabotage like they did could help us make a deal.”

“No!” says Granite firmly.

“What?”

“Thousands of dwarves are out of their homes already, and we’re barely a quarter of Brauheim. Until now, we’ve held our own due to the faint promise to the old king that the dark priests would intervene if a full scale conflict began, but I doubt that’s the case anymore. I will not authorize an operation that would harm more civilians.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t you,” says a curious and friendly voice booming through the command center cavern. With a smile, arriving Steelback waves his hand at us. Few days ago, he left on business back to Rift and presumably to deal with the old queen as well as is his job.

“What do you mean it wasn’t us? What wasn’t us?” I ask.

“The queen is locked in the castle. Someone destroyed the main drawbridge controls, co the only way out are side hallways. The general consensus out there is that you ordered an operation and are getting ready to attack. Rumors are circulating about you being a changeling, and they’re being used to rally dwarves under the queen’s banner. Granted, stuff I heard about you here is much less a rumor and more complete, gruesome truth. What did I miss?”

“A dark priest tried to kill Crumble and Two. I sent a clear message about how bad of an idea that was,” I growl.

“Impressive, that’s the minotaur way,” Steelback nods, smiling, “Anyway, as I said, queen’s dwarves think you’re trying to eat them if you are a changeling, or oppress them again, if you are a traditionalist dwarf. I think they even caught the culprits of the drawbridge sabotage.”

“To me, it looks like somepony is attacking both sides,” says Granite.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Steelback shakes his head, “Crazy elements can be on both sides, although your conclusion is definitely a real possibility.”

“Anyway, the sabotage explain things, quee- well, I suppose there’s no reason to keep up the charade, king. It seems like the queen is making a move as well.”

“What do you mean?” spurred by Granite’s words, I transform into myself. None of the nearby dwarves bat an eyelid. Has he been slowly spreading the word about who I really was and judging the dwarves’ reactions, or did the rumors simply reach everyone already?

“Yesterday, a group of queen’s dwarves broke through one of our watch posts in the vault district.”

“Aaaand you didn’t see it fit to tell me?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Skirmishes are common, but usually no one gets too hurt and support arrives before anything happens. It was the same yesterday, although we tracked the intruding party deeper into the vault district. Nothing was stolen, and no one was really hurt, although we’re treating few cases of minor alcohol poisoning.”

I blink.

“Waaaaait, by skirmish you mean… a drinking fight?!”

“Exactly.”

“So your sentries are getting wasted daily, and anyone can go where they please afterwards?”

“They are giving their livers for the glory of Brauheim!” Granite salutes.

“You know, can’t we just declare war and solve it via one giant drinking contest?”

“That’s impossible, king,” Granite shakes his head, “We simply don’t have enough liquor. Everypony would want to get involved, and the logistics of bringing barrel after barrel while more and more dwarves fall are problematic. War is solved by steel!”

You little bastards are completely nuts. I guess that’s what no contact with the outside EVER leads to.

“Fine,” I sigh, “What did the raiding party steal?”

“Nothing, king.”

“Okay, what did they DO then?”

“Nothing really, they simply walked into one of our unlocked vaults, and then went back.”

“Nothing was stolen then?”

“No.”

“And what’s inside the vault?”

“Gold, jewels, and some sparkly dust and tiny fragments. However, according to the list of contents everything that was supposed to be in the vault is there. I think I’ve got the biggest fragment here,” he pulls out a white shard about the size coin which is full of love and emits a faint rainbow hue.

In short, it’s a piece of the cocoon I woke up in.

Hmmm…

”Two? I’ve got a job for you. Are you up for it?”

”Yessss! I mean - I’m absolutely fine, boss. The weapon barely scratched me.”

Now that’s an obvious lie, but it’s great to finally feel Two being genuinely happy. A quick remote check of her body does show she isn’t too wounded or anything.

Oh right, I completely forgot she’s been practicing magic shields all this time.

”Excellent. Go grab Five, and I want you to sneak into queen’s part of the city, and see for yourself what’s going on, especially in the dwarven castle. I could use more than Steelback’s report.”

”I’m your eyes and ears, boss!”

And Five can be the helmet on your head that you so desperately need.

***

Several hours later, a dwarf arrives, escorted by Granite’s guards. His jaw drops when he sees me in all my chitinous black and blueness in a room of chatting dwarves.

“One of queen’s loyalists, king,” the guards salute, “He says he’s bearing a message.”

“Let’s hear it,” I shrug. Chances of this being a peace offer are pretty slim, but there’s always hope. See? I’m still optimistic.

“Your recent attacks give the queen no choice. You will either abdicate and release your hold on Brauheim, or she will crush you. She tolerated the existence of you and your ancient ways, but your aggression was the last straw.”

Optimism down, send a medic!

“Your queen is insane, and you’re blind if you can’t see she’s using you!” Granite raises his voice, “King’s reasonable and discussed progress is the way to go. What your queen is advocating is- is anarchy! We will stand with a ruler who wants to rule by reason, not by force as your fake populist! Plus, she’s the one to talk after destroying our pipes and power network.”

How about someone who doesn’t want to rule at all, at least not your metal, crazy, tiny heads? I prefer my chitinous, crazy, tiny heads.

“Is that your final answer?” asks the messenger.

“We could send you back to her in a bucket,” Granite frowns. He seems to be against war at large, but eager to dish out some rough personal responsibility.

“No, lead him back and let him go. It’s not like one more dwarf on queen’s side is going to make a difference.”

”Boss, we’ve reached the castle square. It’s HUUUUUUUUGE!” I hear Two’s impressed voice. I take a peek from her eyes.

Oh… wow. It’s like outside… but on the inside…

Overall, the square is shaped like a teardrop with a gargantuan, circular abyss on the wide end. It’s not flat like all of Brauheim I’ve seen until now with small dome-like plazas. This is an enormous cavern like the one with the strange bridge and vents. Carved into the far wall is a majestic castle which looks like Canterlot from far away. Here’s where the obvious raised drawbridge problem is, because if Steelback’s information was correct, the main way to and from the castle is cut off.

What’s positively horrifying, though, is a massive army of dwarves flowing from the side streets, and gathering on the city end of the bridge. That’s a loooot of dwarves.

All of a sudden, lights go out everywhere, plunging dwarves into screaming panic.

”Two, find the nearest maintenance exit. It looks like someone’s playing the same trick on them as they did on us. I don’t believe the idea that a dwarf from our side is causing this for revenge on what she did to us. IF she did anything at all,” I add. The somewhat successful vault raiding party is still on my mind.

As the dwarves mill around, Two easily finds what she needs, spits into the lock which pops, and with Five in tow, jumps down into the maintenance tunnels. While we haven’t been in this part before, we’re fully aware how excellent Brauheim’s grid structure is for finding your way around as long as you can read dwarven street numbers. I’m absolutely certain that Two is now galloping to the local power station.

Emergency red lights turn on soon, and within minutes the two hurrying changelings find a power station with three dead dwarves lying around. She catches some flapping noise quickly disappearing, but none of us can place it. I transmit to Two what I saw the engineers do while Three and I were accompanying them.

”Yep, the same kind of damage. No chitin shards, though.”

They must have run out of the shards they gathered after our fight with Five, or they’re not trying to blame us, whoever they are.

Five noiselessly hides behind one of the strange machines. Two gives her a questioning look, but all she receives is just Five putting a hoof on her lips.

In the next moment, Two hears a sharp intake of breath.

“I had a feeling it would be you,” says Seven, stopping in his tracks, his horn glowing green.

“Funny, I thought last time it was you,” Two lowers her head, growling. Internally, though, she’s gathering her strength for a mental command strong enough to properly bind another infiltrator.

”Five, stay hidden until you can take him out for sure.”

”Don’t be to hard on Seven, please. He’s not a bad guy, although he damn sure looks like one,” says Five with warmth unheard from her before, ”But be careful, he’s supposedly pretty good with real magic.”

”If you smell a trap, break legs. I’m not risking anything,” replies Two.

”I will obey,” sighs Five, clearly unhappy with the order.

“An interesting situation we find ourselves in, isn’t it then?” Seven approaches with utmost care, “So your power outage was because of this as well, was it?”

“The boss suspects someone is playing on both sides hating each other,” says Two carefully.

“Oh, dwarves,” Seven waves his hoof dismissively, “Who cares about them? I’m more interested in you. A changeling I don’t know about in Brauheim? What do you want, little one?”

“I want to find out who’s behind this,” Two shoots his question down, “Although now that you know I’m here, I can’t really let you go.”

To my surprise, Seven doesn’t seem too disturbed.

“I already reported your existence after the last time we met. Us fighting here won’t achieve anything, although I would like to hear more about your boss.”

Seven smiles, and Two feels faint pressure inside her head.

-CHAOS!-

Seven keels over, his horn hissing out as his concentration breaks instantly. Two faintly feels a mind barely able to control the body it’s in as Seven’s legs randomly keep twitching. She steps over him, Five following soon.

“That should fuc-”

”LANGUAGE! Great command, though.”

“That should teach you to mess with me, assclown,” growls Two as she leaves for the way out.

”I know you and Five don’t want me to hurt him, boss, but now that I’ve learned how much focus it takes to do real spells, I can disable him just like that.”

”You’re terrifying in a way, Two.”

”I’m learning from Scream. Without my WW3D bracelet, I might even start chainsawing dwarf heads in half,” she sticks her tongue out at my hive mind image.

I’m starting to think Scream might be a bad influence on her. Under Chrysalis, this kind of talking back would have her crunching in the grinder before she could scream aaarhg!

Back in front of my real body, Granite pacing back and forth stops, and lays his hooves on the table.

“What to do? What to do about all this? Can we win a war?”

“Would it help if I said that queen’s part of the city just lost power too?” I cross my forelegs on my chest.

“WWWWWWHAT?!”

“Someone destroyed their secondary power station just like they did with ours, but they killed dwarven guards as well - slashing wounds as far as Two could tell. Seven arrived soon after, and he didn’t seem to know what happened.”

“Who is Seven? One of yours I don’t know about?” Granite tilts his head.

“No, one from the same group as Five and Six.”

“Do the consecutive numbers mean anything?”

“Yes.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“No.”

“Alright, friend or foe?”

“Neutral.”

“Muradin damn it, king! I need information.”

“The information is that the area around the castle is without electricity, and I doubt Seven is behind it. Queen’s army is massing in the castle square and-”

“Wait, that’s perfect!” Granite’s annoyance disappears immediately.

“Is it?”

“We’re already equipped for the darkness. All my patrols have necessary emergency equipment while they’ll either need time to suit up or will be marching blind. We can take them by surprise and break their morale!”

“You’re the soldier here, but isn’t there a way to settle this peacefully?”

“We went over this. No, there isn’t. If the queen gathered her army and put us into this position, it’s clear she doesn’t care about dwarven lives. Your politics are a happy medium between her insanity and dark priests’ rigid traditions. Dwarves will understand, but we need to take out the army sent to kill us.”

I hang my head low. This isn’t what I wanted at all. Did we cause this outcome, or would it have happened even if Two didn’t take over Brauheim in the first place?

”Wrong question, boss bug!” Scream appears again, ”The right one is what you’re going to do now. Trust me when I say that wishing for things to have happened differently only makes you stew over stuff you can’t change and overlook opportunities.”

”You know a lot for being away so often recently.”

”I heard army, war, and sabotage, so I decided to take a break and see how it turns out. I’ve got my hooves full with the world outside. To be precise, to ensure there is still a world outside in the future. Your little underground problems are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, but I understand you don’t see it that way.”

”What do you mean that the world outside is in danger?”

”Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Mommy Scream is doing her best to outsmart a god trying to destroy all life, which is something you can’t really assist with other than help me relax,” she smiles, ”So ONWARDS to bloodshed!”

Too much information while also too little information.

“Alright, Granite. Try to keep casualties to minimum. You’re the general, loremaster, head military guy or whatever so it’s your job,” I give the orders with a sigh, “But I’m coming with you. If I’m not going to do something EVER AGAIN, it is to have others fight my battles for me while I hide behind a rock somewhere.”

“King, that is-”

“Not negotiable, Granite,” I narrow my eyes, transforming into queen Brick, “Where’s my platemail?” I grab the nearest liquor bottle, and down it in one go. It never hurts to have some more firepower at hoof.

”Orders, everyone! Six, Three, stay around the hospital in case we need to evacuate. Five, protect Two. Two-”

”I’m coming with you!”

”No,” I feel her freeze on the spot as she’s walking back to the mines, ”That is an order. I will take over your body, and have you order Five to tie your legs into a pretzel if I have to. You will stay with others in the hospital. We can’t have the wounded from accidents and everything else be a target. If someone tries to come and hurt then, you’re free to try out any technique you want to any extent.”

”Yes, boss,” she nods, not daring to disobey my firm voice. This isn’t time for bullshit.

Not even an hour later, we’re split into squads communicating over the talkie boxes while sneaking through the queen’s part of the residential district towards the castle. It turns out the queen sent scouting parties our way, but something Granite said a long time ago turned out shockingly useful - WE had the equipment. Storage and vault district is completely ours, so queen’s forces, while numerous, are armed with classic melee weapons and the occasional flamethrower. Night vision goggles, smoke grenades, one-shot weapons the dwarves call rifles for long range, we’ve got everything despite the size of our army being less than fifth of the queen’s.

So, few knocked out scouting parties later, Granite taps my shoulder, whispering.

“We’ve just lost three squads, king. They encountered the queen herself, but those who got away said they don’t even know what got them. That crazy bitch is heading the army on her own with a scouting squad.”

“What do you mean by ‘they have no idea what got them’?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Apparently, they wanted to get the queen alive, so they surrounded her squad, popped smoke bombs, and suddenly they realized most of them were knocked out or dead. They saw dwarves flying in the air and heard sounds of hammer beating against steel.”

I grin, but Granite can’t have a clue why.

“Well, I guess that’s our job then. Do we know where the queen’s unit is?”

“Not too far, I’ll set up an ambush.”

Ten minutes later, we’re on a crossroad and hear synchronized sets of hoofsteps approaching from a hallway to our left. The one across from us is full of dwarves, and there’s another unit trailing the queen’s group from the back. Granite’s forward scouts have just reported that the main army still back at the castle is starting to move.

Normally, this would be an insane move from a ruler to go first.

However, I do feel Seven’s mind nearby. As silently as I can, I take all my armor off.

“What are you doing?” asks Granite.

“Trust me on this. Don’t do anything.”

The thing is... the most important thing is that Seven isn’t alone.

I step from behind a corner to face the approaching group of twenty dwarves. I don’t even need to have seen the queen to know which one she is.

Of course, the only dwarf in a warzone without a helmet. After all, why would she need one?

Well, the only TWO dwarves in a warzone without protective armor layered all over them.

In a burst of fire, I shapeshift into myself. Dwarves raise their weapons, while the queen takes a step forward, stumbling over her forelegs. Her jaw drops, and I can’t help corners of my mouth crawling up.

“So,” I force my voice under control, “How have you been, Eight?”

15: I guess she IS in this story after all.

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The queen raises her foreleg, and her combat unit stops.

“-” she opens her mouth to say something, but only unintelligible ‘ungh’ noise comes out before she closes it again. However, the heavily- do I even have to add heavily to armed and armored when talking about dwarves? No, not really. So, the dwarf wearing a gold-trimmed armor who has been walking by queen’s side says calmly:

“Tell everypony to stop fighting, don’t engage anypony, stay where they are. Any dwarf who disobeys the order will be disciplined for high treason.”

Of course, the second in command is Seven, still in disguise.

The queen’s eyes only dart away from me for a second when Granite and others surround her group, and then green fire bursts out from her, incinerating her steel armor within seconds. After the burst is over, there stands Eight, surrounded by slowly floating ash and cinders.

Gee, was she this big even before? To be accurate, she’s only a little taller than me, but where I looked in the mirror and saw a skinny, mostly normal changeling, kingship aside, Eight is, umm, rather wide… thick even. She kinda reminds me of one of the old warrior queens from the hive memories now… the one whose head she ripped off with her bare hooves, I think. Alright, that’s not a good description, because she did that to quite a lot of them.

Still, she’s Eight. The wine-red mane dropping over one eye long enough to reach her chin, the short tail, the bulky, muscular exterior, the still shocked but happy smile, and most of all - the opening hive link filled with disbelief and relief.

“Who- what- are you?!” stutters one of her dwarves.

“You heard your orders, soldier,” says Seven, “This will be explained in due time.”

“B-But-”

“The queen will explain in due time,” he repeats, voice firm, “Radio everypony that the war is NOT on, right now, or I’ll discipline you where you stand.”

Another dwarf in the back starts fiddling with a large backpack which I now know is a mobile radio station, something I until recently called a ‘big talkie box’. My squad has got one too. Which reminds me…

“Granite, order everyone to stay put and don’t fight. I think we’ve managed to avert the biggest drinking contest in dwarven history. If they disobey… say I won’t let Three hug them ever again,” I say to the suddenly snickering loremaster standing behind me and watching Eight. To his credit, he immediately relays the order to our radio dwarf. Then he walks over to me and whispers to my ear:

“You knew about her, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions she was around, yes,” I don’t bother lowering my voice, because I feel Eight’s presence inside my mind, “but I didn’t know she was the queen herself until we got close.”

Eight clears her throat, announcing:

“We surrender. Unconditionally.”

“Wh-”
“What?!”
“You can’t-”

She turns around, snarling. Her dwarves back off when faced with what to them has to be some living nightmare.

“Who did just sign up for a blowjob from their own ripped off head-”

“AHEM,” I clear my throat as well, interrupting Eight’s outburst, “If I may say something, everypony,” all dwarves look at me, “The old king you fought against is dead, and I took his place. There is no reason to fight, no reason to cause bloodshed between dwarves. We can talk about things peacefully, in the open, where everypony can hear us. Besides, you’re surrounded by dwarves who actually are kinda pissed at you for having to live without electricity and clean water for far longer than they should, so I wouldn’t push them...” I grin.

And with that, the war is over before anything regrettable ever happened.

”I...” I finally hear Eight’s voice, and realize how absolutely exhausted she sounds, ”I want to say something… something profound… something big… something that would show you how much I needed this… and I’m just babbling...”

”I love you too, Eight. Always had.”

In contrast to her physical body walking tall and firm by my side, followed by Granite, Seven, and increasing amount of dwarven soldiers as we find more and more units on our way to the castle, her hive mind image is sitting on her haunches, tears streaming down her cheeks while smiling like crazy.

”The dwarves follow you...” she says, her voice distant as if reality still hasn’t fully penetrated her head, ”And you’re not disguised...”

”Long story short, they’re actually the only species who kinda like changelings. Three helped a lot, though. He’s sort of a public relations cheat code.”

”What? Three? How? What are you talking about?”

”MISS EEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIGHT!” Three appears in the hive mind darkness, pouncing at Eight and clamping all four his legs around her chest and neck. He’s even tinier than before compared to her, ”I missed you so much and boss did too I even told Two how awesome you were and I’m really sorry I didn’t clean your litter box but that’s okay because you’re now even more awesome than before and you became the queen which is funny because boss made himself king, well technically Two did that but they sorted things out and I’m so happy you’re okay and look my body is glowing now and I can change it, I mean I was able to do that before I licked some electri-not-a-city cables and now it’s just white but I’m working on it and I’m trying to make Six learn how to do that too, but he doesn’t have a magical body so it’s harder but he’s learning and dwarves like it when he-”

Eight shoves her hoof bigger than Three’s muzzle into his mouth which doesn’t exactly stop him from mumbling into it, and only makes his excited machine gun speech even less understandable than before.

Eight looks at me.

”How?”

”Long story. I’ll explain everything after we sort out the dwarves looking at you funny. Yours for being a changeling, and mine for, well, a lot of stuff that you did.”

”Okay.”

”By the way, that mental block in Seven, Six, and Five’s heads is your doing, right?”

”Yes. It stops the clergy dwarves’ devices from detecting us, and after we discovered that other changelings might be involved down here, I added the physical protection of my venom that disallows them to communicate about their mission and related stuff in case someone got into their heads. I can’t talk to them via the hive link, though, and they have to report in person.”

”Weird, I can talk to them just fine. Five, Six, Seven!” I allow the trio to join us.

Each one of them appear around us, rather surprised at blabbering Three still glued to Eight as well as her sitting in front of myself. To my surprise, Seven only tilts his head.

“Huh, this is the first time I see you smile,” says the infiltrator.

”I guess I’m just a warrior, while you are the king,” Eight lowers her head, ”I’m your warrior.”

”And I’m glad to be your king again, Eight,” I sit down to her, and give her a hug, which shuts Three up as well. He can’t hug us both due to the size difference, but he’s happy to be sandwiched between us anyway.

In the real world, however, my ears twitch as I hear an angry, loud voice from the distance. Eight and Seven must be hearing it too, and soon will the dwarves as well.

“Let’s be quiet, everyone,” I order, and the dwarves go into sneaking mode, which for them means only slightly less noise than an avalanche made of steel pans and buckets.

In a plaza ahead, we find a dark priest standing on a small, mossy hill in its center, yelling at few gathered units of Eight’s dwarves apparently refusing to do whatever he wants them to.

“-she’s a monster! Darkness will swallow you all, if you allow this… this HERESY AGAINST DWARFDOM! STAND AND FIGHT FOR YOUR CITY, FOR YOUR LIFE, FOR YOUR TRA-”

“Did you want to say traditions?” I raise my voice to be heard. The dwarves gasp, and then they gasp again when a burning green chainsaw materializes from my raised foreleg, pointing at the dark priest. I gotta admit, it looks absolutely horrifying against the dark background of the emergency red lights.

The dark priest’s jaw drops. Apparently, news travel fast. After his eyes dart around and see no support from the gathered dwarves, he stutters out:

“Y-You wouldn’t...” then his brain finally realizes that I have absolutely no qualms with getting creative, and he legs it, his brown robe flapping behind him.

On our way to the castle square, we reunite with Eight’s army, and our groups carefully join us as well, still paranoid about being vastly outnumbered. Soon enough, hoof-held lanterns and flashlights make the positively massive plaza light up like the night sky. Apparently, the place has been used for public speaking, because in its center stands a raised, circular, stone podium onto which Eight walk via a short set of stairs. With her size, she must be visible from everywhere, although from the back lines of the thousands of gathered dwarves she still must look only like a bigger dot.

We’re standing on the steps under her, and by ‘we’ I mean Granite, Seven, and myself. With the electricity out, Eight burns a little love to power her vocal chords.

“CITIZENS OF BRAUHEIM!” the front lines of dwarves slam their forelegs against their ears. Eight lowers her voice a little, “I have met with the king, and it turns out our situation has changed!”

“Who are you?” yells a random dwarf.

“WHAT are you?” adds another one.

“I suppose I should start with that,” Eight glares at the crowd of thousands, “I am a changeling, and I was posing as your queen for over a year.”

Aaaand here goes the crowd’s gasping, mumbling, and whispering. Eight ignores it.

“I could explain why I did what I did, but what would it change? Most of you follow me because you wanted freedom to choose between liberty and tradition, and I delivered. The old king wanted to discard any ideas about progress or change, and you knew it. Together, we stood up against the dark priests, and refused the king’s rule. However, those too set in their ways followed him, and our- your city split into two warring tribes, leaving families and friends separated over ideology. Now, the old king is dead, and the new one is willing to cooperate and compromise on reasonable change.”

I walk up the stairs to join Eight.

“ANOTHER change-thing?!” more dwarves gasp and yell.

I raise my own voice.

“Changeling, and yes. I won my position fair and square through your drinking rite, and for the past few days, I’ve been learning about your culture, and most of all - your division. I know you, who followed Eight through the schism, wanted to breathe freely, but the situation on my side of the barricade wasn’t as different as you thought. Most of my time here was spent on balancing your desire to remain dwarves with change and progress that would benefit you and not harm anypony. And the change I want now is peace in Brauheim. Let’s stop fighting, sit down to the table, and talk.”

“We don’t want any chonglangs to rule us!” someone voices their very loud opinion, but to my surprise they’re shushed by the nearest dwarves.

“That suits us just fine,” I answer, “I have gathered a council of dwarves who know Brauheim better than I do, and their job is to discuss change and the direction of the city. They are representatives of miners, military, social services, engineers, farmers, and more. They assess ideas about improvement you, citizens, offer. It worked well in my part of the city, and this council of senior dwarves should serve everyone as well.”

“Yeah, council of traditionalist assholes who supported YOU- I mean the old king!”

Two individuals basically screaming at each other, I hope that doesn’t become the norm.

“As I said, dwarves you trust from your community should join the council as well. They will have final say in which ideas pass and which get thrown away. I am not a supreme ruler, and I don’t want to be. To be honest, I just want the few changelings around to find home here with you. This is my offer. I want peace, and the council idea is my proposal for your future. Dwarves who supported me know it works.”

Groups within the crowd start talking, but overall it looks like we’re not about to be torn apart by thousands of dwarves. I call that a victory, if ever I saw one.

Eight clears her throat, silencing everyone again.

“My goal is peace. Just like the king here, I am willing to either release some of my power, or step down completely in favor of the council idea.”

To my surprise, quite a lot of voices from everywhere call out ‘No!’. That makes me smile.

Eight’s voice grows quieter.

“We will talk about everything, as is our- your way. For tonight, go home, don’t fight, and have a good rest.”

“Now this is something I don’t need a council for,” I chuckle, adding my two bits to Eight’s order, “Let’s go home. There will be no civil war this time. If someone still wants to cause trouble, you’re free to have a go at me or the queen. Don’t fight among yourselves.”

The crowd begins dispersing. Dwarves give each other cautious looks, stay away from those in different armors, but we don’t spot any unrest. Lawful little buckets, I admit.

Behind me, Granite coughs.

“We won’t ignore the damage your sabotage caused,” he looks at Eight who just glances my way.

“Later, Granite,” I nod, “Fixing stuff first, bitching about what happened later. And don’t even think about any high-treason punishment talk, or we won’t be friends anymore. I will protect Eight with my life if I have to.”

Granite furrows his brows.

“Then we will… talk, as is the dwarf way.”

***

We’re finally inside the castle, and it looks far more like something built by whoever is responsible for that huuuuge bridge I saw first rather than for the rest of the flat dwarven city. Its hallways are tall, completely impractical for dwarves, red and gold carpets line the floors everywhere, and it’s well-lit, unlike the rest of Brauheim. Everyone is gone, having left to see friends, family, or their old houses, so it’s just me, Granite, Seven, and Eight leading the way, although from the confident faces of everyone it seems that I’m the only one who needs the guidance.

Suddenly, Granite lets out a long breath.

“I didn’t think I’d see this place again, really. The good old royal tavern served its purpose, but this place… none of you can understand what this place means to us dwarves. Home, bastion of safety, light in the darkness, the last fortress of our ancestors. The heart of Brauheim,” his smile is genuine, finally easy to see due to his helmet dangling on a strap around his neck, “But alas, as always, there’s something to do before we can relax, and this time it’s… talking about the sabotages. I know the king’s position, but threatening the lives of so many dwarves by cutting them off from water and electricity… that’s a crime of inequine proportions. Vaults, homes, all services. Dwarves will want justice-”

“You’re the one to talk, really,” Eight shrugs, not exactly disturbed, “after cutting off the part of Brauheim that’s twice bigger than yours.”

“We didn’t do anything, Eight,” I say. She doesn’t even say ‘really?’, she immediately accepts it.

“Look, I didn’t want to do it either. Not that I really care about you dwarves, but it simply didn’t cross my mind. I’m not much of a technical changeling, that’s more on Seven here, and even he’s interested in magic rather than technology. One of the dark priests contacted him with the idea of a blackout, and, you must understand, my goal hasn’t changed since I came here - to keep boss safe. You see, when I found this place, I had no intention of messing with you at all. I just stashed boss’ cocoon in the air vents, then I found a minotaur regularly taking trips to the surface alone, so I took him out and used as food.”

“You’ll be apologizing to him later too,” I wink at her, “Steelback’s been of great help.”

“As you wish,” she nods, “Where was I? Right. I kept the minotaur and the cocoon separate, just in case I underestimated him, he woke up, and tried to damage it. Unfortunately, one day after I returned from scouting mines and this city, the cocoon was gone. I was desperate, because while I could sniff out whoever took it into the city, there was no way I could follow the trail. After days of scouting around, I had nothing, and I realized I needed help.”

“Crumble,” I say. She nods.

“I took her to the minotaur, and bred her until I had a drone, an infiltrator, and a spare warrior.”

Ohhhh boy, where Two came from will be a surprise even to her.

“With Seven’s help, I managed to find out that the dwarven king discovered a strange, massive, and possibly magical rainbow gem. I needed to get it back, obviously. Over time, I managed to lure out the queen, and replace her.”

“Where is she now?” asks Granite, “In a cocoon somewhere?”

“Do… I have to answer that?” Eight asks me.

“Since we’re showing our cards here, yes,” I now.

“No, I didn’t keep her for food. With the cocoon gone, I couldn’t be sure whether someone would find her. I threw her into a magma stream.”

Granite looks away, gritting his teeth. Eight keeps going with her story.

“Seven took his place as my guard, and gradually managed to find where the king stashed boss’ cocoon. Unfortunately, the king learned about his effort, and put the vault where it was under complete lockdown. I needed more authority and power to gain access to it. Six and Seven did a great job finding a rift between the progressive and traditionalist dwarves, I played on their desire for change, and you know the rest. When the dark priests showed us the option of completely disabling electricity in the vault district, thus opening all security doors, I jumped on it. Unfortunately, the unit I sent to recover your cocoon found the vault empty.”

“But why did you have to endanger the dwarves? Why cut off the residential district as well?” asks Granite.

“We didn’t do anything like that. Seven with one dark priest led a group from my side of Brauheim to the vault power station. We didn’t touch the residential district.”

“Can I trust her word?” Granite turns to me.

“Yes, you can,” I answer with absolute certainty. It’s good that while Granite isn’t too big on Eight for what she did to his city, he’s still on my side.

“Then someone else must have cut it at exactly the same time,” he growls, “and in the same way.”

Eight shrugs.

“Seven reported that the dark priest destroyed the station. Neither he nor the dwarf soldiers I sent knew how it worked, and he didn’t want engineers around. That was the only operation I ordered.”

“Is it possible that the clergy wanted the dwarves desperate enough to be controlled into a fight? That they cut the water as well, then messed with Eight’s dwarves?”

Granite glares into the empty hallway as we walk.

“Engineers would immediately report any ancient machinery being destroyed in such way, even if a dark priest ordered them to stay quiet. They positively love those things. Dark priests don’t care, they have the original blueprints deep in their enclave. And you said that dark priests tried to cause unrest in our part of the city, making dwarves attack the queen’s forces when it proved that we were standing firmly behind you,” he facehoofs, “...and we fell for it completely. If… Eight here wasn’t the queen, or if you two didn’t know each other, streets of the city would be running with dwarven blood. You were against the attack, king. I and the council were for it,” he hangs his head low.

“Cheer up, Granite,” I pat his back, “It’s time to rebuild everything, not to dwell on what happened. BUT… there’s something you can do to help avoid further problems.”

“And that is?”

“Spread the news that the dark priests are behind the sabotages, that they wanted the civil war. Then tell Hard Reset to grab everyone smart technology-wise that he can find. Brauheim is united now, hopefully, and that means we have access to all the city’s resources, not just supplies from the vaults and the few mines we had before. Use forges, use supplies, mine what you don’t have, use engineers. FIX everything.”

He salutes, and trots off as fast as the heavy armor allows.

Finally, I can wipe my forehead, take a deep breath, and rela-

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUU!”

What NOW?!

A blazing, green, changeling-sized projectile comes from behind a corner, flying at meteoric speed straight towards us.

Correction, towards Eight.

Before I can react, the ball of green fire is here. With a simple flick of her foreleg, Eight deflects it into the wall, revealing the form of Two bouncing off, skipping and rolling away in a cloud of chitin shards and dust.

”Eight, be careful with her.”

”I sensed you didn’t want me to punch it away, so I just did this. Good, otherwise she’d be the new paint job on this place.”

Two, snarling and growling, gathers herself and charges at Eight who shoves the approaching changeling to the side, making her lose balance again. Seeing that the already recovering Two is less than zero threat to her, she simply raises an eyebrow.

“Two-” I open my mouth.

“YOU LEFT ME TO DIE, TO ROT INSIDE A PONY!” powerless Two screams into Eight’s face.

Unfortunately, Eight chooses possibly the worst thing to say right now:

“And you are?”

“I AM TWO, AND YOU-”

-WILL SUFFER!-

I feel the lash of the mental command aimed at Eight, who…

...doesn’t flinch or react in the slightest.

“My mind and body belong only to the boss,” she says simply, “Neither Chrysalis nor One herself could affect me at this point. Don’t even try.”

-SUFFER!-

-HURT!-

-SCREAM!-

“Do I do something?” Eight glances my way.

“Two, stop it,” I say, trying to be as soothing as I can. Oh screw it, I sit down and hug the now crying infiltrator. She bites me, then looks at me with horror as she realizes what she just did. I hug her tighter, “Hatred will only hurt you in the long run. I’ll tell you the story about ancient hive rulers one day.”

“I-I-I wouldn’t even b-be here if- if she had her w-way...”

I pat her head, running my hoof through her carpet-y mane.

“But you are here. I am here. Eight is here. We’re all here.”

”Eight, say something. I’m not going to tell you to apologize, Two is smart enough to know it wouldn’t be genuine, but say something.”

Eight towers above us, but as she tries to touch Two’s ear, the small changeling snarls and bares her tiny fangs at her.

Don’t you dare touch me!-

Eight takes a breath.

“Two, you were a tool like Five, Six, and Seven. A tool to help me save the boss. I did what I had to when plans changed. I thought I had to act fast, and with all that was happening I completely forgot about my old base. I would do it again if I were in the same situation. What I did, based on what I knew, was the right choice. However, your success when faced with my changelings is certainly… admirable.”

Scowling Two adds a pout to her expression of complete disdain for Eight.

“I belong to the boss, not to you, no matter what hole of yours my egg came from. I belong ONLY to the boss.”

To my surprise, Eight smiles at both of us. There’s nothing in it than pure joy and relief.

“And finally, after all that happened, we all do once again.”

16: New Beginning.

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Where to begin? Did I already say that? Probably.

It’s day two of reunited Brauheim or, let’s say, hour twenty. We didn’t get any sleep tonight, because there was way too much to argue about. Obviously, during the year of Eight’s rule, the social structure changed a lot, important posts in society previously held by king’s loyalists like Granite were given to someone else. In general, most of my supporting council found themselves fighting with their counterparts from Eight’s part of the city. Granted, those weren’t on any council or anything, but seemed experts in their field as well. For most positions, it wasn’t that big of an issue, but Granite’s military had to sort out the crucial chain of command. Thankfully, professional soldiers are a lawful lot, and the return of their loremaster and previous commander didn’t cause as big of a rift in the army as I thought it would.

Anyway, today was full of everything that needed to officially be sorted out on the side of me and Eight as well. Hard Reset’s engineers now had access to the public broadcasting system, and with the help of Eight’s guys they jury-rigged it, connecting it to the emergency power network as it SHOULD HAVE FREAKING BEEN THE CASE FROM THE START.

No, seriously, that was my last direct order. Screw the council! Not doing that was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen before, and I’ve lived in the hive under Chrysalis. Not for too long, but still.

Like what the hole? Everything blows up, and you can’t even tell anyone what’s happening. THAT’S SO STUUUUUPID!

Alright, I’m calming down now, I swear.

So, over the now powered city-wide broadcast, Eight and I announced the formation of the dwarven council, explained its purpose, and Eight relinquished big part of her power and responsibility like I did before. Afterwards came the hard part, which was stopping the council from throwing the entire military at Eight for killing the old queen, splitting Brauheim, and overall being absolutely unapologetic about everything she did. In the end, they decided that Eight would have to work to make it up to the city, although they didn’t know how yet. I think they weren’t persuaded by my arguments about justice not being revenge and stuff, but just because they owed me for reuniting the city, and kicking the dark priests’ oppressive rule out. Well, they will learn just like I did what a blessing it is to have Eight on their side. I mean, Eight on my side, and me on theirs. Which could quickly change if they tried something radical against any of my changelings.

Aaaaah, threats. I never knew how effective those could be if used sparingly.

In short, everyone understood that having changelings as enemies would be an extremely bad idea, and that no one really wants more trouble, because it would hurt us as well.

And then it was over. Council went about their business, leaving Eight and me free to just walk around through the deep, crimson shadows of the barely lit city. There’s pretty much no one around, because the only parts of the city with electricity are the mines now, which suits us just fine.

Finally, after everything - peace.

Eight is silent, strolling lazily by my side, and I can feel her still not completely believing what’s happening.

“So, Eight, what do we do now? I must admit, now that everything is okay, dwarves know who we are, no one is hunting us, and we’re all together… it’s as if the coiled spring pushing me forward finally gave out.”

“I don’t want this to end,” she whispers.

“We’ve barely started.”

“I’m afraid I’ll wake up, and I’ll still be looking for your cocoon, worried sick that one of those four-legged metal buckets tried to cut it as if it was a big diamond.”

“They DO look as if someone tried to douse a forest fire and fight off an invasion at the same time, don’t they?” I chuckle.

“Liquor, weapons, armor, nothing else,” Eight shakes her head, “In a way, I envy them.”

“You mean as opposed to hunt, drain, flee like our lives used to be?” I lean my head against her neck as we walk, “No, there’s way more to it, but I don’t want to spend all my time trying to understand them. I want to understand what makes US happy, and make sure we can get it.”

“It’s still the same, my love. Which is exactly what it is - love. I haven’t had real love in years. Ever since I ran off from Las Pegasus. Venom, hypnosis, lust, adoration… everything but love. Even now, it’s different between us than it was before, I can feel it. It’s as if… as if a roaring bonfire that fueled me was just a small heater I have to touch to feel warm in a blizzard. I feel… feral. As if I could only rely on myself, as if I was under Chrysalis again. Even with you around now, I feel so cold and alone. It’s not as bad as before, but I’m still shaking inside.”

“I think Two unwittingly gave you the answer to this, Eight. Or you did in what you told her.”

“Hmm, the angry little one? What did I say?”

“That for you, she and the others were just tools to get to me. To me, it makes sense that you felt alone if you thought of them only like that. No one to talk to, no one to share concerns with, just barking orders all the time. That’s no way to live. The warmth I feel inside is from all of you.”

“I thought that with each day, my time was running out. What if you woke up and fled? I would never find your trail again. What if the dwarves broke the cocoon? What if One’s attempt at your rebirth failed from the start? What if you’ve been killed already?”

“The answer is simple, Eight. If you believe in what I want for all of us, then continue my dream, do what Chrysalis failed to do. You acted just like she would.”

“That’s all I know, boss.”

“Come on, we’ve been together long enough. I know you’re better than that. You loved Four, you like Three. Hole, you were friends with One.”

“Frienemies?”

“Friends, Eight.”

“Boss, you don’t understand, I think. Look at every changeling around. None of them think the way you do. Well, maybe Three. No, definitely Three. It’s different from our hive before, and it’s different because of you. We naturally aren’t individuals, you know our history. You’ve had the dead assholes in your head. Every hive needs a leader. I’m not a leader, and you can see who my changelings are - a solitary nerd, a… a… flower pot, and a drone who’s scared I’ll squash him if he looks at me without authorization.”

“You DID send the flower pot,” I snicker, “to kill him.”

She looks away, blushing.

“What I’m trying to say is that some things are your responsibility as the boss. I’m not trying to make excuses for my failure, I’m just saying that you’re better at… at… ruling than any of us. I can be the iron hoof, but you can be the stern voice as well as the warm hug. I can punch things so hard they evaporate, you can keep us together tighter than any molecular bond. Don’t try to make us changelings into what we simply aren’t. Make us the best versions of what we can be. You remember Wistful. He did his best for the betterment of both flutterponies and later changelings. The queens who came after made us monsters on the inside… as much as Celestia did on the outside.”

I sigh. I don’t agree completely, but there is something to what she’s saying.

”How’s everyone? Any problem with Eight’s dwarves since we’re undisguised?”

Link after link lights up, and the darkness of the hive mind lights up with brighter echoes of everyone listening. Their images collectively shrug, so there doesn’t seem to be anything that would need my attention other than Two frowning whenever she lays her eyes on Eight. Come to think of it, Scream has been away through all this, so I don’t have to explain her yet, which is good, because I don’t know how I would do it.

”Since we’re not fighting each other anymore, I just want to know a little bit about you, Five, Six, Seven,” I could, of course, access their memories now that Eight had time to remove her block, but it wouldn’t be the same. I’ll have time to really get to know them later, but for now I need to know who I’m working with in case of expected unexpected trouble. Am I paranoid? No, ”Nothing big, just a basic assessment on who you are and what you can do.”

I was expecting one of ‘mine’, maybe Five with her sense of duty to speak up first, but it’s Seven who answers:

”I’m Seven, queen’s- Eight’s first subordinate.”

”I needed someone with at least basic infiltrator instincts to help me quickly gauge the state of Brauheim when I lost you,” Eight interrupts him, ”Anyway, keep going.”

”I’m an infiltrator, king. You know what infiltrators do,” he glances at Two, ”And sadly, I was bested by your infiltrator before. However, I can offer you magic, which I know for sure she can’t, not consistently and to the extent as I can at least. To be completely honest...” he pauses for a moment, ”I’m not exactly comfortable mingling with ponies too much. Even during my service to Eight, I was more the distant dwarven commander than one of them. I can gather information, don’t get me wrong, but I prefer studying arcane arts in the castle library.”

”He’s near-useless at gaining love,” comments Eight, making Seven hang his head, ”but he’s good at planning. I guess that’s what happens when someone like me tries to make an infiltrator.”

”Don’t be too hard on yourself, either of you. Eight, you made Four, and she turned out amazing. And you, Seven, you helped Eight control an entire city. However, an infiltrator who can’t feed himself just won’t do. We can’t have you starve or poison yourself on lust in case you get separated. Alright, note to self - Seven will be able to feed himself even without disguise like everyone else.”

He stares at me, hesitates, then slowly nods.

”And without magic,” I grin.

”Damn it!” he punches the ‘ground’, then puts his hoof into his mouth and sucks on it, ”Ouch. But I’m just not likable! I tried, I swear.”

”Don’t give me the puppy eyes. I’ve been eyed by Three, and he can make a chitin rot plague apologize, rethink its life choices, and do community work.”

”That makes no sense...”

”Three, tell him to give it a shot.”

”Umm, Seven,” Three looks up at the bigger infiltrator, pleading eyes ready at full power, ”Boss means well, and I know you can find a nice mare or a stallion who would like you the way you are, you just have to give them a chance to approach you-”

”Stop! STOP!” Seven looks away, ”Hole, this should be banned by some international treaty. You could have just ordered me to do it, geez.”

I hoofbump now grinning Three.

”Yeah, but my way actually works,” I raise an eyebrow. Seven pouts, crossing his forelegs on his chest.

”Between Eight and this weapon of mass heart attack, I’m surprised you’re not ruling the world already.”

”Believe it or not, there are ponies immune to Three’s charm.”

”...monsters...” whispers Seven, ”Anyway, that’s about it, really. I guess I should find a book on seducing dwarves or something rather than spells now. Hmm, can I summon something to love me?”

”No cheating! But if you DO find a way, let me know. And thanks for your honesty,” I turn towards Five, ”Five, what about you?”

I don’t have the heart to tell Seven that thousands of years of changeling history quite likely proved his goal impossible.

”I don’t love Seven either,” she says with a smirk.

”I’m no seduction artist, but even I think I can do better than a statue,” he shoots back without any apparent rancor.

”Hey, Five’s no statue!” objects Six ”She’s just a little rigid. Oops...”

”Just like you when she walks in front,” sneers Seven.

Six, as a drone, doesn’t exactly have the right bits for that unless he shapeshifts, but point taken.

”Oh my, have I underestimated the intensity of your feelings, Six?” Five turns towards the drone, and glares straight into his eyes.

”I, umm, well, we- I- me, umm...”

”You know, Six, I won’t let her rip your head off, but if you can’t talk to her, this won’t get anywhere,” I can’t help butting in to assist the distressed drone. It doesn’t work as planned.

”Exactly, little drone,” Five leans directly to Six, her fangs almost touching his nose twitching under her breath, ”Tell me what you want to do to me. To the last… little… dirty… detail.”

Six is trembling, his blue eyes open wide when faced with the predatory glare of Five. I’m not exactly sure what to do about this. Telling either of them to leave it wouldn’t help, I’m sure.

Three shuffles over and pokes Six. Then he pokes him few more times.

”I- I like you, Five,” he stutters, then takes a deep breath, ”I want to hold your hoof when you’re alone in silence, simply standing guard wherever Eight, boss, or Two tell you. When you’re asleep, I want to curl next to you so that you’re not cold, and when you’re hungry like now, I want to give you all my love so that you’re full and happy. And maybe… well… Three told me that boss and Eight used to love each other so much that they could stay fed just together. I want us to be like that too.”

Sometimes, the simple solution is the best of the worst ones.

”Warriors need to be tamed, drone,” she snaps her sharp jaws at him, ”Power, control, dominance, that’s what we need. Can you hold my head down while you rut me, runt? Can you pound me until my legs turn to jelly? Do you have the power of personality, body, and mind to make me obey?” she fakes a snarling lunge forward, making Six yelp and fall backwards, ”You don’t, so don’t bother trying.”

But… words are cheap, and we changelings know far too well how little they can mean. Trust isn’t something we’re born with, that’s either forced obedience, or paranoia. Eight said not to try to change what we changelings are, but in this regard, I will do all I can to prove her wrong.

However, something about Five’s… theatrics feels off. Yes, that’s it - there’s more to this, I’m sure. Five’s link is filled with disappointment, so my mental whisper to him is quiet, and most of all - absolutely private:

”Don’t STOP trying.”

”But she… she hates me...”

”Did I just hear you contradict a direct order?” I raise an eyebrow.

”N- No, boss,” he can’t stop the corner of his mouth curling up ever so slightly.

Within the hive mind conversation between everyone, he rolls over back on his haunches, and hugs Five’s leg. She tries to shake him off, but is too surprised to put too much strength into it.

”I might not have the power of power, Five, but I’ve got the power of huuuuuuugs!” he yells.

”He’s learning!” cheers Three, ”Yay!”

”You’ve trained me well, send pie,” Six resists the increasing intensity of Five’s waving as long as he can, but eventually she manages to shake him off.

Five points her foreleg at him, narrowing her eyes.

”And stay down, I’m giving a report,” as if nothing happened, she faces me, a string of green drool making its way down her leg from where Six had to use his mouth to keep ahold of her, ”A-hem! I am a warrior. My role is to serve the hive and protect everyone. That’s all. Now that our goals aren’t in conflict, I have no reason to hurt Six unless he tries to slobber all over me again. As far as Two’s control over me goes… you know I can’t do anything about that, but considering we’re all on the same side now, I am content with the state of affairs. Just sit me in the right spot, and tell me to guard. I belong to you.”

Yep, just like Nine used to be. By which I mean, Nine was born in a hive where rules like that were the norm. So…

...she’s TRYING to be like Nine used to be. Instinct? Possibly.

”I’m calling you Flower Pot, and don’t say that belonging thing in front of Eight too much, she might think she’s got competition,” I chuckle, and few more mouths wibble in understanding, trying not to snicker, ”Six, what about you?”

”I’m not calling her Flower Pot unless she wants me to,” this time when Five’s head snaps towards him, he just sticks out his tongue, ”Anyway, what do you want to know, really? You know me. I’m a drone, I like digging, I like Five, as you might have noticed from my subtle hints, and I’m reasonably effective at seduction.”

”I must have missed that part,” Five whistles innocently after taking a jab at him.

”I’ve got few disguises the dwarves know, and it doesn’t take me long to craft new ones along with plausible backstories. I was, umm, kinda responsible for our love supply here. Eight is excellent at getting lust and even some love, don’t get me wrong, but neither Seven nor Five are exactly… social. Disguised or not.”

Trust me. Last time we did a big hunt for love, I noticed.

”It’s funny that your best love gatherer is a drone, Eight,” I nuzzle Eight’s neck. Thiiiick.

”Guess who turned the old practical me into someone who wouldn’t scrub a changeling’s personality in order to make them more effective at their natural role, hmm?”

Well, while this wasn’t a waste of time, it turned out to be pretty far from what I wanted. The fact that I don’t know what I really wanted from this probably helped.

So, Seven needs to go out more. As much as I’d like a magic… expert, he’s an infiltrator who needs others to feed, that won’t do.

Five… basically Nine, but without the ‘irresistible to ladies’ part, although that could have been the dragonpony disguise. I should send her out as well. Heh, Flower Pot. Unlike Nine, she’s trying to appear stoic, emotionless, and tough, but she isn’t, and it’s not difficult to lure it out of her.

Six. Well, hard to summarize, really. He appears to be a normal, healthy individual. We must be doing something right with him.

”Thanks, everyone, for this. Dismissed.”

The mental links solidify as we bind tighter into one hive, and weaken when everyone stops listening. One remains, though, and it’s not the one I expected.

”Is anything wrong, Two?”

”I can’t stop thinking about… about HER saying I was just a tool, boss. I know it shouldn’t bother me at all. I’m yours, not hers, but… I don’t know… I’m being stupid, and I can’t help it.”

”Two, that’s just how it was in the old hive. All changelings were tools of the queen, no exceptions. Orders were absolute. If a higher rank was hungry, you were food. If they told you to jump on a Badlands scorpion and see how long you can ride it, you knew it was the last rodeo of your life, but it was that or the grinder. I wanted to change it, I WANT to change it, but I suppose I left too little of a mark on Eight, and her instinct won when she was pushed into a corner,” I sigh, ”I know you don’t like her, and I know that forgiving her might not even be an option right now, but I love her. What’s between us is shared experience, hopes, fears… we’re one soul in two bodies, and while we’ve drifted apart a little while I was gone, it doesn’t change anything,” I hug the little critter, ”And I love you, respect you, and care about you too, Two. You’re my changeling, and while you’re not my egg, you’re my filly.”

”And what if at some point you have to choose between losing me or losing… her?”

”Then I would choose me, because I will do everything until my body and mind break to have you both.”

”I love you… dad.”

”I love you too, Two. Don’t worry so much, and just do your best. That’s all we can do.”

Then, even her image disappears, and her link closes. I find myself walking side by side through dark Brauheim with Eight again.

“Come to think about it, there’s one changeling from ‘the other side’ I didn’t ask about them,” I press my side against hers, “So, Eight, how can I help you as the good and benevolent changeling king that I am?”

“You know, as happy as I am to simply have you here again, there is something. Our mind link is wrong.”

“Huh?” it takes me a while to understand what she means, “You’re right!”

Before, we really were one mind in two bodies, it wasn’t just a metaphor I told Two to illustrate what I feel to Eight. Now, we’re just like everyone else, two changelings linked together through the hive mind.

“We used to be so much more,” she smiles, “And we will grow to be again. No rush, no rush. I was just telling you what I wanted down the line, boss.”

No rush.

“You know, I haven’t asked how you ended up here in any detail, Eight.”

She shrugs.

“It’s a long and not really interesting story, boss. Overall, I stuck to how changelings survived until today, trying not to think about… about… about the last thing I felt from you.”

Oh shit. I was right. Such a strong feeling of guilt and self-hate, that it made an imprint even on Two so many years later.

“I’m sorry, Eight. I still believe that you and One made the wrong choice, that you two together could have stopped Star Trail, but I shouldn’t have thought of you as a traitor.”

“Boss, this way it’s my fault that everyone is dead. I am a traitor, if not only to you, then to Four, One, and Ten,” she sniffles, looking at the floor.

Hmm? Oh. OH!

“Eight,” I give her a light peck on the cheek, “Neither Ten nor Four died, or at least not in Las Pegasus.”

“Wh- What? What do you mean?” she stops, now staring at me, her beautiful green eyes speckled with tears wide open.

“That paladin Four saved in the castle from One, Bright Star, was on our side. He caught up with Ten and told him to get to Canterlot in hopes of stopping Star Trail from hunting us forever. I think he wanted him to do the trial thing that was going on at the time. Then he arrived in our hideout in time to save wounded Four and carry her away. I don’t know what happened afterwards, sorry. I passed out in the cocoon and woke up here.”

Aaand now Eight’s crushing my ribs in a bear hug while sniffling into my ear. Do we changelings even have ribs? I mean, we have exoskeletons, but we used to be ponies, so… how does that work? Do we have both? Anyway, whatever we have, it’s now creaking and approaching a breaking point. I try to groan to stop her from squeezing me from my carapace like toothpaste.

“And… and how… how did you get here… then…? Urrrgh...”

She lets me go, and feeling returns to my legs. Thick and strong, just as I like ‘em. Heheh. My Eight. Sorry, One. Rest in peace.

Eight gathers herself, and we resume walking.

“I just ran north disguised as Black Rose, only telekinesis keeping you on my back. Every time I spotted a village, I spent a day or two there to refill. I overdosed on lust too many times to count, but I burned through it fast enough as I was fleeing so it only made me sick. I didn’t dare take a train or anything that would leave a paper trail so that the paladins wouldn’t track us like they must have from the old castle. After weeks, I found a big city called Vanhoover, in the northwest civilized corner of Equestria. I hid there, resolved to stay until you woke up. For over a year, everything was okay, but then I felt someone tracking me. Nothing I did, no ponies I ever talked to said anything about someone asking for me. I couldn’t find a trace, but I KNEW someone was after me, and they were close, so I packed my bags and left. I was pretty well settled at that point, so I had escape routes planned and ready. Sometimes I thought I was paranoid, but after I left, I knew I hadn’t been,” she shakes her head, “Well, later I hid in a frozen cave even further north. When I was sure no harm would come to you, I stashed your cocoon in its depths, and started hunting in the villages scattered in the snow, pretending to be a travelling trader. I had more than enough money from my stay in Vanhoover,” she takes a quick break, and scratches her head, “I’m not exactly sure what happened next, but suddenly the snow was all gone, and there were buildings and spires made of crystal everywhere. Literally from day to day - nothing, then poof, a city state as big as Brauheim. It took me weeks to find in which cellar you were in the new landscape. The city state is called the Crystal Empire, and it’s few days south from here, actually. Three would like it there, the ponies look as if they’re made of crystal - really shiny. For some reason, I didn’t feel hungry at all there while trying to find you again. There’s a pervasive aura in the city… something similar to what Three used to have around him before… Star Trail happened.”

I pat her back.

“He still has it, it’s like a little sun. You’ll see when you meet him again up close. I know exactly what you mean. Are you saying it’s like that in the whole city? Sounds like a changeling paradise.”

If it’s as close as Eight’s saying, I should send someone to see what it’s all about when situation calms down here.

“Far from it. There was something like a heavy lingering shadow of danger around the place, so I wasn’t eager to stay there longer than I had to. The ponies there had something locked in their minds, a block I couldn’t get through, and something powerful and horrifying was behind it. I fled north again, and hunted minotaurs in the frozen wastes for who knows how long. Unfortunately, one day I found a really weird unicorn dragging himself through the snow, with wounds no one should survive, and yet he wouldn’t die no matter what. I took him to one of the less hostile minotaur tribes, which bit me in the ass, because, believe it or not, he got better, and under his leadership that tribe conquered everyone else, and built a minotaur city in a split mountain right above us. Dark Prophet, they call him now, but as far as I know, he’s gone, and they’re ruled by a warlord by the name Darkhorn.”

“That city is Rift, right?”

“Yeah, that was pretty recently - two years maybe? Time lost meaning for me a long, heh, time ago. Well, hunting in their tightly-knit community was difficult, but from the few clues I gained from the minotaur heads I think the Dark Prophet knew who I was, and I was allowed to stay and hunt as long as I didn’t cause damage. Unfortunately, after his disappearance, feeding became more difficult, but I got to know that the minotaurs were beginning to trade with dwarves here in Brauheim. I was afraid for your cocoon, so I hid it in the air shafts, and you know the rest. King found it, I bred more changelings, and the old queen had an ‘accident’.”

I stop Eight, and hug her, finally fully realizing that what was a short, dark sleep for me was an unending nightmare of fear for her. Her cold and hard carapace softens up in response, and starts letting out soft warmth.

I know Eight said there was no need to rush anything, and there really isn’t. On the other hole that needs filling, it’s not as if we should delay anything.

“Let’s head back to the castle, Eight, shall we? We can start retracing our steps towards becoming one from there.”

She blinks, tilts her head, and gives me a confused look.

“Step one - are there any deep and soundproof cellars?” I grin at her.

Meekly lowering her head, she simply follows me back to the castle. Several streets later, she chuckles out of nowhere.

“Here I was, spinning a plan to get your cocoon back, and you got out on your own, defeated my changelings, earned more respect from dwarves in few days than I did in over a year of infiltration, and toppled my rule. I’m just a silly warrior dreaming too big, my love. I hope you still want me with all my flaws.”

What do you think, dummy?

17: Almost a peaceful moment

View Online

“I am the boss, and I’m dicking a hole, dicky dicky hole-”

“If you ever want to see your dick and any hole again, you’ll stop right now! Speaking of which, if you have the energy to sing, then your five-minute break is over. I’ve got years to squeeze out of you.”

“But it’s so catchy...”

“Come here, we’re only on number fifteen.”

“I regret everythiiiiiing!”

“No, you don’t.”

“...no, I don’t...” I admit, pushing Eight off of me, and onto her back.

“Oh, you want to be on top for once? You’ll have to fight me for that privilege, honey.”

Pressing myself against her belly, I nuzzle her nose with mine.

“No, I won’t.”

With a scrunched nose and her chitin as red as her mane, she mumbles:

“...no, you won’t...”

“Heheh,” I pepper her neck with kisses, each melting her chitin a little, and leaving a mark.

“...my name is Eight, boss is filling my holes, filly filly hole...”

“Told you it was catchy.”

“Less talking, more drilling.”

There are some things time can’t change.

***

It’s morni-

It’s whatever time it is in this sunless hole, and finally I don’t have to spend half of my day sitting at a council meeting. However, that also means I have free time, and I can let my mind wander. As usual, it wanders into a dark alley where it’s scared someone will smack it over the head with a brick and steal its lunch money.

”Eight, I was wondering… can you teach me how to fight?”

”Sure, but why so suddenly, love?”

”I’ve been thinking-”

”See? That’s where bad ideas come from. You should have been punching instead.”

Which has never gone wrong. Everrrrrrr.

”I’ve been thinking that before, when I was unable to shapeshift or anything, I couldn’t defend myself even when I was full of love. I was completely reliant on you, One, Nine, everyone, and it led to where we are now, among other things, of course. I got into some disagreements with the dark priests and dwarves, not to mention Five, before we met again, and I mostly prevailed due to sheer luck and a moment of surprise. I’m pretty sure that can’t last forever.”

”Well, I’m here now, Five’s on your side, Seven can use combat magic, and Two’s mental commands are reasonably strong as well. I mean, you’re the boss. You’re here to plan things and use specialists like us to enact your grand plan.”

”Just a quick rebuttal - Two can’t use mental commands on non-changelings and has no one to teach her how to. Five and Seven got smashed by her, details aside. And there’s a limit to what Six and Three can prepare ahead for my ‘grand plan’ despite how non-threatening they are to the dwarves, mostly because I myself have no idea what the grand plan is. Without you physically by my side, I don’t feel confident in my safety in case things go south.”

”I have ZERO problems making sure there’s literally no moment when I’m not by your side, love.”

”Come on, Eight, you know what I mean. I doubt there’s ever been a changeling ruler who lived only by ordering others around.”

Is she afraid that if I learn to fight I won’t need her anymore? That’s silly.

”Oh on the contrary, there were quite a lot of them,” Eight chuckles, ”They got eaten by their subordinates pretty quickly.”

”See? Do you want me to get eaten?” I joke.

”I could go for a nibble, honey.”

Gee, again, you monster? I’m just a changeling, not a machine.

”Then without exercise and training, I’ll be squishy and won’t taste good.”

”More for me to hug and bounce on!”

I’m forced to use my ultimate weapon. No, not orders.

”If I’m in better shape, I’ll last longer, and I’ll be able to shapeshift into more interesting stuff.”

Score! She’s finally thinking about it.

”I guess we can do some basic exercises, and I’ll try to squeeze some combat knowledge out of my head into the hive mind.”

”And practicing together will give us more time for each other, even though most of that time will likely be you helping me get up from the floor.”

”Maybe I like you better down under me.”

”After last night, I’m not so sure.”

”Talk after you stop passing out by hour five. It’s an improvement from before, sure, but until you rut ME unconscious, I’m taking what I want.”

”Which smoothly brings us back to my physical and combat training idea. All jokes aside, Eight, you know how I feel about using others as tools, even for my defense. Before, it was necessary. Now, I want to avoid just hiding and throwing others at whatever problem presents itself.”

”It’s not like I’m against getting sweaty together, but that also means we’ll need to drastically increase our love and lust gathering. As much as I want it to be true, we’re not generating love like we used to before.”

”We’ll get there, Eight, don’t worry. Don’t think I love you any less. And to sweeten the deal and spice things up, how about after each time you defeat me we go for a quick love generation attempt wherever we are, just out of sight of any nearby dwarves.”

I can practically feel her drool over the hive link.

”We need to start training NOOOOOOWWWWW! There are practice rooms inside the castle just for this, and the guards use them quite often. Go go go go! Assassins can be anywhere. Minotaurs, paladins, dwarves, things from the dark, mushrooms, you name it!”

That worked a lot better than I expected. Next, remind me to ask Granite about the strongest dwarven painkillers. Wait, I’m a changeling…

We’re immune to those.

***

Scream’s mind touches every changeling now connected to the boss, and in the next instant she appears by Three’s side who is wandering through the barely lit hallways of the main Brauheim hospital. Doctors wearing white robes and some bulging silk underwear are making sure the patients are safe even in these rough circumstances.

”Huh, I thought boss bug would move the patients into the depths like he did before,” she comments on the situation. Considering no one other than Three can hear her, the drone looks up, and smiles at the alicorn.

”Miss Eight’s dwarves don’t like the dark priests too much, so they don’t care about some strict regulations. Everyone here is wearing clothes made from big spiders that are super warm. Plus, now that there’s no war, the soldier dwarves lent some emergency generators to the hospital to keep the basic machines working.”

Scream frowns.

”Meh. Everyone’s so responsible all of a sudden,” she summons a short stick with which she pokes Three, the wood harmlessly passing through the drone, ”Be fun, chatterbug! I need something to take my mind off of the prospect of planet-wide doom.”

”Is it really that bad outside?” asks Three, stopping in front of a double door with an iron plaque nailed next to it reading ‘Cancer ward’. He knocks on it when it doesn’t move under his push.

Scream sighs, for once looking completely exhausted.

”It’s worse than you can imagine, which I mean literally.”

A doctor opens the door from the other side, looking at Three. Then he shrugs. General orders are to let the changelings do what they want as long as they don’t break anything, so he ushers Three inside this wing of the hospital.

”You mean… is everyone mad at each other or something?”

”No. There’s just one bastard who is mad at everyone, basically. Unfortunately, he seems unstoppable right now, even to me.”

”I can hug him.”

”I’m afraid there are things even hugs from you can’t fix. But I know how it’s going to end, I just have to figure out how to make it happen.”

Three looks horrified.

”There’s NOTHING a warm mug of hug can’t fix, miss Scream! Look,” he enters the nearest room. A skinny dwarf lying on the bed cracks open his eyes, and turns his head towards Three. A strange, black creature in his room would be a cause for concern in any other situation, but at this point, the patient has bigger problems.

”Chatterbug, that pony has cancer. Nothing short of long exposure to focused divine power can consistently cure it, and healer alicorns usually don’t walk around these days. The newest pony treatments can help in early stages, but can often make things even worse. This guy can only hope for peace and something to ease his pain as he dies.”

Three nuzzles the dwarf’s hoof hanging from the bed. The dwarf shuffles away, which only allows Three to jump on the bed, and hug him.

”I just need to hug him harder!”

”Yeah, don’t do that, or he’ll snap in half,” Scream shakes her head, watching the completely confused dwarf wrap his stick-thin forelegs around this weird creature suddenly appearing in his room, ”Cancer is so hard to cure because… how to explain it to someone as simple as you? The body just starts attacking itself, and these big balls grow inside it which sap nutrition or eventually block something important, causing death.”

”Really?”

“Come on, body,” Three nuzzles the dwarf’s neck gently, “Like yourself more and start being nice to yourself.”

”So, explanation failed, apparently,” Scream rolls her eyes, ”Look, I know your company is making him feel better, certainly, but-”

The white runes on Three’s body start glowing brighter, and warmth seeps into the dwarf who closes his eyes, and slowly, with a deep breath, lies back down as Three’s suddenly weak legs can’t hold him.

”-you’re seriously shitting me...” Scream whispers.

Three, exhausted, rolls down from the bed, and wobbles out of the room. The dwarf is sleeping now, his chest going steadily up and down in much more regular intervals than before.

”I need to lie down, miss Scream,” he closes the door behind him, then blinks and shakes his head, ”Ooof, nevermind, I’m fine.”

”...how?” Scream just glares, ”Even I can’t do that. Screw it, Sunbutt can’t do that to normies, and she’s the closest to a healer alicorn in this age.”

Three grins.

”A hug from the heart can make everyone feel better, I told you!” he clops the hooves of his forelegs together, ”Oh, I almost forgot - look what I learned! That body you made for me is super cool.”

The runes on his body turn green, then yellow, then red, and then they start flashing various colors. Scream can hear a beat come from nowhere, followed by Three going ‘unts unts unts!’, and nodding his head to the rhythm.

Her eye twitches.

“T-That’s not the- the body. It can’t do- UURRGH! HOW?! JUST HOW?! HOW DO YOU WORK, YOU RAINBOW-PUKING, CANCER-CURING MIRACLE BUG?!”

Scream finds herself in the darkness of the hive mind alone with Three. And a bed, as she notes with a newly raised eyebrow.

”You look stressed from fighting all the baddies outside, miss Scream. Lie down, and let me try something I came up with yesterday,” Three nods to the bed.

”Screw it, today can’t get weirder than it already is,” she shrugs, and relaxes on the bed, ”And this is just my image, not the real me, chatterbug. I doubt anything you can do to me here will transfer to my body,” she stops when Three pokes her side, his hoof clearly sinking a little into her golden coat.

”Whuh? I don’t understand, miss Scream. I can touch hive mind pictures like everyone else.”

The alicorn feels another onset of headache. How to explain that she’s just a projected image, not a hive link entity like communicating changelings to someone who clearly doesn’t understand and seemingly care about laws of magic, physics… or anything, really? How to tell him something doesn’t work when it’s actually working when he does it?

Better to just shut up, really.

”Nevermind, proceed,” she closes her eyes, then hears a whoosh of transformation, and feels Three’s legs dig into her back as the much smaller drone starts walking over her back. No, he’s not just walking. His hooves are a different shape, perfect for digging into her muscles and- she shivers, ”Screw it, I’m not even corporeal, and you can still… make me forget… about dragon dicks… and whatever. If you die again, I’ll just tell Void to give your soul to me. Fuck yeeeessss, that’s the spot. Maybe I should kill you myself right now and take you home with me immediately.”

”I think boss would be really mad if you did that, miss Scream.”

”Yeah… boss bug is annoying like that. So dig your hooves riiight under that wing like before- oooooaaaaahhhhh...”

***

Six is standing in front of a tunnel three times the size of the entrance to the emerald mine. Unfortunately for him, the entire thing is blocked by a thick chain link fence, and the big gate in its center is locked tight.

“That’s over before it even started...” he frowns, then slaps his cheek, “No! If I want to prove to Five how much I value her, a minor thing like this can’t stop me. Okay, this is going to be a bit of a stretch, but if I can’t do at least this, then I don’t deserve to even look at her.”

In a flash of green, Six shapeshifts into a snake which crawls through the fence. Said snake is about ten ponies long and as thick as a filly’s hoof, because while changing shape isn’t overly difficult, temporarily losing or gaining mass drains love faster than… faster than…

Six can’t think of a proper comparison before his entire length is behind the fence, so he gives up and turns back into himself.

“Alright, step one done - enter the deep core mines. Step two - update the hive mind map for the boss? We’ll do that as we go,” he whispers, transforming his hooves into soft pads for silent walking. Only certified and equipped dwarves are allowed into the real depths, but he’s an adaptable drone with many changeling senses and driving force that would allow him to cleave through solid rock if needed, he hopes.

Anyway, Six is now in the normally inaccessible tunnels, so what next?

“Diamonds… where could they mine the really big diamonds?” he creeps forward through the mine network, avoiding tunnels from which he hears dwarven voices or any roaring of mining machinery being used. Without a clear direction, he simply opts for any way that leads down, and follows the tracks for the transport of mine carts and heavy devices. Eventually, the surrounding heat begins to rise as he descends deeper, telling him he’s going in the right direction at least.

Thankfully, the mines aren’t guarded, which means the various gates and fences along the way are more guidance than security posts, and that hopefully even if he gets caught, Six won’t get into any real trouble. Disappointing the boss after the chance he gave Six is something the drone wants to avoid.

Not giving Five her huge and beautiful diamond, though, is a different and simply unthinkable matter entirely.

The deep core mines drag on and on, until Six reaches a large cavern with a metal and concrete housing construction which occupies most of it. At this point, every breath stings, and Six has to blink quite often to stop his eyes from burning.

“Can I fly around or something?” he freezes when he hears voices upon voices of dwarves from the inside. This must be some sort of warehouse or a command center, or temporary housing.

A quick examination shows that Six could likely transform into something small and crawl or fly around, but resisting the heat is already taking a heavy toll on his love reserves. Realizing that going through the building is the only way forward, Six shuffles inside. The structure looks like half of an egg from the inside with steel tracks leading through and splitting into various smaller tunnels. On the distant end, there’s a raised dais where a group of around ten dwarves are sitting, wearing orange suits with their strange, leathery helmets off, each sipping beer. Unfortunately, no matter how quiet Six is, walking past them would be impossible. The only good part of the situation is that only a pony length into the building, the air is already vastly colder. There must be some sort of cooling machinery hidden in the ‘egg’ shell. Six hides behind one of many heavy drills on wheels or tracks until he cools down, and rests for a while.

Suddenly, the chairs the dwarves were sitting on move as one, making Six sit upright, and the dwarven voices start closing in. He peeks out from behind his cover, and sees the dwarves walking straight towards the exit - his exit.

“Okay, okay, a fly? Just for a moment until they pass by?” he mutters quietly to himself, “No, damn it, too small. Can’t waste energy like that. Something bigger… something...”

The first dwarf passes by, followed by several more, until one looks to the side.

“Umm, hey, guys? What’s a cardboard box doing here?”

“A cardboard box?” the leading dwarf grins, “In a mine where anything unprotected bursts into flames within minutes?” he rubs his chin, staring straight at the ‘intruder’ container, “And perfectly dwarf-sized one, eh? Do you think we’re- HAH!” he suddenly flips the box around, “Stu… pid…?”

“Huh, really just a box, chief,” one of the surrounding dwarves shrugs, “A nice dramatic moment, though, with the hah and everything. Still, does anypony really use cardboard boxes anywhere in the mines?”

The ‘chief’ walks around the box one more time before shrugging as well.

“Whatever. The real question is, do we want to waste our break arguing about a paper container?”

As one, the dwarves turn and leave.

The box sighs, grows tiny legs from its new bottom, and begins skittering away.

The last dwarf in the procession looks back at the empty place. The box skitters away faster in response. The dwarf’s jaw drops.

“Umm, foreman...” the dwarf raises his now shaky voice, “th- the box… got up and… walked away.”

“Have you been breathing magma fumes too long? Next thing you’ll tell me it grew a thousand little legs,” says the foreman without even turning his head.

The dwarf just stops, pointing back into the station.

“BUT CHIEF!”

“Maybe,” the foreman raises his voice, “Maybe you need some paid vacation. Let’s say, some relaxing digging in the EMERALD mine, hmmm?”

The dwarf must be seriously distraught to completely forget the threat of losing all status related to the dangerous deep mining, to just yell:

“But the box isn’t THERE anymore!”

Everyone looks back now, shuffling when they spot the empty space. No one wants to point out anything, though, in fear of being relegated to mining useless green decorations. Then one dwarf gets an excellent survival idea, and says:

“What box?”

Amidst shaking of heads, the foreman pats the last dwarf’s head.

“Come on, we’ve been here far too long already.”

When they disappear into the mine, the box flashes green, and heavily breathing Six stumbles from exhaustion.

“Hnnnngh...”

He allows himself a minute inside the cool interior before picking one exit at random, and returns once again to the ever growing heat of mine tunnels.

At least until the point when he knows he can’t take it anymore.

“Too low?” Six ponders after returning to the nearest tunnel not leading directly down, “Damn, is that tunnel under a magma stream?” he presses his nose against a nearby wall, then knocks against it with his hoof, “Metals, and some crystals, but I don’t think I can feel diamonds. I can’t give her anything less, though. The dwarves said diamonds are mare’s best friend. Okay, Six, you can still go on, so show Five how much you care about her!”

Pep talk over, Six follows the different tunnel to yet another chain link fence, which this time serves less as a barrier and more as just a warning, so Six simply flies over, and continues through the rapidly cooling air of the new tunnel.

“Hmm, must have really been an offshoot of a bigger stream there. I can get waaay more down like this. Maybe I was much less deep than I thought?”

Unfortunately, the tunnels ends abruptly, a cave-in of big boulders explaining the dwarven warning.

“Damn it!” Six kicks the floor, and stops. The tremors from his hoof reveal that he’s standing above another solid tunnel, “Huuuh.”

A moment later, snake Six crawls short way between the looser rocks before suddenly dropping into the air, shapeshifting back into himself, and barely stopping his fall above a perfectly smooth floor. Six needs to make few more adjustments to himself in order to get his bearings in complete pitch blackness, Soon his glowing eyes would look to any outside observer like two bright, blue pools in the middle of dark nothing, but to him they are casting enough light to allow him to see fairly clearly.

The tunnel is over twice as large as Brauheim city streets, made of purplish black rock, and other than the floor, everything is perfectly smooth to the touch.

“It’s as if dwarves didn’t make this...” ponders Six.

Updating the hive mind map and picking a direction at random, he proceeds through the deafening silence of empty underground, his instinctive drone curiosity taking over. After minutes and minutes of nothing happening, the perfectly angular tunnel begins widening even further before opening into a… into something that should be called a cavern because of its location, but that is too clean and angular so it has to be called a large room - a humongous room ending in a thick, ornate, silvery metal gate towering over Six who suddenly feels even smaller than before. As he touches it, he immediately knows that there is no way in hole he’ll ever be able to open it. Both wings of the gate are filled with immaculate carvings which unfortunately don’t tell Six anything.

“Weird, angular ponies. Something that looks like seaweed. Black hole where the sun should be,” a shiver runs down his spine. There is something in that hole. He can’t see it. There is no detail to understand, he just know there’s something in that black hole, something big…

...and it can see him.

“...”

“Hello?” Six backs off, trembling.

“...”

“Umm...” he starts shuffling away faster, not daring to let the gargantuan door out of sight. There IS something behind it. Voices at the edge of hearing, impossible to understand.

He’s not crazy, he knows he heard something.

“...”

He turns around and legs it, because…

...because he didn’t hear the last whisper with his ears, but with his hive link. He looked into a place that felt like a hive mind, but was infinitely older than anything he knows, and it wanted to pull him in.

Fight or flight instinct-

Well no, this is flight, run, flee, or GTFO even faster instinct which leads him away from the creeping chill taking over more and more of him. Six has no clue for how long he’s been galloping in panic when he finds a staircase leading straight up, he only knows his legs and wings are shaking. Thankfully, the air feels warmer here, and there’s a plaque reading ‘Crumbling Vein’ something.

Now calming down, Six looks back at the instinctively mapped route from ‘the door’ to here, and blinking in surprise at how long he must have been fleeing from… nothing he could put his hoof on, really. Anyway, with the required diamond for Five returning to his mind, Six follows the perfectly hewn staircase until it intersects a circular tunnel bearing the good old marks of dwarven digging. What’s even better is that this feels like a diamond territory. Soon, he arrives at a chain link barrier like the one at the upper mine entrance, so nothing a quick snake-that-could-now-fill-a-spool transformation can’t fix, although Six knows he’s dangerously low on love at this point.

A short trip through a tunnel away lies a blissfully empty mining station in which Six grabs one of the mining suits, and follows his drone senses into a searing shaft which soon reveals the desired diamond seam. Unfortunately, Six has no clue how to operate any of the heavy machinery scattered around, so he shapeshifts his hooves for digging, and tries to do it through the fireproof suit which tears immediately around his fetlocks. Touching the walls burns his hooves almost instantly, but despite the stream of tears and moans muffled by the heavy helmet, Six perseveres and pretty soon he limps away with a diamond the size of his head.

Part one successful. Now all he needs is to get outside with his cargo.

Then, after some careful planning, there will be time for part two - cutting the precious rock into a beautiful jewel inside the dark priest enclave.

“Five will be so surprised!” he squeaks happily.

18: Now everything IS peaceful. Finally!

View Online

“Are you sure this’ll help?” Two asks Five as the warrior leads her up the many staircases of the Brauheim castle.

“In comparison to you screaming at target dummies in frustration, then clipping your hoof as you punch one? I doubt it can make things worse,” Five shrugs.

You see, Two’s been trying to practice magic on her own. Without Scream, all the ‘delayed successes’ as boss called it, kept getting more and more delayed. Magic shields? No, literally a waste of energy when compared to simply hardening her carapace. Balls of fire and roaring arcane death? Well, there was a lot of yelling on Two’s side eventually, but that’s about it.

So it’s come to this. Standing in front of a large door of the supposedly massive castle library, Two bites her lip and looks at Five.

“He’s gonna be pissed at me.”

“Don’t worry about that. He just looks like that, with his permanent scowl, the blood red amulet on his neck, and his constantly glowing horn. Dwarves call it resting I’m-gonna-eat-your-foals face. He’s a pretty friendly guy if you get to know him.”

The door slams open, revealing a changeling head.

“I’m, trying to READ here!” Seven glares at Two and Five. Two pouts while Five simply tilts her head and smiles.

“Hi, Seven. Little slave driver here has a question for you,” the warrior pats his head as she pushes past him into a library so vast that even to her eyes the tops of the bookshelves are shrouded in darkness, “And don’t be like that. Even when the lights were working, you used to be the only one here most of the time.”

“Alright, what is it?”

Two lets out a sigh of relief. Seven’s annoyed stare eases up, and now he looks genuinely curious and not mad at all. Granted, she has no reason to be scared of him or anything, it’s just that right now he’s the only one around who can help, and without his help, she’ll continue being… useless.

“Can you teach me to use magic?” Two shuffles her forelegs nervously.

Seven blinks few times, then smiles. Not an evil grin or anything, just genuine happy smile.

“Of course! Come in, come in,” his telekinesis shoves Two inside, and he closes the door behind them, “You don’t know how glad I am that you asked. Dwarves don’t use magic, they have technology far past the point of what unicorns can do, Eight can kick things so hard they would consider a lightning bolt an improvement afterwards, Five-”

“Five’s not smart enough to learn anything,” the warrior finishes Seven’s sentence, sitting down into an armchair.

“What? No!” Seven shakes his head quickly, “Her just being a low-tier warrior means she doesn’t have the energy to focus both on combat training with Eight and magic under me. Plus, we don’t have enough love to waste it. And as far as Six goes, he’s smart, but similar to Five, his body just… isn’t made to use pony magic. As for you, I see no reason why you shouldn’t be controlling the world around you with the power of your will in few sessions.”

“Really?” Two’s ears perk up.

“Definitely!” Seven nods, “It’ll be fun to have someone interested to talk to after all this time. You wanna start right now?”

“Sure!” Two bounces up and down.

“Alright, let me just explain the theory for a bit. Don’t worry, I’m more of the applied pyromancy kind of changeling rather than a theory-eating bookworm.”

“Riiiight...” Five chuckles, and immediately punches a hoof-sized ball of fire shot at her which disperses in the air.

“Wooow,” Two’s eyes go wide with wonder when she sees how easily Seven sent the blast of magic at Five, and how effortless it was for her to disperse it.

“We’ve been messing around with magic ever since I started studying these old books,” Seven can’t help smiling at Two’s amazement, “And we found out that Five is vastly better at resisting magical effects than using them. I suppose that’s a warrior thing. I tried few times with Eight, but she just ignores anything I throw her way.”

Two recalls how Scream’s lightning which completely drained her love barely stopped Five for few seconds.

“Anyway,” Seven continues, “Let’s start with a simple flare spell. It makes light and heat, and if you aim it well or amplify the heat aspect, you can burn someone’s eyes out in more ways than light. It goes like this-”

Two listens to Seven’s explanation coupled with a hive link connection of how it should feel. How to slowly draw the energy from herself, how to effectively convert her love into magic, and the important part in the end - how to project the energy away from herself.

A blast of golden light interrupts Seven’s explanation and demonstration, leaving behind Scream.

“Who- what-?” Seven aims his glowing horn at her.

“S-Scream, what are you doing here?” Two looks at the alicorn.

”I heard someone explaining magic wrong, and my eye started twitching. I’m wounded, WOUNDED that you’d look for help elsewhere, smart bug,” all three changelings hear Scream speak, ”Oh hey, a new bug to name… mage bug, spell bug, nerd bug? Nerd bug.”

“Well, you were busy,” Two looks down at the carpeted floor, “I couldn’t get any better on my own, and I remembered that when Seven and I fought, he could use teleports and stuff, so I needed someone to help me.”

“And what do you mean by explaining magic WRONG?” Seven frowns, “That’s what I found in the books, and it’s been working for me pretty well. I’m deciding to leave the ‘Who the actual hole are you?’ question for last.”

Screams waves her hoof dismissively.

”Oh yeah, Silversmith and dwarven books about magic. Reeeeeal quality source of information from a race that has used their heads mainly to bash things for millennia. Look, let me point out just one of the many wrong assumptions in your explanation. The matrix of thaumic nerves in changeling horn is vastly different from unicorn spiral-”

Two tries to listen, but pretty soon the words that completely captivate Seven go into her one ear and immediately out of the other. Confused and bored, she tries to summon some magic lights which appear above her hoof, and fizzle almost instantly.

“So you’re saying that if I do it like this,” Seven’s horn crackles with power, “Hey, Five, move to our practice corner, will you?”

The warrior walks off to a corner of the library which has been emptied of all books and anything else flammable. She faces Seven, and green fire runs through her chitin to build up her elemental and anti-magic defenses.

*BOOM!*

As much redder, magical fire fades, singed Five is standing in the now blackened corner, steaming and smoldering. She coughs out ash.

“Ok-Okay… that was… something...”

Seven doesn’t look any less surprised when his eyes uncross. This spell was leagues more powerful than anything before, and it was simply thanks to a much more effective energy manipulation rather than amount.

”See?” Scream beams, ”THIS is how you do it.”

“Can I try?” asks Two.

”Go for it, smart bug. You heard the theory.”

Heard yes, understood… not so much.

However, it’s still easier to gather love to light a small ball of fire above her hoof…

...which fizzles out.

”Keep trying, keep trying.”

“Yeah,” Seven encourages her as well, “When I was figuring this out on my own in my spare time, it took me weeks before I did my first light spell. With me and this illusionary lady alicorn here, you’ll do alright soon.”

But she doesn’t. They watch her draw energy, project it into a stable form, and then dissipate. Over and over and over and over. In the end, frustrated Two just tries to gather more and more in hopes that so much energy just won’t disappear, and-

-it doesn’t, indeed.

Instead, it blows up in her face, the shockwave scattering books around. Disoriented but not particularly hurt, at least physically, Two sits down on the floor. Her ego, though, got yet another blow right in the face.

“Ooookay, maybe a little less power next time?” Seven pats Two’s head.

“I dunno, it’s just not working for me...” mumbles Two, her eyes tearing up, “Maybe I should just stick to punching thing like my mo- Eight does...”

”Let’s not go that route again,” Scream shakes her head, ”Look, just hide somewhere where you can relax and concentrate, and try again slooowly, not like now.”

Two sighs, standing up and heading for the door.

“I guess I’ll just do that...” with her ears drooping, she leaves the library.

“Should I go talk to her?” Seven looks at the closed door. Scream waves her foreleg in response.

”Nah, she’ll be okay, she’s smart. She just needs to learn some patience. Now, fireballs are great and all, but I think we can think outside the box here. How about… fire CUBES? That way you can burn someone AND poke their eye out with a sharp edge too.”

“Oh… my… god...” Seven’s eyes go wide, “You’re a GENIUS!”

Five rolls her eyes before they get poked out, and leaves as well. It doesn’t take her long to find Two sitting in a dark hallway nearby, kicking the carpet.

“That’s an image of misery if I ever saw one,” Five sits next to her, and wraps her foreleg around the little infiltrator’s shoulders.

“I wish I could just make my control over you go away,” mumbles Two, “That way you’d be free to do your stuff, and won’t have to waste time around me.”

“Have to?” Five raises an eyebrow, “You didn’t order me to keep you company, and neither did your boss. I do what I think is best for your- our hive.”

“Look, it’s clear to me that my first success was a stroke of pure luck. I screwed up almost everything since then,” Two sighs, “And now that everyone’s together… I’d never say it to Eight’s face, but maybe she knew which eggs were the right ones to keep, and left the useless one to rot for good reason. Boss now has two pretty awesome warriors, two drones, and one really good infiltrator. I feel like the best way I can be of help to the boss is by not being a drain on hive’s already limited resources. Boss doesn’t need me anymore.”

“Really good infiltrator?” Five chuckles, “I think you’re really overestimating Seven. He can do magic, that’s all.”

“That’s still more than I can do!”

“Is that so? Then why was it him who had to run away TWICE when you two fought?”

“I had the moment of surprise on my side. The first time he underestimated me, and the second time I had you there.”

“I disagree. The way I saw what happened was a little different. You won simply because you were better at what infiltrators really excel at - control. Your mental commands were enough to control me and paralyze him. On top of that, Seven has never been our source of love when we had to hunt, he’s not the social kind. Maybe you should focus on what actual infiltrators do instead of forcing yourself to make shiny lights.”

“You don’t understand, Five!” Two buries her muzzle into her hooves, “That only works on changelings, and since we’re all on the same side, I can’t do anything useful if we’re in danger.”

“You’re right,” she tilts her head, “I DON’T understand. Why are you bothered that you can’t turn an ongoing battle around? You’re an infiltrator. Your job isn’t to fight, that’s what I am for. Your job is to make sure a fight doesn’t happen. Biting the right pony at the right time can prevent a battle, and a battle we don’t have to fight is the best kind. Use your head, Two. Anyway, your boss knows about mental commands, and I’m absolutely certain Eight does as well. Why don’t you learn from them? I could be a practice target, although I’m not great at resisting those, as you already know.”

“Because I can’t show HER that she was right in leaving me as an egg, and if I ask, boss will know how little of use I am really.”

“Boss will know you’re trying to learn!” Five cuts her off, now staring firmly into Two’s eyes, “The real problem is clear to me. Swallow your pride. And. Do. What’s. Right,” Five looks away, “If it helps, I know exactly how you’re feeling. Well, about one part at least.”

“Really?” Two raises an eyebrow, skeptical, then wipes her eyes.

“Obviously. How do you think my every combat training with Eight goes? I think you can imagine that, but every time it is a learning experience. I know I will never be even remotely as good as she is, but I do my job, I play my role, I fulfill my duty. I’m not supposed to be the best, or indispensible, I’m supposed to serve the hive to the best of my ability. I suggest you do the same. We are changelings. Everything we do is for the greater good we believe in. Do you believe in boss’ goal?”

“Yes, I do,” Two breathes out.

“Then I don’t see where your personal feelings fit into it, especially if they are what’s holding you back. I’m not telling you to become a mindless extension of boss’ will, that’s what he and Eight were fighting against from the start from what I heard, but you have to realize what the hurdles stopping you from reaching your goal are.”

Two takes a deep breath, then grits her teeth. Instead of answering, she taps into me.

”Yaaah!” she physically leans back in her real body when she sees my view of Eight bouncing on me, and hears Scream’s loud cheering.

”Don’t let him finish now, no matter how much he begs, he’ll thank you later! Or froth a lot. Now, boss bug, grow a dick number three, I suggest a diamond dog one this time, and let’s get this party STARTEEEED!”

Two immediately disconnects her link, blushing.

“Maybe in few hours,” she furrows her brows, “Huh, I thought Scream was with Seven.”

”I’m really good at multitasking, smart bug,” she hears the alicorn’s voice come out of nowhere.

Shaking her head, Two stands up, and Five follows suit.

“Alright, Five. I suppose you’re right. We should do our job, and that is feeding everyone,” with few waves of green flames, Two shapeshifts into Living Armor, “Let’s see how Eight’s dwarves react when they see this. Lights being out might actually be a blessing,” she boops Five’s nose, now being as tall as she is, “So, mare’s night out?”

Five leans backwards.

“You mean as US? I don’t mean to insult your disguise, but that’s basically you, only a little taller and a pony.”

“Boss’ orders, Five,” Two circles around the warrior, running her hoof over Five’s fit body with a smile, “Let’s see what we can do with that pretty face, Flower Pot. When I’m done with you, dwarves will queue up to let you drain them, even if you’re yourself. Well, mostly yourself.”

Now THIS is a lesson Scream taught her well.

***

Hey, I’m getting better at crawling up a flight of stairs!

“Oh stop that!” Eight, chipper than ever before, slings me over her back with my legs spread, reminding me of the part of last night where I peacefully mounted her before Scream happened and things went completely nuts.

“Ah, there you are, king, ehm, queen!” a voice of business greets my dangling self on the bottom floor of the castle.

“Greetings, loremaster,” Eight greets the dwarf, completely at ease.

“Hi, Granite,” I weakly wave my foreleg at him, “Can I just sleep for the rest of the day, please?”

While I do believe my love total hasn’t gone down much despite the numerous transformations, improvements, and general fuel to survive Eight’s insatiable drive, my muscles responsible for transforming said love to activity are petitioning the international pony rights tribunal with a report of cruel and unusual treatment.

“I’m afraid not, king,” Granite shakes his head, trying to maintain a stone face, “Considering the situation Brauheim dwarves are in, we need something to raise their morale, and since public flogging of the queen here is out of the question, I believe you are better suited to bring them hope than she is.”

For obvious reasons, Granite doesn’t like Eight. Aside from Iron Rose who considers Eight the catalyst that originally brought the change she wanted, none of the council members are fans. However, the loremaster is a professional if nothing else, and won’t bring personal feelings into what’s better for the city.

“What have you got in mind?” I carefully slide off of Eight’s back, “And I’m doing it with Eight, whatever it is.”

“A media stunt,” Granite nods at us to follow him to the council room, “After a lengthy discussion, every council member is staying in their position, and there are no new members. However, each of us did take on an advisor from quee- Eight’s side of the city, one of the less radical ones. Your job will be to get acquainted with many facets of real life in Brauheim, which should help you make better decisions in the future, show to dwarves that changelings are around and it’s okay, and it might even be useful to you two as well. The city newspapers will doubtlessly write articles about you, showing more your reality than the rumors which must at this point be circulating everywhere. The old ‘our rulers are like us’ public relations strategy. I’m fully aware I can’t force you to do this, but I urge you to consider the benefits.”

Eight looks at me, eyebrow raised.

“What do you say, boss?”

“It can’t hurt, I suppose,” I shrug, “Where and when do we start, Granite?”

“The regular morning guard practice, which is my part of the day, is the easiest to set up, since it’ll be starting in half an hour.”

“Umm, can it be something else? ANYTHING else, really? I haven’t slept, and I’ve had more than enough exercise yesterday… and tonight… and until about fifteen minutes ago.”

“What?” Eight objects, “Yes, you did sleep! You fainted for about an hour. I went to get us drinks in the meantime,” she turns towards Granite, “We agree! Boss won’t just watch, he’ll participate as well. We both will, as he said.”

”I’m not burning love for this, Eight! Seriously, we’re low overall already,” I complain over the hive link.

”The more your muscles adapt to activity, the less love you’ll have to burn eventually to do it. You really should do this regularly.”

“Fiiiine,” I say out loud. It’s not as if I’m not curious, I’m just deathly tired, “Let’s see what this is all about.”

***

Unlike, let’s say, Canterlot, Brauheim doesn’t have wide, outside, open space where guards can practice. The main difference, however, isn’t the wide and open part. In one part of the city not too far away from the castle and thus the barracks lies a normally heavily ventilated room where hundreds of dwarves spar or exercise. Now, however, with the ventilation running on reserve power, the heat from the guards is fighting against the cold caused by lack of heating growing each day.

Anyway, aside from our media retinue and the general surprise of dwarves, the physical exercise part is uneventful. Eight has zero trouble with physical training regime which the tough dwarves do daily. I, well, am not so lucky, and have to drop out halfway through. To my surprise, no one is laughing or anything.

“Don’t worry about it, king,” whispers Granite, “They all remember their first days, and you’ve done well enough.”

Next up is the combat training.

Eight goes first against a big and thick dwarf - well, for a dwarf, I mean, which still leaves the horns of his helmet at her chest-height. Granite personally picked this one, so I’m expecting a fight, knowing how good these guys are with weapons.

He spins his axe on a loop around his fetlock, approaching Eight in a spiral. Then he darts forward, axe swinging with the added strength of the spin. I can barely believe how quick and agile he is even with his full plate armor. HE can suddenly barely believe that he’s flying many pony lengths through the air before crashing on the floor with the noise of a dropped bag of iron scrap.

“I underestimated her...” Granite breathes out when he realizes that Eight has just grabbed his fully armored dwarf mid-pounce, spun him in the air by his leg, and tossed him away like a rag doll.

“Yeah, don’t even bother trying to fight her one on one. She was born for this, and she only got better with time. Generally, I would hesitate to go fifty on one either. She is the paradigm of a warrior, Granite. From what I saw, she was supposed to be the new queen of the hive before our old one found out Eight’s rather fatal weakness.”

“Which is?”

“She’s not a leader. Specifically, she physically needs to serve and belong to someone, which made her completely ineligible. When I say she is mine, I mean it literally. Plus, this way she can focus on doing what she’s best at. Punching the bad guys. Aren’t you glad she’s on your side now?”

Granite just grunts something before nudging me.

“Your turn, king.”

“I’m not… much of a fighter, really.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

I take my place inside a circle of dwarves staring at Eight with dropped jaws, and soon I’m faced with another dwarf who looks completely identical to others in his unmarked armor.

“Ha haaaa!” he proclaims, standing up on his hind legs, and twirling an axe around each front fetlock. He spins around, showing me strikes, lunges, and swings. Afterwards, he aims his flamethrower into the air, flicking his hoof which releases accurate and devastating bursts of fire. Woooow, now he’s lit his axes on fire and is spinning them in the air. That looks so cooool!

I stab him through his armor with a love lance.

“Oooookay...” snickering Granite jumps in, and leads me away immediately, “Let’s leave weapon training for some other time.”

“I-Is he okay? I wasn’t sure what was that about, but I kinda panicked when the fire barely missed my head and-”

“Yeah, he’s okay. From the looks of it, you missed everything vital. That’ll teach that idiot to show off,” he leans down to my hoof, “Was that magic?”

“I don’t know. It’s just something the old queen taught me,” I summon a small green blade from hoof, “It’s kinda tiring to keep it up, though.”

“It simply melted through the armor as if he wasn’t wearing anything,” Granite shakes his head in disbelief, “So, is continuous use exhausting for you? And you can do it whenever?” when I nod, he continues, “Then you don’t need to keep it up, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you swing your hoof at an enemy, and summon this thing only for a second in the end, they’ll just think you’re punching them until it’s too late.”

“Oh… OH!” I never thought about it like that, “That’s an awesome idea, Granite.”

“Thank you, king. Alright, so I think we’ll postpone combat training due to the potential of too many destroyed weapons. However, I think I’m going to send my friend’s weapon expert to think of a way to make use of your unique ability. I think she can also manage your physical exercises so that you don’t have to do them here if you want.”

“She?” Eight tilts her head and narrows her eyes ever so slightly.

“One of the Iron Roses who joined the army as soon as we relaxed the regulations. She’s smart, strong, good fighter, and also pleasing to the eye. Only the best for our king,” he looks straight at Eight with a grin that can only be described as digested love residue-eating.

Nope, he really doesn’t like Eight.

With this part of our today’s media adventure over, Granite leaves us in the care of Hard Hat and a group of miners.

19: Round two - Fight!

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Okay, so while part one of our media promotion didn’t go as planned, albeit not poorly, the second part is sweeeet! For me, that is. Eight is snoring loudly inside a mine cart now pushed along by a dwarf, her legs dangling over the rim. If she wasn’t drooling from the corner of her wide open mouth, showing everyone her massive, sharp teeth, and her saliva wasn’t slowly corroding the metal cart, things would be perfect. This way, I have no doubt her photo will appear in tomorrow’s newspapers, and I will be the one to stop her from biting someone’s head off.

To explain, the second part is under Hard Hat, which means I’m with the miners. Granted, not with Six and Three in the emerald mine. Dwarves said that while it would be good in a way that I would spend time with miners of the lower status, I should also be shown mining some more useful resource. What the dwarves clearly didn’t expect was that I’m a drone, biaaaaatch! Well, I used to be.

Heheeee!

My hoof glows when I practically shear off a section of rock underneath, leaving the most experienced miners stunned when I reveal a cluster of gems of various sizes and kinds. Someone immediately comes to gather those, and I continue sniffing the air for ancient coal dust, tapping the floor and walls to understand their structure and reveal pockets of gems or nearby valuable seams. This has been going on for some two hours, and despite my heavy use of love, I haven’t felt relaxed like this in a loooooong time.

I should spend more time with Three and Six in the emerald mine. It’s super therapeutic.

The tremors under my next hoofsteps reveal something unusual.

“Hey, Hard Hat, we might be digging a bit too close to another tunnel,” I furrow my brows, “I can feel a wall that way,” I point straight at the wall.

The council miner studies his map closely, then shakes his head.

“That has to be a mistake. This is a fresh dig, that’s why we’re finding all sorts of gems and veins here. Once we summarize and sort the contents of this preliminary expedition, we’ll categorize this shaft. There are no other tunnels in a large radius from here.”

“Hmmm,” I tilt my head, scrunch my nose, and tap the wall in front of me again, “No… worked stone. Really dense and heavy,” raising my glowing hoof again, I start digging through the craggy but solid rock as if it was gravel, “Let’s see. This body seems to have retained my drone instincts. I wish I had Three here for a second opinion. He’s got the most digging experience out of anyone here.”

After few swings, my hoof scratches something hard, something that I can’t simply dissolve even with love.

“Ah hah!” I clean the rocks around, revealing hewn, purplish black, stone wall with large, angular blocks perfectly fitting one on another without any mortar or goop to keep them together, “There you go, Hard Hat. This doesn’t look like a natural formation, does it?”

The surprised miners swarm around the strange wall, touching, poking, and tapping against it. Their collective murmuring and talking grows louder, which wakes Eight up. She jumps out of the mine cart instantly, startling her dwarven keeper.

“What’s going on?” she yawns.

“I’m not sure,” Hard Hat studies his plans furiously, “According to the map, nothing should be here. This is masterwork that would make my grandpa hard, and he’s squished under tons of rock,” he raises his voice over the mumbling of others, “Alright, lads, quiet! We’re the inquisitive sort, so let’s set up rails and bring the big drill here. I’m not risking explosives.”

“You need to get through?” she taps the stones curiously, “This wall isn’t too thick.”

“That might be the case,” Hard Hat shakes his head, “but this is bedrock. Only the toughest diamond drills can hope to get through. Only few of our most expansive shafts end up so deep that we could mine it, but the effort is so high it’s not really worth it.”

“But… the goal still is to get through, right?” Eight asks again.

“Yes, queen,” Hard Hat nods, “This shouldn’t be here at all, so we’ll settle here for a while before we lay the rails and can bring the drill here-”

Eight cocks her hoof back which starts glowing.

“What are you-” Hard Hat’s jaw drops when with a deafening boom, Eight’s hoof impacts against the darkstone.

Again, again, and again.

Cracks spread through the supposedly immovable object, but an unstoppable force applied repeatedly seems to be winning, until…

...the wall breaks, dust and purple-black shards flying everywhere.

“Ouch,” Eight shakes her hoof, examining its cracked surface which seals up under her gaze, “You know, I’m starting to see why you see this as relaxing. Finally something that doesn’t break when I sneeze at it.”

In the originally dead silence of the shocked dwarves, I start to hear whispers.

“...I think I just peed a little...”
“...do you think I can ask her out for Beerfest…?”
“...you have no idea how hard I am right now...”
“...I’ve never been much for the good old death by snu snu, but daaaamn...”

Eight looks straight at the last whispering dwarf, and licks her lips, het long, green tongue carefully tracing her huge fangs. She blows him a kiss in the end before walking over to me and letting the dwarves through the hole with lights.

To my surprise, the ‘secret’ is revealed to be a single, domed room hiding a chunk of bedrock in the middle with a big sword sticking out of it. The sword doesn’t have a guard, and its handle is shaped like griffon talons grasping a ball representing the world. On the other end of the handle is a pommel shaped like small griffon head, its two eyes being tiny rubies.

“By Muradin’s istrium warhammer...” Hard Hat breathes out after examining the sword, then touching it with reverence, “I wish Granite was here right now. He would blow up in excitement.”

For me, it’s just a big sword. Pretty, but… you know, a sword. We changelings don’t use weapons much. We were made to be the physical perfection, so our bodies are our best weapons, which Eight so clearly demonstrated a moment ago.

Come to think about it…

*Vroom vrooooom!*

Huh, did someone bring a motorized minecart?

“Hey, Hard Hat,” I poke the sword. It doesn’t feel like it’s magical or anything, “This is too big for dwarves, isn’t it? Plus, I’ve never seen any of you use a sword anyway. It’s always been an axe or a hammer.”

The great foreman, or whatever Hard Hat’s title is, shakes his head.

“No, if I’m right then this was made by dwarves, but not for dwarves. You see, this looks like a sword from legends about our ancestors crafted ages ago with a prophecy that its wielder would unite the world. Its original owner was a griffon warlord who united the first griffon tribes and city-states into what became the Griffon Empire.”

*Vroom vroooom!*

Distant rumbling of motors draws closer. The dwarves must be laying the rails way faster than expected.

“There was some huge price for it, I’m sure Granite would tell you more. He knows ancient history, I just know the basic legends,” Hard Hat continues, scratching his head, “I think the griffons refused to pay it, so the ancestors dug a tunnel to the griffon Holy City-”

“That’s halfway across the world,” Eight interrupts him, blinking in surprise.

“It’s closer underground, given the curve of the planet,” Hard Hat shrugs as if this still wasn’t an undertaking of immeasurable scale, “Plus, our ancestors had technology that could bridge any distance or dig through any material including the bedrock. Unfortunately, we lost almost all of it when some cataclysmic event wiped them out several millennia ago. Dark priests have pieced together the most, but we still have only the tiniest fragments of tech the ancestors used daily.”

“Any idea about what the cataclysm was?” I ask.

Hard Hat shrugs.

“It’s where even our history starts. Dark priests have some records, mostly stored in the form of prophecies and strange, fragmented mentions hidden on technologically advanced devices we can barely understand. As I said, ask Granite. I think he tried to become a dark priest when he was younger, but failed. Anyway, to finish the part of the story I know off, we took the sword back from their most sacred vaults within the Holy City, right under the griffons’ beaks. The sword was supposed to be hidden somewhere with the prophecy that there would be no later payment for our services, but whoever pulls the sword out of the stone will fulfill the first Emperor’s wish to unite the world.”

*Vroom vroom* gets closer. I guess the dwarves here can’t hear it yet.

“Hey, lads!” Hard Hat raises his voice which echoes through the large room, “Since we’re here… if anypony pulls it out and becomes our rightful king, beer’s on us tonight.”

With a chuckle, he stands up on his hind legs, the only way he can barely reach the sword handle with his mouth, and tries to pull it out. The weapon doesn’t move, and same goes for all the other miners who give pulling it out a shot.

Hard Hat nudges me.

“How about you, king? Let’s see if you’re fated for more than just Brauheim.”

I snicker, but with a shrug, I grow talons on my forelegs to imitate a griffon, then stand up on my hind legs, grab the handle, and heave. After few attempts boosted by my flaring love, I give up. That damn thing is stuck fast.

“I guess… no world… domination… for changelings...” I manage to say while gasping for breath.

Eight examines the sword from all sides, one eyebrow raised.

“Boss, do you want the world?” she smirks at me.

“No, not really...” I shake my head.

“Too late!” she repeats exactly what I did, but the waves of love I feel reinforcing her body practically burn me, “Hnnnghh… RAAAAAAAAAAWR!”

Jaws drop, dwarves let go of their equipment, all thinking flatlines.

The sword doesn’t move.

The same can’t be said for the huge slab of bedrock it’s sticking out of.

Eight…

...is holding the sword by its handle above her head, the humongous rock still speared on its point like a makeshift hammer.

With a growl, she smashes the slab against the floor.

Once.

Twice.

On the third slam, the bedrock block shatters, leaving the strangely undamaged sword in the claws of Eight’s foreleg.

Sweat is dripping from her forehead, green blood seeping through the seams of her chitin bulging with muscles, and she’s gasping for breath, but she raises the sword above her head in one foreleg.

“Does… haaah… this… huff… count…?”

In the silence, there’s only one dwarf whisper which I think summarizes everyone’s feelings:

“...I thought I was hard before, but now I could drill through diamonds...”

*VROOM VROOOOM!*

“O-Okay,” the loud roaring of motors breaks the dwarves’ trance, and Hard Hat looks around, “HEY, WE DON’T NEED THE DRILL ANYMORE!” he yells into the hole in the wall.

Wait.

Waaaaait.

Wait wait wait wait…

“Hard Hat, did you say the griffon became the FIRST Emperor?” I ask, not believing the idea being born inside my head myself.

The dwarf nods. A little stab of shock from Eight’s link precedes her turning towards me, jaw dropped.

“No… just no… that can’t be it...” she breathes out, her ears twitching in tune with the rapidly approaching rumbling of a motor.

“I thought One sent him to the Dragon Lands,” I facehoof.

A wild smile grows on Eight’s muzzle, then she cracks her neck.

“I guess I’m lucky, I could use a new set of armor and a chainsaw.”

“What are you two talking about?” asks Hard Hat.

With a rumble, something positively massive barrels through the hole, scattering surprised dwarves around like bowling pins. They’re all wearing their full plate mails, but in contrast with the mass of the huge incoming figure, they’re tiny.

It’s a griffon, which can be identified only from a bird head sticking out of a huge-ass metal armor decorated with gold. In one foreleg, he’s holding not a chainsaw this time, but a roaring sword covered in spinning teeth.

“Do you think he recognizes us?” I back off from the visage of brutal, armored madness.

“YYYYYOOOOOOUUUUU!” roars the griffon, rearing on his hind legs while pointing his free foreleg at Eight.

“You know, I’m still not sure. Can I hive call a friend?” she flourishes the sword.

“HARD HAT, EVERYONE, GET OUT!” I yell, still backing away from the stomping griffon.

Thankfully, the griffon Imperial Guard seems to have his eyes only for Eight holding the sword.

”I’ve got a revolutionary idea, Eight. How about we DO give him the sword?”

”Over my chopped body!”

”Eight?”

”You saw what this thing survived.”

”The sword or the damn guard?!” at this point, I feel like I need a clarification.

”Sword, dummy. An unbreakable weapon must be useful.”

With a wide, slow, sweeping swing the griffon guard attacks Eight who experimentally blocks his chain sword with the Blade of the First Emperor. Sparks fly, and the guard backs off. Whatever Eight’s blade is made of, it doesn’t even look scratched afterwards.

The guard darts forward as fast as is possible in his insanely big and heavy armor, but slows his swing down when Eight tries to block his chain sword.

”He doesn’t want to break it!” Eight comes to an important conclusion while I’m helping dwarves get up, and ushering them out.

”We can use that, right? I don’t know, threaten to throw it into magma?”

”I doubt that. This guy spent years trying to find it, and after One’s stunt, it had to be through dragons. Literally. I’m pretty sure. Plus, I can see it in him. After last time, it’s personal.”

After a quick dodge to the side, Eight swings the sword and scores a direct hit against the griffon’s armor with zero result.

”Okay, tough sword doesn’t mean it can cut through everything,” Eight leads the griffon away from me, ”Alright, boss. Time to get out. As much as I’d love to fight this guy on my own, I don’t have the love after tonight and the enhancements I had to do to get this damn weapon.”

I help the final dwarf inside get out, and leave Eight alone with the griffon.

”Everyone, I need you at the exit of new mine 97-F. We’ve got a hostile we can’t take on with Eight and dwarves. I’ll inform you about everything you need to know. Don’t waste time with questions.”

Through Eight’s eyes, I see her attack the chain sword directly, making the griffon back off. That’s all she needs to dart past him and into the mine tunnel. Dwarves and I are some way ahead, and Eight doesn’t want to leave the griffon out of sight.

”Can we just flee?” I ask.

”And leave the birdbrain rampaging through the city? While it would be fun to watch, I want to keep the sword, so no.”

“King, we can drop a tunnel on that griffon if we get ahead enough,” Hard Hat raises his voice, running by my side, “That should buy us some time.”

“No, Eight wants that armor. She lost the last one when we were attacked by the paladins. It was pretty heavy, but she liked it.”

“Heavy? Imperial power armors have their own energy source to allow for the quick movement. WAIT, are you trying to tell me that she used to JUST WEAR IT?!”

“Uhh, yeah?”

“I don’t even...” Hard Hat shakes his head.

As we reach the mine exit, and darkness of the powerless city envelops us, I feel my changelings approaching.

“Alright, Hard Hat. You keep running, we try to fight. Tell Granite what’s going on.”

“On it, king!” he changes course, running down the nearest street, “LADS, YOU HEARD THE KING, FOLLOW ME!”

Distractions sorted out, I stop to take a breath.

”Eight, I’ve got an idea. You occupy his attention, I stab him from the back. Love weapons seemed to be good even against armor this morning.”

”No can do, boss!” she’s backing out of the tunnel, defending against wide and neverending swings, ”He’s really good! The armor isn’t limiting him as much as I thought. He can easily slice you in half if you’re not careful.”

”I called everyone here to fight him. He can shred them as well.”

”Boss, we’ve been over this. THEY are disposable, YOU aren’t!”

”Agreed,” I hear Five’s calm voice, as the warrior arrives first, jumping over me and circling around the griffon to attack him from behind.

”If I’m to be logical about this, I have to agree, although I’d prefer not eating whatever that freaking weapon is to the face,” with a pop, Seven appears next to me, his horn glowing green and purple.

”Yeah...” Six arrives, slowing down when faced with the humongous griffon, ”Though I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do here.”

”We’re on the way!” from Two’s eyes, I see here flying down a street, holding Three in her legs.

Five pounces at the griffon from behind, her claws burning with green flames. He swats her away at the same time while forcing Eight to block a heavy slash which makes a shower of sparks light the vicinity.

A green, burning projectile explodes against the armor, making the griffon stumble a little.

”Was that a fire CUBE, Seven?”

”Way more dangerous than balls, boss!” he shakes his head, realizing his magic did absolute squat, ”Although I don’t think he knows that.”

Two flies past, dropping Three.

-Freeze!-

The griffon doesn’t even flinch as his overhead swing pushes Eight’s block downwards, then he thrusts his sword, the spinning blades of which bite into Eight’s shoulder.

“Arrgh, fuuuuu-” she burns love to push him away and heal herself, but I can feel she’s reaching exhaustion.

I have to do something. With Five and Eight still occupying the griffon’s attention, I approach from his blind angle, and…

...get kicked away with strength rivaling Eight’s.

However, my love slash seems to have cut through the leg armor of the griffon, as he stumbles, forced back on all fours temporarily.

“Boss!” Three jumps under me, trying to keep me steady. That warm aura of love is quite soothing, even in this situation.

So, fighting is possible, but with Eight this low on energy it’s way too risky. The griffon will now know I am the threat and won’t let me approach unnoticed again. We can either wait for reinforcements, or…

...no, if he starts rampaging, he’ll wound or possibly kill too many ponies.

The griffon apparently feels threatened now, grabs a strange device attached to a lock on his chest, quickly aims it at Eight. A burst of noise cuts through the air, and Eight flies off, her neck speared with a thick metal bolt dragging her along.

She can’t get up anymore, blood pouring from her torn throat.

”Damn it, boss!” she says mentally, because obviously she can’t speak anymore, ”Get the hole out! I don’t think I can hold him anymore. Kinda trying not to die here.”

Six, however, is quick on his hooves, and grabs the sword which fell from Eight’s claws. The griffon aims his ranged weapon again, but Six is ready. Forcing all his love into his backside, the bolt that hits him straight on bounces off while propelling the drone way ahead with the handle of the sword still in his mouth.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!”

“Go Six, drone power!” Three cheers.

Okay, Eight’s in no position to fight anymore, and so that option is gone. Remind me to send everyone to basic training with Granite next time.

”Five, speed boost. Grab the sword, and flee there! Don’t let the griffon lose you!” I ping a certain familiar place on the map of Brauheim. Thankfully, we’re fairly close.

With Five rushing off, the griffon ignores everyone else, shrugs off another offensive cube from Seven, and follows her.

So, I’ve found the right place to fight. Now I need to figure out how to. Step by step.

The griffon is now slower due to the leg wound I inflicted, but all that means is that he’s using his bolt weapon to corral Five and slow her down. Luckily for her, because she doesn’t need her love to outrun the griffon anymore, she can use everything to enhance her senses and agility. Come to think about it, she’s completely full, and same goes for Two. The problem is that even if they both poured everything into Eight, it would take time and achieve too little with the heavy wound she would have to heal quickly.

We’ve successfully left Eight behind, out of danger. The neck hole which would have killed pretty much any other species aside from a dragon will take a while to heal, but I know she won’t die.

Several minutes of careful chase later, we’ve overtaken Five and the griffon, and we’re hovering just under the grand bridge. Five is still okay, as it seems the griffon is out of ammo for his weapon now, and she’s managed to weather the storm with only scratches. Scratches that are still heavily bleeding, gaping tears in her chitin and flesh, but considering what the bolt weapon can do are still just scratches.

First, I need to limit the enemy’s ability to fight. Without a moment of surprise that won’t be possible. As the griffon reaches the spot of the bridge where we’re hiding, I fly upwards, still hidden from sight by the huge pillars holding the gargantuan structure.

I aim, the griffon passes by…

...and I lob Three right at him.

A metal helmet forms around the griffon’s head, pieces sliding out of the armor’s backplate, which Three hits with a harmless ‘thunk!’.

He crawls on the see-through front of the unexpected piece of headgear.

“FACEHUGGER THREE!”

The griffon slows down further, now plodding on three legs as he grabs Three and tries to pry him off.

“I AM THE BEST HUGGER, YOU CAN’T GET ME OFF!” the drone screams, high-pitched and mostly trying to give himself courage when faced with the griffon’s already crazy strength enhanced by the Imperial power armor.

Realizing that getting rid of Three would likely involve blowing his own head off, the griffon wraps his talons around the small drone’s entire barrel…

...and spins him around on the smooth surface of his helmet, his vision now obstructed only by Three’s forelegs instead of his whole body.

“NECKHUGGER THREE!”

Crap, that bought us way less time than I hoped. Alright, backup backup backup plan… do we give him the sword? No, that would lose us our only leverage in case he wanted to kills us afterwards.

What would One do? Nevermind, she wasn’t able to seduce him, so I doubt anything else of that kind we can do will work.

Two? She’s currently screaming mental commands interwoven with obscenities at the griffon. Sadly, while the commands are good, the griffon simply doesn’t care.

Eight? Last time she got him through his sheer stupidity, but…

Now we have a proof he’s not a mindless killing machine hanging around his neck.

”Five, stop near the edge,” I say when I recall something important Hard Hat said. I thought about things in the wrong way, ”You’ll know what to do.”

”Do I throw the sword down?” she asks.

”Nope.”

Eight’s gonna get a present to show how happy I am to have her back, it just won’t be everything she hoped for. I’ll have to make it up to her later.

Five is standing firm as the griffon rushes towards her. Now I understand why Six admires her dedication to duty.

”Three, brick mode! LEFT.”

”Whuh?” the drone catches on quickly, swings around the griffon’s neck, pours all his love into hard and heavy chitin, and drops straight under his left foreleg.

The griffon stumbles as he punts Three into the darkness. However, his left hind leg that I slashed can’t bear his weight, and Five jumps to the side, giving the griffon one final kick which sends him over the edge of the bridge into the endless depth. I hear a panicked eagle’s screech followed by completely ineffective flapping of the griffon’s wings.

As Hard Hat said, those armors are very, very heavy. I was just hoping they couldn’t fly on their own. Plus, from Three’s exploration of this area, I know there’s a vast river of magma down in the darkness.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” a second, higher-pitched voice is almost drowned out by the griffon’s screaming.

”Three, you can fly.”

”Oh, right!” he stops eee-ing, changes his chitin’s weight, and in few moments he’s buzzing around me again as we all gather on the bridge, Eight limping to us as well. Five gives me the Blade of the First Emperor, which I present to Eight.

“Well, Eight, you’re not getting all your toys, but you’ve sure earned this one,” I say. She grabs it, and gives it a practice swing, “And no chain sword or power armor until you’re older,” I chuckle.

She lets the sword hover next to her not to hinder her walking.

“Looks like I’m your sword in more ways than one now, boss,” she licks her lips, “And I’m gonna UNITE the first dark priest I see so hard...” she coughs out blood, “Damn… Three hop on my back, will you?”

“Yay, I’m a bandaid!”

“Indeed, Three. You’re a drone of many talents,” Eight smiles.

20: GRAAAAAAAAAAAANIIIIIIIIIIIITEEEEEEEEE!

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Out of sheer spite against fate for sending the griffon Imperial Guard at us again, hopefully for the last time, because if he survived THAT, I’m personally carrying the sword for him back home no matter what Eight says, we decided to keep going with our today’s media trip. After Hard Hat’s recount of events for the three or however many newspapers following us, and our own story about what happened after we split up with the miners, Eight ordered someone to bring her a proper scabbard for a sword completely out of dwarven size and weapon category. To her surprise, an hour of us resting later, a freshly made sheath got to her, and now she’s wearing the sword on her back.

Unfortunately, while the mining part was boring for Eight, this one is taking a heavy toll on both of us. Not because it’s dull, but because we can’t understand a thing. Long story short, Hard Reset took us on a trip into one of the geothermal power plants deep under Brauheim, the most well-maintained and replicated piece of their ancestors’ technology. At the moment, the only piece of the lecture I get is that geothermal means ‘heat coming from the ground’, the rest is an enema.

Wait, no. Enigma.

After one too many synchronized yawns with Eight, Hard Reset smiles at us and ends the lecture.

“Too much?” asks the young engineer. Eight nods immediately.

“I don’t mean to be rude, really,” I rub my eyes, “But this technology thing is all too much for us. You see, most things you consider normal or common knowledge is what we’re hearing about for the first time. Back in the hive, we lived without heat, and the only lights we had were made from our bioluminescent goop, which I still don’t know how to make anyway. I appreciate you trying to explain this,” I circle my hoof around the interior of the power plant control room, “but this is simply beyond our understanding.”

“Don’t worry about that,” our admission doesn’t curb Hard Reset’s enthusiasm, “Engineers usually spend a decade or two at school before applying their knowledge to good use. You should have seen the faces of some of my students. You are at least honest about it. However, if you want to learn the basics, I can arrange some tutoring.”

”Guys, you wanna learn how technology works? Maybe in case we needed to fix something or make some… device thingies?” I feel dumber just talking like this. The hive images of others appear in the hive mind darkness immediately.

”I’m sure I would enjoy the complexity,” Seven answers immediately, ”but magic is already an unstable force with its own set of laws I’ve barely scratched the surface of, and I’m sitting in the library full time. Order is an order, of course, but I’d prefer focusing on one thing.”

”I don’t mind,” the mental image of Six shrugs, ”Digging is great and all, but it can get a little repetitive. I’m not Three, I can’t do it forever. Count me in!”

Well, you’re making it painfully obvious that you weren’t raised in Chrysalis’ hive. Drones dig and carry stuff. Drones that don’t, they go crunch.

”Good, anyone else?”

”Well, I would, boss, but can’t we just nicely ask things to work? You know I’m not the smartest hole in a leg,” Three’s ears droop.

”Don’t worry about that, Three. There will always be a need for a diggy diggy drone. Plus, hugging machines to make them function again doesn’t wor-” a golden hoof stops my answer, followed by the rest of Scream gradually appearing as well.

”Don’t. Tempt. Fate. With. Him. Or. It. Will!” she hisses and disappears. I just shrug. At this stage, I’ve learned to accept things as they come. Besides, my original point stands. Three’s genuinely good at what he does.

”You know, I am actually interested,” Five raises her ethereal hoof, ”That bolt weapon the griffon used gave me an idea. Since I likely won’t live long enough to surpass Eight in power, I should focus on an area where we’re painfully defenseless. If they teach me how to operate, maintain, or even craft some interesting weapons, I’m all ears. Or holes if it helps move things along, I don’t mind getting some lust along the way.”

”Hey, we can learn together!” Six beams at Five who gives him a flat glance.

”Yes, we can,” she just shrugs in the end.

”Yessss!” Six punches the air quietly, seemingly okay with everyone watching him.

”Two, what about you?” I ask the unusually quiet member of our group.

She taps her hooves against the ground.

”I-I’d rather not, boss. I’m having enough trouble with the mental and magic stuff already. It’s not going well,” she adds in a whisper, ”...I don’t need another thing to suck at...”

”Alright, everyone. I’ll arrange some practical course for you with Hard Reset’s guys. I’m sure they’ll be able to accommodate your interests.”

“It’s like this-” out loud, I start talking to Hard Reset about the lessons and specifics, which takes the rest of our allotted time.

Inside, though, I immediately link up with Two.

”Two, is it really that bad? I thought it was going well with Scream.”

”It.. wasn’t,” she raises her hooves defensively to her chest, ”It’s not her fault, I swear. You see, I was asking Seven for help, because I just… every time I try it just goes wrong, then Scream got involved, and everything she did with me and failed worked wonders for him. I tried on my own again, but… I’m just no good at either fighting or magic.”

”Oh Two...” I hug smart bug, but she pushes me away, determined scrunch on her muzzle.

”So I decided to focus on my strength as you said, boss, but I need help in that as well. I can affect changelings other than you or… Eight just fine. I just can’t do it for anyone else unless I bite or kiss them. I tried on Topaz and some other dwarves while we were off hunting with Five. The problem is… well, you saw how useful I was at fighting the griffon brute. Five said that my role as an infiltrator would be to prevent battles rather than win them, but when I saw you all in danger today, fighting together, and I couldn’t think of ANYTHING to do to help… it hurt, dad.”

I sigh.

”I wish I could help you, Two, but the way I do commands is exactly the same as you - on us via hive links. That’s why I use them supportively to help us push through pain, to be free from the control of others, and so on. To affect someone else, I must bite them as well. However, I know it is possible. My good friend and Eight’s rival One who was killed by paladins in Las Pegasus was able to control others without contact, so I know it’s possible. Keep trying, Two. I know that if anyone can figure out how to do it, then it’s you.”

”You’re wrong,” a new hive link shadow appears behind Two, this one belonging to Eight.

”Eight?”

”What do YOU know?!” Two barks out at her, ”I MIGHT be able to figure it out! You just punch things!”

”You’re both wrong about using mental commands without contact or magic. There’s nothing of that sort. The fact that my body isn’t made to use them effectively doesn’t mean I don’t know the theory. You see, good infiltrators know how to affect every sense of ponies and other species to gain control over them. One was… as perfect changeling as I’ve ever met in more than her role. She knew how to assault your sight, your ears, your nose, everything. She could control your whole world from the moment you met her. You could protect yourself from most angles, and she’d still find a hole in your armor.”

”How?” Two can’t help asking despite still scowling at Eight.

”Smell - pheromones. As soon as you picked her scent, or even walked through a place she prepared beforehoof, even much earlier, her scent would be locked inside your brain, and when you met her again, you would obey. I can do that to only a miniscule degree, because as a warrior I’m made to always force a situation where I can use my venom directly and bite. If you somehow kept your distance, perhaps you were hidden behind a door, but you could still hear her, she could control her vocal chords in such a way that would make you suggestible, blow up your lust through the roof, and eventually make your brain melt from your crotch. As for sight, it’s a transformation trick and overall motion. Ponies are susceptible to certain colors flashing at certain frequencies, that’s why when a changeling is trying to hypnotize you, it looks as if their eyes were flashing. She might supplement that effect with some swaying motion of her body, maybe buzzing her wings at right speed. And of course, there’s the touch method - venomous saliva, sweat, blood, other juices, everything. You need to understand one thing - the true power of THE perfect infiltrator, one better than Chrysalis herself, the control she could easily exert over most others was a result of her knowledge and her control over herself. The only one immune in the end was me.”

”H-How?” Two can’t help staring in awe at Eight now despite her feelings towards her.

”Because I gave up complete control over myself to someone I trusted without a shred of doubt or hesitation. There is no mental control in the world that would break my loyalty anymore.”

”To me, Two,” I give Eight a quick bow which she returns, ”She isn’t like any other changeling to me, even Three. She is my life, and I am hers. Our hive link used to be different as well, but that changed when my body was rebuilt inside One’s cocoon. I know you don’t like her, and I understand why. To be frank, I’m a bit mad about what she did too, but understand that she’s on my side, and will be.”

”I hope it helped, at least a little. I’ll bundle my knowledge about the subject into the hive mind so that you can use it once we regain some love spent today. It’s about damn time we started using it as the knowledge repository that it’s meant to be, not just for communication. Speaking of which, boss, it’s time for our next media performance,” Eight disappears.

”I could go for the hug now,” squeaks Two.

I’m not one to argue with reasonable requests.

***

“Umm, Geode?” I ask the usually quiet council mare responsible for social services, “Why are we here, and where is here?”

The house we’re in right now looks rather strange, more like a prison or something. The hallway is lined with small, soundproof rooms with a small, barred window each. Maybe it’s just the dim, red light everywhere, but it feels creepy. Granted, if the light was green, I’d be right at home. Maybe I should pitch an idea to the council myself. You know, dig our own section of the mine and make it more like a hive.

The meek mare smiles at me.

“This is the daycare center for southern Brauheim. While parents are away at work, they can drop their foals off in here for the day.”

That said, there’s no aura of happily playing foals anywhere around.

“Mind if I take a look?” I walk over to the nearest door.

“Only through the window, please,” Geode’s smile never leaves her muzzle as she nods agrees.

Inside, in the blood-red darkness, a foal with a small axe is darting back and forth to avoid biting mouths of strange creatures which I haven’t seen before shackled to the walls.

Eight joins me, beams, and claps her hooves together.

“Hey, that’s pretty neat!”

“That’s horrible!” I turn towards Geode surprised by my outburst, “That’s like what we drones had to do at home to amuse higher ranks! I think only like five of us survived one particularly boring day before the invasion.”

“Huuuuh,” Geode tilts her head, clearly not understanding, “It makes them strong and tough. We’ve got medical staff at hoof so that they don’t get too badly hurt. Once they get older and can stay at home alone or join some clubs, they’re ready to face whatever the depths throw at them.”

“Oh, well… we didn’t have that...” I pout, “We just died and got recycled.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” now Geode looks about to cry.

YOU don’t get to say that after showing me this!

“You know, I kinda like this. Reminds me of my hazing when I got to top fifty. I had to ride through the hive on a Badlands scorpion with no love. Aaaah, good times,” Eight’s expression softens for a moment, before her ears perk up, “Hey, can we drop Two off here? Since she wants to be challenged and stuff.”

“Over my melted chitin!” I stomp that idea once and for all.

“Sooo,” Eight ignores my outburst, and nudges Geode, “Those biters in there looked harmless, but do you, like, use them for smaller foals too?”

“Oh no, no no no, that would be too dangerous-”

THIS IS ALL TOO DANGEROUS!

“-Smaller foals get smaller creatures. The youngest get these tiny crabs who can barely pierce the skin, but the nipping hurts.”

“Neat, and what about the older ones?”

“The oldest ones, or the particularly bad seeds, they get… the carp,” Geode finishes with a whisper and a shudder.

Eight raises an eyebrow.

“What’s so bad about fish, especially one with crap teeth? Heh, carp, crap...” Eight chuckles, “I think I even recall a warrior who used to stick his dick into their mouths because he was sick of other changelings. He was weird like that.”

“I hesitate to ask what happened next...” I roll my eyes, feeling very precognizant right now.

“It actually became quite a movement within the hive for a while when we had no access to new broodmares and pony pets. Then the adventurous guy met a lamprey eel for the first AND the last time. On the other heavily bleeding hole, he was the first higher tier changeling I ate after he bled out. I can still remember the crunching of his chitin… ahhh...”

What’s a lamp-

Eight shares the memory with me. My stomach revolves.

Confused Geode simply waits until Eight returns from the memory lane, and says:

“I suppose carps are just a dwarven thing then. Anyway, that concludes my portion of today. Foal care isn’t a particularly adventurous vocation, but when you see the little guys grow-”

And lose a limb or two along the way.

“-it’s all worth it. I just wanted to thank you personally for the changes you allowed. Quite a lot of stallions wanted joined since then, and most of them are a blessing. Colts need somepony to show them how to properly mutilate a vampire bat in complete darkness.”

You’re all freaking crazy. I’m seriously contemplating Chrysalis’ idea of just jamming everypony into cocoons and have changelings rule the world.

“Ehm, thank you,” is all I say in the end.

Thankfully, this one was short, and with some luck, the next one will be the same.

Why? Because it’s with Black Soil, and it’s a tour through a moss farm.

The dwarven mare knows what our media trip is about, and does understand that there’s pretty much no way her occupation is going to raise our profile as good rulers, but takes the trip seriously, explaining moisture distribution, various kinds of fertilizers, and everything related to growing food underground.

Come to think about it, the tale of the griffon Emperor means that dwarves used to have good contacts with the surface, or at least their mysterious ancestors had. Right now, as far as I know, Steelback is the only direct non-dwarf anyone speaks with. And us, of course.

Anyway, the dark green mare with brown mane who looks as if she was grown on the moss farm herself finishes her lecture, and gives Eight a small pot as if for a plant. Inside, there is some fresh soil and quickly spreading moss. My eyes quickly linger on her unusually wide hips, before I focus on the presented gift.

“It starts growing so fast you can see it, and when it covers the available surface, it stops spreading, and starts growing into depth and nutrition- HEY, WHAT?” she immediately snatches the quickly withering and blackening moss pot from Eight’s hooves, “H-How?” she looks genuinely sad about the quick demise of the plant- mushroom- whatever the damn thing is.

Eight shrugs.

“I guess I’m not much of a farmer.”

“B-But… but it’s moss...” Black Soil stutters, “It grows everywhere. On its own even.”

“Remind me to never give you a pet, Eight,” I comment.

“Meh, you know I prefer being one,” she just shrugs.

I pat Black Soil’s back.

“Growing things reeeeeally isn’t our strength. We don’t eat plants or meat, and all our attempts at farming ponies ended as devastating failures for us. But thank you very much for explaining how things work anyway. It’s good to know things about our current home, even though it might be temporary.”

The small but overly-endowed mare gives me a bright smile, and leads us along with the few remaining media dwarves taking pictures of us on the farm.

Iron Rose meets us outside, waves Black Soil off, and leads us few streets away into what looks like a small bar. I was expecting it to be empty due to complete lack of internal lighting, but there’s quite a few dwarves sitting around and chatting. I guess you don’t need much light to run a bar as long as you have liquor.

“Hey, bartender, give us something that melts steel beams,” she sits us down to a corner table, then shoo’s the media away, “Show’s over for today. I want to talk to the king and queen in private. Council business.”

Disappointed, our today’s retinue disperses, and Iron Rose joins us at the table.

“I heard what happened today, and I thought you could use some rest,” she smiles, “So just unwind, and have a drink.”

The bartender brings us a metal mug each, and for once I have the chance to actually taste what is inside my mouth instead of just pretending to be a dwarf while thinking about something completely unrelated. Not that I can digest it, but I think about drinking more as reloading.

Tastes faintly of apples for some reason.

“You know, I’m surprised things stayed mostly the same even though the city isn’t at war with itself anymore,” I say. Iron Rose had contacts on both sides of the barricade, so she knows the most about dwarves’ overall mood.

“Reason prevailed in the end,” she takes a sip herself, “And as much a others want to blame queen here for all resulting trouble, I’m not so narrow-minded. No matter the reasons, past year opened a conversation we genuinely needed for decades. To be honest, Granite wanted us to talk, because he believes you two are the hope for a better Brauheim, and that change is coming. To me, that feels overly optimistic. You see, our worst enemy has retreated for now, but this isn’t a victory by any means. This is the calm before the storm.”

“Who do you mean as the worst enemy?” I ask while Eight’s ears twitch, and she looks around, “This ‘darkness’ or whatever the prophecy meant?”

“No, I mean dark priests themselves. This wasn’t just some simple dispute about morals. You must understand that what they truly want deep down is control, and they will try to take it back. What’s worse, us dwarves will give it to them again.”

“What? I thought both Eight and I brought change and freedom.”

“For how long? A year in case of queen, and few weeks under you,” Iron Rose shakes her head, chugs the rest of her mug, and orders another one, “You must understand the magnitude of what you’re facing, and that is the essence of dwarfdom. Millennia of traditions, rituals, habits, and the worst part - way of thinking of the second oldest civilization on the face of Equus, albeit one in… drastic decline,” she sighs, “All the dark priests need is to threaten anyone to declare them a non-dwarf, and they will do anything to prevent that, because the declaration will spread, and said non-dwarf won’t find home anywhere here again. These ‘heretics’ will have to leave for the surface which they or their families haven’t seen in generations or more likely ever.”

“That’s a pretty stupid superstition,” sneers Eight, “The non-dwarf thing, I mean. I completely agree that those bald assholes will try something again.”

Iron Rose just blinks when faced with Eight’s complete dismissal of this obscure dwarf thing.

“Superstition or not, you will have to work around it.”

“Not really, no,” I shoot her down.

“What do you mean?”

“I think you’re projecting what you want on me, and by you I mean dwarves,” I glare at her, “You want me to save your asses and take the blame if things don’t work out. After all, you were afraid that dwarves would respect the ruler’s authority no matter who it was that you wanted me to abdicate part of my power to the council, which I agreed with because I didn’t want to stay here forever anyway. Things have changed somewhat, but if you want progress, or if you want to at least keep what little you gained, YOU will have to fight tradition for it. If YOU give it up, YOU will lose everything. I won’t. I’ve accomplished my goal here which was to find Eight. You’re making our stay here beneficial, but we can simply leave tomorrow and then what?”

Iron Rose bites her lip.

“But how do you justify fighting against somepony who believes they’re doing the best they can for you? You heard them in the vault. They truly believe they’re saving us all.”

“Look, I’m not saying I won’t do my best to help, but you must understand that this is your fight first and foremost, not mine. And if you can’t find the strength to resist, then you will lose. We won’t fight a war only you want for you. Not again,” I sigh, recalling the vision about poor Wistful, “We can be your partners, but we won’t be your tools.”

I finish my drink and stand up.

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’m exhausted, and I’ve said everything I wanted to about this idea. You know that I’m more than eager to kick the ass of the first dark priest I see, but as I said - this is your fight.”

Iron Rose closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath.

“I understand. I guess hoping for a hero, some bright beacon who would sort out all our troubles for us, was wishful thinking.”

“And don’t forget lazy,” adds Eight.

“True,” Iron Rose pays the bartender, and when we leave, she salutes, “Have a restful evening, your Majesties.”

“You too,” I answer, “We all deserve a moment of peace.”

***

And we actually had one. Eight’s libido very temporarily sated, we both told the dwarf guards not to let anyone bother us under the pain of pain, and we simply slept through the evening and night, until, despite our orders, knocking on the door woke both of us up.

“Hmmm,” I yawn, “I think I’ve slept through my cranky stage and am feeling merciful.”

Blinking my sleepiness away, I open the door on the other side of which a nervous guard stutters:

Am I that scary?

No, obviously. Eight is right behind me.

“I’m s-sorry to w-wake you up, but you have an urgent guest from loremaster Granite, your M-Majesties.”

“Urgent?” I furrow my brows, “Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, king,” says a calm, clearly female but deep voice of a mare standing next to a different dwarf guard who I don’t think is from our door. Damn, I don’t know anything about how guards organize stuff. She’s not wearing anything, but her companion is pulling a small cart with various weapons and pieces of armor. She bows so deep her muzzle touches the floor, and I can’t avoid noticing her absolutely perfect figure, “My name is Battlecry, and loremaster Granite along with Iron Rose sent me to assist you with your physical training, and to figure out how to make use of your unique fighting style.”

Until now, I had no idea dwarves know what makeup is, doubly so how to use it to make my jaw drop a little.

In short, Battlecry might be the most beautiful pony mare I’ve ever seen, even though she’s basically an earthpony scaled down. Her amber coat is shiny in the light of the lamps, her cheek-short, rusty mane is tucked behind her ears not to impair her vision, and while she’s giving me a soft, confident smile, the stare of her bright, piercing green eyes shows no weakness. Physically… she’s something changelings transform into to stun everypony around them. Similar to Eight in a way, her muscles bulge under her coat, but she’s nowhere as bulky. In short, despite clearly being a warrior, she’s first and foremost a mare and she’s proud of it.

Waaaaaaaaaait, more important thing than booty… LIGHTS ARE WORKING!

“I see...” the answer in a tone that could freeze the sea isn’t mine, but Eight’s.

Great, now I’m going to have to explain that I really don’t consider this absolutely stunning mare pretty at all, and that Eight’s definitely-not-jealous for no reason.

Granite, you sly bastard…

Well, Battlecry, don’t blame me if your boss finds you next year in some hidden air vent bloated with eggs.

21: There's buggery afoot- ahoof- ahole.

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Battlecry salutes, her deep voice not wavering under Eight’s death glare.

“You are welcome to join as well, queen. Same goes for any changelings you wish to bring.”

“Why aren’t you wearing armor like all other dwarves?” asks Eight.

“Most dwarves, queen,” Battlecry tilts her head and smiles at me without glancing Eight’s way, “Some of us would do anything to repay the king the freedom he stands for, and I mean anything. I am strong enough not to need to hide behind my armor all the time. My assistant here,” she nods to the dwarf with the fully loaded cart, “is hauling everything I might need during our session.”

“...did he bring a fucking shovel…?” grumbles Eight.

“Yes. Yes, he did,” Battlecry finally looks directly at Eight, “Although we normally don’t use those unless we’re fighting in more open spaces.”

Eight’s eye twitches.

She must know that no matter how astonishing Battlecry looks, how confident she is and, if Granite picked her for more than just to piss Eight off, how good of a fighter she is-

Oh… Eight senses how I feel about the dwarf. THAT’S why the sudden animosity. I guess our link is deepening quickly. That also means I can’t really do much about that, especially when I know Eight’s history of jealousy. The good part is that she eventually became friends with One, so there’s that hope.

I sigh.

Let’s just get this over with.

“Battlecry, lead the way. Eight, do you want to join?” I make my executive decision.

“Obviously,” Eight puts her hoof under her chin, giving Battlecry a cold, appraising stare, “I can’t leave you alone in the hooves of someone who’s seeing a changeling for the first time. Who knows what she might get into her head.”

As long as it’s not your eggs, I’m generally okay with whatever.

Battlecry leads the way through the castle to the lower floors. It’s still strange to walk through a multi-story building underground, especially when the rest of the city is flat like Battlecry’s stomach.

No, bad changeling! Stop staring at the dwarf booty swaying in front of you. Besides, she wouldn’t likely survive anything you did with Eight.

Sometimes I miss the days of being just a drone and not having to think about these things.

Soon, we enter a wider, open room without any decorations other than beige training dummies of various sizes made from some rubbery but firm material. Battlecry’s assistant starts unloading his equipment by the door while she picks various pieces up and begins putting them on. When it comes to the heavy boots for her hind legs, Battlecry winks at me and flicks her tail.

“King, mind helping me with those?”

“Heh, what sort of a fighter can’t put on their own armor?” sneers Eight, blocking my way immediately.

Battlecry shrugs, but I can see a spark of amusement in her eyes.

“It would be faster, that’s all. But if you want to go slow, I’m game too,” she plops her plot on the floor, and fastens the leather straps of her boots to fit right.

Is steam coming out of Eight’s ears? No, that can’t be it.

”You’re nailing both of them later, right?” Scream appears, sitting on the floor and stretching her forelegs.

”SCREAM? WHAT?!” Eight’s composure breaks completely, ”What are you-? STOP GIVING HIM IDEAS!”

”I didn’t hear you complaining when I gave him ideas while the two of you were gooping all over the cellar,” Scream retorts, grinning.

”...great, now how do I prevent a murder, or at least explain it convincingly…?”

”That was different!” Eight seems to have completely forgotten about Battlecry for a moment, ”Why are you here anyway?”

”Long story,” Scream shrugs dismissively, ”I’m busy, boss bug makes for some fun relaxation. Now back to my original question. Boss bug, you’re banging both that underground fleshlight and your berserking swiss cheese here, right?”

”We met like ten minutes ago, Scream,” I sigh.

”So… later?” she smiles at Eight whose eyes are now bulging, and despite it being biologically impossible, I think, there’s a vein throbbing on her forehead.

”You want fleshlight?! I’ll give you fleshlight. I’ll rip that fucking dwarf whore’s legs and head off, and pull her insides out through her asshole! Then you can wear her around your cock or whatever you want.”

She advances towards now suited up Battlecry who seems undisturbed by the visage of approaching death in the form of Eight.

”Holes damn it, Scream!” I facehoof.

”I always aim to please,” the alicorn beams.

“Eight, stop!” I say firmly. She freezes, waiting. Of course, if I tell her to back off completely, that will do nothing good for her bubbling jealousy, but I can’t just allow her to brutalize and likely sodomize the poor dwarf. I mean, Battlecry looks confident in her plate armor, but if I let Eight have a go at her like this, she’s basically just ketchup in a can.

“I’ll show you that there’s nothing about combat she can teach you that I can’t,” Eight growls, not moving an inch.

Battlecry cracks her neck. Judging by her expression, she obviously knows what’s going on and probably that I was checking her out all the way here. How to play this out so that no one gets hurt? Better yet, how to play this out so that I gain something out of this?

I smile. I might be a crappy fighter, but my decisions are for the betterment of my hive. That’s all.

“Eight, you are free to appraise Battlecry’s skill, but it will be skill, not strength,” I say. Both mares look at me.

“What do you mean, boss?”

“That this will be about technique Battlecry can teach us. I know that if you used love to fight like you usually do, with strength, dexterity, and toughness no one can match, this would be pointless. BUT we’re low on love-”

”I’ve got some grand ideas on how you three can refill afterw-” Scream opens her mouth.

-”SHUT UP!”-

Not. Now.

“-and so I want you to fight with only minor enhancements, and no in-combat transformation. Prepare all you need beforehoof. I am certain you will outclass Battlecry physically anyway, but if it’s possible she can help you in the skill department, I want to use her.”

“If I win, I will use her as an egg sack,” growls Eight, calming down a little. Green fire envelops her legs, and her traditional curved saw blades grow on the back of each.

“Awww, I was going to ask for that anyway,” chuckles Battlecry, matching Eight’s glare by licking her lips, “Now I’ve got an incentive to throw this fight,” with another laugh, she bonks her hoof against her helmet as if she recalled something, “Oh wait, not from you, but from the king.”

Eight is grinding her teeth, only waiting for my command to start the fight. Scream leans to my ear and whispers:

”Don’t flatter yourself too much, boss bug. While that dwarf cock sock IS interested in you somewhat, I can feel her lust or lack thereof, and she’s doing this mostly just to make punch bug go berserk.”

In a way, that’s actually good.

With a nod, I say:

“Alright, go for it.”

The dance of death begins.

Eight is still blindingly quick, and her punching hoof misses Battlecry so tightly her mane sways in the air. The dwarf seems to have expected it, and her reserved dodge is followed by a quick swing of the back end of her axe which bears a hook. She accurately threads the metal through a hole in Eight’s leg, and with a pull she leads the warrior along a line on three legs. A normal pony would stumble on all threes while being pulled forward by their fourth leg, but Eight is by far not one, and she’s way too used to close encounters of the pugilistic kind.

Against all force to the contrary, Eight simply stomps her caught foreleg down, tearing Battlecry’s axe off of its leather strap around her fetlock, making the much smaller dwarf by her side stumble. She follows it up with a wide swing of her other foreleg straight against Battlecry’s temple.

The dwarf thinks quickly, slipping under Eight’s, and ramming the spike on the top of her second axe into Eight’s belly. Eight’s secondary armor holds, but the spike sliding along still scores a deep scratch into Eight unarmored chitin on the lower part of her chest.

Said position, however, is perfect for Eight to steady herself on her legs, and punt Battlecry away. Even with her armor, the dwarf clearly wasn’t expecting that, and Eight immediately closes the kicked gap, raises her foreleg, and stomps down.

To Battlecry’s credit, even the shock of the situation didn’t make her drop her axe, which she now grabs with both forelegs, blade raised to meet Eight’s crater-making stomp.

Eight screams when her leg splits in half on the sharp edge, her own strength betraying her. Battlecry twists her hooves, and the agony makes Eight push herself off with three legs, and she lands on her side. As Eight jumps back up, her foreleg sealing up on the surface, Battlecry uses the moment of respite to dart forward for her previously lost second axe, and reattaches it to the damaged strap.

Eight isn’t bleeding anymore, and her foreleg is in one piece, but she’s limping and gasping heavily. Her love level hasn’t moved noticeably, so she’s abiding by the rules of using only the most basic abilities.

The two clash again and again, Eight now much more careful around Battlecry, blocking her strikes with the hardened blades on her legs rather than trying to take the blows and inflict more damage in return. Battlecry senses the change of pace as well, slowing the fight down now that she knows Eight has cooled down and isn’t going to get easily baited to eat a devastating counterattack.

“Hey, king,” Battlecry calls out, “How about you send this roided brute off to the gym so that the two of us can do some proper training.”

Eight doesn’t attack or react in any way, and Battlecry finally assesses it’s completely serious now.

After circling around each other for a while, it’s clear that Battlecry’s strength is defense, and it’s up to Eight to start something. First exchange of blows leaves Eight with a shallow scratch on her neck. She attacks over and over, measuring various approaches and Battlecry’s response. For some reason, though, it’s now Battlecry who is on the offensive, with Eight blocking the axe strikes with her reinforced leg blades.

As one swift duel ends, Battlecry drops one axe, and grabs a hammer from a belt around her barrel instead. Eight goes for another trade, and quickly regrets it when instead of eating another barely dangerous glancing blow from Battlecry, the dwarf goes for her leg instead of her neck. Battlecry reads the incoming swing completely, hooks Eight’s hole like in the beginning, but instead of trying to outmuscle the changeling, she lets Eight stomp the axe down while using her pirouette to slam down the hammer spinning around her other foreleg onto the chiting blades on the back of Eight’s held leg, shearing off all the jagged edges in one blow.

Eight screams and flails around in pain and panic, tossing Battlecry away. Is she… losing? The growing wounds are certainly making it look like it.

With one foreleg disarmed but regenerated into a usable degree, Eight begins her onslaught. While she looks like a rabid beast jumping around, biting the air, slashing everywhere, Battlecry is dancing, dodging, avoiding taking damage despite her heavy armor. Occasionally, she manages to counterattack the storm of teeth and sharp chitin that is Eight, leaving more and more bleeding scratches all over her chest, sides, and even one slashing the side of her mouth into a horrifying smile.

Eight doesn’t stop, though. She doesn’t even slow down. Battlecry, however, does.

”Damn, punch bug is smart!” Scream grins, ”Won’t take long.”

”She’s getting diced,” I say in disbelief, ”Should I let Eight go all out?”

”Only if you want to piss her off even more than on the off chance that she loses.”

”But she IS going to lose!”

”Shush, your green is showing. Punch bug realized she wouldn’t win if she fought like before, but she still has one insurmountable advantage over the dwarf, and she’ll win soon.”

Several trades leaving Eight with more bleeding gashes later, Battlecry, gasping for breath, quickly snaps her warhammer to the belt on her chest, and flicks her hoof in a way that reveals a thin slot in her foreleg armor and a tiny nozzle - a more advanced version of the standard dwarven flamethrower.

I hear the ‘whoosh!’ of the fuel igniting, but at that point, Eight is already standing in front of Battlecry, her previously mangled foreleg shoved right against the nozzle.

Everything goes red as an expanding ball of fire envelops the two, and I jump up to lend a helping hoof.

The fuel burns out quickly and with barely any smoke, revealing Battlecry crawling back up on all fours with Eight striding towards her like a smoldering, unstoppable menace, the ends of her mane and tail still burning.

Battlecry stands up, looks straight at Eight, then reaches for the strap of her helmet and takes it off. With a nod of one warrior to another, she says:

“I yield. Damn, I’m gonna have nightmares about this for-urk!” her eyes bulge when Eight grows claws on her foreleg, and drags Battlecry up by her neck to her eye height, armor or not.

“Eight!” I rush over. She lowers the choking dwarf back on all fours.

“You win,” says Eight, walks to a wall where she sits down, and starts focusing love to her repeatedly demolished foreleg for more than surface healing. This is more than vaguely similar to her fights with One. I was stupid to think Eight hasn’t changed in this regard. In my defense, she didn’t give me much reason against it.

Now freed, Battlecry quickly strips her armor off, peeling away the protective leather underlay which got baked by the explosion. She herself, however, is drenched with sweat and shaking, but otherwise only heavily bruised.

“King, if you don’t mind, I would ask you to postpone our practice for, let’s say, tomorrow. I’m exhausted, and I would feel bad not being an example and just telling you what to do. Despite my... arguable loss, however, I hope you will seek out my services anyway, as I still think I may be of use.”

“I told you you didn’t lose,” Eight raises her voice without looking at us, “Boss wanted this battle to be about technique and skill. Under those terms, I lost. I am faster, I am stronger, I am tougher than anyone else you will ever meet, but… I don’t know how to fight?”

Battlecry takes few steps towards Eight, but doesn’t approach her completely.

“With all due respect, you know perfectly what your weapons are, those blade legs and all, but you didn’t know what I could do. I believe some technique training with me could help even you, although I’d like to face you on full power. Have you thought about adding some long-range weapons to your repertoire?”

“No. I will fight with my hooves and my strength. If a… gadget wins for me, then I don’t deserve my rank.”

Battlecry simply nods.

“I disagree with that sentiment, but I can respect it. To me, victory achieved by any means for my city is still a victory as long as I don’t stab my enemy’s back in the dark. If they have a flamethrower, then I’m not going to force a melee fight.”

“If someone is foolish enough to pull out a flamethrower against my king, I will walk through inferno to shove my hoof through their skull, and the solid rock behind it.”

Battlecry smiles.

“You know, I believe you, and I apologize for my previous attempts at enraging you by teasing the king. Although I admit that I was only half joking. I heard some interesting rumors about changeling traits, which might be… attractive to certain kind of dwarf.”

I clear my throat, making them both look at me.

“Let’s leave the option of filling you with eggs for some other time, although I’m certain that if Eight had her way with you, the resulting brood of changeling warriors would be sexy, adorably tiny, and completely unstoppable. I know that the goal here was to teach ME how to use my skills effectively, but I’m also fully aware that my best defensive option is to have Eight as well-trained as possible. Would you mind if I add Five to the practice as well? She had interest in complex weapons, and classic changeling combat with Eight can’t hurt. Or, you know, maybe basic physical routine for everyone?”

“You’re not talking your way out of this,” Eight stands up, testing her restored leg and wincing, “Battlecry, get instructing. Once you get him in shape, I’m sure we can make all those bedroom rumors about us pale in comparison. You, boss, drop and give me fifty!”

***

“Heya, Seven,” Two waves at the reading changeling, visiting the library for the second time.

“Good to see you, Two,” Seven smiles back, his resting villain face brightening up instantly, “Are you up for some more practice?”

Two lets out a heavy sigh.

“Yeah...” she sits down on the carpet, raises her hoof, and conjures up a soft ball of warm light with ease. This is all she’s been able to do whenever she tried, and compared to simply enhancing her eyes to see in any darkness the light trick is completely worthless, “As it turns out, complex infiltrator abilities are even more difficult to figure out, and next to impossible without any expert around. Do you know how to control ponies with pheromones or voice or something else of that kind?”

Seven shakes his head, closing his book and levitating it onto the table.

“I’m afraid I don’t. There’s was next to no information about it in our hive mind, so I’ve always had to either bite dwarves or use magic. I know some hypnosis and suggestion spells, though. There’s a lot of books on the theory around. It’s kinda strange, really.”

“Hmmm?” Two looks up at him, “What is?”

“That a population reliant completely on technology would have a massive magic section in their library, and some of the more dangerous books contain what Eight warned me to avoid - tactical spells.”

“That doesn’t sound bad. What are those?”

“Supposedly, those are spells which require many unicorns to use, or alicorns themselves. They can level vast cities and ruin stretches of land, rendering them uninhabitable for centuries. I was curious so I read those, of course, but there’s no way I could use them so I’m trying to get better at complex spells that don’t require too much power instead. The ways of magic are indeed mysterious.”

“Well, I care more about the practical part of what I want to learn rather than theory and experimental potential,” Two pouts, “And as it turns out, nothing works. Magic? Poof! Mind control? Unless you’re a changeling or Topaz, I can yell at you all I want and nothing happens. Maybe Five was right, and I should only think ahead and try to predict bad stuff happening so that I can stop that beforehoof with a simple bite here and there?”

“Come on, Two,” Seven sits back down into his armchair, and pats lap. It takes Two a moment to understand, but she jump into it, and Seven wraps his forelegs around her, “If you don’t mind me saying, I think I know what your problem is.”

“That I was a useless egg that was left behind because my mother was right not to believe in me?” she grumbles.

“See? Sure, if you say it like that it sounds bad, but I was there when we moved directly into Brauheim, and it was nothing of that sort. Eight made a mistake. She panicked because she thought something happened to the boss.”

“Well, she could at least act like she regrets it.”

Seven shakes his head.

“Well, to be completely honest… she probably doesn’t. To her, we really were just tools to help her get to the boss.”

“How can you be so calm about that?!”

“I supposed that was just how things went, really,” Seven shrugs, “She made us, she was infinitely more powerful, so we did what she told us. It’s not as if she was sending us on suicide missions, and she gave us enough freedom to do what we wanted in our spare time. That’s how I ended up here.”

“I still don’t like her...”

“I doubt that she cares. On the other hole, boss seems to like you a lot.”

“Yeah, boss is awesome, but I’m worried that if he spends too much time with her, he’ll end up the same.”

She looks up at Seven’s chin when he chuckles and hugs her tighter.

“From what little I’ve spied through the hive links, it’s more the other way around. But you know, I think you’re too obsessed with her when you should be focusing on yourself. You’re trying to compare yourself to someone… someone really up there. That’s not going to work, and it’s obviously hurting you and only you. If it helps, Five felt the same way for the longest time.”

“Really? Flower Pot did?”

“Is that her official name now? Heh,” Seven scratches Two behind her ear, “Anyway, yes, she did. Unlike with me, Eight could train Five to use her skills properly, and shared knowledge with her. It didn’t go well, and Five came to the conclusion that since Eight was around, her only reason for existing was to to take a blow for one of us. I’ll tell you the same thing I told her - you should be comparing yourself only to yourself from yesterday, Two. If you made at least a tiny bit of progress, you’re a winner.”

The two sit in silence for some time, Seven rubbing Two’s belly while she cuddles against his own, until Two speaks up:

“Mind if I try something on you?”

“Nothing reckless, I hope.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Two closes her eyes, and in a moment Seven feels her mind inside his head.

He lets her gently touch his thoughts and memories, curious about what she’s doing. In comparison, as undisciplined as Two is, she could likely break through his mental defenses, so he’s only watching. As Two works through Seven’s memories, she leaves herself open as well, and Seven uses the opportunity and his limited skill to examine the surface of Two’s thoughts as well.

”Everyone, we’ve come to the conclusion that you should all join combat or physical training. Meet us at the castle gym. A dwarf mare called Battlecry will lead the session.”

The two changeling minds untangle, and Two perks up, rushing away between the shelves. Seven takes a deep breath, and mumbles:

“Outside… as myself… with a dwarf mare… oh boy...”

“Got it!” Two comes back trotting on three legs with a big book held in one foreleg.

“Hmm, got what?”

“I found out that you read a beginners book regarding hypnosis and mind control.”

“I know some spells for that. I can show you the practical side.”

“No no no no,” Two shakes her head vigorously as she opens the library door, “I wanted to know how and what those spells affect, and your memories of this book fit. I dunno, magic just doesn’t feel like the right thing to me, but if I know how things work, then I might figure out what I need to do with my body to control others.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Seven smiles, turning his head, “Wait! There! Who’s that?”

Two looks at the rather big backside now disappearing behind a distant corner.

“That wasn’t a dwarf!” she hisses, “Come on!”

The butt was at about head height for Eight, and grey with black stripes. Two is certain she’s never seen anything like that before. And no, it wasn’t any kind of armor, it was squishy. Another changeling?

”No, it wasn’t a changeling, or I can’t sense anyone around,” says Seven while quietly trotting ahead, ”I think I read about something similar. If it wasn’t paint, then it could have been a zebra!”

”What’s that?” asks Two, clearing the corner. The back half of a big, grey and black pony body disappears up a staircase.

”A kind of pony from deep south. They are grey with black stripes, and are the most similar to earthponies. What could one be doing here?”

Following the hoofsteps gets harder and harder, and eventually the two rushing changelings lose sight of… whatever… they were…

...what were they doing?

Two blinks, gasping for breath on the top floor of the castle. Seven, apparently in a worse physical condition, arrives shortly after.

“Umm, Seven… why are we here?” asks Two, looking into the empty and silent hallways, clearly puzzled.

The other infiltrator scratches his head.

“I’m… not sure. Must have had something to do with… with wanting to stretch our legs?”

“Hmmm,” Two furrows her brows, “Right, boss wanted us to do some physical exercise. I… I wanted to tell him about something… report to him that… that...”

Seven shakes his head. Did he fall asleep for a moment or something? All dizzy and everything. Probably lack of oxygen from all the galloping around.

“That we went for a run already, maybe? Sadly, I doubt that would save us from a training session.”

Two shrugs.

“I suppose so. Damn it, I finally found an interesting book and now I have to wait to read it because of orders.”

Seven laughs.

“HAH! Welcome to my world, Two.”

The two chuckle and head down, Seven explaining to Two how to levitate stuff properly so that she doesn’t have to limp on three legs.

22: The hunt never ends...

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It’s been three days since Eight’s showdown with Battlecry, and considering the dwarf trainer hasn’t disappeared into a cellar only to be found bloated with changeling eggs many days later, I strongly believe there are no hard feelings between those two. Five took to daily physical and weapon training with Battlecry in the same way she does everything - simply do her best and not be bothered by how things turn out in the end. Same thing can’t be said for the others, though.

I was surprised how difficult it was to persuade Three to at least do the physical exercise, because every time I mentioned weapons he gave me his unique pleading look meaning “I will do it if you order me, but I really don’t want to hurt anypony“. In the end, I gave up. However, I signed him up with Five and Six to join Hard Reset’s crash course in technology. As for the physical exercise, while he didn’t want to train to be able to outmuscle somepony in danger, when I told Three he’d be able to hug ponies tighter he agreed immediately. I was surprised when he called his trainer ‘auntie Battlecry’, but he considers everyone who’s nice to him part of our big family, changeling or not. When not doing his duties, Three’s moved away from mining, or at least he doesn’t do it too much anymore, and has been spending a lot of time in the hospital for some reason. Dwarves like him there, and he always has more love to share with us afterwards, so I don’t mind.

Two took a lesson from Five, and after some grumbling about it being pointless and robbing her of precious study time she simply shrugged and agreed. To be honest, she’s been doing pretty well actually, much to the surprise of everyone, and when she gets going in the heat of the fight, she can even make Five take her seriously. Not that she’s winning, no, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered by it anymore. I guess her mom’s genes are way too strong to be ignored. Otherwise, she’s been holed up in the castle library most of the time with Seven and Five. Recently, the two have also been the most successful in bringing in love. At least in quantity if not quality, that gold medal still belongs to Three.

Six has been failing the combat training hard, which is something I can’t fault him for. Drones simply aren’t built for crazy agility, constant awareness of all angles, and strength, but the one least bothered by it seemed to be Battlecry herself. Granted, it’s more than likely she understood that in comparison to all other rather monstrous changelings, not counting Three, Six was the closest one to a dwarf starting to learn everything from scratch. However, he’s the only one more comfortable with dwarven melee weapons than changeling skills. It makes sense in a way, because he simply isn’t and won’t be able to use the skills I, Eight, Five, or even Two can, but he could still shift his leg holes to his fetlocks into which he put the dwarven straps allowing them to use weapons with their forelegs instead of their mouths like ponies do most of the time. As for his private time, he asked Five for ‘remedial lessons’ so while I think Six is progressing the slowest, he’s gaining the most general experience in terms of threats he can face. On top of that, his love reserves have increased significantly as a result in comparison to others. It’s still ‘significantly for a drone’ but he’s not fragile by any means anymore.

Seven… Seven was a problem. Not that he resisted as such, but because whenever Battlecry talked to him, he started stuttering, dropped his weapon, or lost his concentration. An infiltrator who is bad at talking, geez… although it somewhat makes sense considering he came from Eight’s egg that his infiltration instincts won’t be the best. The thing is, he’s not terrible when he’s disguised, but when he’s as himself or with someone who knows who he really is, he just folds. And mares only triple the effect. Somepony like Battlecry makes him melt, and she damn well knows it. She quickly discovered, and I confirmed it, that infiltrators are baseline the physically weakest kind of changeling, rulers being a strange exception, and accepted that Seven’s combat style would revolve around magic rather than weapons… after some explanation about how magic works. HOWEVER she also as quickly discovered Seven’s weaknesses in concentration. All she had to do was simply brush her hips against his side while he was gathering power for a spell, purse her lips in the right way, breathe into his ear, or simply mention something untoward, anything to tease him. Seven was clearly used to do his magic in private or from the shadows, which also explained how it was possible that someone like Two won a direct fight against him. I made sure I sent him out alone in disguise in the evenings to gather love, and it was much better than when he tried as himself, although he’s still definitely on the bottom of the list.

As for me… I don’t know what to say, really. I’ve been training with Battlecry with utmost care due to my love weapons, sparring with Eight a little more, and generally adding more physical exercise with her later at night, although nothing as wild as before. As it turns out, now that Eight’s fear accumulated over the years is gone and lust for me is being quenched on regular basis, she’s more an oversized cuddlebug than anything.

Now, don’t forget - I’m not supposed to tell the last part to anyone.

In short, past three days have been full of activity but also peace. Brauheim is working well, dwarves are returning to their homes successfully, everything is mostly fixed, and we’re building a life. Even Scream has been gone most of the time, and when she appeared it was only to get a massage from Three. I haven’t breathed this freely since… ever, really.

One thing doesn’t seem to change, though, and that is my required presence on the late morning council meetings despite me being there mostly to give the council more gravitas. I don’t usually veto or propose new changes myself anymore unless the guys are talking about something that feels impossibly silly to me.

As usual, since it’s after my practice with Battlecry, I’m drifting off a little, and leaning against Eight in the same comfy chair pushed right next to mine. Thankfully, she’s completely awake, and if the dwarves raise any important point, she’ll mentally poke me.

What wakes me up, however, is a completely different species, as Steelback enters the council room with a large backpack on his back. Come to think of it, I’ve barely seen him since the “end” of the “civil war”.

“Steelback!” standing up, I shake the minotaur’s hoof- hand, “Where have you been?”

“You know, king. I took a year away from my life and work, so it takes time to get back into those old boots. I’ll be away more often than not now aside from my ambassador duties. Speaking of which,” he pulls a huge binder filled with documents out of his backpack and puts it on the main table for all council members to see, “I’ve got a new set of proposals for trade contracts. While the ones from before my disappearance were still better than nothing, our situation has changed drastically, and there’s a world of difference between what we needed than and what we need now.”

“I motion that you examine those instead of… what are you even talking about right now?” I raise an eyebrow.

“The annual Beerfest is coming, and we’re pondering which attractions or activities are a little too much. I’m rather curious about the new drag race, actually,” explains Iron Rose.

“What’s that?”

“One of the dumbest and most pointless ideas I’ve ever heard...” grumbles Granite. Hard Hat shows his agreement by a vigorous nod.

“Stallions dress up as mares, and then race each other at who can drag a quarter ton boulder around a city block faster,” Iron Rose shoots them both a dirty glance.

I’m bored just listening to her explain it.

“Permission granted,” I roll my eyes, “They can hook the weights by their balls if they want. Now go get to studying Steelback’s trade proposals.”

The minotaur leans to my ear, and whispers:

“Some of the business deals are a little on the minotaur side, so if I can cash in a favor for helping you get this far, it’s now. Wink wink.”

“I don’t know much about trade, but I hope all of you take Steelback’s role in the events leading to the reunification of Brauheim to mind while discussing the offered deal, hmm?” I give each member a meaningful look. Of course it’s Hard Hat for the miners to try to win a staring contest with me, but I’ve got a natural advantage over him - changelings don’t need to blink. Eventually, when his eyes start watering, even he nods.

With the council busy, I take Steelback to a corner table of the large room, and offer him a drink. Eight remains sitting by the big table with the council to present to the two newsponies from “Council - SPecial ANnouncements” always in the other corners the proper image of their ruling class.

“What’s up, king?” Steelback relaxes and takes a sip from his mug, “Ahhh, I must admit, dwarves know how to make moonshine. Apples?”

“Apples, moss, and flame spider venom,” I nod, “I can’t drink that specific one. I did try two days ago, but when I spat out the enhanced goo, it melted through the floor into the maintenance tunnels. Hard Reset’s engineers had to use some special equipment from the deep core mines to scoop it up and throw it into lava. Made for quite pretty fireworks, I must admit. Anyway, I’ve got a question - are you a good fighter?”

Steelback raises an eyebrow.

“Quite so, despite my chosen profession. We minotaurs tend to be as a rule, although if you want a true expert, I’m sure I can find someone better. Why do you ask? Trouble?”

I shake my head.

“No, for once no. I’ve signed my guys up for physical and combat training just in case, and I’m looking for some variety to add to the sessions. Our dwarf trainer is great, but her style is a bit too… reserved and defensive.”

“So you want someone who can bash stuff really hard and isn’t afraid to get rough,” Steelback grins, “Well, I could certainly use the exercise, but it’ll have to wait. As I said, I’m very busy back in Rift, and it’ll take some time to fix everything. As it turns out, warlord Darkhorn has been a little overwhelmed for the past few months by relations with Equestria.”

“Any trouble?” the first thing that comes to my mind is Scream saying that she’s trying to prevent the end of the world. Come to think of it, dark priests have a strange end of dwarf race prophecy, an irritating alicorn is around, talking about her own role at stopping the end of everything… I’m starting to think there might be something to it. What could it have to do with dwarf morals and clothes, though?

To my minor relief, Steelback just waves his hand dismissively.

“The founding of Rift under Dark Prophet’s protection hasn’t been without hiccups, and we played a role in certain related events which not everyone remembers fondly, especially the crystal ponies. But don’t worry, king, this is strictly Rift business, and I’m helping wherever I can while trying to reconnect to my old friends.”

Thank the great hole in the ground and the sky it’s nothing serious!

“Oh, one thing, though!” Steelback snaps his fingers.

Shit… I spoke too soon, didn’t I?

“Yeeeees?” I brace for whatever he’s about to bring up.

“I recall you talking about Equestrian paladins-”

I freeze.

“-Two of them arrived in Rift three days ago, accompanied by a zebra.”

When did I stand up?

“That bad, huh?” Steelback nods to my forelegs on the table which is beginning to smolder under my hooves.

“...if the murdering sunfucks found us again...” I let out a growl which surprises even me with how quiet and reserved it is.

”Everyone, focus on gathering love immediately. I don’t care if you need to poison and fuck half of the city, I want ALL OF US so full of love and lust that we’re sloshing when we walk!” I order. There must be something in my mental voice, because no one says anything, and I feel only everyone obeying orders.

Eight glances my way, but knows to not leave the council table. What information we let out to the dwarves is still under consideration.

One dwarf, however, leaves the heated debate, and walks over to Steelback and me. Of course it’s Granite. Being a loremaster AND a soldier, it’s in his nature to be perceptive.

“I’m more interested in security than trade, so as long as the proposals don’t endanger us in the long term, I’m more of a veto dwarf. Current table discussion is more Hard Hat’s job,” he starts, “What’s happening here, though, seems way more like my territory.”

“Why do you think so?” I ask.

He looks down.

“You’re burning green holes into the carpet and the table.”

I sit down and cross my forelegs on my chest. Four hoof marks still softly burning with green fire remain where my legs were.

“Paladins in Rift...” I scowl.

“Should I increase security?” asks Granite, “I can explain it to everyone by using Beerfest and possible dark priest sabotage of such event as an excuse.”

“It’s still a very real possibility that the paladins are just emissaries to Rift, king,” says Steelback, “As I said, we’re not on the best terms with Equestria yet.”

“Do you know anything else, Steelback? Names, how they looked, anything?” I press the minotaur.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” he shakes his head, “I haven’t met any of them, and they had dealings only with the warlord himself.”

“Grrrrhghh...” my eye twitches. I can’t even form a coherent order. My growl is just frustration, hate, rage, and fear balled into one low noise.

“I will double the patrols and set new routes as well as reporting rules,” Granite, thankfully, is the calm one.

“Thanks,” I breathe out, “No, Steelback, I don’t believe it’s a coincidence. I can’t afford to believe it. Last time I thought we were safe, we all nearly died,” I sigh and hang my head, “Damn it, damn it, damn it...”

Without another word, I simply turn away and return to the council table where I sit down next to Eight. A moment later, Geode approaches me while the others are still arguing about trade, and by the looks of it will go on for hours, and clears her throat. I’m not in the mood for any dwarven nonsense at this point, but I grit my teeth and grant her an audience.

“Yes?”

“King, there’s a… problem I’d like to raise with you. None of us know how to solve it, because we haven’t been in an even remotely similar situation before.”

“Yes?”

“We… well, there aren’t any dark priests around.”

“And that’s a problem because...?”

“Marriages aren’t official unless the ceremonies are conducted by dark priests. Plus, everypony is setting up shops and activities all around the city for Beerfest, and the celebration can’t kick off without a dark priest’s official blessing. Your and queen’s aggressive sentiment towards them seems to have made them all return back to their enclave and, well, this was about to happen sooner or later...”

Paladins are on our backs again, and I have to deal with THIS SHIT?!

“You might have missed,” I hiss at Geode who backs off, eyes wide, “that those dildo heads with beards tried to cause a civil war or that they took water and heat away from you and watched you freeze. If you dwarves want to go back to how things were under dark priests’ solid control so much, then you can have that! You’ve been playing things safe on both sides all this time, and I don’t have a reason to fight for you anymore. You limited royal power so that you could have control over your city, then take the responsibility as well. To me it just looks like you want more civil freedoms while keeping what those that want to take them away offer you. You can’t have everything! You can’t just sit quietly while hoping and praying someone else will solve all your problems for you. We have our OWN problems AND THOSE ACTUALLY THREATEN OUR LIVES!” I slam my hooves against the table, “If your love or enjoyment needs some bullshit paper and few murmured words by some ancient dwarf with stick so far up his ass that you might mistake him for a unicorn, then you can fuck right off!”

Everyone is now staring at me, shocked. I’ve made tomorrow’s news, that’s for sure. Maybe even today’s, really.

Gritting my teeth, I force my anger under control, and let out a long breath.

“Alright, alright. Do you know any dark priest who isn’t a total asscunt, or is that a prerequisite for the job?”

“Well, I do,” Black Soil gives me a bashful look, then nods towards Granite, “Granite here. As loremaster, he knows a lot more than other dwarves, and has access to knowledge none of us do. He’s a step under dark priests, am I saying it right?”

Everyone looks at Granite who shifts uncomfortably.

“It’s true that I tried to become a dark priest a long time ago. My curiosity about our lost past led me to it, but I failed.”

“Did they want you to sacrifice a foal to the darkness or something?” I joke to ease the tension and fail miserably, because Granite lowers his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind. Let’s just say that their doctrine is that to become a true dwarf, you need to throw away everything that makes you a lesser one. I couldn’t do that,” he shakes his head.

“Do you know how to bless this… Beerfest or whatsitsname?”

“I know the basic rites, yes, but it won’t be enough-”

I raise my voice.

“Granite will bless Beerfest. If anyone complains, kick them in the nuts- no, tell them to go complain to Eight personally. My point stands - if you’re so insane that you need those religious fanatics to have fun which is this whole thing supposed to be, or to love each other, then… I think I already screamed my opinion on that subject in your face enough,” I lower my forelegs from the table, and turn to Eight, “I’m going for a walk, Eight, because I doubt anything I could say right now would do us much good. Stay here so that we don’t miss anything.”

She nods, and I leave the council room, randomly walking throughout the castle while my angry mumbling occasionally surprises the posted guards.

“...how DARE they…?”
“...paladins are here again, and these… these… these earthponies who got stepped on by an elephant don’t bother even trying to stand up for themselves...”
“...should freaking cocoon all their priests and we’d see what those idiots would do then...”
“...Star Trail...”
“...if Eight or Chrysalis were in charge, they wouldn’t tolerate this nonsense for a second...”
“...should punt the next dwarf who says something even remotely dumb right in the balls so hard we’d purge their gene pool from this religious idiocy...”

I stop when I notice a dwarf standing in front of me, not to the side like sentries usually do. I immediately bare my fangs when I take in the fact that his head is completely bald, and he’s wearing a black robe with faint golden sigils sewn on it.

“What do you want?” I do my best to remain civil when faced with a dark priest, but in my current mood it’s certainly taxing. The only reason I’m not putting my practice with Battlecry to good use is because he’s not moving, only staring at me.

“I come here with a deal… king,” he glares at me when he says the title, “You can’t rule Brauheim without us. Tradition won’t allow it. For you, it is unrest waiting to happen. For us, it is… a minor although possibly long-term inconvenience.”

They must have known this would happen eventually with my and Eight’s position regarding them. I bet they helped it too. I bet they messed with dwarves’ heads for so long that the idiots can’t even imagine life without stupid rituals masquerading to be the blessing of whatever they pray to.

“Dwarves were doing fine during the year of Eight’s rule,” I object, still waiting for the dwarf to try something. He might think I believe he’s here just to talk, but changelings have naturally good memory and awareness of surrounding area, and I KNOW all the guards have left this floor of the castle.

“The… queen,” in a way, it’s fun to watch him force himself to call us rulers, “did indeed close some doors to us, but she never made us public enemy like you did.”

“You threatened lives of almost everyone by calling for open war!”

“For the greater good,” he says immediately and with fanatical certainty, “We survived an apocalypse our ancestors contained at the cost of their lives, and we will survive you, changeling, even though the city dwarves here might not. Of course, we prefer things to be more peaceful and stable. So, our offer is simple - you will allow our free movement inside Brauheim, and you will abide by our traditions. Our representative will have a place and veto power on your ‘council’. In return, we will fulfill our duties, and you will be free to feed and multiply within reasonable boundaries. No unrest, no needless conflict.”

I probably should think about it, but I’m really mad right now, and I don’t believe that talking door knob as far as Eight could throw him. Huh, bad analogy.

“No,” I say firmly and take a step towards him, “I’m absolutely sure that the moment I let you cockroaches back, you will start working on getting rid of every single changeling in the city as well as all freedom and social progress the ‘lesser dwarves’ gained under me or Eight. You will all get out and won’t enter city limits unless it’s with a written and signed proclamation that you won’t pressure anyone on how to live their lives anymore. Sense will prevail over tradition, even though it might take a generation or two. I won’t sell out the city dwarves to you for a fake promise of slightly easier times for MY kind.”

The dark priest sighs.

“And here I was trying to be reasonable,” he points his hoof at me, “but I guess it’s pointless to negotiate with insects.”

With several blasts, projectiles from the dark priest hoof gun harmlessly clink away from my chitin as I close the distance. Before the last shot, he aims his hoof directly at my head point blank. My neck twitches a little with the boom, which is the only reaction he gets before he turns around to flee. In response, my love blade slashes his hind leg open up to his upper thigh, and he falls, immediately rolling on his back.

Towering over him, I put my foreleg on his chest, lean down, and growl:

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. City!”

The dark priest grins.

“My words… exactly!” he thrusts his foreleg upwards…

...and I lose control over my body almost instantly from sudden burst of biting agony, collapsing to the side as he kicks me away while all I can do is stare at a shard of metal that pierced my bulletproof chitin.

As if fire and acid spread from the wound, it gnaws at my insides. Tiny worms must be ripping my flesh under my chitin from that single stab. I can’t focus, it hurts so much. I can’t heal. Nothing I’ve ever felt before even remotely compares to this excruciating pain.

I don’t see anything, I can’t think, I can’t do anything. There’s only infinite pain.

The dark priest starts limping away as fast as he can.

“One bug down,” he chuckles.

***

In the council room, sudden explosion of noise announces Eight’s instant departure from the chair which flies off. Only Steelback and Granite are in the loop enough to understand something is completely wrong while the others only look at new Eight-sized hole in the heavy door leading out.

The loremaster and the minotaur can’t follow Eight’s speed, but they can easily track her by the shredded hallway carpets from the heavy stomps of her hooves and claws, as well as deep scratches in the corner masonry whenever she tried to go around without slowing down, and simply stabbed her claws into the stones.

When they find her, however, the feral beast has given way to a huge, trembling changeling, cradling quiet but occasionally shaking boss.

“Wh-what? What happened?” Granite approaches Eight carefully, slowing down when she snarls at him. She realizes what she did a second later.

“I… I don’t know. He’s in so much pain even I can’t get inside his head. He’s barely breathing. He doesn’t react to anything,” she looks at Granite with pleading eyes, “You’re the smart one here. Do something!”

The loremaster leans down to the king’s body, and with Eight’s help he manages to uncross king’s forelegs spastically clamped to his chest.

“Oh by Muradin’s life cut short...” he breathes out, “No...”

Surprised by the shock and helplessness in Granite’s voice, Eight’s breathing grows heavier.

“What? WHAT?!”

Granite points at the strange metal shard embedded in king’s chest.

“This is a molecular blade- DON’T TOUCH IT!” he yells when Eight moves her claws to pull it out, “Those can supposedly pierce any material, but are notoriously easy to break by side pressure.”

“A cut wouldn’t make him like this, even if it went through the heart!”

“No… it’s not that,” Granite sighs, “See the brown mark around the wound? It’s easier to see than it would be on a dwarf due to the green blood. That’s Brass Spike poison residue, the deadliest substance in the face of Equus. Only dark priests know how to make it, and by definition, there is no antidote. The ancestors used it to protect our lands from dragons and threats from the depths, ancient alicorn experiments and even evil alicorns themselves. The poison adapts itself to the target’s biology, and even the most powerful dragons die within hours. The only problem against heavily armored targets was always how to get it into their bloodstream, which...” he points to the molecular blade, “is what this thing is for. There’s nothing anypony can do. The king... is going to die, and soon.”

Eight screeches so loud the lamps all over the hallway shatter, plunging it into darkness like her own soul. Granite and Steelback stumble before covering their ears to very little avail.

She sniffs the air, and it looks as if she just now noticed the trail of blood leading away from boss’ body. She sniffs the air again - dwarven blood.

“Granite,” she hisses, ice crystals now appearing on her breath, “Every dark priest is to be killed on sight. Everyone refusing to do so will be taken away by my changelings and used as food or a breeder, and so will everyone helping dark priests in any capacity. I will find the dwarf responsible for this.”

Never before has the word find had such a final and brutal meaning.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Eight starts walking away, following the splatters of blood, “If anything even remotely similar happens to any other of my changelings, I will breed and then kill all of you. Every last dwarf stallion, mare, and foal will be a resource to fuel my army with which I will purge this underground of all life, and no bald fanatics will hide from me within their fortress.”

“Queen, we don’t-”

“I am not the boss, dwarf. I have no qualms with becoming the fangs of genocide.”

When Granite and Steelback blink, she’s gone.

Scream watches as the minotaur takes king’s body into his arms with as much care as possible, and clicks her teeth.

”A massacre like this would bring sooo many powerful souls into Void’s domain, but judging from what he’s doing, he knows it wouldn’t be enough to win. No, as much fun as it would be to watch dwarves realize that punch bug would be far more dangerous enemy than Cryo ever was… I doubt this is the way for things to happen if I want them to end as they should,” floating around Steelback, she looks at boss and sighs, “It looks like there’s more of us who won’t see the end of this war, all we can do is sow seeds and hope they grow in time. What war, I hear you ask, boss bug? Not with these armored fleshlights, no. Something way beyond your understanding, beyond ponies or changelings, and beyond time,” Scream chuckles, ”Punch bug wants to murder few religious fanatics. I, dear boss bug, am about to orchestrate the death of a god. Somehow.”

23: Leaderless

View Online

Scream follows Eight’s mad dash as the carpet under the warrior’s hooves gets torn into shreds which then explode into ash behind her. While such physical manifestation of rage is enough to make the alicorn raise an impressed eyebrow, Scream is busy plotting her next step.

Room? Its door shatters as Eight simply rams into it, following the scent of blood more than splatters anymore. The dark priest must have treated his wound in some way. There’s a stone wall between her and the scent now-

Not anymore. Perfectly hewn stones scatter everywhere in an explosion of rocks, mortar, dust, and metal. As it turns out, there indeed was a secret door on hidden hinges made to open in some intricate way, or when hit with enough force to shatter two hooves thick masonry.

The hole leads into a well-maintained and lit tunnel with barely an specks of dust, although with the occasional drop of blood on the floor.

”Remind me to never use you for a sneaking mission...” Scream rolls her eyes as Eight thunders down the sloping tunnel, leaving hoof marks burned into the stones, ”You know, it would be a smart idea to slow down a bit in case you run into a minefield or something,” Scream raises her voice.

The alicorn has no clue whether Eight is simply ignoring her or hasn’t heard her, but her pace doesn’t change whatsoever. The neat tunnel gives way to round, uneven mine shaft which eventually opens into a massive crevasse. Eight is lost for a moment before she notices a long staircase carved into the side of the hole, and deep down in the darkness…

...is a tiny, flickering speck of light.

Eight looks at the staircase, then at the bottomless drop, and then jumps without even spreading her wings.

”Alright, this needs someone less berserk-y,” Scream connects to Two, ”Hey, smart bug, have you heard the news?”

”W-What’s going on, Scream?!” answers Two immediately, ”I can’t sense the boss, and no one else knows anything!”

”Boss bug is dying in the castle, poisoned by some concoction that supposedly kills even alicorns, and punch bug is chasing the assassin.”

”WHAAAAAAAAAT?!”

”Shocked screaming later, now I need you to get over here as fast as you can in case punch bug meets a cannon she can’t tank. These dark priests have technology I haven’t seen since the disappearance of the Silversmiths.”

”Okay,” Two forces herself to simply listen. Five was right in a way. There are times when being just tools working for the good of the hive and nothing more is crucial, ”Where do you need me?”

”Do you know where punch bug is?”

”I’m not sure...” Two focuses, trying to break into Eight’s one-track mind, ”She’s not mapping. I… I… I think I can find her!” she clutches her head. Eight is moving too fast with only her warrior instincts tracking her surroundings. It’s clearly enough for her, but Two’s infiltrator mind isn’t made to process that kind of fragmented and snap information.

”The haul ass, smart bug. Demigod out,” Scream breaks her link to Two, now following Eight’s dive into the depths of the ruptured earth.

Eight’s wings burn green as she shifts them to withstand the acceleration caused by her drop and stop her fall without them tearing off. The scent of blood is strong here, mixed with overpowering smell of sweat. Growling, Eight lands on an outcropping made of metal at the bottom of the stairs as well as the ravine right above flowing river of magma. The stone walls here have the familiar dark purple-black hue of bedrock, and there’s a shiny, hexagonal metal door through which the assassin clearly disappeared.

Eight punches the door which doesn’t give an inch.

She bites her hoof so hard blood starts pouring from her frog, and then she presses it against the door. With eyes closed, she digs inside herself for fragments of knowledge she hasn’t needed to use in a very long time - One’s.

Gradually, the metal begins corroding under the effect of her transformed blood, and not much time later, Eight simply pushes a blackened sheet of steel forward, and then her whole hoof through the door as thick as her thigh. A pony would need to make a bigger hole before they got through, thus giving the assassin time to escape. A changeling, though, has a natural advantage in that respect.

A hoof-sized Eight buzzes through the smoldering hole as her blood keeps corroding bigger and bigger part of the door before transforming back into her full size on the other side. The walls are made of smooth bedrock here covered in carvings, and seem to emit gentle light on their own. Eight, however, is interested in only one thing - the occasional speck of blood here and there.

Scream stops for a moment to look at the walls, and tilts her head.

”These things… aren’t decorations,” she furrows her brows, ”This is… a guide to build a coffee maker?” she trots off a short distance away, ”Physics! Physics equations right next to it! Thaumic physics too,” her jaw drops, ”Every tunnel, every wall… they had underground bases all over the world. Technology breaks, paper rots, bedrock stays. It doesn’t rain underground, bedrock doesn’t deteriorate, knowledge stays almost forever. Their cities were encyclopedias-” Scream’s look of complete wonder disappears when she realizes Eight is long gone, ”Ah crap!”

The alicorn reappears at a crossroad near Eight just as she pounces at a fleeing dwarf who must be the assassin. She grabs him by his forelegs when he aims his hoof at her, then backflips on her hind legs while kicking against the dwarf’s barrel.

”Oh… holes...” Two, connected to Eight, fights off a bout of nausea.

”What, never seen somepony’s ribcage being kicked out of their body before?” Scream chuckles, ”Well, this is how your mom does diplomacy.”

”Am I… supposed to learn that?”

”No, that’s how you DON’T do it. Most of the time at least.”

The mangled corpse of the dwarf lands on the floor, and Eight tosses away both of the dwarf’s fetlocks still held in her claws. The dwarf looks like a bow now, only the string is the flesh of the body and some broken bones while the bendy bit is… his pelvis, spine, and the ribcage.

“One kick. She did this with one kick,” Two breathes out, now finally galloping down the castle secret tunnel.

“FUCKING RISE UP SO THAT I CAN KILL YOU AGAAAAAAAAAAAIN!” Eight roars, stomping the body into bloody paste.

A slow clip clop of hooves approaching from the left tunnel makes Eight’s head snap towards the source of noise. A bone-chilling shiver runs down Scream’s spine.

”No...” the alicorn gasps, ”What is one of them doing here…? Punch bug, get out!”

Eight stomps off towards the approaching… pony. Not a dwarf, but a pony wearing a grey robe with a hood.

”Punch bug, you know I mess around a lot, but this time when I’m telling you to go the other way and as fast as you can, YOU GO!”

“ARE YOU THIS KETCHUP’S CONTACT?!” Eight screams at the slowly walking pony.

The hood turns towards her for a second, then the rather big pony passes her without a word.

Eight screams, and grabs the passive pony by his shoulders.

“Ooof!” the world around her blurs as she flies away after a punch that leaves an indentation in her chest chitin.

”Punch buuuuuug...” Scream facehoofs, ”I know you’re seeing red right now, but if you keep this up, there won’t be a head to see anything soon.”

Then Eight darts forward at speed barely noticeable by naked eye, and punches the pony. The first thing that would stop a smart observer or a not-raging changeling, would be that the pony reacted quickly enough to block the punch with his crossed hooves. The second thing was that even if someone blocked such a blow, the force would send them flying over the horizon, which didn’t happen. What DID happen was that previously unstoppable force met an immovable object, and the force very much stopped. The pony simply stood up on his hind legs, his prehensile, reptilian tail previously hidden by the robe forming the tripod keeping him steady.

Eight finally realizes something might be wrong. A little too late, unfortunately.

Razor sharp claws on the pony’s foreleg sever Eight’s attacking leg while he grabs her by the neck with his other one, and squeezes. At the same time his tail wraps around her hind leg. Eight’s chitin reinforced to maximum resists for a whole second before her neck and spine snap, and her held hind leg gets torn off as well. The pony lets Eight drop on the floor, then meticulously stomps off her remaining hind leg and foreleg, leaving only Eight’s mangled barrel. In the end, his foreleg transforms into a tentacle which spears Eight’s chest, and tears her heart out.

Afterwards, as if nothing happened, the pony’s foreleg turns into a normal one, and he walks off.

Scream facehoofs, and sighs.

”Smart bug… I don’t know how to say it...”

Without a sound, Two arrives a short moment later, and her eyes go wide when she sees the pool of blood and complete mess that is, or more likely used to be, Eight.

Time stops as Two redirects the conversation entirely into the hive mind.

”What… what happened, Scream?”

”Punch bug met an elder Vigil, probably one who fled before we nuked their last base. I shudder to think that he survived it, because if he did then we’re all screwed. He’s still around, and I’m not sure even you as a changeling can be quiet enough to avoid him, or quick enough to flee at this point.”

”W-W-What? But Eight… she’s unstoppable...”

”Got stopped pretty finally, I’d say. Anyway, I gotta discuss this with the right ponies. See ya, and if you meet somepony weird around here, just run and hope it’s enough.”

”Ok-Okay...” Two replies to no one, feeling suddenly weak, as if her love was being drained for no reason.

She looks at Eight’s remains, and her jaw drops.

“H-how? Still breathing…?” she doesn’t dare touch Eight, and it’s still Eight, not a corpse, “Snapped neck, heartless- heh, heheheh!” Two starts laughing, then takes Eight’s mane into her mouth, and pulls while mumbling and giggling, “Tables have turned, haven’t they?”

She has no idea whether Eight’s state is just her body giving out too slowly, or whether there’s some hope of healing in this obliterated shape, but she keeps dragging Eight’s torso by her mane.

“The stairs are gonna be fun for you, heh. And don’t take this the wrong way, I’m only doing this because boss would be sad if you died for some reason. I can’t say I share his sentiment,” she lowers her head for a moment, the gravity of what Scream said about the assassination finally hitting her. Then she grits her teeth, and looks at Eight’s limbs strewn around, “I might send someone to grab those later… maybe.”

Should Eight get what she deserves? Two grins, or bares her teeth at least.

“Or maybe not,” her barking laugh echoes through the hopefully empty hallways, “Maybe I’ll give you to dwarves as some amputee fucknugget. You’re a trash mother, so you might give being a good cock sock a shot.”

She lets go of Eight’s mane, and the warrior’s already unnaturally twisted head hits the floor.

“Or maybe I should just really leave you here,” Two snarls at the unresponsive body, “so that you could rot here alone like you left me. Boss might be already dead, so there’s no one who would miss you. You might still be breathing due to how much of a monster you are, well, still wheezing I mean, but if I leave you here, no one will find you in time.”

Two scowls at the body, coming to a decision.

“Rest in pieces, you worthless cu-”

“T-Two?” a new, completely desperate voice from behind her makes Two turn around. It’s Three, his eyes wide and mouth open, “Miss Eight...?”

“She left me and Crumble to die just because she didn’t need us anymore. From what boss said about what happened before, this isn’t the first time she left everyone to die. She deserves this!” Two blocks Three from rushing to Eight.

“B-But boss will cry-” Three gives Two a pleading look when she shoves him back so hard he plops on his butt.

“Boss is dying or already dead! An assassin got to him. He’s not some unnatural, indestructible half-changeling half-construct like you! He’s just a changeling! Dwarves know about changelings, and even Scream said the poison kills EVERYTHING!”

“Let’s take her home anyway-” Three jumps back on all fours.

“And what if I don’t let you?” Two’s stomach turns when she says that, but the boiling anger and disgust from everything is stronger than any fragile morality inspired by the boss.

“Then… then I won’t hug you anymore, EVER!” Three pulls out the big guns.

“Maybe I’m fine with that as long as that monster gets what she deserves!” Two’s voice wavers a little.

Three scrunches his nose, and tries to walk past Two repeatedly, each time being blocked or shoved away. He doesn’t say anything, he always just gets up and gives it another attempt.

-GO HOME AND LET HER ROT!-

Three stops, his legs twitching. He turns halfway around, but then he faces Two again.

“N-No!” his voice is high-pitched and strained, “Miss Eight is still there, I know it. Something like getting killed won’t stop her. Boss is still there too! He’s a drone, and we’re tough. And you… you, Two… you’re just not yourself. I know you want to help me, but you’ve got your problems to deal with. You’re an amazing changeling-”

“SHUT UP!”

“I won’t, Two. I believe in you, I believe in boss, and I believe in miss Eight! Even if you go away and not help, you’ll still be better than most changelings in the old hive who would just eat miss Eight to gain what little love she still has. THAT’S WHY YOU’RE AWESOME TOO, EVEN WHEN YOU’RE BEING NASTY NOW!”

Trembling, Two takes a step towards Three, fangs bared and her eyes burning with hate. The drone grits his teeth, not moving.

She walks past him.

“Do what you want with that bitch, I don’t care. I’m going to visit my real mom who cares about me.”

Three rushes to Eight, nudges her few times, and realizes she’s way bigger even without limbs.

“Umm, Two? Miss Eight is too big and I can’t-”

-STOP CALLING HER MISS EIGHT, SHE’S A HEARTLESS COCKROACH AND DESERVES TO BE ONLY CALLED THAT!-

This time the mental command doesn’t even faze Three.

“N-No! It’s miss Eight. She saved all of us too many times to count. Without her, boss or I wouldn’t be here. Even Five, Six, or Seven wouldn’t. Can you please at least grab the legs, Two? I can’t levitate stuff like Seven or boss.”

“Then you’d better come back for those before something eats them, and grab a bag,” Two hisses, and trots off the way both she and Three came.

Three sighs, and notices green drool on Eight’s mane where Two previously dragged her. Nibbling on the hair, he gives it few experimental pulls.

“Sorry, miss Eight, you’ll wake up with a bit of a headache. Two isn’t a bad changeling, I swear. She’s just...”

Even Three can’t find the right words anymore.

”Miss Scream?” he speaks up.

”Yeah?” the alicorn’s voice answers quietly, but the demigoddess herself is nowhere to be found.

”Thank you for calling me here and telling me what was going on.”

”Pfff. I’m in it just for the inevitable fireworks when punch bug finds out what smart bug did. Without boss bug to keep her happy, punch bug’s gonna dish out some serious parental guidance, and I’ll be there with the popcorn. If the dead horse dragging… or being dragged… no, that sounds dumb… if she lives to see another minute, of course.”

”Of course, miss Scream, of course,” Three conjures a weak smile despite the situation, gives one final look to Eight’s ripped off limbs and heart, and with patience that would make Maud Pie jealous, he resumes pulling Eight’s torso, hoping against all reality that Eight is still somehow alive.

***

Two wanders the streets of Brauheim on her way to the hospital. Vendors and attractions are lined up next to each other. Axe throwing, contests of strength, various seasonal food, opportunities to taste some super rare liquor, and many many more ways for dwarves to occupy themselves, not all of which Two understands. Of course, it’s still early for the celebration to be in full swing, so it’s about fifty-fifty in regard of the public stands being open for business, but there are crowds of dwarves already trying everything this year’s Beerfest has to offer anyway.

Two stops at a small forge with door wide open and iron ingots stacked on a rack outside the door. Now this is something she understands well.

“For everything you do every day,” she reads an inscription on one of the ingots, “I heart you,” she turns another one in her hooves, “A cave-in couldn’t keep me away from you. True friendship is stronger than bedrock,” her eyes light up when she spots one that’s suitable and very simple, “For the best mom underground ever,” she smiles, “I could either give this to Crumble, or beat Eight to death with it. Dwarf gifts are so universal,” she chuckles, but can’t completely ignore the creeping guilt when she remembers that Three must still be dragging Eight from the strange, deep tunnels.

As she picks the ingot up, she realizes she doesn’t have any money. Her infiltration trips always revolved around seduction in bars or taverns and making her targets pay for her, because it usually turned out that drinks were customary.

She could always… steal it.

No! Two shakes her head. If anyone saw a changeling doing this, it wouldn’t help the situation, especially now that boss is…

Two realizes that she, in her rage, completely forgot about boss’ reported situation and was focusing only on Eight. The problem is that because she can’t connect to boss, she doesn’t know where he is, and as a quick scan of everyone’s heads shows that, other than Two and Three, no one knows that everything has gone horribly wrong. Better not to call attention to it yet, before Two knows everything.

After taking a deep breath, Two grabs the desired ingot, and walks inside the forge.

“Umm, can I have this one?” she asks the dwarf mare currently smithing something in the corner, “I don’t have any money, but I can do something for you, or you can go to the castle and ask for them to repay this… or I can do that later.”

The forgemare looks around, and tilts her head before smiling.

“Oh, you’re one of the new changers, right?”

“Changelings, yes, miss. We don’t use money, so I don’t have any on me, and my… mom is in the hospital, so I wanted to get her something, but when I came here I realized that I forgot the most important part.”

“Hmmm,” the mare scratches her head, before smiling, “I’ve got an idea! I’ll give you the ingot for free if you help me out a little.”

“Umm, sure?”

“Perfect!” the dwarf trots off and returns with a hoof-held, boxy device which she points at Two, “Say cheese!”

“Cheese?” a sudden flash blinds Two. When she blinks away the sudden blast of light, the dwarf is already holding a picture of confused Two and showing it to the even more frazzled real one, “Now, can you sign the picture?”

“Sign?”

“Something like - My name is Two, and this is my favorite shop in Brauheim,” the mare presents a thin, black tube to Two. A… pen? A pen, right.

“I...” Two realizes she can’t write. She knows the language and can read, she just has never written anything before. Experimentally, she grows claws on her foreleg, grabs the pen, and scribbles on the picture before examining the sentence of uneven letters scattered around, “I, umm, I can give it another shot.”

“Nonononono!” the dwarf mare shakes her head with a wide grin, “This is gold. Gives it the right kind of strange creature authenticity,” she pats Two’s head, “Alright, thank you very much, and the ingot is yours, of course. If you decide you want more, I’m sure we’ll work something out.”

“Thank you very much,” Two leaves, still unsure what has just happened, and only gives the mare now nailing a frame with Two’s picture to the door of the forge one last look before heading off to the hospital.

It doesn’t take too long for her to bring her cargo through the recovery ward of the hospital, and knock on the door of Crumble’s room before entering without waiting for an answer. Crumble sits up on the bed, the clutches her chest and curses.

“Does it still hurt?” Two rushes over, dropping the ingot on the bedside table. Crumble smiles, and waves her hoof dismissively.

“Nothing that would even slow me down,” she looks at Two’s gift, and her smile grows only wider, “Awwww, how traditional. I guess not everything old is so bad, heheh.”

“Are you SURE you’re okay?” Two pouts, jumping on the bed and poking Crumble.

“I’m getting better by the day. The doctors said that the bullet I got shot with was something weird, I didn’t really understand the explanation, so it caused more damage than a normal shot would, but it’s healing well at this point. Plus, being without electricity and proper surgery for so long didn’t help either. I’ll be mining again in a week or two, though.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Two hugs Crumble with utmost care.

“What brings you here anyway? Just the get well ingot?” Crumble pats Two’s head, “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but last thing I heard was that you buggies were really busy sorting things out after the war.”

Two doesn’t let go of Crumble despite her quiet sigh.

“It’s still hectic, but I just wanted to see how you were and to tell you that you were my real mom, not that bi- queen… Eight.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet of you. I just wish I could show you around Brauheim on Beerfest, especially since I missed the last one due to the schism and the whole being an egg basket, but I can’t say I didn’t get something out of it,” she winks at Two, “It’s a completely different city, and I know all the hidden little shops that sell the weirdest but awesome stuff.”

“I, umm, already have a guide,” Two blushes a bit, “I’m meeting him after this.”

“One of yours, I assume?”

“No no, the prison guard. You know him - Topaz,” Two leans away and blinks when she sees Crumble’s fresh, thirsty grin of a shark seeing a flipping pair of legs.

“Coltfriend? EEEEEEEEK!” ignoring her wound, Crumble squeezes Two so hard the changeling’s eyes cross, “Is he good at drinking? Fighting? Mining? Did he already give you the biggest diamond ever? How’s his beard? Have you had ‘something’ together? When are grandfoals coming? I’M SO GIDDY MY LITTLE GIRL CAUGHT HER FIRST STALLION!”

“Grrrnghh...” Two foams at the mouth, but Crumble’s love and pure joy is filling her so fast her head is spinning. Or it could just be the lack of air caused by the vice-like hug that would give Three a run for his goop, “Not compared to me. Yes. I don’t know. Not yet. Soft and just the right length. Yes. I’m not sure.”

Crumble stops, scrunches her nose, and counts Two’s answers. Her eyes sparkle.

“Did you just say yes to the bed part?”

“Umm, yes?”

She leans to Two’s ear, and whispers despite there being no one else in the room.

“How was he?”

“Frothing,” Two scratches her head, managing to release one foreleg from Crumble’s embrace, “Happily, though, I think. He didn’t complain about anything. He could last longer, though. Hour and a half before he passed out the last time wasn’t bad, but… you know...”

“...I wish I had someone last that long...” Crumble complains before grinning wildly again, “Anyway, it’s great you’re enjoying it in bed. That’s one of the bases for a good relationship.”

“Well, I don’t know about this whole relationship thing, mom. We think about it too differently. For me, it was mostly for food. Not that I don’t like Topaz, it’s just that… I don’t know about this whole lifetime together plus few clutches of drones of our own.”

“Clutches...” Crumble ‘squee’s, “Like more than one grandfoal?!” she shakes her head, “Nevermind, not now! Look, Two, if you were that compatible in bed when it was just about food, imagine how awesome you’d be if you actually grow to love him.”

Two smiles.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, mom. It’s more about what d-d-dad-” Two has to pause to gather herself, but manages to fake a fresh smile, “more about what dad allows right now. He’s the boss, after all.”

If Crumble noticed the sudden drop in Two’s mood, she doesn’t press to know the reason.

“Then you’d better go and start practicing right now so that when big boss king says so, you’re visiting me with grandfoals immediately. Hmmm?” she nuzzles Two’s nose, immediately brightening her mood again, “Don’t leave your coltfriend waiting.”

“Hehehe,” Two giggles, and hops off of the bed, “Thanks mom. Get better soon.”

“I will. Don’t worry, honey.”

***

A short trip through the bustling city later, Living Armor meets up with Topaz. The dwarf is wearing his armor, obviously, but without a helmet, which makes it clear that he’s trimmed his dirty blond mane and short beard, and spent some time on fixing his usually sweaty grey coat. His yellow eyes, and probably the cause of his name, meet Two’s blue ones, and he gives her a soft smile. Despite Topaz liking Two in her changeling form, Two enjoys the perfected features of herself as Living Armor, so she’s been spending time with Topaz in both bodies, switching them whenever she felt like it. The dwarf didn’t mind. Or more likely he didn’t believe his luck.

“Hello, Two.”

“Hi, Topaz.”

“Are you ready to experience the wonders of Beerfest?”

“You mean when half of it isn’t set up yet?” Two tilts her head.

“Trust me, it’s better this way,” the dwarf takes lead, and Two locks her step with his, “The crowds are unbearable in the evening, although it’s part of the celebration’s charm. What definitely isn’t fun, though, are the queues.”

Two shrugs.

“What is Beerfest about anyway? Aside from beer.”

“Actually, it’s much less about beer than you’d think,” Topaz leads her to a nearby stand which offers, unsurprisingly, alcohol. And orders some bubbling green liquid, “Try this. Slowly.”

“You know I’m immune to alcohol, right? I don’t have a way to digest it.”

“Even like this?” he nudges her soft pony side.

“Mhm,” Two nods, “I don’t need most pony parts, so I’ve got my changeling insides,” she winks at him, “Aside from the bits you like, of course.”

“I like all your bits, no matter the shape. Mostly this one,” he boops Two’s nose, causing a reflexive scrunch.

“We’ll see about that later,” she playfully snaps her jaws at his hoof, and totals a shot glass of the weird fizzy, and freezing cold thing Topaz bought “So what about this not being about bee-AAAAAAH?!” green, sparkling foam starts surging from her nostrils, much to the open laughter of Topaz and several dwarves around.

“Told you to take it slow,” says Topaz when he stops choking at about the same time as Two, “These drinks are chemical solutions harmless to the body, but when you shake them, they get funny. The foam one is for beginners, but there’s also dragon breath one, steam, fresh mint, and many many others,” he points to a rack full of various bottles in front of the stand, “You up for another one?”

Two gives him a firm glare.

“You think a drink can scare me? Dragon breath, now!”

“Suuuure, just take it slow.”

Anything that helps take Two’s mind off of things is welcome, and she downs the dragon breath drink instantly.

“Oh dear...” Topaz facehoofs.

Two blinks. Hiccups. Then turns bright red. All of her.

She sneezes fire. Dwarves around jump away.

In the end, she smacks her lips.

“Huh, not bad, actually.”

“Umm, fitting choice of color…?” Topaz moves away when it turns out that Two’s display lured more customers to this particular stand.

“I, umm, can’t turn back,” Two giggles nervously, “Let’s try something less... chemical for a change before I get back to normal. So, what was that about beer?”

“Right, right,” Topaz picks a direction and leads Two through the streets again, “You see, Beerfest, or dwarven beer itself is different than that from the surface. It’s less alcohol and more a really nutritious meal. According to ancient legends, the ancestors could brew it in such way that they didn’t need normal food at all. They saved on farming space, and were able to build vast cities all over the world. A lot of it due to getting rid of logistics problems with perishable food. Cities all under the world, technically. Our beer is actually very healthy. Despite the name, Beerfest is more a celebration of what we, dwarves, achieved on our own without any outside help while the rest of the world had to cooperate to grow. Kinda a celebration of our purity too. Life underground in general, I’d say. Something we rebuilt after the ancestors disappeared.”

“Who are those ancestors you’re talking about?”

Topaz shrugs.

“I wish I could tell you, but all I know are legends which are half old and half fake, I’m pretty sure. Some say the ancestors could animate machines to look and talk like ponies, that they used bedrock as common building material, that they knew everything, in fact. I assumedark priests know more, because their enclave is supposed to be some ancestors’ fortress, but I’ve never even seen it, and I never will. All I know is that the ancestors disappeared after some huge underground war with… something. It’s difficult to believe that a whole race as powerful as them and spanning the entire world could be wiped out by a war, so you have to take legends as what they are - semi or completely fake stories to inspire dwarves.”

As they’re passing by a store featuring dwarf ponnequins wearing various articles of clothing, Two stops, and then looks at one from all angles. Topaz realizes what Two’s examining, and he looks away.

“A spidersilk corset,” she cranes her neck down to look at her belly, spreads her hind legs, then swings her hips from side to side. Noticing blushing Topaz, she smirks, “This could be useful.”

In a flash of green fire, thankfully not tomato red anymore, Living Armor is now wearing a light grey, silky corset sharply contrasting with her black, smooth coat and red mane. It’s so comfortable that it’s more an article of general clothing than bedroom wear.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” the store owner lured by the green flames peeks out of the door, pouting.

Topaz walks over to the vendor, and after few whispered words and coins exchanged, he gives Two the real corset.

“Why?” she asks.

“So that you’ve got something to remind you of me.”

“You just like how it makes my butt stand out.”

“Guilty as charged,” Topaz nuzzles Two’s neck, “But if you wear it under your armor, you’ll always feel warm, as if I was hugging you,” he realizes that contrary to other dwarves who wear clothes that couldn’t stop an axe swing only in emergencies or on festive occasions like this, Two kinda IS her armor, hence the nickname Topaz gave her and she’s been using as her real one whenever in public.

Contrary to how sweet Topaz’ gift is, the mention of warmth and hugs made Two’s mind drift to Crumble alone in the hospital…

...and then to Eight. Somewhere. Likely dead, because there’s no way anyone would survive multiple fatal wounds and that kind of blood loss.

And in the end, of course, to the warmest hugs ever, although she’d never say it in front of Three - hugs from bossdad.

A wave of weakness washes over Two, and she leans against Topaz with a sigh. The dwarf notices the change in behavior immediately, mostly because when one second his date looks as happy as ever, and then as if she was about to cry a river, no one can miss it.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

“No, no no no!” Two waves her forelegs defensively. When Topaz doesn’t look persuaded, she lowers her head, ears drooped, “Can we go somewhere where no one will hear us?”

Topaz wants to joke about a quickie in some back alley, but he knows that would probably be the last thing to ever leave his mouth. Putting on his serious face, he leads Two to a nearby corner cafe, and they sit down in a private booth by the wall. Topaz orders two drinks so that they’re not interrupted by the waitress later, and asks again:

“What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you this sad… ever, really.”

Two sighs, and tells Topaz everything from boss’ supposed assassination, to Eight’s… death as well as her role in it. What doesn’t ease her tale is that from shock of hearing about both rulers being either dead or at death’s door, the expression on Topaz’ face when she gets to her role and her feelings about Eight changes to sadness and disappointment. What’s worse, even though Topaz doesn’t let it show, she can sense it from him as a changeling - disgust.

“-and I know it’s bad, but look at what she did to me? She deserved it!” Two tries to defend herself, but has to look away because despite her best attempt, she can’t stop her tears.

He doesn’t reach out to comfort her.

“I… I don’t know enough to say anything groundbreaking, Two. I can’t relate, because my parents have always been...” he shrugs, “Normal, I assume. As a foal, they dropped me off at the foal care while they were at work. Dad used to be a guard who did his best to protect Brauheim from everything nasty around, and I became a guard to follow in his hoofsteps. I still remember the day mom told me he died because of a cave in caused by tunnel worm migration.”

“Worms migrate?” Two tries to steer the conversation away from the subject of dead parents with partial success.

“Tunnel worms are big and they keep moving around, grinding rock to gravel. The ground eventually becomes too soft for them so they move to a more solid area until an earthquake makes everything collapse into solid mass again. Anyway, I think about my dad every time I get bored on watch, and I remind myself that no matter what little I do, I’m contributing to keeping other dwarves safe like he did.”

“And your… mom?”

“She’s a cook at moss farms. There’s a limit to what you can do with moss and artificial flavors, but she makes a mean fake potato and spicy moss salad,” he sighs and finally leans in to grab Two’s hooves, “I promised her to take her to Beerfest later when it’s in full swing. Why am I telling you this? Because I’m a grown dwarf with my own life, yet I still dread the inevitable day when she’s gone. I know I will still be devastated no matter how ready I think I am. I can see that what you did weighs heavily on you, Two. You know what you did was wrong...” he frowns, “Genuinely horrible, to tell the truth. Hate never ends hate.”

Two sits there, silent for a while.

“You should be a good son and go see your mom now,” she says eventually, “This way you won’t get stuck in the queues, and there’s enough of Beerfest going on already so that it’s not boring.”

“We still have time, Two.”

“I… I should go check if Three didn’t drop that musclebound slut on the way here or anything. See you… sometimes,” Two trots off, leaving Topaz sitting at the table with Two’s untouched drink.

Two doesn’t stop trotting until she’s alone, which means outskirts of the city blissfully free of Beerfest and thus dwarves. She knows she lied to Topaz about going to check up on Eight. Or, for a moment, she wanted to, but… then the rage came back, the injustice that her dad can love someone as rotten as Eight.

Two ends up in the air vents, and curls up inside one.

“If dad somehow wakes up, he’ll learn about what I did to Eight. He’ll hate me, because he loves her so much. And if he doesn’t wake up and she somehow does… she’ll just kill me.”

Two whimpers, the dark cloud hanging over her making her completely oblivious to quiet hoofsteps where none should be. She notices the incoming figure only when its hooves are right by her nose.

“Wha-?” Two looks up.

There’s a powerful zebra stallion standing in front of her. All questions about how the hole he got there without wings, what is a zebra doing in Brauheim, or anything else evaporate from Two’s mind instantly as he looks her way.

Two feels giddy when he smiles at her, her heart racing.

“Hello again, little changeling.”

HE KNOWS WHO SHE IS! Two fangirls internally while giggling.

The zebra puts his large hoof under Two’s chin, and makes her look up into his glowing, golden eyes.

“What is someone as pretty as you doing here?”

Two giggles further, happy daze settling over her.

For the second time today, she spills out everything and more. Details she wouldn’t tell Topaz or anyone else really. Every little event from the moment she woke up covered in green goo to meeting the most beautiful stallion she’s ever seen. Dwarves are strong and muscular, but this zebra is physically maybe not so bulky, but broadly built anyway, lean and toned to perfection…

...and the scent. He smells so good. She could just drown in it. Her eyes roll backwards, and Two collapses on the floor.

The zebra’s smile fades, replaced by a horrifying, bloodthirsty scowl laced with pure fury which even Eight would appreciate.

“Well, well, well. Let’s pay this dying ‘boss’ of yours a long overdue visit.”

24: Thrown into a blender

View Online

“Hello, Five,” Six approaches the warrior inside the unusually silent castle in comparison to the city he saw outside while returning from the emerald mine. Dwarf guards at every corner have been giving him stern looks, but no one has tried to stop him. Come to think of it, Six hasn’t been spending much time in the castle, but weren’t there way fewer guards around before?

Five, of course, has known about the drone ever since he entered the castle, but the fact that he would be looking for her never crossed her mind. It’s been few lazy days recently, and no one wanted anything from her past the usual morning combat practice that she’s reverted to her usual way of killing time - standing at the door of the top floor castle library and letting her mind wander.

Considering that her mental powers are more or less nonexistent, she’s not surprised she hasn’t been able to sense boss or Eight for few hours, as the two have been disappearing together quite often recently. Two was supposed to be on a date with her dwarf coltfriend today as well, and no one else has contacted her about anything. So, with no orders to the contrary, Five’s been doing her default job.

Until now. Five opens her eyes.

“Hi, Six. Is there any trouble?”

The drone shrugs.

“I dunno. No one has said anything for a while, and I’ve been helping in the emerald mine until now. Three left somewhere and didn’t say where he was off to, just that Scream wanted something from him like she’s been doing, so I suppose it’s another mental massage thing or whatever it is. How does that work anyway?”

“Asking the wrong physical-focused changeling here, Six.”

“True, anyway, umm… you know there’s this big dwarf celebration outside, right?”

“Yes, I do. One of the big reasons why I’m inside.”

“Oh...” Six taps his hooves on the carpet before biting his lip and looking back up at Five, “I wanted to ask you if you’d go outside with me. I’ve got some gold, and some of the attractions look fun. I even asked, and a vendor said they had stuff that even we would consider delicious.”

”Boss, Eight, Two, anyone! Do you have anything for me to do?”

Only silence answers Five’s mental plea.

”Seven, I need orders! ANYTHING that would keep me in here,” she tries talking directly to the infiltrator, and gets booted out of his link immediately.

”Busy. Reading. Too much noise everywhere else.”

”...and I can hear you...” mumbles Six with a sigh.

His dejected look finally gives Five pause, and she pats the smaller changeling on the head.

“Fiiine, let’s go. Too many dwarves everywhere, and someone might accidentally drop their platemail on you. I’m your guard, Six. Enjoy yourself. I’ve got your back.”

“Sooo… you gonna do what I tell you to?” Six perks up immediately.

“Don’t push it.”

“Alright, you gonna do few things if I ask nicely?”

“We’ll see.”

***

The two stroll lazily through the now crowded castle square, Five, ‘disguised’ as Flower Pot, following Six who is turning his head from side to side, examining every temporary stall or stone store.

“Win your lady something unique, and she’ll treasure you forever!” yells a dwarf over the talking crowd, which makes Six take a sharp turn to a several ponies long track with a stall in front and painted round targets at the end. There are various plushies, things made from precious metals, gadgets, and many more prizes.

A throwing range?

A dwarf whose turn it is now spins an axe by the loop on its end, then swings his foreleg. To his credit the axe hits the furthest target, even the bullseye, but from the looks of it the wooden circle must be reinforced somehow because the axe bounces off.

“What’s the grand prize?” Six pokes the stall owner. The dwarf grins, and points to a glass tube with a single rose inside it, “A real crystallized rose, mister, straight from the surface and treated by a dark priest. Will last for centuries,” he glances Five’s way, “One bit per axe throw.”

“Gimme three!” Six bounces up and down, presenting the coins.

“Sure thing.”

The currently throwing dwarf curses when his axe bounces off again.

“Freaking rigged...” he mumbles and leaves.

“Here you go!” the smiling owner gives Six the throwing axe. The drone spins it around, and it flops off on its own.

“Oops! Sorry, it’s my first time.”

The owner’s smile grows even wider.

“That attempt was on the house. So, still three more.”

As expected, on the third attempt Six can barely throw the axe in the right direction, much less hit the target and make the axe stick. If he knew this would be an opportunity, he would have asked Battlecry to give him some private lessons.

“Damn it!” he frowns, “Can I have five more?” he jingles his pouch of coins.

“Hey, let somepony else take a shot!” yells a dwarf from the crowd.

Five rolls her eyes.

“Just one more throw, can we?”

“Umm, Five?” Six looks up at her.

“Of course, gorgeous lady,” the stall owner takes Six’s coin, “Although I think the little guy wanted to win it for you.”

“Yeah!” Six nods vigorously.

Ignoring them both, Five starts spinning the axe, her eyes locked on the target. Six senses the usage of love and…

...Five’s axe bites into the most difficult target, a short distance away from its center, then it flops out.

“Owwww, so close!” announces the owner, “You might want to give one of the easier prizes a shot-”

“One final throw. For real this time,” says Five. Six immediately produces a coin which the attraction owner pockets with an even bigger grin.

Five filters out the crowd, the owner, Six’s smiling face, and recalls only her training with Battlecry. The axe is obviously dull, the target reinforced, and the owner shady. However, Five lives to serve the hive, and right now there’s very little that would make one of its members happier than to get the preserved rose.

For the good of the hive.

The axe catches fire mid-flight and shatters the target into pieces. Everyone’s jaws drop. Six starts cheering, forelegs in the air and eyes glowing.

Five makes few circles with her throwing shoulder and rubs it.

“Ouch!”

“Wh-how-wh-cheating! Magic!” the vendor complains, but immediately withers under Five’s flat glare.

“I’ve got few royal witnesses that I can’t use magic no matter how hard I try. I won this fair and square. and my shoulder still hurts from throwing that prop you call an axe. Now, let’s give others a chance to play.”

The crowd has thinned out a little with the grand prize obviously claimed, but there are still enough contenders for other stuff even after the owner sighs and presents the glass tube with the rose to Five who gives it to Six.

“Here you go.”

The two meld into the mass of dwarves everywhere around, and Six pokes Five’s side after a moment. To her surprise, he’s pouting.

“That was really cool, Five, but, you know, I wanted you to have the flower.”

“Technically, I won it so it’s mine. You’re just holding it for me.”

“But I wanted to give it to you!”

“Alright, it’s yours now. You can give it to me if you want.”

Six lets out an annoyed huff. Then he presents the tube with his both forelegs to Five.

“Umm, Five, I want you to have this. It’s the closest thing I’ve seen today to how pretty you are, and I think it would look good on you.”

Five raises an eyebrow, takes the rose out of the container, and tucks it behind her ear, fastening it with few strands of mane.

“When I turn back into a changeling, I’ll shove it into a leg hole or something if it makes you happy.”

To her confusion, Six doesn’t feel any happier, but she follows him anyway. Eventually, the crowds grow smaller, and most importantly - quieter.

“You hate this, don’t you?” asks Six out of nowhere.

“Not as such, no,” Five shrugs.

“It’s because it’s me, isn’t it?”

Five looks at the smaller drone, sensing his disappointment.

“No, not really,” she sighs, “Look, Six, I don’t know what you want from this. If you want a quick roll in the hay, we can find a quiet spot a bit further away. I don’t mind, or care, really-”

“No!” Six objects, backing off, “Not like this at least. It hurts me to know what Two did to you, even more that it’s my fault. Well, only a little, but still. I wanted you to have fun, to be happy. I feel warm inside when I see you smile, and I don’t think I’ve seen that ever since I left for my mission which ended with you… like this.”

“I smile plenty, Six. Now that I know the real relationship between the boss and Eight, I don’t really mind too much what Two did anyway. She hasn’t been ordering me to do anything recently. And no, it’s not your fault. I tried to justify my situation in such way when I was angry, but the truth is that I failed my mission, failed to resist Two’s mental attack, and ended up like this. I’m not mad at you, Six. Truth be told, considering how things worked out… I’m glad I failed to kill you. I’m just a warrior, Six. My situation doesn’t change too much, really. I obey whoever’s in charge.”

“Don’t say that!” Six jabs her chest. She gives the little hoof a mildly amused look.

“That I’m glad I didn’t kill you?”

“You know what I mean, Five! I know you’re not a mindless punching machine you make yourself to be.”

“Six, you see much more in me than is there. I really only wish to serve our hive, to make sure you all are protected. What I want directly coincides with what the boss wanted… wants… with his goal. I want to serve him to the limits of my meager ability, silent and invisible. Seeing all of you grow and succeed is what makes me happy, Six.”

“Being with you is what makes ME happy,” Six glares at Five. Neither of them feels the other is happy at all in the current situation, so Five closes her eyes and boops Six.

“I’m not sending you away.”

“Good!” he turns around and starts walking, “Because I’m not going anywhere!”

Five considers standing still and pointing it out when Six is a bit further away, but decides against teasing the drone any further. The current peace is too fragile for more jabs, so she picks up the pace and catches up with him.

“Hey, look!” Six pushes past few dwarves again, Five’s presence silencing few mumbled complaints, “Sweetened, edible spider silk. Delicious and nutritious,” he reads a plaque on one stall where a mare is rolling a something foamy-looking on a stick.

“If I say I don’t want any, will it stop you?” Five mumbles, but Six is already paying the vendor, “Such a waste of resources...” she shakes her head.

Six returns with a huge stick he’s barely holding up and a pink blob on it almost the size of himself.

“I’ll- whoah-” he stumbles when he tries to raise it up to Five’s muzzle, “I’ll make you see yourself the way I see you. Hmm? Try it!” of course, when he shoves it closer to Five, the heavy cargo makes him almost keel over and stumble forward again, “Oops, sorr- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Five, having been hit straight in the face by the mass of edible pink foam now covering her whole head, rolls her eyes, and licks a chunk off with her prehensile tongue.

“Hmmm… it doesn’t taste half bad, actually,” she admits, finally seeing Six beam happily.

***

“Boss will be so mad when he wakes up-”

Drag.

“-but it would be so much worse-”

Drag.

“-if he had to go down and bring-”

Drag.

“-all miss Eight’s bits back.”

Eight’s mane in his mouth, Three finally enters the castle guest room the wall of which Eight demolished earlier while following the assassin. Eight’s body has stopped bleeding a long time ago, something which Three chose to interpret as getting better rather than complete blood loss.

“STOP!”
“WHAT THE-”
“BY MURADIN’S HELMET!”

Dwarf guards surround Three when he enters the castle hallway, one immediately rushing off to inform Granite. Three, blinking away sweat, gives the guards a dizzy smile, and says:

“Can you… hospital… something…?” his head spins now that there’s someone else around to help. He feels weaker than ever before, possibly with the exception of back in the hive.

Granite arrives at gallop, accompanied by a group of dwarves with a stretcher, stopping in front of Three and Eight with a horrified expression.

“What happened?” when dizzy Three fails to answer immediately, Granite grits his teeth, “Castle infirmary, immediately. We’ve got better equipment than any of the hospitals. Three, are you alright?”

“Together...” he mumbles, collapsing from complete exhaustion, “Must be… together...”

Granite points at three guards who load Eight’s remains on the stretcher, and one puts thankfully unharmed Three on his back.

“Loremaster,” the dwarves move as fast as they can, but one glances Granite’s way, “The queen is dead. Nothing can survive having their heart ripped out, snapped neck, and all limbs missing.”

“Look,” Granite hisses back, “There’s one thing I learned from working with the king - these guys are tough. If Three brought the queen here despite her state, then he must believe there is something that can be done. Until she starts rotting, we’re taking care of her, and if Three wants to be by her side, he will be. Understood?”

“Yes, loremaster!” everyone not currently busy salutes.

“Anyway, I’ve seen the queen fight, and I’d hate to meet whatever did this to her. Let’s put castle security into crisis mode, blame it on Beerfest like before. Dark priests...” he sighs, “If they are in the city, escort them out. If they are in the castle - our standing orders remain. Kill them on sight. I can assure you that the idea that your whole family will be cursed forever if you harm one is just a myth. They are dwarves like anyone else. We can’t afford more problems right now.”

“Yes, loremaster!”

The called doctors and guards secure a room which will serve to ‘keep’ Eight ‘alive’ despite her body not breathing, bleeding, or reacting to anything. However, soon she’s on mechanical lungs and heart. Thankfully, despite massive differences, changelings are internally somewhat similar to ponies aside from their digestive tract, which lets the doctors hook Eight up properly. Not that it changes anything, though.

Three is put on a bed next to hers, with his diagnosis being complete exhaustion. The last doctor switches off the lights on the way out, leaving only the faint pink shimmer of Three’s runes dispelling complete darkness.

When everyone is gone, Three yawns, hops off of his bed, and puts his forelegs on Eight’s bed.

“That’s not gonna work,” with a frown, he pulls off a pillow from his bed, and sits down on it right by Eight’s bed, putting his chin and nose on it next to her hooves, “I can’t afford to nap now.”

The dwarves don’t know it. They just know that Eight’s body is for all intents and purposes dead. However, Three can feel the faint drain of love when he tries to send energy Eight’s way. What’s more important, though, is the much greater drain on Three coming from the hive mind. The runes on his body glow brighter, and then everything goes black.

When Three opens his eyes again, he’s standing in the inky blackness of the hive mind. He feels Five and Six being together. He feels Seven, albeit very faintly, as if the changeling is focusing on something so hard he’s barely linked up. He doesn’t feel Two at all for some reason.

Who he does feel despite the circumstances, is…

“Miss Eight?”

The warrior steps out from the blackness, and sits down, facing Three.

“You are amazing, Three,” she says.

“Well, if you and boss say that, then it’s gotta be true, right?” he grins, “I even surprised miss Scream.”

With the mention of the alicorn, Eight’s gentle smile fades.

“I need to have a serious chat with her. She knows what’s going on. She called the guy who chewed me up like that an ‘elder Vigil’, whatever that is.”

“Never heard anything like that before,” Three shrugs, “I could ask mister Granite. He’s knows a lot of underground stuff.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. Scream doesn’t, and she identified the Vigil thing immediately. That’s why I doubt Granite will know anything, but it’s worth a shot.”

“I can’t leave you alone, though. Dwarves have a ton of strange, beeping and whirring machines connected to you, but I don’t think they’re doing much. If I go away-”

“I’ll immediately run out of love and die,” Eight nods, “I know. This is going to be a test for both of us, if ever I saw one.”

“You don’t look bothered.”

“Three… with what Granite said about boss being poisoned, I honestly don’t care about living or dying too much. Speaking of which, you don’t know anything about boss’ state, do you?”

“Sorry, miss,” Three shakes his head, “I barely managed to drag you back to the castle. I’m about to pass out as is. I just wanted to funnel some more love into your body just in case.”

“Three, you are the best friend boss or I could have ever hoped for, but I’m going to need even more from you.”

Three simply nods.

“Of course, miss Eight.”

“You can’t go to sleep yet. I’ve gone through your head a little, and I know in what shape my body is. Without One, we don’t have anyone who knows how to stage a proper rebirth.”

“Can’t you stay in my head like I did in the boss’? Or like the old queens and mister Wistful did?”

“That’s what I’m doing now, and in such short time I’ve managed to almost drain YOU, and you are our little love generator. A lot of it was the physical effort you had to make to get me back into the castle, and another chunk was my body trying to stay barely alive, but you won’t be able to handle this. I hooked up to Two as well, which helped, but I lost my connection to her some time ago. Even if I connected to everyone, you’d all starve within days, maybe weeks even with full love gathering. I’m not too subtle with the mental stuff, so I can’t just mentally hibernate or whatever the old rulers did not to burn everyone out instantly. I need to stay connected to my physical body to avoid that.”

“When you wake up-”

“IF I do, Three. In our situation, if boss dies or is dead already, I might not even bother.”

“WHEN you wake up,” Three cranes his neck to see up to Eight’s eyes, “What are you going to do to Two? I’m sure you know what happened.”

Eight closes her eyes for a moment.

“I’m not going to rip her to shreds if you’re bothered about that. What happened was my fault more than anyone else’s. The fact that she refused to save me is secondary. Though I might opt for a good spanking.”

Three lets out a sigh of relief before tensing up again.

“And what about the Vigil thing? Is it really that strong? I thought you could recover from worse wounds than missing heard, broken spine, losing all blood and limbs… now that I say it out loud, I feel kinda stupid. Sorry.”

Eight pats his head.

“I burned way too much love on the fight, and I was nowhere near full even before that. You see, when he punched me...” Eight bites her lip, “My chitin was hardened to maximum, but the force… it almost liquified me on the inside. I had to regenerate from that at first, but I thought it was magic or something, so I didn’t want to give him a chance to use it again. Alright, I was out of it, and completely berserk too, but I’m not braindead, so this was the point. I… I’ve never met a fully grown dragon, but I’m pretty sure the Vigil was somewhere on that level. What’s worse that my full strength didn’t make him even flinch,” she sighs, “That’s just to explain why I’m in way worse shape than I would normally be after getting stomped in such way.”

“Well, I’m just happy you’re still here,” Three hugs her leg.

He squeaks when Eight scoops him up with her forelegs like a small filly, and into a tight hug.

“I didn’t have the time to show you properly how much I missed you, Three, and I wouldn’t know how to do it anyway. If you were the boss or One or someone like that, I’d blow their mind in the bed or fulfill any fantasy they had, but for you? I don’t have a clue. Is there something you want? Anything.”

“Anything?” he lifts his head from her shoulder.

“Absolutely anything that’s in my power. I mean it.”

Three blushes, poking his forelegs together.

“Well, I mean… well… you and boss… he’s always so happy when you mention that… you know, the things that drones don’t get to do... but I don’t even know what that is… I just nod and laugh not to seem even dumber than I am, but… I’m just happy when you’re happy...”

Eight leans back, blinking in surprise.

“I take it back!” Three covers his muzzle, “Drones don’t get to do that, so we don’t even need to know what that is. I just wanted to be in on the joke.”

Eight’s muzzle pushes between Three’s hooves. She boops his tiny nose with hers, and then presses her lips to his in a soft kiss. Just the plush touch and slow motion of the warrior’s soft mouth makes Three wibble his forelegs nervously because he has no clue what to do, but only then he realizes how sweet miss Eight smells from this up close.

To be honest, for a fraction of a second, he feels jealous of the boss, but that is drowned instantly by pure happiness about how lucky his best friend is to have found miss Eight. And miss Eight might look scary at times, but is Three’s good friend too.

But... Three immediately decides that he definitely does like ‘that’.

Eight breaks probably the chastest kiss she’s ever given to anyone, and rubs her nose against Three’s before putting him down.

“Consider this lesson one, Three. I might not have much to give, but if you want to know more about ‘that’, then I’m sure I can show you the sweetest parts.”

“Boss did scream a lot...” Three hesitates.

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” she gently bites Three’s neck, making him shiver, then gives him another peck on the lips.

Three now red as a tomato and looking at the black ground, still smiles despite his confusion.

“Thank you, miss Eight.”

“No, thank you, Three. For being by our side all this time.”

Hive mind disperses, and Three finds himself sitting by Eight’s bed, still tired, but with his runes burning brightly. Miss Eight needs him to stay awake and slowly, very slowly, carefully, and without a break pump her body full of love. Boss needs miss Eight to be a the best boss he can be. Three can’t imagine being happy without them both.

That’s how things must be, that’s all the little drone knows. Everything else is secondary.

***

Not too far away, actually, in the darkness of a sealed room protected by a hallway filled with dwarf guards clutching their weapons and scanning the area for ANYTHING out of place, stands Two’s zebra stallion whose face is contorted with the purest form of rage as he stares at the limp body of the changeling king in such agony that any mentally proficient creature in the vicinity can feel it as their own.

The dwarves don’t have the faintest idea that there’s an intruder in their most secure sanctum.

The handsome zebra stallion with a build which would put any guard, model, or warlord to shame pulls out a talisman bearing the symbol of the sun from his saddlebag, and approaches the boss.

Finally, the long chase is over.

25: Face your darkness, or die crying

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Slouching Three’s forehead touches Eight’s bed, and the drone bolts upright in an attempt to stay awake. He’s been sitting in the dark room for two critical days, occasionally interrupted by a doctor checking Eight’s unchanging state. Eight hasn’t talked to Three since, something which he’s grateful for because any more energy drain could mean him falling asleep and disturbing the carefully maintained stream of love. On the other hole, having someone to keep him company would definitely make staying awake easier.

His bleary eyes look at Eight as he hears her mental voice.

”You really are something, you know that?” she says, and the love drain which has brought Three to near collapse stops completely.

“Wh-whuh-mhhh…?” Three blinks, then quickly checks the runes on his foreleg for the good old glow. It’s there, soft and weak, so he’s not completely drained, “...miss Eight…?”

”It looks like the old bag of chitin is starting to catch on,” Eight chuckles, ”You should go and have a rest now, Three.”

“But you’re still just a husk, miss Eight. With machines breathing and doing heart stuff for you.”

”That’s an order, Three. I don’t need constant love flow anymore, and if I tried to refill and heal instantly, it would hurt you. Just send someone to check up no me from time to time, or do it yourself.”

“But-”

”If you’ve got time to argue, you’ve got time to visit the boss and go help him like you did to me.”

Three shakes his head, then hangs his head low.

”Wait… don’t tell me he is...”

“Oh, no no no,” Three conjures a weak smile, “Well… I must confess to something, miss Eight. I went away for few minutes to check up on the boss last night. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bear not knowing how he was, and I was falling asleep so I thought stretching my legs would help and-”

”I understand, Three, no matter how stu- risky it was. What did you find?” even Eight can’t hide the fear in her voice.

“That I can’t do anything,” Three hides his face with his forelegs, “He’s just lying there, not moving, and I can’t even link up to him. I can barely stay in his room, because I can feel it from him. There’s just… pain. He’s not taking my love when I’m around too. I can’t help him. After all he did for me.. and I can’t help him at all.”

”Pain, huh...” Eight muses, ”That’s good.”

“How can you say that, miss Eight?”

”If he’s in pain, no matter how much, then it means he’s still alive and fighting.”

“Oh? Oh!”

”So, Three, let me repeat my order. Go away, and have a good night’s sleep. My body will survive on the machines now, I can feel it. You did a great job.”

“Okay, miss Eight,” Three stands up on wobbly legs, “Good night.”

”Night, Three.”

With that, Three gives Eight a quick peck on the cheek, and wobbles out of the queen’s bedroom. The guards lining the hallway give him few cursory glances when he yawns, but no one tries to question or bother him in any way. Few hallways away, Three pulls on a lamp disguised as fake torch, a section of wall slides away, and then closes behind him. Three can’t be bothered to go back to the emerald mine which in his current state feels continents away, and this place is suitably cool and dark. Letting out one final squeaky yawn, he curls up into a ball, and falls asleep.

***

When Three wakes up, he instantly realizes he’s not alone, and perks up his ears. Sitting upright, he notices Six dozing off nearby with his eyes closed, back propped against a wall.

“Hmm, Six? Do you need anything?”

The other drone’s soft snoring stops as he instantly wakes up.

“Oh, ehm, I fell asleep too, didn’t I?”

“Mhm. So what’s up?” linking to everyone, Three notices he can sense Two again, although her connection is unusually weak. Still better than nothing, though.

“Well...” Six scratches his head, “You know that I like Five, right?”

Three immediately blushes because he recalls miss Eight’s soft lips and her few gentle kisses. Lucky boss...

“Yep, I do.”

“And do you remember how I asked the dwarves in the mine about some tips to make her like me?”

“You don’t want to drop a mountain on her and then dig her up to be her hero, do you?” Three raises an eyebrow.

“Good memory, but you picked the wrong suggestion. I picked the big diamond one.”

“That makes more sense, yeah,” Three nods, breathing out a relieved sigh.

“So, I found this big diamond in the restricted deep mines, dug it all by myself, and got it back here. I tried to figure out the next bit, and I think I need help.”

“Sure,” Three stretches his legs. He’s still feeling a bit weak, but that’s waning with every passing moment, “What’s the big plan?”

“Well,” Six looks away, mumbling, “...Ineedtocutthediamondinthedarkpriestplace...”

“What was that?”

“I need to cut the diamond in the place where the dark priests live. I heard they have these machines which can cut it in some weird way that makes the diamond glow with even the smallest bit of light. I want Five to light up whenever she looks at it.”

“I don’t think she would enjoy being set on fire, but you know her better than I do.”

Six facehoofs.

“Well, I’m sure I’m gonna need help with this, which is why I’m asking you.”

“Why me, though? I’m sure the place will be guarded, and those guys don’t like us very much. They didn’t look like they liked other dwarves very much either. Wouldn’t an infiltrator like Seven be better, with his magic and all?”

“Seven wouldn’t go even if I asked, and would just call me stupid,” Six pouts, “Five, you know, I want this to be a surprise, and this won’t be a warrior thing anyway. Two’s been away all the time, and she doesn’t let me link to her. And… well… boss and Eight would say it’s stupid. Look, I tried taking Five out on Beerfest, and it didn’t work. She didn’t mind, but that’s not enough. I NEED this.”

Three blinks. In the wake of the tragedy befalling the boss and miss Eight, he had no idea that the only changelings who know exactly what’s going on are boss, miss Eight, Two, and Three himself. Five, Seven, and Six are out of the loop.

Which… maybe… is a good thing. No reason to make them sad as well. Granted, this technically means that Three is in charge, seniority-wise as well as ‘actually gives a hug about what is going on elsewhere’-wise.

Okay, so what is temporary boss Three going to do?

The love between miss Eight and boss has been driving them forward, giving them hope and strength to face everything. It took time to build up too, so who is Three to say that it can’t work with Five and Six? Also, drone bros!

“Alright, Six. I’m in. If you sneaking into the dark priest enclave to make a crazy gift for Five doesn’t work, nothing will. But,” Three raises his foreleg, “first things first. Do you know what the machine you’re looking for is?”

Six shrugs.

“Okay, that’s step three then. Step two, do you have a plan on how to get inside the dark priest enclave?” Three continues, and suppresses a desire to facehoof when Six shrugs again, “Okay, nevermind. How about step one - WHERE is the enclave?”

Six now hangs his head, the idea of failing before he even started hitting him hard. Three pats his drone buddy’s head.

“You just want Five to have her big diamond at all cost, don’t you.”

“Mhm...”

“Then we need some time to plan things out,” Three stands up with a determined expression on his face, “because if we get caught then they’ll take your diamond away and that’s that… in the best case,” Three adds, frowning.

A moment of careful pondering later he looks up-

“Eep!”

-at Six reverently staring at him.

“You’re really smart, you know that?” says Six, leaving Three at loss for words. Even temporary leadership is a new and unexplored territory, “Without you, I would have rushed off and gotten myself lost or worse - caught.”

“Thank you?”

“So, what do we do… boss?” asks Six.

“Temporary boss.”

“What do we do, temp boss?”

***

As the door of the council room opens after the daily meeting, Granite lets out a tired sigh before noticing Three sitting by the opposite wall, trailing him with his eyes. A shiver immediately runs down the dwarf’s spine when Three stands up.

“Good morning, mister Granite,” says Three, his cheerful tone dispelling Granite’s paranoia about bad news regarding the death of the queen or much worse... the king, albeit the later one is only a matter of time. Granted, the king has survived the brass spike poison longer than anything before, but Granite saw that during his last visit, the king’s carapace was sickly and greying.

“Is anything wrong, Three?”

More wrong than before?

“Nothing new, mister Granite, other than that miss Eight is slowly getting better,” Three shakes his head, much to Granite’s relief. No news is good news, “But I want to ask you something. Can I?”

The loremaster doesn’t question anymore how a limbless changeling with snapped spine and ripped out heart can be getting better.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Where do the dark priests live?”

What?

“In their enclave much deeper than Brauheim.”

“Oh, I heard that too, but I mean where is it really?”

Granite rubs his beard.

“It’s near the ancient istrium mines, I don’t know where exactly. When I was there as a neophyte, I wasn’t allowed to leave the vicinity of the enclave, and after I refused to… to...” his expression darkens, “to undergo the final ritual, I got knocked out and woke up back in Brauheim.”

“Is there anyone who knows where their home is?”

“Why do you want to know that?”

“Ummm… I don’t wanna lie, so… do I have to answer that?”

“Three, you don’t want to do something stupid, such as attacking the place as revenge for what they did to the king, do you?”

Horrified Three vigorously shakes his head.

“No, definitely not! I just… well… Six has this plan, and he needs some dark priest stuff for it.”

“You know I can’t let you go there. Religious excuses aside, if the queen is getting better, then she’ll kill me and likely half of the city if she finds out.”

Three pouts.

“Well, umm… I’m third in senator- señorita- seniority after boss and miss Eight, which means I’m in charge… maybe? So you can’t stop me or Six.”

“That’s not how rulership of Brauheim works,” Granite tilts his head, now equally amused and worried.

“Oh...” Three withers, “And if I transform into the boss and tell you to let us go down there?”

Granite can’t handle listening to Three’s attempts at being deviously manipulative anymore. It’s like watching a cave spider attempting to work out astrophysics.

“Look, Three, I understand I can’t keep you locked up, but I really don’t want you to get hurt, and not only because I’d be the one who has to explain it later. How about you level with me about your plan, and I tell you if there’s something I know that might help?”

“Okay!” Three looks around. The council members have left the room already, so he trots inside, followed by Granite who closes the door behind them, “So, it’s like this-”

He relays how Six got his big diamond, and what he means to do next with it. To his mild surprise, Granite looks rather impressed with Six’s feat.

“-and now he wants to cut the diamond so that it glows.”

Aaaand here comes the facehoof. Or… not?

“It might come as a shock to you, but this ISN’T the dumbest engagement or wedding gift idea I’ve ever heard BY FAR,” Granite only nods and sighs, “I’d urge you to reconsider, but I suppose it would be pointless.”

“Six really wants this, and he would do it alone if I didn’t help, mister Granite. I told him this would be dangerous, but he needs even what little help I can offer.”

Granite closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then opens them.

“If you want to have at least some chance, you need to look like them. Thankfully, that isn’t difficult, because all you need are the robes, which aren’t anything special, and you can shapeshift. You won’t be able to imitate dark guards, because no one outside the enclave has their power armors. You can already avoid the changeling alarms. Once inside, you want the crafting sector. The machines you need look like big boxes with an indentation in the center and big mechanical arms around it. The arms bear lasers which will cut your diamond in few minutes at most.”

Three nods after listening intently.

“Is there anyone who can tell us where the dark priest home with the lazy boxes is?”

They’re gonna die...

“I doubt that, unless you catch and question some dark priest. During my day, they came and went freely, but under your king, things might be different.”

“Thank you very much for all the help, mister Granite.”

“Good luck, Three, and if anything goes even remotely wrong, run as fast as you can. I doubt I’d survive for long if I had to recap what happened to the queen.”

As Three rushes off, Granite sends a quick prayer to the ancestors.

***

Step two.

“I would like two of those, miss, please,” Three points to a brown robe slightly over his size displayed on a ponnequin by the store window.

The mare smiles, and returns with the presented clothing, both pieces expertly folded, which she places on the counter.

“Five gold pieces each, or you can pay in gems, of course.”

Three, wearing no clothes or a belt with a pouch, pats himself, making it completely obvious that he forgot the crucial part of the transaction.

“Ummm...” he looks at the vendor mare, “Can we borrow them then? Or I can bring you some emeralds later.”

“I’m sorry, mister changeling, but I can’t just give away my wares-”

Three gives her his best pleading and dejected look.

“-no no matter, not even if you look at me like that. No, don’t you wibble at me- hnnngh!” the mare suddenly clutches her chest.

“Pretty pleeeeeeeeease,” the wibble of Three’s lower lip intensifies.

As the mare gasps for breath and her eyes roll back, Six can’t handle it anymore and steps in front of Three.

“Stop it, you heart attack inducing machine, I have the money-”

*Thud!*

The vendor mare keels over behind the counter, falling completely silent.

“Crap… now we’ve got a dead dwarf on our hooves,” Six facehoofs.

“What? NO!” Three, in sudden panic at hearing the words, bounces over the counter straight ON the mare’s chest on accident, making her cough and resume gasping, “Are you okay, miss?”

“No… free… stuff...” the mare wheezes, “Ughh… my chest...”

Three carefully crawls off of her.

“Now I’ve seen everything,” Six smacks his face into the counter, then pulls out the required gold from his pouch, and puts it on the table, “Let’s go, Three. I’ve paid for the robes.”

“Neat!” this time Three simply walks around the counter, and before the two changeling leave, he calls at the groaning vendor, “Thank you for the cheap price on the clothes, miss. I’ll bring you some emeralds later anyway!”

“Hnnnngh...”

Ded.

***

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” asks Six after Three leads him down into the enormous ravine where Eight followed the dark priest assassin.

“Well, not really, but this is my best guess. When the dark priest poisoned the boss, miss Eight followed him this way, and then she met this Vigil thingy who ripped her to bits.”

Six’s wings stop, and he drops like a rock for a moment before he realizes what Three just said.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO WHO WHEN?!”

Buzzing down next to him, Three recapitulates to Six the events of the past few days. Jaw dropped and eyes wide, Six listens, not daring to interrupt.

“WHY DID NO ONE-”

“Shhhhh!” Three puts his hoof to Six's mouth.

“Why does no one know this?!” Six might be whispering, but the incredulity in his voice is palpable.

“I dunno,” Three shrugs, “I guess you aren’t used to reporting too much. Seven has been spending time in the library-”

”I’ve borrowed nerd bug in the wake of recent assassination and a suicide-by-Vigil attempt events,” Scream’s golden wings plop out nearby as the alicorn’s ethereal form appears, ”And the short answer to your question, replaceable bug, is that nerd bug is busy working for me, slave bug is guarding him like she’s been doing forever, and waiting for more orders from smart bug which won’t come, because somepony has screwed with her head, she knows it, and is hella depressed and ran away.”

“Okay, once again and slower this time,” Six facehoofs, “Everything went to shit over the past three days HOW?!”

”Boss bug, dead or dying. Punch bug, barely alive amputee corpse. Smart bug, knocked out, dazed, and confused. Nerd bug, I borrowed him for a while. Slave bug, doing her best flower pot impression. You two… what ARE you two actually doing here?”

“Six wants to cut that big diamond in his bag using some dark priest machine, but we don’t know where they live.”

”So you’re following the route the assassin went. Be careful not to step into the punch bug bits,” Scream nods to the pile of Eight’s limbs which Three swept together before dragging her back up into the castle.

“...oh holes...” Six gags, “...someone, someTHING did this to EIGHT...?”

”Oh right, if you meet a Vigil, run.”

“You haven’t told us what that Vigil thing IS!” Six scowls at Scream.

”Okay, quickly - there’s this cult which worships one of the three gods of Equus, actual gods, not demigods like us alicorns. That god is an asshole, and I’m trying to stop his plan of returning to this world. No, before you ask, you can’t help. I’ve got better allies working on this. So, these cultists call themselves the Vigil, and have received certain powers for their service. The elder ones can adapt to anything. If there’s a limit, we haven’t found it yet. This means that if you can’t obliterate one instantly, don’t touch them, because next time they’ll be completely immune to what you tried last time. Punch bug tried raw strength, but that’s something the Vigils have more than enough experience with from facing my associates.”

“Okay then, we’re to avoid them at all costs, got it,” Six nods, “but what is one doing here?”

Scream shrugs.

”No clue. They aren’t too smart, considering their higher functions are controlled more by their hive mind than them, so one might have simply taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque.”

“You don’t believe that one bit, do you?” Six raises an eyebrow.

”Nope. Left here,” Scream nods to the tunnel.

“Cool. Do you know where the dark priests live?” asks Three.

”Nah,” Scream waves her hoof, ”There’s directions on the wall.”

The mess of pictograms, runes. strange writing makes no sense to Three or Six despite them both being fairly competent in dwarvish by now.

“You can understand this?” Six nods to the passing wall.

”Yeah, these are some physics equations regarding heat transfer through metals.”

“Oh, like the dwarves use in their geothermal power plants, right?”

Both Three and Scream stop, staring at Six who shifts uncomfortably.

“Hey, you know that boss signed me and Five to Hard Reset’s class, don’t you?”

”Note to self - rename disposable bug.”

“You’ll be super smart soon!” Three cheers.

”Volume down, will you?” Scream smacks Three over the head, her hoof harmlessly passing through, ”The Silversmith prison is near, and voices carry far down here.”

“What do you mean by prison? And Silversmith?” Six gives her a suspicious stare.

”Do I look like a history teacher?” Scream rolls her eyes, ”I’ve done some digging and remembering since I found your boss, and I’m pretty sure that what dwarves call dark priests are just some other dwarves who found a Silversmith prison, or were sent there ages ago, and when their ‘ancestors’ disappeared they kept using the technology or something. This is guesswork really. However, the signs on the walls don’t point to any other structure, so I assumed what they called an enclave is that.”

“Aaand the Silversmith thing?”

”One of the oldest civilizations on Equus. They survived Void fucking up the surface by moving deep down, so while other races got nearly wiped out before Void was stopped, these guys flourished and advanced way ahead of others.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about...” Six shakes his head.

”Old history. Not important anyway.”

“Wait, didn’t you say some Void was your friend?” Three scratches his head, recalling Scream’s massage talk, “Are you a baddie, miss Scream?”

”Details details. Now, if I were you I’d put those robes on and change into something bald. I doubt even your changeling charm would be enough to make the shortstack fanatics let you inside.”

“Right!” Six stops, “Everything I’ve heard today about history or the boss’ predicament is way above drone pay grade. We’re here to make Five’s dream come true!”

”Does she even know she has a diamond dream?”

“Don’t sweat the unimportant stuff. Now, Three, let’s transform and check each other’s disguises.”

A couple of whoosh noises later, two bald and bearded dwarves are staring at each other, accompanied by a maniacal laughter of an invisible golden alicorn.

“Okay, Three. Nice try, but you can’t have glowing purple beard,” Six’s explains patiently.

“It’s like my runes, and if we lose a lamp we won’t need to turn back-”

“Beards don’t glow, Three. Not even the dark priest ones. I’ve met quite a few of them while working under Eight. AND NO PURPLE!”

*Whoosh!*

“Better, better,” Six appreciates Three’s second attempt, “But no pink either. Pick a shade of brown, black, white, or rusty, maybe a bit blond if you want.”

Another whoosh leaves Six in the company of a very passable dark priest. Almost.

“Okay, that’s good, but there’s one more thing.”

“What?” asks Three in a voice like crunching gravel.

“I’ve never seen a happy and smiling dark priest. I think we need you to… you know… scowl like this.”

Three tries.

”Now you just look constipated,” comments Scream.

Three tries again. It’s not better. Is there an expression for an adorable elderly dwarf scrunching his face? A scrunched face that would yell ‘Get on my lawn, foals, I got candy!’ without the obvious molestation subtext?

”Try to imagine you’re facing the guy who poisoned boss bug but you can’t say anything because- theeeere you go,” Scream winks sideways at Six when Three’s expression finally matches his disguise.

Only short few moments later, two scowling dark priests leave the tunnel network, and enter a giant cavern resembling Brauheim castle square on smaller scale with a metal bridge crossing a ravine between them and a structure which has to be the dark priest enclave.

Despite their hearts jackhammering, neither Six nor Three move a facial muscle when two dwarves bulging with black armor covering their entire bodies stop them.

One of the dark guards says something which sounds like the clearing of a particularly stuck throat. It either isn’t dwarvish, or their helmets are muffling their words to incoherence.

”Scream?” Six asks mentally as time slows down.

”He wants to know the password,” says the alicorn, ”They’re speaking some garbled hybrid of Silversmith and dwarvish. I can barely understand them. Taking into account their language and religious fanaticism, I’m getting the feeling they might be retarded.”

”Damn it!” curses Six, ”Any ideas?”

”Run?” Scream raises an eyebrow, ”I doubt any feat of speed aside from falling down a cliff is their forte.”

”I’m not leaving without a unique diamond for Five!” Six frowns.

”How about being thrown out in pieces?”

Three loudly clears his throat. Not inside the hive mind, but in reality. The guards grumble something again.

“Hueaarhghhrhgh!” Three does the same thing, only louder.

The guards take a step back, both grunting at the same time.

“HURGK!” Three spits on the floor.

The guards take their place by the side of a tall double door made of white metal which slides into the wall. Undisturbed, Six and Three walk into a sterile, steel-looking, metal corridor inside with occasional barred windows on the sides and a dark priest passing in the distance.

”What did- how did you-?” Six shakes his head.

”Those helmets looked like you couldn’t hear much in them, and their language is really growly, so I tried to grumble the word they said for a password to set up I had a weird accent, then a dwarven word for ‘is’ IN the same accent, and then I just cleared my throat.”

”I don’t know if the dwarves are mentally challenged or you are a genius, but this certainly is a point for the former,” Scream facehoofs.

”No, that actually IS genius!” Six exclaims while his dark priest face remains passive, ”Just like the dwarves in Brauheim who have lived for so long with dark priests in charge that they can’t often even imagine defying one, the dark priests are so secluded and full of themselves they can barely imagine a normal dwarf coming here, especially if the common knowledge is that they simply don’t know where their enclave is. A dwarf would never talk back to a dark priest, and Three must have said something similar enough to the password. If their changeling alarm hasn’t gone off, they must have felt safe enough or lazy enough not to push us. Possibly there’s a punishment for a guard for hindering a dark priest doing their job?”

”Not important,” Scream interrupts Six’s musing, ”We’re inside, so what now?”

”Mister Granite said to look for a crafting sector,” says Three.

”That way then,” Scream nods ahead, ”Third corridor to the right.”

”Where did you read that?” asks Six while following Scream through the enclave, ”There’s nothing written on the walls here.”

”There is, only it’s invisible to normal eyes - hair thin carvings all over white walls filled with infrared dye. My best guess is that since this was originally a prison, the builders didn’t want prisoners to simply see the knowledge on the walls. Though it looks like they just shoved some fantasy literature-” Scream goes silent.

”Miss Scream?” Three looks at the alicorn.

”Hmmmm...” the alicorn frowns, then distractedly mumbles, ”That way to arts and crafts,” while pointing to the next corridor to the left and not stopping to read the wall, ”fifth to seventh door right. I’ll be right there, I just...” she sits down, staring at the lower part of the corridor.

”Let’s go,” Six physically nudges Three, ”Two dark priests staring at a ‘blank’ wall are sure to draw attention.”

No one bothers them as they enter what Screams identifies as the central hub of the enclave - a multi-story oval area hosting an indoor park. On the sides there are corridors leading further into the depths of the enclave. The upper floors, however, as far as they can see are filled with small doors, possibly to personal rooms?

Following Scream’s instructions, the two end up in a spacious workshop with workbenches by the walls and box-like machines scattered all over the place. Three immediately recognizes the multiple mechanical arms of the diamond cutter thingy from mister Granite’s description, and walks over, pointing at it while clearing his throat. There are two other dark priests in the workshop, each seemingly busy at his workbench.

Allowing himself a un-dark priestly smile, Five triumphantly takes out the big diamond, and puts it into the indentation in the middle of the top part of the machine’s chassis.

Nothing happens.

”Aaany idea what to do next?” Six pokes the machine.

Scream walks around, then points at a square panel with glassy, black center.

”Try touching it,” she says.

As soon as Six pokes it, the panel lights up with various multicolored squares covered in writing. He barely stifles a surprised squeak upon which one of the dark priests looks up from his workbench. Three, keeping an eye on the others, nods his way, the dwarf returns the gesture, and keeps working.

”Are these… like buttons?” Six furrows his bushy dwarven brows, ”But they aren’t real. They’re just made of floating light. How does this work?” he pokes one at random, and the entire screen changes into a similar yet different image.

”Beats me,” Scream shrugs, ”I’m more the magic kind of alicorn, technomagic at best. This is technology beyond everything even the griffons have. On the other hoof, we don’t need to know why it works to operate it… maybe. Touch the red square on the bottom right. The runes on it read ‘return’.”

As soon as Six does it, the original screen returns as advertised.

”Good, we’re back. What now?” asks Six, clearly eager. Scream doesn’t look so excited, though.

”I… am not sure...”

”Can’t you read it?”

”I can READ it. That doesn’t mean it makes sense to me. For example, the top ‘button’ on the list reads ‘load custom procedure’. I can read the descriptions just fine, I just have no clue what’s going to happen when you touch them.”

”Alright, alright, the smart pony is stumped,” Six mumbles, ”Time for dummies!” and he pokes the first floating button made of light. The arms of the device buzz, move around the indentation, and then stop.

”No procedure found,” Scream reads the writing on a suddenly appearing big red floater, ”Yeah, you’re missing something- ahhh, this could work!” she points to another smaller button, one of two under the… error message? ”Switch to manual.”

”That might work,” Six beams, quickly realizes what he’s doing, and resumes his dark priestly scowling, ”And it’ll be even better if I cut it myself,” he touches the pointed out button. A weird two concentric circles made of many more buttons appears, and the device’s arms twitch when Six touches one. He pokes the screen multiple times, but the arms always just twitch.

”Scream, any ideas what the controls ARE?”

”The stuff written on the segments of the circle are numbers. I would assume the big circle corresponds to the amount of arms, but what the small one is for is beyond me. Try...” Scream hums, ”Try not just poking one arm control, but hold it and move it around.”

Three’s eyes go wide when Six does as instructed, and the required arm moves along with him sliding his hoof on the screen.

”Holy moly! I wish I had that many legs. I could hug...” Three counts under his breath, ”two and a half times harder than now! Is that right, miss Scream?”

”No, there’s twelve arms, so three times as much.”

”Awww, I just wanted to show I knew fractions to look smarter.”

”Maybe next time,” Scream shrugs, then looks at the device the arms of which move around quickly as Six is getting the hang of the controls.

”Hmmm, what does this do?” impatient, Six tries more buttons, and the window turns to complete mess of lines and the picture of the rough diamond overlaid over the control circles, ”Grrrrr… I don’t understand any of this!”

”Thaaaat makes two of us...” Scream is watching the screen now with a raised eyebrow, ”The writing on the top means ‘preview’, but that’s all I know. Maybe it shows how the diamond will look after you cut it like this?”

”Alright, let’s give it a shot then. If I’m right, this should only shave the diamond a little bit,” Six presses the return button, and then the big one Scream translates as ‘Start’.

The tips of the arms glow red for a moment, a beam of crimson shoots out at the gem, and…

...nothing happens. The diamond remains untouched, and the screen returns to the one with controls.

”Oh, this might be the problem,” Scream looks closer, ”You’ve got the power set to thirty out of a hundred. Maybe it’s too little for a diamond.”

Two careful attempts later, Six frowns, and pulls the power bar all the way to the right, aligns the arms so that the light coming from them hits the gem at the same spot, and says:

”Okay, this SHOULD shave the diamond on one side, or if it doesn’t we know this machine can’t do it.”

Then he pushes the button.

Twelve red beams hit the gem. For a moment, not much seems to be happening until-

*Tink!*

With a sound of a shattering window, the diamond explodes into shards which scatter all over the workshop. The sharp burst of shrapnel leaves both Six and Three on the floor, bleeding.

The two dark priests jump up from their own projects, and immediately rush over.

”Are you okay?” Scream translates the words of the first one. Three waves his hoof, and uses the dark priest to stand up.

“Oh no… no… no no no...” mumbles Six out loud, ignoring the blood from his numerous cuts, and crawling on the floor to scoop the diamond shards.

As Three wipes his face, the dark priests notice Six’s muttering in common dwarvish. They stand up, and-

“INDERZEN!”

A siren starts blaring.

”Ooooh crap, that means ‘Intruder’,” Scream quickly turns her head from side to side, ”If I were you, I’d think of a way to knock or kill these two, and get the hay out immediately.”

“Five’s diamond...” Six completely ignores Scream, now openly crying.

To everyone’s surprise and some muttered prayers by Scream, the dark priests rush off without any questions.

”Six, come on,” Three grabs the other drone’s shoulder, and shakes him.

“But Five’s diamond...”

”Look, idiot,” Scream raises her voice, ”I don’t know which dumbass told you you can BUY love. You can buy shittons of lust, that I agree with, but I doubt that’s what you want, considering slave bug offered you a free ride and you refused. I went along with this because it was fun and because I can’t just float around without you nearby, and this place is more interesting than most of the surface.”

”I wanted to show her how much I loved her with this!” Six cries, shoving more and more shards into the pockets of his robe.

”Hug bug, can you sense any other changeling around?”

”No, miss Scream,” replies Three after a moment of focusing.

”Then they either don’t know where you are or who the intruder is, or… or the alarm isn’t going off because of you. Strangely enough, I don’t like any of those options. Diamond’s gone, so slap sad bug and LET’S GO!”

Scream rolls her eyes as Three instead of punching some sense into Six helps him gather the diamond shards. When it’s done, Six still looks dejected, but apparently ready to leave.

”Fucking finally,” Scream looks out of the room, ”Dwarves rushing everywhere. Got any idea how to get out in case the entrance is sealed?”

”T-The air vents?” Six offers, wiping his eyes. The dwarves running around don’t pay much attention to him and Three despite the barely healed wounds.

”I haven’t seen any,” Three shakes his head, ”The air is coming from these tiny slits in the ceiling. We can’t get through those.”

”The main entrance it is then,” Scream’s tone grows unusually serious, ”Let’s hope whoever the intruder is is keeping the security busy.”

No one really pays the two fake dark priests any attention until they reach the central hub of the enclave, and a gruesome sight greets them.

Dozens of corpses in shredded power armors are strewn around. The beautiful park which was still green less than half an hour ago is now on fire, trees are broken or charred, and bullet holes cover most decorative masonry. Despite the already bloody hell, the massacre isn’t over as more dark guards and dark priests are shooting, attacking, or throwing stuff at a seemingly untouched solitary figure much taller than they are.

”Is that a pony?” asks Three while peeking out of the corridor.

”Not anymore...” says Scream bitterly, ”The divine power he… it had to harness to survive what the dwarves threw at it must have eradicated whatever little equinity still remained in the Vigil.”

”Wait, Vigil?” Three furrows his brows, ”Is this the guy who hurt miss Eight?”

”Yep,” the alicorn nods, ”and the good part is that it’s not looking your way, so haul ass, both of you.”

Holding their breath and hugging the wall, which amidst the pained screaming and gunfire seems unnecessary, the two circle around the back of the Vigil towards the corridor leading to the main entrance.

As they’re about halfway through, The Vigil raises his hind leg while casually biting through the neck plate of a melee guard’s power armor. The hind leg transforms into a rapidly shooting out tentacle which wraps around Six’s barrel.

“EEEP!” the drone squeaks, and green fire bursts out him, leaving the robe in the Vigil’s vastly extended grasp while the now smaller changeling slips out of the tentacle and gallops forward.

Three doesn’t wait for anything, drops all pretense of sneaking, and follows Six. At least until a stray beam of light hits him, cutting cleanly through his robe, and leaving a burning hole in his leg.

“Owowowowowow!” Three stumbles, but Six, hearing his yelp, jumps to his side to steady him while he shapeshifts back into a changeling as well.

Thanking their luck, they finally get into the main corridor where Three pulls out his gift dwarf king helmet and puts it on.

”Much better.”

”We’re almost out. Let’s go, let’s go!” hope grows within Six, which dies immediately when he turns his head and notices Three hasn’t moved, ”Come oooooooon!”

”Six, this guy nearly killed miss Eight. Shouldn’t we try to find out what he wants?”

”NO! That’s even MORE of a reason to get the hole out,” objects Six.

Scream shakes her head.

“I agree with hug bug on this. The Vigil must have a reason for being here, and I have no idea what it is. As risky as it’s going to be, this could be a threat to everyone, and it needs to be stopped or at least identified.”

Six glares at Scream.

“Look, I don’t know who you really are, but you know a lot already. We’re just DRONES! We can’t turn invisible, we can’t fight, we can’t even flee as fast if everything goes crotchtits up. We need to know SOMETHING before we can help.”

Scream growls, sighs, facehoofs, then rolls her eyes, and in the end slumps her shoulders in defeat.

“I will explain things later when at least punch bug is capable of breathing without machines. This way I’d just have to repeat myself. I SWEAR. Geez, I never thought I’d say something like that. Right now, though, we have a chance to discover something that might save the world, so PLEASE- uurgh… another bad word… go follow that guy.”

”You can go, if you want, Six,” says Three, smiling, ”Someone up in the city will want to hear this anyway. I believe miss Scream that this is important, and that we need to know as much as we can or it will be worse later.”

Six looks deeper into the corridor, then closes his eyes and turns around.

”You said it yourself, we drones stick together.”

They carefully sneak back out in the open where the dwarf resistance is waning, mostly because of the piles of corpses and limbs surrounding the solitary Vigil. The big equine is now holding a dark priest in his tentacle foreleg, the tip of which crawls into the dwarf’s mouth, and after some violent spasming he stops moving completely, blood flowing from the dwarf’s ears, eyes, and mouth.

”The Vigils have sort of a hive mind, but not like yours. They are more limbs of a higher entity rather than connected individuals,” Scream clicks her teeth, ”I think he’s transforming the dwarf into a part of himself to find something. Something he knows maybe...”

”So… the hive mind is EXACTLY like ours,” comments Six, earning an annoyed stare from the alicorn, ”Wait… you mean another hive mind?”

”Not exactly, as I said-”

”Like endless depth, and something is looking from it at me, trying to suck me in?” Six shivers.

”I’m not an expert on mental issues,” Scream shrugs.

”I think I know what that Vigil thing guy wants,” says Six. Both Scream and Three look at him.

An earth-shattering kaboom followed by a wave of heat interrupts Six, eradicating all greenery in the park, and bathing the place in blue flames.

”What now?” Scream groans. Her eyes go wide when she spots the Vigil silently rolling on the floor, trying to douse the strange chemical fire which consumes his flesh to the bone, ”Holy balls… did they actually kill it?”

Six and Three creep closer until the Vigil’s struggling stops. He lies there, motionless for few breaths, and then rises back on all fours, thin strands of flesh regrowing before the changelings’ eyes.

”Greeeeeeat, now he’s immune to whatever that almost successful bomb was,” Scream growls in frustration, ”STOP MAKING MY JOB HARDER, YOU IDIOTS!”

”EXPLAIN IMMEDIATELY!” yells Six.

”Didn’t I explain it already? If you don’t kill them outright, they adapt to almost anything and become immune to it. There still are limits, I suppose, but those are getting more blurry with each step their… boss takes towards our world.”

The Vigil, now fully recovered, starts walking forward into the complex.

”Looks like he got what he needed from the dwarf’s brain,” says Scream.

”He wants the door!” Six raises his voice, ”That IS on this level and somewhere around.”

”What door?”

”There’s this weird door made of bedrock with carvings that felt as if they were watching me.”

”Then we have to follow it- him- whatever!”

They aren’t sure if it’s luck or whether the Vigil is simply laughing at them quietly, but he leads them through the enclave with very little further resistance other than the occasional heroically stupid dark guard to a dead end. He touches few spots on the clean metal wall, leaving blood marks over it, and a hidden door slides open, revealing a bedrock corridor.

Keeping a distance they presume is safe-ish, they follow the Vigil through the secret tunnel which eventually joins a different, larger hall that Six recognizes with dread. A short trip later, the two completely silent changelings watch the Vigil approach Six’s massive bedrock doorway. The probably-not-a-pony examines the doorway, each wing of which must weigh a ton, and Scream runs towards it.

”Stay here. Run if he turns around,” she calls out. Even the Vigil is oblivious of her as she flies up to start reading the door from the top, ”They didn’t remember! They thought it was fucking clothes and morals!” she starts yelling out of nowhere, ”Corruption, transformation, PLAGUE. Those morons degraded so much they don’t even know how to read their own fucking language! They knew this would happen. They knew I would be there. They knew HOW I would stop it, but… but I don’t...” Scream goes silent as the gigantic door starts opening outside.

Scream’s annoyed expression doesn’t change when she has to fly around to read one wing and then the other as the Vigil’s hook-like tentacled forelegs open the gate enough for him to pass, revealing a rather simple hexagonal room the lights of which turn on when the Vigil steps inside.

To the changelings’ surprise, Scream seems to care much more about the door than what it leads to. Their mission, however, is not to satisfy the alicorn’s curiosity, but to find out what the impossibly powerful enemy’s goal is.

Now hiding behind the gate cracked open, the drones peek inside the small room. It’s surgically clean, much like the corridors of the dark priest enclave, and opposite the gate is a two ponies tall, hexagonal door made of white metal, on the side of which are two scowling metal statues which look like mechanical ponies.

A smaller version of the statues, however, is standing in the center of the room, looking the Vigil from eye to red, gleaming, crystal eye.

“So the day has come,” says the metal pony in a very understandable version of common ponish.

The Vigil walks past him, and slams his forelegs against the seal with no effect.

“How do I open it?” he turns towards the metal pony after two more attempts fail to dent or even scratch the seal.

“You stand against everything we fought and died for,” the metal pony glares at the Vigil, “You gave up your equinity for a promise of power, yet you do not understand what such power brings. You are less than a servant, you are only a tool. One like you will never open the seal.”

The Vigil roars, grabs the machine pony, and repeatedly rams him into the seal so hard the fake pony ends up as scrap metal.

“True, you make for a poor battering ram, ‘tool’.”

Afterwards, his neck snaps towards the exit, and his tentacle forelegs shoot out quickly enough to dart past the door and grab Six and Three by the leg each.

The panically screaming and flailing drones try to shapeshift and get away, but the Vigil isn’t taken by surprise the second time, and he tosses them towards the seal.

“Open it.”

“Umm, well,” mutters Six, “We’ve never been here before, and we can’t even read the door and all the stuff, so we’re not really the best guys for the job-”

“You open it, or you die,” the Vigil assumes position between the drones and the exit.

”Technically, that’s still better than what’s going to happen if the Vigils succeed,” Scream flies inside with a thoughtful expression, finally done with her reading.

Six tries his luck in rushing past the Vigil, and receives a blow which sends him against the wall so hard his skull cracks. Three jumps towards him, cradling the dizzy drone. Six groans, but Three’s presence is helping his fast recovery.

”Miss Scream, got anything?” asks Three.

”About how you two can get out of this?” the alicorn shakes her head, ”No idea, and while I’m not sure what exactly is behind this seal, letting it out is worse than you two dying. Hug bug, if your soul is still strong enough to last a while after he kills you, I’ll ask Void to toss you my way as a massager.”

She leans to a plaque on the seal, and reads aloud.

”We, the eternal watchers, will stand guard against the living end,” Scream pats the left statue with her hoof, ”The living end is here, buds, and I wish I had at least few of you alive to help.”

Six crumbles on the floor, sobbing.

“I won’t get to see Five anymore...”

Three flies up to boop the right scowling statue’s nose.

“I know you don’t talk like the one shiny pony which the bad guy broke, but cheer up a bit. Even if something bad happens to us, the nasty guy can’t go past you which is the most important thing,” he hugs the statue’s neck.

The heads of both statues turn towards Three, and proclaim:

“Purest of purpose, we greet you. If you are here, then you must have found a way to finish what we couldn’t. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts, even if the surface will never know of your deeds. Good luck.”

“Whuh?” Three buzzes off as the hexagonal seal starts to open, revealing layer after layer of the same strange white metal, accompanied by the Vigil’s maniacal laughter.

Standing by the bedrock door, Scream facehoofs.

”I’m pretty sure that in the future we’ll be able to point at this moment with our tentacles and say - yes, this is where it all went to complete shit. Though I had no idea Silversmiths had tech able to measure emotions.”

Soon, the segments of the seal slide back into the wall, revealing another hallway of pitch darkness. The Vigil ignores the drones, and walks inside.

”Do we… leave?” asks Six.

”The fuck do YOU think?!” barks Scream, ”We’re done with the research, GO!”

”No more following the bad guy?” asks Three.

A long, lanky, spider-like foreleg approaching from the blackness of the previously sealed tunnel reaches out, tapping against the floor.

”Nevermind!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” the drones start galloping as more shapes of ponies crossed with spiders crawl on the walls and the ceiling with jerky movements.

Unfortunately for the screaming duo, they completely miss the furious thumping from ahead.

”Ahhh, finally,” Scream takes a breath of relief, ”The B team arrived.”

Six and Three only see a flash, but for them it’s enough as Six jumps up, all four of his legs clamping around incoming Five’s neck and chest. Three isn’t as lucky, and flops on the ground when Two dodges out of the way.

“Scream briefed us on the way,” says Two.

“What eldritch abomination is this?” Five stops trying to shake Six off when she sees the first long legs appear in the crack of the open main gate. Only now, Six notices that Five’s right foreleg is unusually thick. Further examination reveals that it’s not only a foreleg at all, but a black tube leading to a pack tied to Five’s barrel. Five aims what has to be some sort of a gun at the door, and flicks her hoof, “Well, nevermind. Bye!”

The launched hoof-sized ball disappears between the wings of the partially open gate. The lanky legs follow it, and then the ground shakes. Six hops off of Five.

“What?”

The legs return, this time followed by a half-melted pony head with black, bulging worm-like tentacles coming from its mouth and eyes. It looks at the changelings.

”LEG IT!” yells Scream.

“No,” orders Two, “Five, we’re closing this.”

Without a chance to disobey, nor any desire to do so, Five charges towards the big gate, and uses a trick she learned from Three.

Two’s already between the wings, gathering magic in her hooves. The long legs grab her from the air, making her grin.

“Your expiration date arrived.”

The only partially solid head of the creature starts puking on Two from the mouth, covering the changeling in goo and worms. Two doesn’t stop grinning as she shoves the unstable ball of magical plasma through the crack between the gate wings.

In that second, extremely heavy projectile known as Five hits one wing of the gate closing it shut and shoving the strange creature back as its legs break off. Five doesn’t wait for anything, and with a strength enhancement, she closes the gate completely.

It shakes again when Two’s unstable magic ignites behind it.

Speaking of the changeling, she coughs up some black goo and sweeps the worms crawling over her.

Others scream and back away from her.

“Two?” only Three’s boundless love is strong enough to face the horror as parts of Two’s chitin liquify and tentacles sprout from them.

“ThReE?” Two jumps on all fours, “WhAt’S wRoNg?” she clamps her foreleg over her mouth, and a tentacle replacing her tongue darts at Three through a hole in her leg, “Hurk-” she throws up worms.

”Damn...” Scream breathes out.

“Two?” Three reaches out to Two who touches his hoof with hers which transforms into another tentacle which she retracts.

*Thud!*

Two turns her head hundred and eighty degrees without any seeming discomfort as the beating on the closed gate from inside begins.

“FiVe, gEt ThEm aWaY!” Two growls, corners of her mouth ripping up to her ears and displaying more rows of teeth than any living creature needs or should have, “tHat’S aN orDEr!”

Five resists for a second, then nods, grabs Six, and shoves him on her back.

“Three, don’t make me grow a fifth leg to grab you too.”

“gO aND TelL mY… mOm,” black tears drip from Two’s eyes, mixing with the drool from her mouth, “...I sCreWed aLl oF YoU. I tOld tHe zEbrA evErYtHinG, AnD noW thIS. DaD is dEaD, anD I beTRayEd… bOth... MoMs… just run...” she ends in a whisper.

-LONELINESS-

As all Two’s mental links cut off, Five grabs Three’s neck in her mouth, and bolts.

Two momentarily suppresses the new boiling chaos inside her head and a looming mental presence vastly more powerful than she is as she hatches a plan. She might be stupid, but she won’t be a threat to others.

***

Granite, Steelback, and Iron Rose are sitting in the council room, the minotaur and the loremaster busy with finishing touches on the new mining and trade treaties. Iron Rose herself is just clearing her hooves with a sharp axe while reading the newspaper.

“I’m not too keen on the amount of already forged steel,” Granite frowns, “It takes way too much time and effort, but we’re low on chemical fertilizers, so if you could mediate getting those from somewhere, I won’t veto this one.”

Steelback rubs his chin.

“Zebras make the best kinds, and those are expensive as he-”

The door creaks open, letting in the noise of worried dwarves and one set of limping hoofsteps.

Granite immediately shoots up from his chair.

“KING?!”

The changeling king stumbles into the room, immediately steadied by a guard rushing in behind him. His chitin is grey and flaking off, white veins and cracks criss-crossing it from hooves to head. There are holes in his legs like Granite recalls from other changelings including the queen, but the short blue mane now looking like strands of carpet hair and the blue eyes with black circles underneath are doubtlessly his.

“Granite...” he croaks, “...the prophecy… darkness… from the depths… is coming...”

Everyone’s hair stands on edge.

“What? What do you mean?”

“...dark priest… prophecy… creatures… released… my changelings… fleeing… Two… gone… swarming… the enclave… everyone dead...”

The guards who hear it pale under their helmets.

“Close the flooding seals!” orders Granite. In response, three guards rush off immediately, “Post groups of guards at each air vent. Report every fifteen minutes. Spiderweb pattern of patrols through the city,” he puts the king’s foreleg over his shoulder to steady the much bigger changeling, “And we need to get you back to your room. I have no idea how you’re still alive despite the brass spike poison, but I’ll be damned if I let you warning us finish you off.”

When everyone leaves, Iron Rose picks up a hidden radio.

“Patrol ten, do you read me?”

The radio beeps, and a voice answers:

[Aye, big momma. Loud and clear]

“Remember the explosives we planted for Plan Two Cities?”

[Aye. What’s going on?]

“I’ll explain later. I need you to collapse the tunnels leading to the old istrium mining sites and dark priest enclave.”

[Ten minutes.]

The radio beeps again.

“Let’s see whatever the fanatics released deal with flooding seals AND a series of cave ins,” she stands up and cracks her neck.

Much further outside, Granite waves the rather surprised guards standing by the king’s room aside. As they enter, he leads the king to the bedroom of the suite, and…

...spots the king catatonic on the bed.

“Wha-” he doesn’t even finish turning his head before his world shuts down.

***

With Six on her back, Five gallops through the entrance to the now mostly empty dark priest enclave. She’s going as fast as she can without losing Three, which is a heavy limiting factor, but carrying both drones would be slower. The bedrock hallways of Silversmith origin containing knowledge which the rest of the world would consider a treasure to go into war over mean nothing to any of the changelings.

They finally reach a dwarven tunnel when-

-an explosion shakes everything so hard that Five trips, sending Six flying ahead. Three, using his wings as well as his legs, avoids tripping and flies past.

Five isn’t so lucky, because as soon as she stands up, her body jerks back down again, accompanied by a cloud of dust. It’s suddenly too hard to breathe for some reason.

“FIVE!” screams Six when the rumbling stops, and rushes to her.

She tries to say something, but there’s no breath to say it with.

”...what… happened...?” she switches to her mental voice which is depressingly weak as well.

“It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay...” Six keeps mumbling, touching Five’s shoulders without daring to apply any force.

“Okay, we can do this, Six,” says Three with panic in his voice. He sits down, and a stream of love envelops Five.

It’s not enough, as if it was filling an endless well. Five closes her eyes, and uses a little power to look at herself from Three’s eyes. The ‘hug bug’, as Scream called him much to Five’s amusement, is easier to get into, because he’s calmer than Six, although not by much.

Half of her is sticking from under a cave in which quite clearly crushed everything from her midsection down.

“We can do this, Six,” says Three after taking a deep breath, “Miss Eight survived from way worse, and we have enough love for Five too. We just need to get her back to the castle-”

More rumbling interrupts Three, and with the blaring of sirens, something like a huge metal door starts descending in the distant part of the tunnel.

”...go…!” orders Five, but the drones don’t move.

“Three, you’re the love guy here. You kept Eight alive all by yourself.”

“Mostly, but Five isn’t as tough, I can feel it. I can’t make myself strong and fast enough AND keep her alive.”

Six sighs, grabs Five’s forelegs, and pulls. Five gurgles and foams as her insides spill out of her belly.

“All this time I didn’t know what to give you to show you how much I loved you,” Six puts his short horn to hers, “But the answer was right here all the time. Love, just all my love.”

Five’s suddenly revitalized head clears as Six collapses in front of her, an empty husk in the span of two seconds. Three, now slightly bigger, slings Five over his back, and bolts forward towards the half-closed floodgate. With green trail behind him, he shoves Five under it first, then quickly shapeshifts into a hoof-sized changeling to run through as well just as the thick, watertight gate seals the tunnel off. Changing back and hoping Five has enough strength to make it until Three can focus on just transfering love, he gallops back to Brauheim.

For Five, everything grows dark as she’s jiggled and even the crazy amount of adrenaline can’t stop her from feeling sharp spikes of pain all over. Thankfully, that’s what is keeping her from passing out.

At least for a while.

Three only grits his teeth when he feels Five go completely limp, Six’s crystallized rose stuck fast in Five’s leg hole.

“Gotta go faster, Three and a lot of numbers afterwards!” he mumbles to himself between ragged breaths, “Boss will be so mad if everyone isn’t in top shape when he wakes up.”

***

Two limps ahead through the dark tunnels, feeling heavier and heavier. She deliberately took a different route from the one through which the others would be fleeing. The second presence inside her head is gone, but she’s too scared to look down at herself to see what she’s become. The fact that her left foreleg is now a knot of three thick tentacles which she has to unstick from the floor after each step with a wet slurp is just enough for her sanity already fighting foreign compulsions and growing hunger.

Time passes as she plods on. Minutes, maybe hours?

At some point, she heard a massive rumble from way behind and the whole world trembled, but that was secondary to her final mission. She got Three and Six out, and because she made a mistake doing it, she was like this now. The hive already has a better infiltrator, and Five is good at gathering love no matter what she says, Two has seen to that with her instructions and a small experience bundle inside the hive mind.

Now, as she finally reaches the grand bridge, the second place where she remembers being close to a magma stream, and the only place which won’t allow her to chicken out.

She opens her mouth to a degree which would allow her to swallow Three or Six whole, and her neck lets out squelching crunches when she turns it one-eighty degrees, bites down on the base of her wing, and rips it off.

She barely feels it, and the ease with which the translucent wing came off shows how much physically stronger she is due to the forced transformation. However, whatever the new instincts or force inside her are, they gets the idea what Two wants to do, and her legs give out, making the definitely not changeling anymore keel over into a pile of goo and worms.

Ignoring that, Two tears her other wing off.

“One last thing… just this one… last… thing...” Two gurgles. It takes all her willpower to shapeshift her left foreleg into something she can control, and the old foreleg with new claws starts dragging her towards the edge of the bridge. A small part of her scared but determined mind can’t let go of the hope that someone smart will come just in time to save her...

But no one will. It was her job to save someone, and she did it. She did what little she could for the hive, and it felt good. Five was right all along.

With a soft smile completely alien on the monstrous abomination which used to be Two, what little mentally remains from the changeling pulls herself over the edge, and drops. At first, there’s only darkness and wind whistling in her ears, but then an orange glow of flowing magma deep under her starts growing stronger and nearer.

Is that a block of ice buried in a tiny island of cooled lava in the middle of a magma stream?

“...bye… dad...”

26: Seven minus Three equals what?

View Online

Eight’s ears twitch when the dwarven queen’s long untouched bookshelf slides to the side and reveals a hidden door which opens into a secret tunnel. She opens her eyes, and with an ungodly sick crunch her neck snaps back into normal shape, but that’s pretty much the extent of her allowed activity. Her secondary armor plating around her belly is still gone, although so is the hole in her chest. Fifty-fifty on the good and bad, then.

Eeeeh, more like twenty-eighty, she corrects herself when she realizes she’s still missing all her legs. This does feel like a grand idea to try at some point with someone, though - fleshlight Eight. She shivers. A dwarf comes into view, someone whom Eight has never seen before, and she just sighs, all sexy thoughts disappearing. This stupid castle is like swiss cheese, seriously. The dwarven digging habit was cute at first, but considering how much trouble the secret passages have brought, she’s reconsidering it to be a mental disorder.

“Well, well, well...” the dwarf growls and pulls out a dagger, “how the tables have turned...”

The very faint, even to a changeling’s nose, but unmistakable scent of brass spike poison on the dagger’s blade makes Eight narrow her eyes. However, that’s not the main thing in the room. There’s something else which doesn’t smell like anything in particular, Eight just knows it’s there. She tries to say something withering to the obvious assassin, but her throat betrays her as she only croaks:

“...who…?”

“A cripple who can’t even speak,” the dwarf chuckles, “Still not a fitting end for a murderer!”

Eight bares her fangs.

”Anyone awake?” she tries to call for help via the hive mind, but hits a mental wall far beyond her power and skill.

“...you’ll have to… be more… specific… than that… heh...”

The dwarf’s eye twitches as he snarls.

“You might be more familiar with my mother, monster.”

Ah, so he’s the old queen’s son. Confused, Eight realizes she killed so few dwarves that he’s easy to identify now that she thinks about it. That doesn’t sound like her. Maybe the boss’ diplomatic approach DID leave a mark after all.

“...riiight… she couldn’t… swim… for shit...” Eight chuckles. It’s weird how much freedom being helpless while not actually giving a damn about staying alive grants you, “...but that might have been… just the… magma...”

The growling dwarf looks like he’s about to stab her right that instant, but he doesn’t. To Eight’s surprise, his mouth curls into an evil grin.

“All bark and no bite, obviously,” he says, “I’ll enjoy cutting you slowly so that you can feel the poison at work. I would say I’d start with the legs, but you can’t have everything in life. And don’t worry, this is personal. I have nothing against you changelings, unlike the dark priests who gave me this,” he carefully swings the dagger in his mouth, “It just took months before I could get into a position to finally avenge my mother. To be completely honest, I’m more than alright with the direction in which the king is taking Brauheim, especially when he fixed the evil you caused.”

“...stop… monologuing at me...” Eight rolls her eyes, “...it hurts more… than the poison will...”

Aaand here’s eye twitch number two followed by a forehead vein pop number one.

“We’ll see about that!” the queen’s son’s muscles strain…

...but he doesn’t move an inch, “What did you do?!”

“She didn’t do anything,” the air in the corner shifts as light suddenly reflects in a strange way off of something which with only the faintest glimmer of green turns from completely invisible into a curvy zebra mare giving the dwarf a gentle and soft smile. With a sway of her wide hips, and her only slightly chubby underbelly which the dwarf has a clear view of, the zebra approaches him, and looks the paralyzed dwarf in the eyes. He can’t say what color those are, because it keeps shifting, the strange phenomenon drawing his attention further and further away from his body. Not losing her friendly smile for a moment, she keeps talking in a soothing voice, “Now, you are a smart and a patient dwarf, which is the kind that your city needs the most. What use would revenge be? Would angering the changelings serve your home in any way?”

The dwarf tries to look down, half in resistance and half in shame, but she puts a hoof under his chin. He’s gritting his teeth, and there are faint signs of tears in his eyes.

“But… my mother...” he whispers, “She killed her...”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that hatred only breeds more hatred,” says the zebra, “And while love can’t stop the world from hurting you, it can stop you from hurting yourself,” she nuzzles the smaller dwarf’s nose with her own, not letting him look away, “Give me the knife. I know a better use for it.”

He spits the handle of the dagger from his mouth into his hoof, and presents it to the zebra who grabs it.

“Thank you,” she says, warm as always, “Now leave, and forget your hate. Working hard for revenge will only eat you inside. Work hard for your city instead. You can be a shining beacon for your friends rather than a martyr. That’s a way more worthwhile goal.”

The dwarf hangs his head low, his eyes wet, and nods. Without another word, he leaves via the secret entrance not to alert the guards outside.

Eight, eyes wide and unsure what has just happened, stares at the zebra. After stowing the dagger away in a backpack previously under Eight’s bed, the zebra picks it up, and strokes Eight’s head.

“Sleep,” she says, and Eight feels a pressure put against her mind. It’s not exceedingly powerful, but it doesn’t take no for an answer. It reminds Eight of One, but One is dead, and she was always more forceful. This power is… calming, which makes it much more dangerous in its essence. It makes her not want to resist and-

The zebra takes her hoof off of now sleeping Eight’s head.

“Have a nice rest, mom. I’ll go check up on dad.”

After putting the backpack on her back, the zebra turns invisible again, and taps the mirror on the wall three times which makes a different section of a wall slide away. Shortly after, there’s no trace of anything ever happening in the queen’s suite. The castle is full of the damn things, obviously, but the secret route used by the zebra at least makes sense.

A quick trip through the tunnel later, the wall of the king’s suite opens, letting cold air and a floating military-tier bag into the bathroom. The invisible zebra puts the backpack down into the bathtub, and peeks into the suite to see if there’s anyone visiting the king. Seeing no one in the immediate vicinity, she steps into the bedroom, and-

*THUD!*

-something incredibly strong clamps around her chest and neck in four places, followed by an almost constant stream of words and slobber.

“ImissedyouImissedyouImissedyousomuch-”

Seeing no reason to stay invisible and quickly tearing up herself, the zebra closes her eyes.

“-bosssaidyouwerealivethatthenicepaladinponytookyouwithhimanddidn’thurtyouatall-”

A green spark runs through her coat from mane to hooves, making the white coat with black stripes disappear and replacing it with black changeling chitin decorated with grey streaks similar to zebra pattern.

“-andyou’resobigandawesomenowandIlookthesamebutI’mhappytoseeyouagainbut-”

Aaaand now the previously floating Three’s legs are clamped around a certainly very VERY female changeling of a similar shape which the zebra before was. The kind of changeling mare for whom the dong of even the most xenophobic pony would raise to attention and salute like a good soldier ready for deployment. Of course, the mare’s attractiveness is completely lost on Three whose snot and happy tears are now staining her neck.

Gem can’t help cracking a smile, sitting down, and returning the crushing hug although with much less bone and chitin breaking effect.

“I didn’t know if I could believe what I heard from Two,” she breathes out.

“-andlasttimeIsawyouyouwerallspindlybutthenIdiedbutIgotbetter- mmhm?” Three stops as Gem puts her hoof in his mouth, “And I’m part lamp now,” he finishes when Gem pulls her hoof away, and goes quiet.

“All in due time, Three. Right now, we need to help the boss if we can,” she winces when Three hops away and his warm love gives way to the burning agony she can physically feel from the boss.

“Can you heal him?” Three jumps up and down.

Gem frowns.

“I did what I could before,” she looks at the sickly grey and skinny changeling king lying motionlessly on the bed with his forelegs spastically clasped on his chest, “Lord Bright Star helped me by stabilizing a minor stasis spell into his paladin amulet which I used to slow the poison down. It’s clear that even changeling immune system can’t deal with whatever this poison is, but I didn’t dare take his blood or anything at first, and later it would break the already weakening magic.”

“Oh...” Three visibly withers, which makes Gem pat his head.

“It’s better and worse at the same time. The bad thing is that due to the time slowing spell, boss has been in this incredible pain for far longer than it was for us. However, few minutes ago a dwarf tried to assassinate miss Eight in the same way.”

“No!” Three looks about to cry, and this time not in happiness.

“Don’t worry, I stopped him before he could do anything, and I made him give me a knife with more of the poison boss is fighting against. If I can have some time alone, I’ve got some alchemy equipment which might help me better understand what we’re facing. I don’t know if my travelling gear would be enough for a proper analysis, but it can’t hurt to try.”

“Huh?” Three tilts his head, “Hey, Six told me the dwarves have super cool technology thingies. Maybe they can help!”

Gem furrows her brows.

“I’ve been scouting around in hiding for few days, trying to limit my exposure to the dwarves. The minotaurs said they don’t let outsiders in.”

“Oh, they don’t, but it turns out they like changelings because there were some around here a long time ago.”

Gem quickly checks Three’s unresisting mind, and finds this to be almost completely true. The dwarves like Three because he’s Three, and they really are alright with the rest of the changeling group. Using Three’s mind, she links up to all other changelings, and finds out to her dismay that Three’s the only one in any working shape. There’s one more changeling, the magic one she met with Two… Seven, was he? But he’s busy panicking right now, and he’s too far to be useful at the moment.

”I wish I could help somehow,” Three frowns, testing the renewed mental connection, ”I’ve been sleeping here whenever I wasn’t with miss Eight, trying to give my love to the boss, but he’s not taking anything. He just hurts...”

Gem nuzzles Three. She’s much bigger than she used to be when she last saw the drone, but all it does is make hugging Three easier.

“Boss is absorbing love, you just can’t sense it. You’re making so much of it that you just can’t even feel the difference. The problem is that he’s taking far too little, even less than his body would naturally absorb from you. You’ve been helping immensely if you’ve been spending your time here. Still… it’s clearly not enough. I can feel only a fraction of the agony he must be in, and it still makes being in the same room unpleasant. I always knew boss was far stronger than he showed, but this is resilience beyond belief.”

“Boss is- well, was a drone. We’re tough, Four.”

“Call me Gem, if you don’t mind. That’s the name under which everyone knows me now, and which miss One gave me.”

“How is miss One anyway?” asks Three, “Last time I heard about her, she was dead, but so was I and I got over it. Someone as awesome as miss One must be super alive now. There might even be two of her!”

“Heh heh,” Gem chuckles, “Cockroaches would be jealous about what we can get through. All in due time, though, Three. Right now, boss is fighting something against which willpower won’t be enough. If the dwarves can help me gather some proper chemistry equipment, I suppose I can finally reveal myself to them.”

“Yeah, they’re super nice. Come with me, but we gotta be quick, because I have to come back here to keep helping the boss,” Three beams, “So… there’s mister Granite, he’s like in charge along with few others. Then there’s Hard Reset, the head engineer of the power plant dist- destroy- distribu-shun spiderweb...” Three scratches his head, then shrugs, “Eeeeh, close enough. Oh, and then there’s miss Black Soil, she’s super pretty, not like you or auntie Battlecry, but-”

***

When the two reach the council meeting room, Gem has been briefed about the general state of affairs in Brauheim, although the knowledge that most dwarves are ‘super nice other than some bald, bearded ones in robes who hurt the boss so it is okay that they have all been eaten’ is rather confusing. She’d have to rummage directly through Three’s mind in more detail later. However, despite Three’s chaotic storytelling and her own worries about the overwhelming number of armed dwarves inside the castle, Gem has arrived ready to face Granite as well as somewhat fed and not just from Three. Turns out dwarves like what Gem did with her permanent body.

Granite is sitting alone at the large round table, reading some documents when the opening door makes him look up and raise an eyebrow.

“Hello, mister Granite!” Three waves at him and hops onto the table before pointing at the arriving changeling whom he’s never seen before. She certainly feels different than any of the others, and not only due to the black and grey chitin, “This is F- sorry, Gem, and she can help the boss, but she needs some labrador equipment.”

Granite blinks.

“Laboratory, mister Granite,” Gem gives Granite a courteous bow, “I’ve managed to get another poison sample from a dwarf who tried to kill miss Eight.”

“WHO TRIED WHAT?!” Granite slams his forelegs into the table.

“From what I understand, it was the son of the old queen, someone whom I suppose miss Eight replaced,” says Gem, undisturbed by the outburst, “Don’t worry. Everyone involved is alright, and it won’t happen again.”

The loremaster takes a deep breath.

“Three, can you vouch for this new changeling? I’m not eager to relax any security measures in these dark times.”

“Of course,” Three nods vigorously, “Four’s been with me, boss, and miss Eight the longest. We split for a while, but that’s okay because she’s here now and all adult.”

Once again. Three’s explanation is persuasive while revealing nothing concrete Granite could use to calm his nerves. The dwarf looks at Gem who clears her throat next.

“So you are mister Granite,” she scratches her head, “I believe an apology is in order then.”

“For what?” he raises his eyebrow.

“For knocking you out.”

“Huh?”

“Remember when the boss told you that something has been released deep underground?”

“Yeah, I closed the flooding seals afterw-” he trails off, looking past Gem, “THAT WAS YOU?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU CAUSED?”

Gem closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I got information about what was happening from Two. I tried to avoid going inside her head too much, because I didn’t know who else could be watching, so I had to rely on what she told me about the city. I also got into a changeling who calls himself Seven, but I didn’t have the opportunity to go for more than a quick glance into the current events, although he knew next to nothing. A very single-minded changeling if ever I saw one. I learned that the boss in charge was my dad way too late, and I got to him only after he’s been poisoned. With the help of my friends currently staying in Rift, I managed to bring a stabilized stasis spell to slow his poison,” she pulls out a sun-shaped amulet from her backpack, “This is an easily enchantable paladin tool which they use in case their horns get neutralized in some way. Thankfully, I sensed Three around, but from all I knew he was dead, so I couldn’t be sure if it was him or whether I’ve been tracked by another changeling who got inside my own mind and was using my memories against me,” she takes a short break, but stops Granite when he tries to speak with a raised foreleg, “I’m getting to it, don’t worry. While I was gathering more information about the state of affairs, I felt panic from Two, and I entered her mind just as she was… transforming into something. I couldn’t help her, so I at least drew as much information directly out of her as I could, which showed me what was happening down in the depths.”

“The black spindlies,” Three nods.

“Yes, those… things, whatever they are. Judging by how strong they were and how quickly they infested Two, I couldn’t let them spread into an inhabited area, so I transformed into the boss, and found you. You know the rest.”

Granite breathes in and out, his anger dwindling.

“Alright, alright. It was less your fault than Rose’s anyway.”

“Huh? What was?” asks Gem.

“Three? You didn’t tell her about Five and Six?”

“Oh...” Three sighs, “Well, as we were running away, the big metal gates started closing and a cave in dropped on us, crushing Five. Six gave her all his love so that she could survive being crushed for few moments before I could get her back here. I had to leave Six there.”

Granite frowns.

“Iron Rose used the bombs her associates planted while Brauheim was split in order to stop a potential war which she didn’t have to use before because the king did such a good job patching things up with the queen. Unfortunately, from what I understand, even if Six was asleep, there just isn’t enough air in the area Three described between the airtight seal and the cave in, and we don’t dare just open that specific floodgate in case the… spindlies somehow got through the rocks. I’m sorry. Six is… dead.”

To his mild surprise, Gem only pouts.

“Not necessarily. Changelings with no love go into hibernation. We barely need to breathe. How long has it been?”

“Just over three days.”

“Then I suppose we still have time, at least from the air perspective. Whether or not the black creatures somehow got to him is a different question. Considering how easily they infested Two. just some of their liquid would be enough to make Six one of them. However, let’s get back to the main issue - helping the boss.”

“Alright then, since Three is vouching for you and, IF you’re to be believed, the boss is still alive only because of you, I can arrange you a full access to our laboratories here in the castle. We can get you probably any further equipment you might want, just say the word. I’m not sure about materials, though. Minerals, sure, but biological materials are a little harder to get here underground.”

“Thank you,” Gem bows and smiles. Then she raises a hoof, and lets a single drop of spittle drip on its frog. Before Granite’s eyes, the green drop turns yellow, crystallizing into gold, “And don’t worry about materials, I can make my own. As it turns out, changelings make the best alchemists.”

***

Seven slams the library door behind him, and unceremoniously falls on the carpet.

“Ughh… I’ve never felt this… inadequate before,” with a grunt, he pushes himself back on all fours, “Oh holes...” he shoves a hoof into his mouth to stop himself from throwing up.

With a flick of his horn, several glowing balls appear in the air and spread around the library. It’s not as if Seven couldn’t just flip the light switch, but…

...but last night sucked. He’s been trying his best to fulfill the boss’ orders regarding gaining love and lust, but he was just too awkward and weird in his real form around others to be effective, so he had to often resort to mild suggestive magic followed by envenoming his target through kisses or biting. Unfortunately, it turned out that too much venom-fueled lust was making him sick to his stomach, and last night it culminated.

Thankfully, burning off some of the excess lust by using magic does alleviate some of his queasiness, and Seven proceeds to throw few weak fire cubes against the charred wall in his practice corner. Unfortunately, feeling physically better brings his mind back to the less pressing matter of him being a changeling barely capable of feeding himself.

He sighs.

“I wonder how the others are doing?” he mutters, realizing the hive mind has been awfully quiet for quite some time, although that might have had a lot to do with him trying to focus on not going full spaghetti in some mare’s company.

Alright, so…

Eight? Out like a light. Oh well, it’s early in the morning and she’s usually been busy humping the boss. No reason to push anything.

Good old friend Five? Huh, completely out as well. Come to think of it, it feels less like she’s sleeping and more like she’s completely unconscious.

“I guess I’m not the only one tuckered out by gathering love.”

Two? Umm… Two’s link is gone. Completely.

“Oookay, she’s way better at mental stuff than I am, so she could just be trying to have some privacy,” Seven tries to persuade himself that everything is okay, which is working less and less with each second.

Six? Exactly like Eight and Five.

“DAMN IT!”

Three? Sleeping peacefully. Finally, at least one contact, and he doesn’t seem too bothered by anything. Granted, Three never seems too bothered by stuff, but touching a calm mind does wonders for Seven. He can’t make himself wake the drone up.

“Alright, the boss? He’s probably asleep with Eight- AAAAAAAAAAAARGHHH!” Seven clutches his head as burning agony coming from the link makes him scream himself hoarse.

There are no guards outside the library on Seven’s wishes, so no one comes during his screaming fit, and in the end the infiltrator finds himself on the carpet again, his throat in sore and raw.

If there’s any good thing about what just happened, it’s that the pain both woke Seven up and drew his attention away from how sick the venomous lust was making him.

“What… the actual… fffffff… was that?! Some safeguard against anyone peeking into boss’ mind when he’s banging Eight? But she’s unconscious, so unless they’re into some seriously freaky stuff… fiiiiine, I’ll go outside again...” he grunts.

After some questions to the guards on the lower floors, Seven asks Granite quietly contemplating the pile of crap he’s found himself in.

“Loremaster, do you know where the boss is, or the queen?” asks Seven.

“Ah, Seven,” Granite welcomes any distraction from his rather depressing thoughts before the early morning meeting, “We haven’t had much time to talk since the city schism ended.”

“With your council around, Eight didn’t need a second in command anymore, which is a fact I greeted with enthusiasm. I’m usually in the castle library, practicing magic. It takes a lot of focus.”

“I see,” says Granite, “Well, a lot of things has happened. I think you should see for yourself. Come with me,” he stands up and leads Seven to the king’s suite, much to the changeling’s growing worries.

“Oh holes...” Seven’s eyes go wide when he sees the king’s withered body and Three’s sleeping head on his chest, “What the hole happened?”

Granite sighs.

“You see, a dark priest attempted to kill the king, poisoning him. The queen followed the assassin, and met something much worse which nearly killed her. Three brought her in a shape which no one should ever survive, but she’s been steadily getting better. Later, he brought a mutilated half of Five, saying Six sacrificed himself to save her.”

“What… the… fuck…?”

“Don’t you folk say hole?”

“Hole isn’t enough for this, Granite!”

“...a well-dug hole is always enough...” mumbles Three before yawning and opening his eyes, “Oh hi, Seven. Good morning, mister Granite.”

“Three, where is everyone?” asks Seven for far too many-eth time this morning.

Three yawns again.

“Can it wait? I’m really tired from feeding Gem for her chemistry homework.”

Seven can’t take it anymore.

“WHO THE HOLE IS GEM AND WHAT ELSE DID I MISS?!”

“You’ll like her. She’s a really nice lady...” mumbles Three before passing out again.

Seven’s whole face twitches.

27: Gods and mortals dance to Scream's tune, whether they like it or not.

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“Annoying… stupid… don’t tell me anything… grrr...” Seven grumbles to himself as he walks down the dwarven tunnels.

A quick peek into Three’s sleeping mind lets him easily find what he’s looking for in his memory, but there are mental blocks he can’t get through regarding recent events. These are similar to what Eight created inside their heads to avoid dwarven alarms, but vaaaastly more powerful and certainly on a level of subtlety that no one can ever mistake for Eight’s.

“Everyone’s gone… stupid… could have magicked stuff up to help… now everyone’s in pieces...”

With a huff, Seven stops right in front of a circular steel door buried deep into all sides of the tunnel.

“Well, no sign of the black goo things. There’s good news if ever I saw some. Anyway, here goes,” Seven takes a deep breath and concentrates. One quiet ‘pop!’ later, he teleports on the other side of the flood gate, and gasps for breath. The air in the short stretch of tunnel between the flood gate and the cave in is stale and full of dust.

“Okay, I’ve got a minute tops,” he mutters and conjures a flicker of light from his horn, “Ah hah!”

Six is lying next to a rock, hibernating with his forelegs clutched to his chest just like the boss. The good part is that, from all Seven can see, he isn’t hurt in any way, only empty. Seven walks over to the drone, and just as he’s about to levitate him up on his back, he hears:

”Finally, a mind interested in real magic.”

“What? Who? Where?” Seven, rapidly turning his head around, drops Six, “Oops, sorry.”

”Let us leave the what and where for later. As for who… I am the master of magic, its creator as you might say, and I welcome open minds set on bending the world to their will.”

“Well, I’m not too set on bending stuff, more the understanding pa-hhhhh!” Seven starts choking. Apparently, talking openly to the voices in one’s head inside a tunnel with limited air supply isn’t the smartest idea.

”Let me help.”

Information pours into Seven’s head through his open hive mind link - symbols, feelings, patterns for energy manipulation, components for a spell, as his trained head can recognize. Surprisingly, the forcefully learned spell is actually very simple, and even in his growing choking panic he can cast it.

An unexplained gust of wind sweeps through the tunnel, and fresh air fills Seven’s lungs, resulting in his relieved gasping.

“Whuh- wha- what was that?!”

”Just a little… gift. A taste of things to come.”

“Did you just teach me magic… like that?” Seven’s stuttering wonder makes the voice take a short break before answering.

”Yes, I did. I am the ultimate master of magic and will, and in you I can see a mind willing to delve into the deepest secrets of the universe.”

“Yeeeeeah...” Seven very carefully admits his interest, “On the other hole, anonymous voices in the darkness can’t exactly prove their credentials and intentions. And if there’s something I learned in my year of life, it’s that no one gives anything for free.”

”Now that is where you are wrong, Seven the changeling. My credentials are clear, as I was the one who created the primal alicorn of Magic himself, and my proof is the ease with which I showed you but a tiny grain of sand of the desert of my knowledge. It is so difficult to find interested minds these days, and you have piqued my curiosity. As for nothing being free… I suppose I will just have to prove it to you. My dream is for everyone to realize their full potential. For now, haven’t I simply taught you a spell within the span of a second? There is much more where that came from.”

“That does make some sense,” Seven hums to himself, “But I really should get Six back home.”

”He lasted long enough, and you have just taken care of his air problem. What’s the hurry? Don’t you trust me?”

Ummm hell to the fuck no?

On the other hole… Six IS physically okay and the air problem HAS been sorted.

Plus… fire cubes are cool, but what about lightning spiky balls? Now THAT would be something to discover. And proper hypnosis magic would sort all of the love problems…

Then Seven wouldn’t just be the changeling who can’t feed himself anymore. He could become a top tier magician as well as master of venom-less seduction. Just imagining pure love coursing through his veins makes Seven grin.

“You’re right, voice. Six lasted for days with the air he had and now it’s all reset. So, show me what you’ve got.”

”Knowledge, that is simple. Power, though… your body is not meant to withstand the power you will require, but I can help with that as well. All you need to do is follow my instructions. But... every relationship is based on trust, and while I am trusting you with my knowledge, you must also trust me enough to accept it. But, for now, I will settle for a single step - teleport behind this cave in.”

“Waaaaaait… aren’t there some weird evil things behind it?”

Alright, if the voice says there’s nothing bad there, Seven’s going to grab Six and run like all holes.

”Ah yes, the… Twisted, as the Silversmith race called their doom. A potential archmage such as you should not be afraid of such simplistic creatures. Mostly a plague given form. They served their purpose, if not completely then at least well enough. Let me ease your mind a little - if you prove your heart and teleport past, I will teach you an invisibility spell.”

Seven breathes in and out, his heart racing. On one hole, the danger posed isn’t just to him. He can save Six, but if he leaves him here then the others are in such bad shape they might not get to him in time. However, it’s clear that Six staying here is a condition for Seven’s learning. On the other hole, though… an insight into magic which would impress Scream herself.

Seven bites his lip, and teleports.

A single black, equine-like creature with large mandibles and long, spindly legs is standing right in front of him, looking in the opposite direction.

“-” Seven’s eyes go wide as he nearly swallows his tongue.

A fresh barrage of magical knowledge is seared into his receptive brain, and without much thought, Seven repeats the steps, and when he raises his hoof again, he sees only a faint purple shimmer showing its outline.

“...that’s not gonna fool that thing...” he whispers as quietly as he can.

”Only you can see the glow. To the others, you are completely invisible and mostly inaudible. You can talk like normal.”

Well, that makes sense. Not knowing where his own bits are would just make the caster clumsy. Seven decides to test the noise theory now when he can still quickly teleport away before the Twisted reacts.

“Voice. Voice?”

Nothing, the Twisted keeps standing still, its legs quivering slightly.

”Well?”

Seven sneaks past the Twisted, his heart jackhammering so hard that without the noise dampening of the hiding spell it would be enough to attract attention.

“You got me. So, what do I do next?”

”Now we shall begin with the training.”

“Yessss, more spells!” Seven punches the air.

”Now where would be the accomplishment in that? I can see the shape of your mind, future archmage. What would satisfy you the most would be a successful research of your own. Besides, tell me... what spell would you want to know?”

“Three burning green skulls which scream as they plummet at any unfortunate enemy and explode with the power of a thousand suns!”

”Heh heh heh. There is no spell like that, but if I teach you the deep principles of magic, you will be able to make a spell like that yourself.”

Seven has to agree that kinda makes sense, although this does make his suspicion return.

“You win this one, voice.”

”Then let us begin.”

Seven follows the voice’s instructions, his mind opening to arcane principles Scream tried to explain to him and he couldn’t grasp. Everything is within his reach! He barely registers the instructions to keep going deeper and deeper into the dwarven mines, at least until he finds himself in front of the opened seal previously locking the Twisted in the depths.

A sight like that breaks even his reverie of knowledge, and he hesitates before passing into the hexagonal steel tunnel which Three’s memory has marked so strongly with fear that even a different changeling’s mind can recognize it.

”A little too late for hesitation, isn’t it? You know that what I’m offering is real.”

“Well yeah, but I’m not stupid enough to keep following a voice that leads me down to where my hive mates last remember meeting a super strong and immortal bad guy.”

”Would it surprise you if I told you I wasn’t lying?”

“Not really. What would surprise me would be if it was true.”

Echoing, overbearing laughter resonates through Seven’s mind. His head hurts, overwhelmed and his concentration weakened by processing the arcane patterns. He tries to strengthen his mental barriers, but facing something which so easily got to his mind already and knows it well enough to teach him directly is proving difficult.

”It is true. Learn, grow, and accept my gift so that your body can keep up with your mind.”

“G-Gift?” groans Seven, now more focused on pushing the influence away than on committing the magic patterns to memory.

”The power I offer is immense. Only bodies containing divine power can fully wield it. Fortunately, one of my disciples is here to help you access your full potential.”

“Who?” Seven, grimacing while fighting now blinding headache, backs off when he sees a tall pony walking out of the dark tunnel.

“Me,” says the Vigil.

“Oh fuck no,” Seven turns around and bolts forward, or at least he tries to. Before he can take a single step away from the Vigil, a set of claws is holding his tail and pulling him backwards as if his arguably average weight meant nothing, “Still fuck no!”

Adrenaline caused by immediate danger washes away the pain for long enough to let Seven teleport away, past the big gate. He was expecting to only go few pony lengths, but the fact that he cleared over triple the distance in a single spellcast is a good indicator that he’s able to do far more than he used, or at least do the same thing, but better.

“Invisibilityyyy-AAAAH!” he screams, realizing that it took the Vigil only three Seven’s breaths to reach the changeling. The blow which grazes his backside afterwards makes him spin in the air, clearly showing that invisibility isn’t something that’s going to work here.

However, Seven’s adrenaline keeps on giving, and he teleports away mid-spin, landing in a different shaft which according to the hive mind map isn’t far away, but separated by a wall. Unfortunately… he’s not alone.

A Twisted’s jaw snaps right next to Seven’s neck as he rolls away.

“Damn it, I KNEW those assholes weren’t peaceful because of the crappy invisibility,” he curses as he teleports again on instinct. Landing right under another Twisted who opens his mouth to puke at Seven can’t be healthy for one’s nerves.

”You think you can run?”

“Trying to!” Seven mutters quickly, reappearing elsewhere yet again, this time in a large cavern lit only by the flickering dot atop his horn. Unfortunately, he can see the shapes swarming in the gloom where his light is barely enough to meld the darkness, “Sorry, Six! I shouldn’t have given in to the temptation!”

This time without the popping sound of amateur teleporting, he noiselessly appears on the floor by hibernating Six’s side. The shove makes the drone rolls over, his legs touching Seven who screams and jumps on all fours before realizing where he is. Gasping for breath, he doesn’t wait for anything, grabs Six, and teleports up into the only place where he can even remotely feel safe again.

The silence of the library greets Seven who carefully puts Six down before curling up into his reading armchair and listening with bated breath for anything even remotely resembling a voice not belonging into the hive mind. Minutes pass, and despite his breath calming down, he starts shaking more and more as well as whimpering with growing frequency.

“What was it? What was it? What was it?” he doesn’t know when he started repeating this mantra, but he can’t stop. Something beyond the understanding of mortal minds touched him, and somehow he knows he’ll never feel safe again. Just a simple look at the massive library door is enough to make the panic attack worse, and he runs away to the back shelves where a simple cot of few blankets is lying on the carpet. He pushes it under a table, then stacks some of the less valuable books around so that he can’t be seen from the outside, and then pulls the blanket over his head.

It’s nowhere close enough.

The longer Seven remains in the silence, the more he thinks he can hear voices at the edge of hearing, but whenever he concentrates there’s nothing.

Being alone isn’t helping.

Seven stands up.

“OW!”

For some reason, hitting his head on the heavy table feels more calming than the peace of his previously safe spot.

“Okay, work work work… anything that will stop this damn silence,” he grits his teeth after much more carefully crawling out from under the table, “Cleanup time!”

After putting that part of the library back into some working order, Seven returns to Six who is unsurprisingly still lying on the carbet near the entrance.

“Scream? SCREAM?!” he, well, screams into the silence, his voice echoing through the library.

”Who requires some holy smiting?” the alicorn appears with a smile which slowly dissipates when she looks into Seven’s horror-stricken face, ”What? Do I have someone in my teeth?”

Seven takes a deep breath. Trying to calm himself down has failed, so the only way not to go crazy is to get straight to work. Going outside to gather love for Six is completely unthinkable. It’s not safe anywhere, and even here it’s questionable.

“Remember how I asked you to help me summon a succubus? I think I can do it now.”

”Do you? Last time you had to beat that imp over the head with a chair. That’s not a banishment method that will work against a proper demon.”

“I can’t go outside, and it would be useless anyway. A succubus is the only way that I can feed Six, and right now I’m the only one in the position to do so.”

Scream disappears for a second, then reappears.

”Huh, you’re right. Only hug bug isn’t unconscious. Alright, if you want a succubus, I can easily provide the best one. But if you summon something with teeth instead of tits, don’t blame me.”

“At this point, I’ll go for teeth tits ten times out of ten instead of going outside.”

Scream shrugs.

”Let’s go. Got the books ready?”

Seven nods to his reading table.

“All three of them in this library - Daemonologicus summonus megaboobicus, Practicus succubus balldrainus, and Pleasureus maximus for dummiesus,”

”Enchanted chalk?”

“Still got it here from our last attempt,” Seven pushes a box from behind a chair.

”You gonna roll the carpet away again?”

“Fuck the carpet!” Seven crushes a piece of chalk in his hooves and starts drawing a circle.

The preparations take close to an hour, resulting in Seven being covered in variously colored chalk from head to hoof. Scream examines his hoofwork, and nods her head.

”Much better. Let’s see if the ritual itself ends up different. Do you remember it?”

“Yes, but please help me.”

Scream blinks. Seven feels grim, focused, and straight to the point, which is vastly different from his usual happy excitement at revealing even the tiniest new forms of magic. That makes things a lot easier, though.

To Seven, the previously complicated ritual is more like a chore now. He knows what the progress of how he feels means, how the magic flows through him now. He can categorize every magical nerve lighting up, and every level of power now filling him. The previously fast ten minutes now feel drawn out like reading an already once finished book. In the end, the magical circle glows, and fiery light with green undertones growing throughout the entire ritual coalesces into a winged equine form taller than Seven.

This time, Seven can easily be certain he summoned a pleasure demon, because damn, she’s hot. The succubus is blood-red with bat-like, leathery wings. No horns, surprisingly in comparison to his previous failed attempts. Her eyes are strange - glowing gold with slit, black pupils on the background of black sclera. Her tail resembles a griffon one more than a pony - long, hairless whip with dark brown duster on the end. In fact, Seven has to admit, her mane of the same color does look rather… common in comparison to the rest of her. As she takes a step towards him, light slides over her inequinely short coat, drawing Seven’s attention first to her toned legs, then to her slim yet fit figure, and in the end towards her swaying hips. The impressive fact that she’s nearly a full head taller than he is despite not having a horn is lost on him, as the lust practically oozing from her paralyzes his changeling senses.

Seeing Seven’s adoring stupor, the succubus smirks, her full lips glossy with golden lipstick matching her eyes only adding to Seven’s shock. In the changeling’s eyes, in the contest of sexiness she could give Scream a damn good run for her money.

“I- uhh- I-” Seven needs a reboot.

“You summoned me.”

“Uhh, well, I, umm… did...” the changeling version of the blue screen of death continues.

“Mmmm...” she walks towards the edge of the cummoning circle, but before she can leave, a magical barrier stops her. Tilting her head, she examines blushing Seven, “A changeling mage. I haven’t seen that in quite some time. Certainly a pleasant change from those amateur unicorn demonologists.”

“P-Pleasant?” Seven keeps stuttering. Has he just been compared to someone in terms of attractiveness… and came out on top?

“Of course,” the succubus winks at him, and blows him a kiss, “With how well both of us can shapeshift, I am certain tonight will be something to remember. So tell me, my master, in which form would you want to take me? A unicorn?”

Pink fire envelops her, changing her features to a slender unicorn mare who would make Fleur de Lis do a double take.

“I- uhh- me- us-” Seven stops talking and waves his hoof in a circle. His… servant understands, and cycles her body into that of a smaller pegasus, upon which Seven shakes his head, “I, umm… a small, fragile mare isn’t really my thing.”

“A submissive then? My favorite,” the succubus chuckles, and turns into a well-built earthpony mare who looks like she could crush Seven’s head between her thighs. Seven gulps. On one hole, that form is something he really wants to try. On the other, the curiosity about what the succubus can really do is slowly winning over his fear.

“You’re gorgeous, but I’d like to see more,” he manages to control his voice.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she says, “Come closer,” as Seven stops directly in front of the line of the summoning circle, she looks deep into his eyes, “I knew you’d want this. You can’t beat the original.”

With another burst of fire, Seven’s jaw drops when he sees a changeling on the other side of the magical barrier. She’s looks very similar to the succubus’ original body in shape and size, but her mane is yellow instead of brown, and her tail is… well, normal. The golden eyes and lipstick remain, though. With the tip of her hoof, she scrapes the invisible wall separating her from Seven.

“Now the only question remains,” she says, “Who’s going to be on top?”

Seven looks behind him at Scream giving him a sly grin.

”Fun fact, nerd bug - What do you think happens when you infuse a being whose life is based on love and lust with divine power?” the alicorn nods at the succubus.

Thinking is much easier for Seven when it’s not related to mares, and he catches on quickly, mostly due to the ‘original’ comment.

“She used to be a real changeling?”

The changeling succubus turns around, flicks her tail to the side, and swings her hips before spreading her legs.

“Why don’t you put your mouth to much better use?” she looks back at him.

Seven, on instinct, walks into the summoning circle. Scream’s grin grows, and so does that of the succubus.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” she shakes her head, “Walking inside the protected area without any shields of your own. Now THAT is what I call a rookie mistake,” as she turns around, which breaks Seven’s trance, the real changeling can see her rather small but sharp teeth, much more numerous than the mouth of any changeling or pony, like a grin full of needles.

He backs off in fear, and the faint glow of the protective circle disappears.

“Oopsies,” says the succubus, nodding towards the smooshed chalk outline on the carpet. Before Seven can react, she taps his forehead, and a new feeling rips through him, as if all his love and lust got torn out in an instant.

Needless to say, he collapses on the floor, his body going into hibernation.

The succubus returns to her demonic form, and stretches her wings.

“To be honest, I enjoy a little more meat on my bones,” she says, looking directly at Scream who should be invisible to everyone.

For the first time, the alicorn speaks out in a normal voice dripping with honey and eternal invitation to bed… and table… and garage… and the floor if nothing else is readily available:

“Time to take matters into our own hooves for a moment. Hug bug does great massages, but I wouldn’t leave him in charge.”

The succubus cracks her neck, and heads for the library door, carefully stepping over Six.

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

Scream smiles.

“These guys looked like they needed your help.”

“They always do. Let’s see if they deserve it.”

The succubus leaves the library, not bothering to hide herself in any way, and Scream vanishes.

28: Secrets remain secrets only until Eight gets punch- involved.

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Eight opens her eyes.

There’s no yawning, no existential uncertainty, no moment of sleepiness, only a warrior ready to serve her hive and owner.

She rolls over.

*Thud!*

The suddenly very annoyed warrior lying on the floor of her suite under her bed scowls.

“Right… I’m still in the sausage version. It looks like Three did a good job feeding me, though,” taking a deep breath to concentrate, Eight’s torso bursts out in green flames, and as seconds pass, the best warrior of the hive pushes herself back onto all quickly regrowing fours, sits down on her haunches, and kisses both her forelegs.

“Ahhh, good old punchers. I missed you. Welcome back, ‘total genital annihilation’. Welcome back, ‘eventual inevitable genocide’,” when that is done, she looks at her hind legs, “I really should name you two as well, but for now I’ll go with ‘kicky’ and ‘kicky 2: the kickening’.”

Now, a picture of Eight rolling on her back and kissing her hind hooves one by one would be something any potential photographer would want to auction off for a life’s worth of money, but the drawback would be said quickly shortened lifetime spent by trying to escape one very embarrassed changeling.

“Sooo… how are things?”

Boss? Still impossible to contact over the wall of agony. So, somehow still alive.
Two? Completely… gone? What?
Three? Sleepy time!
Five? Unconscious, recovering from some crazy injury.
Six? Hibernating, completely drained of love.
Seven? Exactly the same thing.
Eight? Getting angrier with every unreachable changeling.
Nine? Sadly, still dead.

Eight comes to the very same conclusion that Seven did.

“WHAT THE HOLE DID I MISS?!”

This needs some mental intrusions to solve. Eight digs into Three’s mind, and growls to herself when she learns about Three’s and Six’s trip to the dark priest enclave, and Two’s and Five’s fate. Afterwards, there isn’t too much to find anymore, as Three has spent majority of his time either by Eight’s, Five’s, or boss’ side. However, there are some very subtle mental blocks inside Three’s head which she can’t get through about some recent events, and with surprise she finds those in her own head as well. What’s worse, they are surrounding the assassination attempt on her by the old queen’s monologuing son.

Someone saved her, but she can’t recall who, and the mental blocks are the work of a master infiltrator.

Alright, first things first - while things are rather strange, the only unexplained state of a changeling is Seven in hibernation. That means…

“I gotta get a report from Granite, and then see what’s going on in the library,” Eight decides on the course of action, “No offense to Seven, but in that exact order.”

With a clear goal in mind, she rushes to the council room which is empty. Some questions about time later, she finds the loremaster overseeing the afternoon guard practices.

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” Granite calls out when she enters a wide open room of the training grounds filled with clanking of weapons and humming of ventilation, and the relief in his voice genuinely takes Eight aback.

Granite salutes, and when Eight stops in front of him she repeats his gesture as well as she can.

“Granite, I need a report of what happened since I encountered the Vigil. Immediately.”

“Who or what is this Vigil? I know very little other than that Three returned with you in shape incompatible with life on his back, and few days later he did the same with Five. I haven’t seen any other changelings than Three for quite some time. The council have been doing their best to keep things going and prevent anyone finding out that you and the king were… indisposed,” he claps his hooves together, “Wait, no! Seven asked the same thing recently. I thought you could share information in some way,” Granite raises an eyebrow, “I’m sure the king could- can.”

Step one - failed.

“That’s the thing, Granite. We can, but everyone I try to connect to is either unconscious or completely gone, so you can understand my FREAKING PANIC!” she bares her teeth, but her voice is more frustrated than threatening, and Granite gets that.

“Understood, queen,” Granite nods, and leads Eight away to a quiet place nearby which is the armory where Granite’s story is interrupted only by dwarves occasionally unloading boxes of training equipment. Most of it is alright, but Three presenting someone called Gem to Granite for… some reason who wanted an access to a top-tier dwarven chemistry lab… for some reason is certainly something to worry about.

“Granite, I need to get inside your head.”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

“You’re not bothered by not remembering who this Gem is, how she looked, or why Three brought her here?”

“I… I… now that you mention it...” Granite hits his head with his hoof, “Am I going senile?”

“No, you’re not,” Eight pats his head, “I found the same block in my head regarding someone saving me from an assassination attempt, and inside Three’s head. I think this Gem worked her… influence on you as well.”

“Am I under some sort of mind control?” Granite furrows his brows.

“In a way, yes, but it’s extremely subtle and unless we’re all sleeping agents of someone, I think it’s harmless. My best guess is that this Gem is covering her tracks extremely well, and does it to anyone she comes into contact with. I just need to make sure that’s the case.”

“Alright,” Granite takes a deep breath to gather courage, “For Brauheim! Well, what do I do?”

Eight sticks her tongue out, and lets a big drop of green slime fall on the frog of her raised hoof. The goo hardens, forming sort of a coin.

“Eat it.”

Granite takes it and takes a sniff of the minty scent.

“It’s a bit sweet, actually,” says Eight, “Go on. I’m not too good at mental stuff, so I won’t be able to just go through your memory minute by minute, but I’m good enough to see if the same blocks which are inside me and Three are inside you as well, and maybe get some details.”

The loremaster swallows the thin wafer, and in few seconds he feels slightly light-headed.

“What now-”

“Blank,” says Eight in a firm voice which makes Granite just stand and stare at Eight’s chest. She puts her horn to Granite’s forehead, and concentrates.

She gets faint glimpses of the dwarf’s conversation with Seven, the chaos after Three dragged her out of the depths, discussions of the dwarven council, and…

...yep, here they are. Details of certain recent memories locked behind mental barriers which Eight could easily believe might belong to One herself. Eight gets ready to withdraw from Granite’s head when she feels a draw of a different, strong set of memories and experiences, ones about much younger Granite in the company of many brown robed, bald, and bearded dark priests in place which she can identify based on Three’s memories - the underground dark priest enclave which Scream identified as a possible ancient Silversmith prison.

Curiosity wins, and Eight delves deeper.

***

Young Granite is sitting in a comfortable armchair, watching a floating picture created by rays coming from the top of a disc lying on the table. The recording shows a battle, clearly, from the point of view of someone.

“Old dwarves, or even the ancestors themselves?” Granite mumbles, scribbling notes into an open book on the table next to the projector disc, “Maybe the next section will show more,” he taps the disc twice, and the picture starts moving again.

It’s chaotic to say the least. Energy weapons on which the current dark priest technology is based fire salvo after salvo against every shadow moving through the tunnels. The recording soldier turns his head from side to side, revealing that there is something like… a mechanical pony on each of his sides?

“These things are everywhere,” Granite leans closer to the paused recording to see any previously unnoticed detail about the metal ponies, “I don’t think they are just mechanical servants or combat drones. They move… too fluid for that.”

Few more notes later, he resumes the recording again, this time straining his eyes to see the targets of the soldier’s projectiles.

They look like black ponies, but some have additional pairs of spider legs, blades of the praying mantis, some have mandibles or tentacles and a lot of teeth. They move in a jerky, jumpy fashion, but they can clear large stretches of the tunnel with long leaps, and don’t seem too bothered by parts of their bodies getting blown off. Despite the incinerating effect of the beam weapons, there are simply far too many enemies, and their sheer mass is pushing over the corpses, devouring them as they go.

“No… they’re not just reabsorbing their fallen...” Granite pales, “They’re using the biomass to grow more of themselves mid-battle.”

A long, sharp leg eventually pierces the pony robot on the left, and before the panicking soldier can react, the attacking monster jumps from the ceiling and rips the robot in half. The recording suddenly blurs as if the soldier was thrown, and then it ends.

“Hmm...”

He rewinds the recording, listening for voices and orders while consulting his book and pausing frequently.

“Back, forth, orders… Twisted advancing. Need reinforcements. Almost at the door,” he mumbles, “Can’t understand everything, but this feels like standard soldier talk. Alright, next recording,” he taps the disc in a different spot, the picture disappears, and as Granite turns around, Eight can see through his eyes shelf after shelf full of the same discs.

Smirking to himself, Granite mutters:

“Let others worry about weapons, technology, and rituals. If we want to salvage some of the miracles we’ve got here in the enclave, we need to understand our own language first.”

Armed with his homemade ancestor dictionary, Granite requests the assistance of a dark guard who follows him outside the enclave. As a neophyte, he’s not allowed to go back to Brauheim, but he can explore the nearby tunnels with proper company. It doesn’t take long to find a massive closed gateway made from bedrock and covered in carvings.

Granite examines the carvings and opens his book.

“This is where some of the soldiers wanted to get to, so...”

He runs around under the dark guard’s patient gaze, flipping the pages of his dictionary, and his frustration grows until he stops and grumbles:

“Nothing. Is this really just… a picture?”

The depicted scene is clearly happening on the surface where several small ponies, changelings, and some more creatures are fighting bigger equines partially covered with tentacles all over a large pyramid. On its top, a unicorn wearing an emerald amulet is facing a big griffon. Four massive stone pillars with crystals on top are forming a square surrounding the pyramid, energy arcing upwards. All that is happening under a giant scar tearing the sky apart under which something… something which even in the picture feels alive, a mass of twisted tentacles surrounding an eyeball blotting out the sun is clearly battling a solitary alicorn absolutely tiny in comparison.

“Is that Scream?” Eight mutters to herself, watching the memory, ”No, that’s a stallion.”.

As Granite explores the depicted scene further, Eight notices the corner of the picture through his eyes, and does find Scream. The alicorn lies dead on the ground, forgotten by everyone, but with a smile on her muzzle.

Granite shakes his head.

“No description or anything. Could this be just a picture from some vision or something? Or maybe even… just art?” he nods towards the guard, “Let’s go back. I’ve got another idea where to get some information.”

With his dictionary back in his saddlebag, Granite enters the dark priest museum. Pieces of ancestral technology are lying around on pedestals with plaques explaining what the exhibits are. The descriptions are vague at best, and often they just say that it wasn’t possible to salvage any useful technology from the piece or discern what it was used for. Granite, though, heads straight to a headless torso of the same mechanical pony he saw in the recording. Well, very likely not EXACTLY the same one, but it looks very similar.

“The head was removed during research of optical technology and extraction of the data disc,” Granite reads. He’s been in the museum multiple times, but this time his dictionary has improved to a point where he might be able to translate the hair-thin writing on the robot’s chest.

“Names and numbers… Deep Dig, Circuit, Dusty...” Granite shakes his head, “Those could be normal dwarven names. Why are they written on a robot? Numbers… it could be date and time, only the year makes no sense. Although our calendar starts rather recently. If this is an ancestor machine, it could be vastly different. Huh, could it be a date when this thing was created? Nothing like a serial number, though, just the names. And some symbols which could, if I squint enough, resemble our soldier ranks. This would be a private. Why, though?”

He scribbles the rank symbol into his dictionary along with the private theory and few question marks. Maybe he’ll find something to compare with later. With his inspiration temporarily running out, Granite returns to the library, and picks the next data disc in a row.

As another combat view starts playing, Granite bites his lip. Why? He’s been in the enclave for months, and in the hundreds of the data discs, there hasn’t been a single one regarding family life, culture, anything other than these damn combat logs.

This time, however, the log doesn’t end with the recording soldier’s death, but with a long text which Granite knows will probably take him days to translate. Date, name, rank are now fairly simple to decipher, but the vast majority of the text are symbols and expressions he can’t understand. He puts the disc away for later use, and grabs the next one.

“Yessss!” he punches the air. Finally, the name on top of the screen coincides with the last one, but the rank symbol is more complex. This is the first time he’s been able to find two recordings by the same soldier, and this one actually begins with text one word of which Granite CAN understand.

“Briefing,” he breathes out, “Did the soldier survive the mission and get promoted immediately? Did they have no idea what they were doing until they survived first deployment?”

That doesn’t sound like smart military strategy, more like pure desperation. Give somepony basic training and a gun and hope for the best.

It takes Granite the whole afternoon and most of the night to translate some terms from the briefing thanks to the random assortment of words and his best guesstimates in his dictionary, and in the end he’s more confused than when he started.

The area of the enclave and the mines in this part of the world are often referred to as the “final site” for something called “project Living End”. The briefing mentions “prison” and “laboratory underneath” as well as “test subjects”. What he does get is the reference to “the Twisted” as the enemy who clearly are the monstrous creatures inhabiting the tunnels.

“Weapon research as well...” Granite mumbles, trying to put things together in his head, “The great weapon, or big weapon… depends on the interpretation. This sheds no light on the disappearance of our ancestors, but it’s clear that there was something big going on either here or nearby that would stop the Twisted.”

He yawns, and looks at the clock above the door.

“Oh my...” smiling at his discovery, he picks up his book and borrows the data disc, signing off at the librarian’s desk, “Working while tired will only cause mistakes.”

Back on the upper floors, Granite keels over into his bed. His roommate is fast asleep, but thankfully, the dark priests aren’t too strict on time schedule down here which is a big difference to how they present themselves in Brauheim.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds himself lying on a stone slab. Has it been decided that he would undergo the secret ritual to become a dark priest?

He sits up, giddiness growing with each passing second, and reaching its peak as he notices a circle of dark priests surrounding him and…

...a second stone slab on which there is…

“Father?” Granite tilts his head. The old and skinny dwarf doesn’t react.

A dark priest comes closer and puts a dagger on a pedestal between the stone altars.

“Your father is unconscious,” he says, “We know what brought you to us in the first place. We have scoured through your past, and we appreciate your unparalleled lust for knowledge. Your translation effort with neophyte resources is genuinely admirable, and we want you to imagine how much more you could do with real dark priest privileges. However, as I stated, we also know that your original goal was to find a cure for your father, a cure we possess.”

“You do?” Granite brightens up.

“Dark priest service, though, stems from the ability to watch over lesser dwarves, to guide them without regard for your own personal issues, which is where this test comes in. We will not allow you to cure your father, as certain… comforts of life belong only to our hooves. In fact, you must get rid of this burden, you must sever this tie to your being a lesser dwarf, and ascend,” he nods towards the dagger, “Your father will die within two months anyway, but the knowledge you stand to gain is more than a lifetime’s worth.”

Granite glares at the surrounding dwarves. As they correctly said, his father would die soon, and they wouldn’t grant him access to the cure anyway. On the other hoof, in the months here inside the enclave, he’s only scratched the surface of what could be the saving grace of dwarves, what could catapult them into the future and improve the lives of tens of thousands.

“Fuck you, monsters,” he growls.

Darkness takes him quickly, and Eight decides to stop spying on the dwarf’s past.

***

Real Granite shakes his head, coming out of the daze caused by Eight’s venom, completely unaware of what the queen saw.

“Thank you for your trust and information,” Eight steadies him as he stumbles while raising his foreleg, “You’ll feel dizzy for few minutes, so I suggest you to sit down and wait it out.”

“Did- did you find what you were looking for?” he asks.

“Yes, I did. One thing doesn’t fit, though, and that is Seven being out cold. I’m going to the library.”

“Do you need guards?”

“No,” Eight grins, “They’d only get in the way.”

After lowering Granite on the floor, she trots out of the training grounds.
Contrary to Eight’s paranoia, opening the door to the library doesn’t reveal the sight of a gruesome massacre. That is the good part. The bad part is that it quickly reveals completely drained Seven lying halfway over some sort of complicated chalk dust drawing on the carpet, as well as…

“Six?” Eight trots over, “What are YOU doing here?” of course, she gets no answer, “Did Seven get you out of the tunnel where Three left you? How?” she smacks her forehead, “Teleportation magic, riiight… I really should try learning at least that. It could be useful.”

She walks around the smooshed magic circle, sniffing the air.

“But what was he trying to do with this?”

As Eight’s nose picks up a scent which she can’t categorize, she freezes. The scent left a trail. Something or someone else was here as well. Considering that both changelings are alive, only hibernating, said someone didn’t see the need to get rid of them permanently.

Eight stretches her forelegs, and grins.

“I might not be much good for all that mental stuff, but I’m one hole of a bloodhound.”

Soon enough, she can pick the completely unique scent against the background of the castle, shapeshifts her hooves into pads for quiet walking, and gallops outside. It only takes minutes before the scent grows stronger, but Eight meets only few surprised and relieved dwarf guards who salute to her. However, when she eventually opens a door on which the scent is the strongest, it leads to one of the many castle warehouses, this one for laundry.

Or at least it should be laundry, but it’s completely empty. An open room with a heavy door that can be locked only from the outside. Eight realizes she’s been led here. Into this…

...arena.

“Alright, show yourself,” she says with complete calm, shifting her legs back into the implements of destruction they are supposed to be, “You wanted me here, and I know you’re here too.”

A quick burst of pink fire from ahead makes Eight twitch, but her movement stops when she instantly realizes that it’s not a projectile of some sort headed her way. Instead, the fire reveals a deviously smiling red mare with brown mane and wings Eight has seen before only on batponies from Canterlot. The mare licks her lips decorated in golden lipstick, and her eyes of the same color lock on Eight. She isn’t much smaller than the warrior herself, but the difference in physical build is like night and day.

“Snooping around, doggy? Mmmm, you’re making me reevaluate my preference for stallions,” the mare gives Eight a seductive wink.

“Who are you, and what did you do to Seven?” Eight is laser focused on the enemy, ready to pounce or dodge instantly if need be.

“Oh,” the mare waves her hoof dismissively, “I just took back the lust that poor excuse for an infiltrator absorbed from me on accident.”

“I’m not fond of anyone draining my changelings.”

“He’s yours?” the mare laughs, covering her mouth with her hoof, “Explains why he was such a trash infiltrator. You should stick to making warriors, really.”

Eight cracks her neck, quickly tired of the mare’s theatrics.

“I’ve been in bed for too long, and I could use some rehabilitation. You’ll do.”

Her words are followed with Eight’s straight punch at the mare’s head. The enemy dodges backwards, clearly having been ready for it as well. Eight quickly rams her previously punching hoof against the floor, and spins around on it, leaving the strange mare facing two hind legs kicking with such force which could demolish a chunk of the castle wall.

That’s not the shocking part, though. Eight’s strength and speed isn’t anything new. What IS the surprise, is that the enemy doesn’t use teleportation or anything unnatural, she’s simply fast enough to get out of the way.

The quick exchange has left the two in switched places, and Eight looks at her foreleg, then stomps it against the floor.

“Alright, basic movements are okay, albeit not a hundred percent yet. Let’s kick it up a notch.”

The mare chuckles.

“Awww, little filly just wants to kick- WHOAH!” this time the mare vanishes in a burst of fire to avoid Eight’s significantly faster roundhouse kick which would otherwise knock her head clean off, and likely make it bounce around the room like a marble in a pinball machine.

Eight’s following right hook doesn’t reach the mare, but the shockwave of air does, making her stumble and pushing her backwards. Using the second of distraction, Eight closes the distance between them, rears on her hind legs, and twists away, because-

-a spike of pink fire grows from the mare’s foreleg in an instant, which she uses like a weightless sword to score a deep scar into the chiting of Eight’s barrel. Come to think about it, the attack was very similar to the boss’ love blade.

Leaving her chitin as it is to conserve her already limited energy, Eight feels an intrusion into her mind, and in the same instant she’s assaulted by images of rutting, her boning the boss in a whirlwind of pure lust, serving the entire dwarf city as a pleasure toy, and how amazing it would all feel if she would give in to her changeling urge to feed.

Of course, the tempting vision’s mistake is to show the boss in the first place, and a specter of boss’ death makes Eight simply ignore the mental attack, and her fury-powered punch finally connects.

The other mare’s spine snaps at the force, her neck bending back into an L shape. With a burst of flames, the mare’s body evaporates, and reforms into her original shape a short distance away with a slightly annoyed pout. Flicking her head as if she had a horn, she conjures a whirlwind of fire aimed at Eight who simply pounces through it, about to stomp the mare.

Pink, fiery tentacles sprout from the floor, each grabbing Eight by one leg and one by her torso. They raise the warrior up into the air. Two more grow behind her, and start slapping Eight’s buttcheeks like a pair of bongos.

“I gotta keep few of those around,” Eight flexes her muscles, ripping the binding tentacles out of the ground, and making them disappear. However, before she drops on the ground, another fiery blade created by the mare spears her neck clean through a tiny slit between her chitin plates.

With a twitch of her neck, Eight breaks the magical weapon, and kicks herself off of the floor with her hind legs so fast that the enemy can’t react when Eight lands on her, finding herself in a bear hug squeezing all air from her lungs.

After a quick and fruitless struggle to escape, the mare’s eyes go wide when Eight nuzzles her nose.

“Ahhh, that was a nice stretch,” Eight smiles, “Now let’s stop fucking around, One. I’ll tell you what’s going on. Then you have to tell me how you survived Las Pegasus, and why you picked this edgy recolor.”

One stares at Eight still not letting her move, and then she shakes her head, genuine smile growing on her muzzle.

“Only if I get a turn with the boss afterwards.”

Eight lets One go and stands back up, her smile fading quickly.

“Yeeeah, that won’t be so simple. Boss is… in trouble. Also, you looked waaaay better as a changeling.”

One gets back on all fours, and sparks of pink and green fire transform her coat into black changeling chitin, and her mane changes from long and brown into a much shorter one and pastel yellow. In the end, her leathery wings burn away, leaving only a pair of changeling, fly-like ones.

The master infiltrator daintily taps her hoof against the stone floor of the storeroom, leaving a burning hoofmark.

“Why am I getting the feeling that I’m going to have to use my new demonic powers on someone?”

29: The dumbest decision in the history of dumb decisions.

View Online

Five wakes up, hearing careful hoofsteps, and while her awakening is akin to Eight’s instant awareness, the fact that Five has never lived for long under the constant threat of her own hive means her senses and instincts aren’t as sharp. Still, she’s a good enough warrior to realize that she’s been sleeping in a bed, which heavily contrasts with her last memory of being crushed by tons of rocks and then jiggled on Three’s back in agonizing pain.

Huh, that means Three did get her to safety. And Six, what about Six?

Her attempt to connect to others via hive link fails as she hits a mental wall which she immediately knows is way out of her pay grade as well as that of anyone she knows. However, as she continues to explore the mental obstacle, it shifts, and allows her to pass.

Without giving any sign of being awake, Five tests out various hive links, and finds that only one is open and listening.

”Eight… queen…?” she says with utmost care.

A different, soft voice answers her call instead of Eight’s:

”I’m glad you’re awake, Five.”

”Who… who are you?”

”A friend. You can call me Gem.”

”That mental barrier… is it yours?”

Five hears a chuckle. Not one in her mind, but with her real ears, and opens her eyes.

”Yes, it’s mine. I apologize, it’s a habit of protecting myself from being tracked. This, and messing with others’ memories. I often forget to stop doing it.”

As the mental barrier surrounding Five’s hive mind senses dissipates, the warrior examines an unknown changeling watching her with a calm smile. Her demeanor puts Five at ease, although considering how powerful in comparison this ‘Gem’ is, the warrior doesn’t dare relax too much. Insteads, she opts for careful observation.

Obviously, Gem is an infiltrator. A little chubby for a changeling, but all excess weight is in the perfect places to make her draw everyone’s eye. Maybe that’s why she needs to instinctively mess with minds around her to avoid being remembered. However, Five’s observation doesn’t yield any too useful results. Point one - Gem is a changeling. Point two - her black chitin is streaked with semi-random grey stripes which nonetheless connect on her chest to form a small heart. Whether that is a decoration or something Gem hatched with is unclear. Point three - Gem isn’t physically strong by any measure, and judging by her off-rhythm hoofsteps, she’s got some issue with leg coordination. Point four - if Five wanted to do anything hostile, she’d get creamed despite everything stated earlier. In fact, she doesn’t think she’d even be allowed to move.

With that sorted, Five crawls out of the bed, which makes Gem rush towards her and steady her before she keels over when her hind legs betray her,

“What?” Five croaks through parched throat as Gem helps her sit down.

“Drink this,” she offers Five a vial of something green. The warrior shrugs, and downs the sticky, minty goop. Almost instantly, love fills her like lightning. Some surprised coughing later, Five gathers herself, looking at Gem who is watching this with an amused smile.

“T-Thank you,” Five can’t contain her curiosity, “That was love, wasn’t it?”

“A mix of love and lust trapped in chemically treated changeling goo. You know, so that you can store some for times when love’s hard to find.”

“That’s… I’ve never even heard about something being possible.”

“That’s how it used to be in the old hive, from what I... heard. I just found the right stabilizing agent to stop the natural dispersion and decay. The downside is that you can’t just drain the love from the goo, you need to physically drink it.”

“I’m definitely feeling better already.”

“That dose should fill you up nicely. Your capacity isn’t too high. If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“A year, give or take,” Five shrugs, then she raises her foreleg, “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that you’re helping me, but I’m not saying anything else that might compromise me or my hive.”

To her surprise, Gem only nods, and says:

“Then I suppose it’s time to see who else is up.”

Five’s focus is drawn into the hive mind without her having any say in the matter. The darkness shows only the two of them for a moment before the empty space twists, and as if jumping out of a vertical pool of ink, Eight lands, her hooves sending green burning cracks out from the point of impact. Her keenly aware expression is replaced by a dropped jaw instantly when she notices Gem.

“I- you- who- how-” Eight stutters, the locks inside her memory disappearing, revealing the situation with the old queen’s son in its entirety, “...Four, is that really you?”

Other than when meeting the boss and Three, this is the first time Five is seeing Eight burst into tears.

“Yes, it’s me, mom,” Gem walks over, and hugs Eight.

“I- I thought- I thought the paladins… killed you,” it finally dawns on Eight that this isn’t some confused memory or an overactive imagination, and she squeezes Gem so hard her eyes bulge.

“Gghhhhhhh!” Gem gasps for breath, “A lot less… than you’re… doing now...”

Hearing that, Eight lessens her deathgrip enough for Gem to breathe.

A burning portal appears out of nowhere, letting in another changeling, this time a blond one with golden eyes, whom Five doesn’t know, and whom she can’t sense absolutely anything from.

“MISS ONE!” Gem exclaims, “What are you doing here?”

One. Well, that explains everything, thinks Five. The ‘way above her pay grade’ feeling returns with vengeance. On the other hole, it doesn’t look like anyone is in danger, and they all are friends.

“Apparently, fixing the mess Eight here is in,” One shrugs, “And also testing my awesome new divine slash demonic powers I got from Scream.”

“What?” Gem tilts her head as much as she can, which isn’t much due to Eight’s hug, “Demonic powers?”

“As it turns out, I’ve made it so far as a changeling that with a little help I ascended into a succubus,” One shrugs, and in a burst of fire transforms into her blood red succubus form, and spreads her wings.

“Eeeeh,” Gem shakes her head, “I like you more as a changeling.”

“Yeah, you look like menstruation given life and hair,” Eight sneers, and One just sticks her tongue out in response. The fact that said tongue snakes out so far that it boops Eight’s nose which makes Gem giggle in her embrace is only a detail. Faced with general disapproval, One turns back into a changeling.

“Ye wanna ‘ave a go, mate?” One cracks her neck.

“MISS OOOOOOOOONEEEEEEEE!” a small chitinous comet hits One in the face before she can react.

“Mmmphmphhh-” One scowls under her chitinous gag, and a pink aura grips Three, turning him around One’s head so that he’s sat on the back of her neck, “Shove off, Three!”

Immediately, Three slides down on One’s back, and starts massaging her chitin like a cat preparing a sleeping spot.

“I can do this now, miss One,” the drone announces with pride.

“What? You scratch my back, I scratch- hnnnnnghhh...” One’s eyes cross, and a small wave of fire washes over her chitin, softening it up to let Three work his magic better, “Nevermind, keep going. I think I can keep talking and enjoy this. If I start speaking complete nonsense, it’s his fault.”

“How do we know the difference?” Eight grins, but One is too preoccupied with her tongue lolling out of her mouth. She blinks out of sync and slurps it back into her mouth.

“I shouldn’t be surprised, should I? No one stays dead in this hive,” One looks around, and raises her voice, “Hey, flower pot, you around too?”

“Ummm, me?” Five raises her foreleg.

“A sex change? Eh, could have gone worse,” One shrugs.

Five gives Eight a questioning glance.

“No, One,” says Eight, finally letting Gem go, “As far as we know, Nine really is dead. This is Five. She got the flower pot moniker because, well, they are kinda similar.”

“Too bad, he was a grand piece of chitin,” to Five’s surprise, no one looks displeased by One’s dismissive tone, “Anyway, I think this is the perfect time to catch up on what happened, and to reminisce about the good old days.”

“No, it’s not,” Gem shoots the idea down, standing up and massaging her bruised carapace, “Actually, there couldn’t be a worse time. Boss, anyone?”

“Oh, right...” even One shuts up as Three’s ministrations cease, “Eight told me what happened.”

Grim silence spreads through the hive mind, making Gem clear her throat and speak up again.

“Ooookay, so I suppose no one has any ideas.”

“Sorry,” One shrugs, frowning, “I’m not much of healer, and from what I gathered, this isn’t something love or mind manipulation can solve. I can get into his mind, if it helps.”

“I don’t think this is something he can deal with on his own, pain or not,” Gem shakes her head, “However, I made some interesting discoveries when I studied the poison sample I got from an assassin who tried to kill miss Eight. I think I’m a pretty good field chemist and alchemist, but I’ve never seen anything like this before. This isn’t a poison or a venom, this is… well, under a really strong dwarven microscope it looked like really tiny creatures, no - machines, which adapt to their surroundings and destroy it. I tried using them on a drop of my blood, and even my changeling immune system couldn’t destroy them before they turned the blood into some unhealthy mess. It’s… not biological, that I’m sure of. The good news is that unlike other creatures, our adaptability, especially the fact that we can survive really high acidic factor of our blood, means that our immune system is actually fighting against those… things. The bad news is that it’s not enough, not even close.”

“I’m getting some mixed signals here, Four,” says Eight, “What are you getting at?”

“I think I can figure out a way to fight the ‘poison’, I just need another sample. The one I got came from the already covered blade, and it seems that it needs some special storage not to dissipate.”

“Dwarves don’t have any,” Eight shakes her head, “This came from the dark priests, and-”

“And those are all dead,” says Five, making Three whimper, “Someone called a Vigil massacred everyone resisting in their enclave deep underground.”

“Well, no resistance if we have to go there and look for another sample?” asks Gem.

Three starts crying.

“I did… Two… gone… I let them out...”

“Stop it this instant!” One levitates Three from her back to face him. To everyone’s surprise, Three goes quiet after a sniffle, fresh tears still streaming from his eyes, “Explain!”

“We… we… Six wanted a gift for Five… big diamond… so we snuck into the enclave to cut it, but then there was loud noise everywhere… and then we saw the fighting. Six wanted to get out… but I… I wanted to know what the bad guy who hurt miss Eight so bad was after… and then we found this big door Six knew about, and there was a talking statue, and when I hugged it… it said something nice, but a smaller door opened and these black… spindlies came out.. and then… then we tried to run...” he ends up looking at Five who sighs, “It’s all my fault...”

“Scream told me and Two what was going on, but when we arrived, those… spindlies, as Three called them, were just crawling out of some gate. I shot a grenade inside, Two used some crazy explosive magic as well, and then I closed the gate. Before, though, one of them managed to somehow… infect or transform Two. She cut herself off with a mental command, and ordered me to get Three and Six out. I don’t know what happened next.”

“I see… that’s why,” Gem frowns.

“Those things are called the Twisted,” says Eight, “I had a quick trip through Granite’s memories while I was trying to figure out more about the memory barriers Four here keeps making. So, Four, that’s why what?”

“I was linked up to Two, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible to figure out how things were down here, and I suddenly felt incredible chaos inside her. I was just busy trying to examine the boss and miss Eight when I felt some sort of mental command from her. It didn’t do much against my link, but… I hate to say it...” Gem lowers her head, “Two’s mind was almost gone when she threw herself from some huge bridge structure down into magma. Then even I lost contact.”

Everyone closes their eyes, and only Eight nods.

“I knew about it deep down, I think. While my body was barely surviving under Three’s ministrations, I was trying to spread my own love drain between him and Two. Unfortunately, Two got locked off few times, which I suppose was your doing, Four, right?”

“Mhm,” Gem nods.

“And when Two got it together, I didn’t want to overdraw our only changeling with command initiative. No offense to Five, Seven, or Three, but you’re better at obeying than on making up a new course of action. Two was very smart in that regard. I drained her through the hive mind only a little, trying to rely mostly on Three, but then I lost contact completely too. I didn’t know what exactly happened, but Two’s death was one of the possibilities,” Eight sighs, “Such waste of potential.”

One clears her throat.

“Ahem! While I like catching up, and despite time slowing down here as we expend energy to make it so, we’re doing EXACTLY what Gem here doesn’t want us to, which is wasting time talking. We know these Twisted things and this Vigil baddie are down there, but there’s also a thing there which might help save the boss. The question is - do we risk it for the biscuit?”

“I don’t want to live in a world without the boss. I don’t care if I die or transform into some walking black mucus spider horse in an attempt to save him,” Eight looks at Gem and One, “Don’t even insult me by asking.”

“I serve the hive,” Five salutes.

“I was living on borrowed time before I got killed,” says unusually serious Three, “Now that mister Wistful, miss Scream, and the boss helped me get back it’s true again. Besides, imagine how well I could hug with those long black legs? And two more too if I get lucky!”

Everyone chuckles, ignoring the fact that Three could just grow them on his own if he tried hard enough. They look at Gem who just tilts her head.

“Really? Let me paraphrase miss Eight - do you really have to ask? Although I’m not much of a fighter… kinda exactly the opposite. I can also stay here and try to ease the boss pain or something. I’ve got few ideas to try out since my last experiment with the ‘poison’.”

“Leave that to me, my little jewel,” One pats her head.

“Are you sure? I can-”

“Gem, I’ve taught you a lot of what I know. You might be one of the most mentally proficient changelings, if not the best one, Chryssie included. Don’t try to compare yourself to me, though. You’re few centuries too young for that. Besides, I actually GET OFF on pain. You go play with tentacles, I’ll go boost the boss’ morale.”

“Hey,” Eight furrows her brows, “Since you’re here, can’t you just stage a rebirth like before?”

“I certainly could, but you don’t have enough true love for that. Stitching a cocoon and possibly boss’ mind together in hopes for having to wait few more years for an uncertain rebirth under way more ghetto circumstances than before can’t be your thing anyway, Eight?”

“Plan B, maybe?” Eight raises an eyebrow.

One laughs.

“You know me by now, Eight. I don’t give anything for free. Plan Z more like.”

“ONE-!” Eight barks at the divine changeling who disconnects from the hive mind and her hive image disappears. In the real world, One teleports away as well before Eight can do anything.

The warrior knows the futility of arguing, though, and doesn’t pursue her despite knowing One would be in the boss’ suite, if not immediately, then soon enough.

Eight examines the changeling map of the underground. It seems that one of the dwarven tunnels leading from the place where she got destroyed by the Vigil has collapsed on Five, but the route down to the complex from the castle is still alright. They might find a route to use from down there, or if it’s completely locked off by the flooding seals then their exploration would at least be safe.

”Everyone, grab what you feel comfortable with. Tell Granite it’s an emergency if need be. Dwarves have some mining helmets which are enclosed. They’re trash for protection, but they might help if we get puked on,” she broadcasts the mental message while picking up pace.

”That might be counterproductive,” says Gem, ”The less stuff we carry with us, the better. I’m going to need my saddlebags with vials, and you can grab some weapons, but keep it to minimum. You can’t turn invisible like miss One and I can, but I can make potions which make us invisible and don’t let out any magical signature unlike spells. It doesn’t work on inanimate objects, though.”

”Alright then,” Eight turns around, much to the surprise of few guards scattered throughout the hallway, ”Take only what you need, and meet me at the ravine.”

As she pings a spot on the mental map, she feels everyone move.

”Shouldn’t we go get Seven and Six?” asks Five.

”Six wouldn’t be useful, I think. Seven might, but since we can’t waste time by gathering love and we’re not in the best shape other than One and Four- Gem, let’s leave them as they are. Besides, if everything fails, there will need to be someone to help the dwarves deal with the problems. I don’t suppose One here is willing to spend time here.”

”Without you, boss, and Gem? Hole no!” they can feel One roll her eyes just from her voice.

”There you have it.”

The hive is back, and it’s time to do all they can to save their boss.

***

”Okay, this is something...” the gathering group hear One’s speak in their heads, ”I’ve never seen someone in so much pain. Didn’t think it was possible without immediately frying their brain too, yet our little boss drone still seems… usable. Looks like a dry birch branch, though.”

”Can you really get through to him?” asks Eight.

”If there is still a ‘him’ to get to, then I can.”

”Then tell him we’re all waiting.”

”Sure, I’ll tell him you’re all sitting on your asses and WAITING!” One sneers, ”I won’t leave out that this Two changeling is dead, and that you were all begging me to save you.”

”One!”

”Oh shut up, I’m trying to work here,” One’s link disappears again.

Everyone has gathered at the deep ravine right above the long staircase leading into the depths, and they’re all waiting at Gem who has cut herself, and is mixing her shapeshifting blood into several vials. Short time later, she presents a corked one to each member of the expedition. Five stows away her grenade launcher, and grabs the drink. Three puts his own into a tiny hole in his leg. As it turns out, cup holders are just overgrown vial holders. Eight stops practicing sword swings, and uses Three’s example to hold her vial as well.

”Potions to prevent detection like I promised. They make you invisible, dampen noise, and make you intangible to scrying magic. Since we can communicate silently, we should be mostly safe unless whatever is down there has some strange senses. Wait, don’t drink them yet!” she stops Five already about to bite the cork, ”These doses can last for about an hour, but let’s not waste them in case we need to find a different route.”

Eight looks downwards where a glowing thread of a magma flow lights the distant darkness.

”Let’s not bother with stairs,” she spreads her wings, and jumps. Everyone follows, keeping their eyes peeled for any movement.

To their relief, they don’t meet or even hear any Twisted as they get down, enter the ancient tunnels, and eventually end up facing flooding seals blocking every known route to the dark priest enclave.

”Well then,” she pouts, ”I suppose a decision about our next step is in order. We know the last seal leads to the cave-in from where Seven somehow must have saved Six. I’ve got weird map update I don’t recall any of us making, so I suppose it was his doing. The first one is a detour, and this one should lead to a tunnel joining the more direct route.”

”Who’s to say there isn’t another cave-in behind this seal too?” asks Five.

”Three, will you?” Eight nods to the drone who taps his hooves against the sides of the tunnel, the floor, and in the end the metal of the seal itself.

”I don’t think there’s anything behind this door, at least not close. No echoes, no weird tremors, nothing,” Three shrugs.

”Alrighty then, let’s go in,” Gem grins, grows a sharp claw, and cuts the frog of her other foreleg. With her blood, she draws a circle on the seal. Contrary to normal changeling green, this blood looks much more like that of a normal pony, only quickly drying up and turning to sticky, rusty dust. She adds more and more until the circle is a thick line rather than a smear, and then waves her hoof at the others, ”Back off a bit, will you?” when everyone scoots a little, she pulls a lighter out of her small saddlebag, the only one she opted to take in addition to her belt of vials, and moves the fire to the drawn circle which immediately sparks and lights up with bright, white, hissing fire.

Gem backs off as well, looks away, and chuckles.

”Tank, DPS, healer, and a mage. Classic. All we need is a good thief for disarming traps. I could almost believe we’re back in the old Castle of Two Sisters, but this time as the adventuring party.”

”I could hug the old me!” Three brightens up.

”Tank, what-DP-what?” Eight furrows her brows, ”What are you talking about?”

”Ogres and Oubliett- eh, nevermind,” Gem waves her hoof, realizing that this is no time nor the place to explain the finer points of a proper dungeon-crawling party structure.

”Wait, are you the mage? You can do MAGIC? That’s so cool!” Three stares at Gem in reverence, ”Seven will be so happy when he meets you. He was working on spells that shoot big, exploding cubes of fire.”

”Umm, well, I’m not the big balls of fire kind of mage, nor cubes for that matter,” Gem blushes a little, ”I really don’t like hurting anyone, but I’m good with potions.”

”She distills a MEAN moonshine from old socks,” One reconnects to the group, revealing that she was listening all along, ”That thing SLAYS! An if boss wanted some more cocaine, she can-”

”I’M NOT A DRUG DEALER, MISS ONE!” retorts Gem heatedly.

”Could have fooled me. I mean, not many alchemists can make changeling venom versions of ecstasy, coke, LSD-”

”Occasionally, AND ONLY FOR FRIENDS!”

”Said the rich changeling who supplies most of the Royal Guard these days right under Sunslut’s nose. I’m not complaining, since your venom makes them horny at the same time, it’s just more house calls for me.”

Gem pouts.

”In my defense, I made a lot of genuine friends in the Royal Guard, and I sell my stuff only for parties or micro doses for guards on back to back shifts.”

”Hey, she once slipped a little something into Sunbutt’s cake which got her so fucked up that she tied Ten to herself under her belly with his head between her thighs, and then flew to Manehattan and back in one night.”

”IT WAS TEN’S BIRTHDAY! That doesn’t count,” Gem is now approaching tomato levels of red without any shapeshifting. Might need the invisibility potion to hide that first.

”She noticed him only the next day in the bathtub when he started drowning!” One’s now laughing her ass off, ”Best birthday present ever. Say, if we ever decide to start a business on the surface again, we’re doing THAT.”

”What’s a birthday?” asks Three.

”THAT is the part you’re interested in?” asks One in disbelief.

”Mhm,” Three nods, undisturbed.

”It’s a day on which a pony was born, and they celebrate it every year. It’s like the day when you either hatched or when your larva turned into a changeling. We changelings don’t really have a thing like that.”

”Mostly because there weren’t that many who survived for longer than a year...” mutters One.

”So, changelings can’t have birthdays and get presents?” asks Three, his ears drooping.

”Sure we can,” Gem pats his head, ”I just added a week to the date of the changeling invasion of Canterlot, which is about right-ish, and I’ve been celebrating it for four years already.”

”So… if I pick today, and count up every day to… a lot, and don’t lose count halfway… I can get a present?” asks Three, trying to grasp the foreign concept.

”Oh, you don’t have to remember that. Ponies have numbers and names for each day, plus calendars.”

”I know what those are! I had one in my coloring book once. They’re like these big heads with tentacles, right?”

”That’s a calamari, I think. No, calendar is a paper list of all days and months in the year, so if you know when your birthday is, you can just see what day is today without having to count yourself.”

”Ohhhhh...”

”Huh, come to think of it, we haven’t really needed to measure time unless on a mission,” Eight hums.

Their internal conversation is interrupted by a loud thud as a thick, burned out disc from the flooding seal drops on the floor, leaving behind a still glowing rim of a hole.

”And they say jet fuel can’t melt steel beams,” Gem grins, ”On top of that, no cave-in anywhere in sight. Down the potions, and let’s move.”

30: High-tech solutions to spindly problems.

View Online

They rush forward, everyone's eyes peeled. One empty corridor later, Eight has to nod her head, and acknowledge Gem's alchemy skill.

"I can't see nor hear us at all. This is amazing and horrifying at the same time."

Thankfully, communication which wouldn't reveal them is no problem for changelings.

"During my first months in Canterlot, I wasn't even allowed to go around the block unaccompanied, which wasn't exactly a problem for me, but miss One got bored very quickly, so she started teaching me the much more advanced infiltrator strategies and methods of moving around undetected."

"I had no idea One had any interest in potions," Eight sounds genuinely surprised, although she keeps her ears peeled for anything, "Didn't she always say that focusing on too many things will make you useless at everything?"

"What? No!" Gem pauses for a second, "I mean, she does refuse wasting too much time on anything unrelated to body control or biology, but she does have vested basic interest in pretty much everything."

"Waaaaaaaaaaaait..." Eight shoots a glance at Gem, "What do you mean by One getting bored during your first months in Canterlot? Four? Four? Fuck!" she realizes the whole group has stopped, completely ignoring Eight's question.

Sitting by the wall ahead is a creature which can't be any other than a Twisted. They all sense a stab of panic from Five who is the only one who got a clear look at a Twisted up close before. It is vaguely equine, but its head looks as if it had been split in two some time in the past. From the wound, black worms occasionally drop on the floor where they get snatched by tentacles wrapped around the Twisted's legs, and absorbed back into the body.

The dripping eyeballs turn with a squelch, and the abomination starts carefully walking towards the group.

"Get ready to evaporate that thing before it can do anything!" is Eight's mental message.

"No!" opposes Five, "I apologize for my insubordination-"

"Don't waste time with apologies, Five. Speak!" Eight barks at her.

"These Twisted didn't look too smart to me. I think if this one knew we were here, it would be already attacking. Maybe it's just curious about your flying sword, Three’s helmet, my grenade launcher, and miss Gem's vials and backpack?"

Eight ponders that for a second. It's a good suggestion. If Gem's potions are working as intended, the changelings shouldn't be possible to detect by any senses other than unnaturally excellent hearing which could overcome both the potion's sound dampening effect and the changeling's transformed hooves. Or some kind of echolocation, maybe.

Despite her self-control, Eight can't stifle the quietest of angry growls at the shared memory of what they did to Two. The Twisted immediately focuses on the sword sheathed on the side of her neck.

"Alright, let's do it Five's way. If we even think it's going to attack or do anything... infection-y, the target jumps back and we spit acid. That's an order, don't argue."

In complete physical and mental silence, the jerky advance of the Twisted stops by the side of barely breathing Eight. It glares at the sword, as far as Eight can tell, but doesn't do anything. Experimentally, Eight takes few steps forward. The Twisted doesn't react in any way other than turning its head to follow the floating weapon.

With their heads turning from the Twisted to the corridor forward, the group pass the first threat and continue towards the dark priest Enclave.

"Good idea, Five."

"Thank you, queen."

”Excellent potion work, Gem,” Eight doesn’t forget her either.

”I know,” Gem just grins, which sadly no one can see.

”You know, we could just clear the Twisted out like this,” says Eight, ”They wouldn’t know what hit them. Especially with Five’s grenade launcher.”

”I’m not sure if that would be a good idea...” mumbles Three.

”We can’t make friends with everyone, Three.”

”I… I know that… but we can with almost everyone. Miss Scream said that that Vigil baddie was able to adapt to anything that wouldn’t kill him outright, so if he wanted the spindlies out, they might be connected, and if we let someone escape, they all might come back stronger than before. They have some hive mind too.”

”Hmmm...” the group, having passed several faintly curious Twisted, enter the dark priest enclave, ”Interesting train of thought. Alright, let’s not do anything unless they attack us. Besides, time we spend fighting is time we’re not spending by looking for the poison samples.”

”True. Woooow… I haven’t even read about architecture like this,” Gem’s eyes go wide in wonder as she examines the pristine white walls of the enclave, only occasionally covered in splatters of blood, scratches, or gooey remnants of a Twisted, ”Let’s stay safe and avoid stepping into those.”

It’s Five who has the presence of mind to stop Gem’s curiosity from slowing them down too much.

”Three, where do we start looking? Or do we have to search this place from top to bottom?”

”I only know the route to the workshops,” Three shrugs, then grins, ”Miss Scream? MISS SCREEEEEAAAAM!”

A burning portal clearly visible only to the changelings appears on the wall nearby, and the requested golden alicorn steps through, much to Gem’s gasp. Thankfully, there aren’t any Twisted around to hear it.

”Did someone just take the demigoddess’ name in vain?” Scream smiles. Her smile freezes instantly when she looks around and realizes where the group are, ”Wait, why in my infinitely hospitable holes are you back here?”

”We need a translator, miss Scream,” Three takes charge.

”Do I look like a dictionary to you, hug bug?” Scream pouts, but there’s no apparent anger in her voice.

”I’m pretty sure there’s a dick in you somewhere, yes,” Eight jumps in, ”Now can we haul ass?”

”Heeeey, it’s the world’s biggest and buggest fleshlight. It’s good that you’re back, punch bug,” Scream frowns suddenly, looking at Gem, ”Huh, you feel familiar for some reason.”

Gem tilts her head as Scream walks around her, examining her with a thoughtful expression.

”Alright, can someone enlighten me as to why there is a mental projection of an alicorn here?”

”Long story,” Eight waves her foreleg, ”She’s been equally helpful and annoying, but she helped boss give Three a new body, so we tolerate her.”

”Now that is something that deserves respect. Thank you very much, miss Scream,” Gem bows.

”See, punch bug? Finally someone with proper manners,” Scream sniffs a vial on a belt around Gem’s chest, ”Hah, got it! Drug bug.”

”My name is Gem, miss Scream.”

Eight pats Gem’s back.

”Don’t bother. You’re drug bug now. Learn to live with it until she gets bored with us and leaves.”

”My question still stands, why are you down here again?” Scream taps her hoof against the floor impatiently.

”We need to find another poison sample to possibly cure the boss,” Gem quickly recaps their goal, ”The best chance is that it’s down here, but we’ve got no way to find out where to go.”

”Oh, I see. You need me to translate that big, flashing sign reading ‘Onwards to poison’,” Scream points at the distant wall.

There’s nothing there.

”Oooh, ooooh,” Three jump up and down, ”Is there the invisible red writing like before?”

”No, I was being… nevermind,” Scream facehoofs, ”So, you need something like a laboratory.”

”We need… down,” Eight furrows her brows, ”Granite spent some time here, and I think he read something about some research. I don’t think we need to search the top floors. We need to go down.”

”As good a direction as any,” Scream shrugs, ”I faintly recall some stairs being behind the central park.”

Nothing could have prepared Gem for the sight awaiting her as they leave the corridor which opens into the burned central park. Black, rotting corpses are strewn everywhere, some partially burned or liquified and in the process of changing into more Twisted. The stench is overwhelming, and while the others have absorbed at least some experience from Three’s and Six’s diamond adventure, Gem gags.

Hundreds of Twisted crawling over the walls, railings, and the ceiling up ahead turn their heads around to look at the single ‘empty’ point in space.

”Uh oh...” Five raises her grenade launcher.

Like a black, dripping tide, the Twisted lurch forward.

-There is nothing here.-

In the wake of the mental command, the Twisted stop, and the entire area goes quiet again.

”L-Let’s go,” Gem lets out a shaky mental whisper.

With Scream and Three leading the way through the park, Five can’t stop herself from giving Gem a look of wonder.

”You… you can control all of them? Are you really the queen’s brood?”

”Miss Eight is my mom, and the boss is my dad,” says Gem, silently trotting along, ”But my teacher was miss One who used to be the best infiltrator in the old hive, better at mental stuff even than queen Chrysalis herself… at least that’s what she said. To be honest, I’ve never had any way to compare myself to anyone since miss One left, so I don’t know how good I am,” she glances upwards at the silent Twisted, ”I can feel their linked minds. They are simple, extremely so. Even less than animals. If we draw their attention directly, I won’t be able to stop something as single-minded as they are, but as long as they don’t know we’re here, I think I can keep them off of our backs. So, don’t bump into one, and we might be okay.”

***

”You know, the more I see of this place, the more certain I am that this really did use to be a prison,” says Scream after over an hour of walking through the enclave and the group taking a second dose of Gem’s invisibility potion each, ”At first, I was guessing, but I’m pretty sure now.”

At this point, it’s somewhat clear that there aren’t any dwarves alive down here anymore. Thankfully, it seems that in absence of targets to attack, the Twisted don’t move around too much, which is a faint glimmer of hope for Brauheim.

As they descend down onto what is the bottom floor, at least according to the ending stairs and Scream’s translation of the symbols meaning ‘BF0’, Eight nods.

”Granite’s memories showed me some mentions in the translations he did. I think some of those also said something about experiments on the prisoners underground.”

”Under-underground,” mutters Five, slinking past a seemingly asleep Twisted.

”The translations mentioned something about some Living End project,” Eight works through the darker corners of her brief trip inside Granite, ”Something related to some great weapon. There must be something useful down here. I refuse to believe this is just some storage space for food and resources,” she peeks into an open room which is completely devoid of anything, ”Although it looks like that so far.”

”Well, considering the Silversmiths are all gone, I think calling their research ‘useful’ might be an overstatement,” sneers Scream.

”AH HAH!” Three sniffs the air, and then bolts forward into the maze of tunnels. After a quick exchange of glances, everyone follows. The quick chase ends with Three staring at a shelf filled with crystalline vials of brown liquid which seems to swirl on its own despite any interference, ”These smell like boss’ wound!”

”Good nose!” Eight takes a deep whiff. Three must have been by boss’ side for so long he could catch the scent better than she did. That, or he’s a magical superdrone who will eventually become a changeling overlord sending his minions to hug the world in order to make everyone feel better. At this point it’s a fifty-fifty, ”Gem, got what you need?”

Gem takes a sample, examines its contents and grins. After quick retrospection, she grabs all she can fit into the vial holster on her chest.

”Just in case,” she explains, ”Also, these vials aren’t glass, but they don’t react with chemicals as well, and they are much harder. Even if I don’t use the poison, I can always find use for sturdier travelling gear.”

”Alright, we’ve got what we came for,” says Eight, ”Let’s not push our luck further, and get out.”

”Wait waitwaitwaitwait!” Three taps his hoof against the floor, then peeks outside to see if there aren’t any Twisted coming. When he sees he’s safe, he jumps up and down.

The noise is echoed by distant tapping this time, making him freeze.

”WHAT do you think you’re doing?!” asks Eight.

Three stands on his hind legs, and presses his forelegs against a wall at a dead end of the corridor.

”There’s something behind this wall, miss Eight. Sounds echo weird in this place.”

”Gem, can you deal with the Twisted coming this way?” Eight looks at the changeling in the back.

”Yes, I can. They’re suspicious, but not directly engaged yet,” Gem nods.

The distant approaching noises stop, and Gem wipes her forehead.

”Done. They’re a bit confused why they were walking this way in the first place, but they aren’t moving anymore.”

Three runs around after pushing against the unmoving wall. Soon, Eight can’t take it, and gives it a shot herself. It doesn’t move, nor does it give any indication that it might move when even more force is applied. Scream, seemingly undisturbed by the changeling antics and unbothered by their invisibility, finishes examining the ceiling with a thoughtful hum.

”There is a thin slit here,” she says.

”I thought it was one of the air vents,” Three nods, ”There’s one like this above most of the doors in this place.”

”Yeah, the thing is that I can’t feel any flow of air.”

”Maybe whatever was powering those shut down when the dark priests got mangled?” Five hazards a guess.

”Nah,” Scream shakes her head, ”This is Silversmith stuff. It doesn’t need operators. They built things to LAST.”

”Lemme look, then!” Three bounces up and down under the slit with no effect, ”Miss Eight, can I climb on you?”

Now, the changelings have a vague idea where each one is, but climbing atop each other while invisible and inaudible is an exercise in clownery. Too bad only the maniacally laughing alicorn nearby can see it in its full glory. Eventually, though, Three is successfully standing on probably Eight’s back, and as soon as he looks up at the slit, it beeps.

“...uhh, hello…?” Three whispers into the slit.

”Oh my,” Scream’s eyes go wide as she sees rays of energy probably invisible even to the changelings envelop Three, and then stop on the helmet he’s wearing.

“Efess thau,” says a voice coming from the ceiling at a volume of normal conversation.

”Access granted,” translates the alicorn.

With a hiss, a section of the suspicious wall slides to the side, disappearing and showing a corridor sloping downwards.

“...thank you...” Three waves at the slit, then jumps down.

”Move, explanations later!” hisses Gem, ”They’re coming to see what the voice was. Forcing them away now that they’re alarmed would do more harm than good.”

The first Twisted’s spidery legs grip the corner of the corridor behind the group, and a toothy head peeks from behind it, examining the area. The group need no further persuasion to rush into the unknown.

”That’s the dwarf king’s helmet, right?” asks Scream, checking the hallway behind them. The Twisted are out of sight, but no one can say whether they’ve stopped, or whether they’re following.

”Mhm,” Three nods, ”Boss let me keep it. Mister Granite was against it at first, but boss insisted. It wouldn’t fit him, because he’s a dwarf anyway. It’s a bit too big.”

”Yeeeeah… I wonder why...” Scream narrows her eyes.

As they run forward, another quiet beep stops them, and a section of the wall to the left slides away, this time without a word. With a shrug, Eight peeks into a hexagonal room which looks exactly like the antechamber of the seal which kept Twisted locked away. It seems that long hallways and these kinds of room were standard issue for Silversmith building design. A hexagonal door is directly opposite the entrance.

”Have Three go first,” says Scream, ”I think those dwarves are dumb enough to keep a Silversmith helmet as a religious artefact instead of figuring out how to copy it. It might prevent us from triggering an alarm or something.”

Eight slows down and waits until Three is leading the way. The drone enters the room along with Scream, and the other door opens.

”Alright, let’s go!” orders Eight.

As soon all changelings are inside the room, and Eight steps under another scanning slit, loud sirens start blaring everywhere. In the next instant, silver rain covers the entire area, coating the changelings in glittering goo rendering their invisibility potions useless.

[ASSER INDERZEN]

”Invisible intruders,” yells Scream, translating on request.

Gem feels the hive mind of the Twisted move as one.

”THEY’RE COMING!”

No one needs further explanation. As they rush into the corridor further into the depths, Gem turns around to see if any Twisted are already nearby, and notices a blinking panel next to the open door. She jumps towards it, and starts poking various pictures made of light on it.

“COME ON!” yells Eight, deciding that hive mind communication is a waste of energy at this point.

“I can close it, I think!” says Gem’s silvery silhouette with legs invisible from the shins down.

A Twisted jumps into the room, and as soon as it spots the unknown, glittering, equine-like form ahead, it pounces at her. Unfortunately for it, Eight punches the control panel of the door in front of Gem, and the door forcefully shuts, crushing the Twisted but leaving it cracked open.

“Got the keys right here,” Eight waves her hoof, and smacks Gem over the head, “Now hurry!”

The deeper part of the complex doesn’t seem too big, as the corridor the changelings are in ends quickly in a T-section with a door in the middle. The left route is identical to any Silversmith corridor before, but the right route quickly widens. Unceremoniously, Eight grabs Three by his barrel and shoves him right to the ceiling.

[AMAR FEIN]

The door remains closed.

”Insufficient rank,” translates Scream, and reads the writing by the wall, ”Restricted area. Huh, this place looks important.”

“Five, let’s try some lateral lockpicking! Gem, take the left path and see what’s down there. Three, Scream, have a look to the right. If the Twisted come, it’s better that they meet us first,” Eight barks out orders, and immediately punches the door. Five joins in, kicking it shortly after.

Three doesn’t wait for anything, and runs off. The wide corridor ends up in a ramp slightly sloping down towards a door three times bigger than any seen before. Thankfully, it beeps and opens as soon as Three gets near.

”Ooooh, armory,” Scream grins, ”That sounds fun.”

The room behind the door is MASSIVE. It could easily swallow the entire old Canterlot house. Three runs off to a ton of tubular things hanging one above each other in rows on the wall, and grabs the nearest one.

“What’s this?” Three points the narrower end of the thing at the wall.

”Looks gun-y,” Scream examines it, ”This would be a hoof trigger,” she shows Three a button-like thing on the side with a metal holder into which his hoof fits, ”And I’m sure this is the front,” she points towards one side of the weapon ending in a circle made of much smaller tubes.

Three clicks the trigger several times, but nothing happens.

“We must be missing something,” he says, shoving the huge weapon on his back, “I like making friends more than shooting anyway.”

”Then I think you’ll love this,” Scream teleports to the opposite end of the room where there are few things which look like massive metal ponies which would snugly fit into the Silversmith corridors.

The pony doesn’t react when Three approaches. The drone, however, notices sort of steps built into one of the pony’s forelegs, and climbs up onto its back. Everything is made of the same shiny metal as the walls, but near the pony’s neck there are four indentations as well as a short line of softer padding. Three lies on it, and puts his legs into the indentations to hug the huge, mechanical pony.

“Hey, this looks like it was made for me!” he giggles.

Floating screens made of light appear in a half-circle in front of Three. Scream swims through the air towards him, and translates the big line of text on the central screen.

”Enter a login and a password, or use an authentication token.”

Three lowers his helmet to the screen, and the line changes.

”Welcome, number 30554892.”

“IT KNOWS ME!” Three claps his hooves together, beaming like a lighthouse, both metaphorically and literally due to his runes, “Miss Scream, what do I push now?”

“A variant of common language detected,” a raspy voice comes from the the machine, “Species - changeling. Switching to voice activation. How may this unit assist you?”

“EEEEP! IT TALKS!” squees Three, giving in to his primal instinct of ‘when in doubt, hug’.

A shimmering barrier envelopes him as he lays on the machine’s back.

”Energy shield to protect the operator,” says Scream, ”This is some kind of a Silversmith mech. I faintly recall that they did use them to defend some of their main hubs. You can’t use these in normal underground due to the size.”

”EVERYONE, THE TWISTED ARE AT THE T-SECTION!” Three hears Eight’s voice, ”FIVE AND I GOT THROUGH THE DOOR, AND WE’VE MANAGED TO CLOSE IT BEHIND US. AS FAR AS WE CAN TELL, THIS IS SOME STRANGE LABORATORY, AND THERE’S THIS WEIRD FLOATING SCREEN SHOWING WHAT’S GOING ON OUTSIDE. THEY ARE SPREADING OUT. HOW ARE THINGS ON YOUR END?”

A quick image flickers through the minds of everyone, showing Gem surrounded by more delicate mechanical ponies of normal sizes who look like the one Three met right before they released the Twisted. These guys don’t talk or move, though.

”This place looks like some kind of living quarters, but the only things here are these machines,” says Gem, ”I made some more useful potions, plus some soap so I’m invisible again. Don’t worry about me, I’m the safest one here. I didn’t get anything useful, though,” her message and mental images end with her sneaking between three Twisted walking through a door leading to Gem’s place, ”I think Three is in the worst spot.”

”Damn it!” curses Eight, ”Three, just hide for now. We’ll think of a way to get to you. There’s some protective gear here, so it might help with staying uninfected.”

”Okay, miss Eight. Just be careful so that none of you end up like Two,” replies Three.

As he wants to pull his legs out of the indentations, mechanical contraptions lock them in place.

“Hey, lemme go!” he hisses.

“Multiple Twisted signatures approaching. Leaving is inadvisable,” drones the mech.

“Yeah, that’s the baddies! We gotta leave before they eat us and make us eat our friends,” Three considers shapeshifting into something smaller to get out.

“Use manual controls, commander.”

“I’m Three. Nice to meet you!”

“Accepting designation. Awaiting input, Three.”

“I don’t know what to do! What do I push? HOW do I push when my legs are locked in?”

“Deactivating manual controls. Engaging assisted mode. Awaiting orders.”

“Umm… walk?” says Three.

The mech straightens up a little before-

*Thud!* *Thud!* *Thud!*

-walking around the room in a less than sneaky fashion.

“I WILL CALL YOU STOMPY!” yells Three, both ecstatic and scared. The first Twisted lunge through the open gate, their eyes immediately locking on Stompy turning to face them, “Aaah! The baddies are here. Stompy, we gotta get out!”

“Clearing exit path,” panels on the top of the mech’s forelegs slide away.

Jets of fire incinerate the first incoming Twisted as Stompy starts walking towards the gate, cleansing hellfire sending Twisted scampering away. In his protective energy bubble, Three barely feels any heat coming his way.

“They’re really mad!” says Three, “Huh, maybe they just need a hug.”

Stompy locks his hind legs in place, raises his torso, grabs the nearest Twisted, and crushes it into paste between the hooves of his forelegs.

“Target hugged. All hostility disappeared,” announces Stompy, returning to all fours.

“You. Are. The. Best!” Three grins from ear to ear.

“Now go straight forward to the closed lab door,” Three realizes he can’t point, so he nods his head ahead.

The Twisted scatter away from Stompy’s flamethrowers and laser artillery which obliterates the closest ones, leaving only scorched piles of flesh.

Scorched piles of flesh which bubble as they slowly regenerate and reshape back into horrifying burning skeletons. Only the ones crushed and properly burnt afterwards stay dead, leaving a wake of slowly recovering enemies behind Three. However, they don’t seem too eager to attack again.

As such, Stompy and Three soon reach the T-section, and the mech points his back to the lab door and front to the hesitant main mass of the Twisted.

“Invisible target detected,” another panel, this time on Stompy’s side slides away, opening a row of nozzles to the side corridor which Gem was exploring.

”Whoa whoa whoa whoa, WHAT THE HOLE IS THAT?!” Three feels Gem gasp and back off.

“That’s Four, Stompy. She’s super nice. I remember her being tiny and spindly, and she’s now got all the bits stallions like. I know what they are for now, because miss Eight showed me-”

“Designation - ally,” Stompy interrupts Three’s recap of Four’s life by a barrage of lasers which each miss Gem and shred two Twisted behind her returning to see what’s going on here. The invisible changeling trots under Stompy, taking cover between his legs.

Four sets of claws start opening the laboratory door behind Stompy in a shower of sparks, revealing Eight and Five under her. They choke when they see Tompy in his full size, much to Three’s pride.

“Multiple changeling signatures detected within the restricted area,” reports Stompy.

“They’re all friends, Stompy. I’ll tell you all about them later, they’re awesome,” Three twists around in his imprisoned state to smile at the incoming duo, “Miss Eight, Five, this is Stompy, he’s my new friend. He likes making new friends too,” Three sighs, “I wish the spindly guys were our friends too.”

“Lighting fires of friendship,” announces Stompy. In the next moment, a small, glowing, red ball shoots out of his mouth, landing between the Twisted who back off. When nothing happens, the swarm around the ball.

*Whoosh!*

Like a gust of wind, almost liquid fire erupts in the hallway, turning it into a tunnel of flames and screeching which hurts to look at. Eight and Five use the moment to get out of the laboratory. Five is carrying some sort of a big, white device on her back what looks like a short beam with straps on the bottom. In the back, green, pulsating glow is reflecting off of the wall.

Seeing the back-mounted thingy, Three remembers the similar, only rounder, weapon on his own chitin.

“Hey, Stompy, what’s the thing on my back?”

“LGT three-sixty - a side-mounted laser gatling turret. Unlocking.”

The weapon on Three’s back beeps. Three realizes his forelegs have been freed, and throws it to Five.

“Five, catch. I think it’s a shooty gun!”

“I like the gun part,” Five gives her own device to Eight who puts it on her back, “Side-mounted, did you say, metal thing?”

“Mount on the side of the barrel, extend the telescopic leg on the bottom, aim and operate with a foreleg,” explains Stompy.

Five fumbles with it for a moment, and soon gets the hang of it, pulls out a long metal tube from the bottom all the way to the floor, aims at the hesitating Twisted in the side corridor, and pulls the hoof trigger similar to the one on her grenade launcher.

A barrage of lasers obliterates the creature.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!” Five laughs like a madpony, “No recoil, one-eighty degrees of energy-based doom! If Six wanted my undying love, he should have gotten me THIS from here, not some silly rock.”

With the Twisted retreating back to both side tunnels and the chemically smelling fire ahead dying down, Eight sees their chance and calls out:

“We’re leaving while the bastards are scared. Go go go!”

Five packs her mobile laser turret back, deciding that her dwarven grenade launcher will be much more useful for running, although the loss in firepower brings a tear to her eye. With Three repeating the order to Stompy, they all follow the mech back the way they originally came.

“Hey, Stompy,” yells Eight again, “What’s the thing on my back? We took it from the lab. It looked important, being on a central pillar and all.”

“Living End project detail not found. General specification - back-mounted weapon, requires senior rank to operate, no override allowed, do not use in enclosed spaces, stay out of the way. Effects - unknown.”

Pushing through the enclave corridors with Stompy in front is much easier than any of the changelings could expect in their wildest dreams. Defending the back is a lot more difficult due to the need to keep the Twisted at a distance, but Five’s grenade launcher does a valiant job as long as ammo lasts.

*Click!*

“Uh oh,” says Five.

“Come on, we’re near the central park, and we must have chewed through a hundred of the damn things. Twice in a lot of cases,” growls Eight.

Gem grows a claw, cuts her foreleg, and within few seconds gives Five two filled vials.

“That’s the best I can do while moving,” she says, “Throw them both when they recover and group up.”

“Why don’t you do that?” asks Five, “I mean no subordination, but only you know what you just made.”

“My hoof-eye coordination isn’t the greatest, trust me. The fact that I haven’t tripped in all this rush yet is a small miracle in itself. Remember, they need to both break, or it will be useless.”

“Alright,” Five simply nods.

They can almost see the vast expanse of the central park, vast at least in comparison to the claustrophobic tunnels filled with the Twisted. Before they can get into the wide open area, the Twisted realize that another fire grenade isn’t on the way, and charge towards the changelings.

Five waits… and waits… and waits...

...and throws.

At first, everyone’s ears pop as the chemicals incinerate all air in an area now filled with Twisted almost instantly with a thunderclap. Next, the created vacuum slurps the nearest lump of enemies together. And finally, the other chemical ignites, spreading blue and green flames through the air as more and more oxygen further away burns, fueled by the fire spreading over the new and resurrected Twisted deeper in the tunnels. The screaming and screeching is deafening, but it has nothing on the cacophony of noise from ahead.

They have finally reached the central park. Only a short distance is left before they’re out of the enclave.

Unfortunately…

Like before, the whole wide open area is teeming with Twisted as if all the slaughter the changelings have gone through didn’t make a dent in their numbers.

They’re all glaring at the mouth of the tunnel from which the changelings have just stepped out.

“Damn, I thought there would be a lot less of them...” Eight breathes out in disbelief.

“Umm, Stompy? That’s a lot of spindlies...” mumbles Three.

“Combat in an open area is highly inadvisable,” says the mech.

“But we need to get back home, and they’re blocking the only way!”

“Deployment of critical countermeasures required. Rank sufficient,” as Stompy says that, the large weapon on Eight’s back starts humming, “Use the Living End project device.”

“That thing?” asks Three who finds all his legs unlocked.

“Yes. You have been marked for a field promotion into rank - High-General. Strap the weapon on your back. The narrower end goes to the front.”

“Miss E-” before Three can finish his request, Eight is already standing atop Stompy and strapping Three under the big weapon.

“It has something to do with your helmet,” she pats Three’s head, “This one’s on you, Three. Make boss and me proud,” she jumps off.

Three stands up on all fours, swaying a little under the weight of the heavy weapon.

Finally, the Twisted start crawling towards them like a black tide covering the walls, the floor, and the ceiling.

“Taunt required for maximum badass,” announces Stompy, and a black pad opens where the mech operator’s head would be, “Speak directly into the microphone.”

“Hey, spindlies- MY EARS! OWOWOWOW!”

Three clutches his head as his many times amplified voice makes even the Twisted pause for a heartbeat.

The Twisted charge.

“Fire,” says Stompy, and Three obediently pushes the side button on the weapon.

It starts humming louder.

“Stompy, I don’t think it does anyth-”

*Whommmmmmmm!*

A glowing green ball of pulsating energy shoots out of the weapon at the pace of a slow trot, and expands into the rough size of Three. The force of the blast propels Three backwards off of Stompy’s back and straight onto his butt.

“Oww...” Three rubs his backside before looking ahead. His eyes go wide, and his jaw drops.

The casually forward travelling projectile is letting out arcing green lightning into all directions, frying Twisted who are dropping like flies.

Correction - pieces of whom are dropping like flies. Some evaporate in the air.

“Whhh… whaaaa… nngh...” Three stares at the devastation he wrought.

“GO GO GO!” yells Eight, “GO! NOW!”

“I… I… what did I do…?” tears start welling in Three’s eyes at the slaughter as he whimpers, “They… they’re all gone. They had those long legs… so good for… They were made to hug... and I… I did… I… I k-k-killed-”

“YOU JUST SENT THEM TO REMEDIAL FRIENDSHIP CAMP!” Eight grabs him, putting the drone and the still hot weapon on her back, “THEY WERE SO HAPPY TO GO THAT THEY JUST FORGOT TO PACK SOME STUFF… like legs… or heads...”

Three cheers up instantly.

“You mean they’ll come back as friends?!”

“Yeah, sure. I would,” Eight rolls her eyes, galloping forward. The projectile is dissipating, but there’s no threat ahead anymore.

“YAY! I’VE GOT A WORKING BIG FRIENDSHIP GUN!” Three hugs Eight’s back harder.

“Just be a good drone, and don’t even think about ever using it on someone who already is your friend, deal?” Gem chuckles nervously, “Or who isn’t directly hostile… or in any civilized area.”

“Sure thing, Four- I mean, Gem!”

And so they run. The bedrock tunnels outside the enclave are big enough for Stompy, revealing the true purpose behind their size. Even the Silversmith corridors leading all the way to the lower magma stream where Eight almost met her doom are alright, and same goes for the hexagonal pad right above the burning magma.

The stairs leading up the side of the crevasse, however, are obviously not made for Stompy.

“We can’t leave Stompy down here!” objects Three when he realizes there’s no way the mech can ever get up, “He’s my friend!”

“No use of the B-F-G necessary,” Stompy nods.

“We might be able to carry him up,” Eight looks upwards at the distant cliff edge lost in the darkness, “We’re low on love, but this should be a worthwhile use for it.”

“Jetpack ready,” announces Stompy, “Please, specify destination.”

“Wut?” Three blinks, and points up, “We need to get up there!”

Loud humming starts from Stompy’s hooves, and the mech begins slowly floating upwards.

Eight and Four exchange glances, then shrug.

”Silversmith design,” Scream flies past, ”It just works, and it works well.”

However, the tunnel leading up to the castle isn’t of Silversmith design, it’s dwarven. Several pony lengths in, the tunnel narrows down to dwarf size, letting changelings in, but leaving Stompy unable to progress even despite clamping his legs together and lowering at the knees.

“Damn it...” Eight punches the wall, more in frustration at her own mistake in not realizing this was going to happen than the situation itself, “This is a problem. The monsters will follow us here, and the dwarves have no idea what they’re against. Stompy, can you stay here and protect this passage while we figure out how to get you here?”

“My systems will disengage automatically after a short time period without an operator. It’s a failsafe against A.I. going haywire,” explains Stompy. Not that the changelings understand much, but Gem has heard about the term artificial intelligence. Come to think of it, there used to be a mechanical pony in Canterlot similar in design to those in the sleeping quarters at the lab. Now’s not a good time to ponder it, though.

Gem claps her hooves together.

“Three, I need to borrow your head.”

“Sure.”

Unlike others, Gem can use all senses and experience of Three’s body to their full potential, and after stomping around, she marks the wide tunnel mouth in several places.

“Miss Eight, punch these places in the pointed out order. Don’t hold back,” she says when she returns fully into her own body.

Eight does as she’s told, watching cracks spread with each blow. When the final punch lands, the tunnel starts to crumble, and Eight returns deeper inside to the others. A moment later, ceiling collapses, sealing the route to the crevasse off completely, and leaving Stompy stuck in very small space, covered in dust but without even a scratch.

Three sure knows his droning. Gem grins, and pats the brass spike poison vials on the belts crossing her chest.

“Let’s go, we’re almost home,” says Eight.

“We’ll be back for you, Stompy!” Three waves at the mech who flashes his front lights in response, “I promise!”

“Entering standby mode.”

31: All this effort, all this pain...

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“Mister Granite! Mister Granite! Mister Granite-”

The loremaster adjusts his sleeping helmet as the incessant repetition of his name wakes him up. The pair of glowing blue eyes and lines of multiple purple runes jumping up and down in his castle suite after he fell asleep would be a cause of concern...

“-Mister Granite! Mister Granite! Mister Granite-”

...if it wasn’t Three, bouncing on the floor like a slinky on cocaine.

“-Mister Granite! Mister Granite! Mister Gr-”

“Mhmghh… yes? What’s wrong?” asks the dwarf with growing certainty that something bad must have happened.

“Myfriend’sstuckandIcan’tgethimout!Weneedtomakeabiggertunnel,butit’sinthecastle,soweneedtoknockdownsomewallsand-”

“Slow down, Three...” Granite groans as he sits up, “Who is stuck where?”

“My friend Stompy helped us down in the dark priest home where we went to find another poison sample so that Gem can do something anal-related and help the boss. Wait, is she making a suppository?” Three stops, blinking several times, “Nevermind, as long as it helps. So, we were running back here with Stompy, but he’s too big and he got stuck in a secret tunnel which we had to collapse to stop the spindlies from following us.”

To Granite, this makes more sense, but not by much, actually.

“Alright, alright,” he takes off his chainmail pyjamas, and puts on his heavy boots under the watchful eyes of Three who has stopped bouncing but is now vibrating at eye-watering frequency, “Let’s start with the simple stuff. You want me to do something.”

“Come with me. I’d like to introduce you to Stompy!” Three bolts through Granite’s suite, leaving behind a pink blur.

“Geez, I’m just an old dwarf,” Granite shakes his head, “I need my sleep.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to run, because Three keeps rushing off and quickly coming back like a baby flame spider returning a thrown stick. Granite sighs. Torchy used to be a great pet, at least until he grew up and ate his grandfather.

His warm mood dissipates quickly when his groggy head realizes where Three is leading him. The guards standing by the entrance to the secret passage salute him, which he reciprocates and keeps following the drone down into the darkness lit only by Three’s pink runes. Rather well-lit, actually.

“OH BY MURADIN’S ROCK-SPLITTING COCK!” Granite screams, suffering a minor heart-attack when he spots a giant ancestor mech made of istrium alloy which lights up as Three approaches, “I mean axe…”

“That’s Stompy, mister Granite!” Three beams, “Stompy, this is mister Granite, he’s our friend and he knows a lot of stuff.”

“Acknowledged. Welcome back, operator. Welcome, wing commander,” says Stompy, giving slowly recovering Granite another heart murmur.

“It speeeeeaaaaksss… W-Wing commander?” stutters out Granite.

“The symbol on your helmet identifies you as wing commander. Although the design is unfamiliar to me, it resembles a pre-project military headgear.”

Granite’s mind is spinning. A WORKING and intelligent ancestor war machine, right here in front of him. This is a miracle.

“This… this is a dwarven loremaster symbol,” Granite taps the three horizontal half-moons on his helmet, “One of many ranks based on the ones of our ancestors.”

His wonder finally gives way to logic, and he realizes what Three was talking about. The secret tunnel leading up is too small for ‘Stompy’, and the larger part behind him has collapsed for some reason.

“Is this what you wanted, Three? To get Stompy to the castle?” he asks. The drone nods, “We can rouse few engineers from bed, and I suppose there are some miners still awake-”

“I’ve got friends who always work late,” Three interrupts him, “I just wanted to know if we’re allowed to ruin this bit of the castle. I know which walls we can knock down without causing damage.”

Granite has to suppress the answer that he would happily raze the whole castle if it meant getting an intact ancestor machine like Stompy into his hooves. In light of that, he simply nods, and says:

“Alright, Three, you’ve got my blessing. Grab whomever you can, and let’s free Stompy.”

“Yaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Three whizzes off.

Granite sits down by the wall, his mind filled with questions to ask the changelings and the machine later. Right now, all he can do is breathe out:

“Holy shit...”

Three, on the other hole, is galloping through Brauheim at meteoric speed, air friction heating his chitin up. Castle whizzes by, so do trade quarter and soon after the storage quarter. Rectangular halls give way to uneven mine shafts, which at his speed also means he trips over a newly installed minecart rail, and bounces off of the floor multiple times like a rock skipped across a lake.

A crate of mining supplies shakes at the changeling’s impact, making all still working emerald miners who haven’t heard the bouncing drone already turn their heads. A second later, a smooth black head peeks out from behind it, helmet askew.

“Hi, guys!” Three waves at the miners, “We’ve got to save Stompy! Mister Granite gave us permission to make a tunnel inside the castle. It’s super important.”

“The loremaster himself needs our services? OUR?” the foreman’s eyes go wide, “Haul ass, you lazy sods! This is our chance to go up in the world, maybe to the iron mines!”

The miners cheer, pack their stuff, and follow Three back into the castle.

***

Battlecry yawns. It’s been a long day, and the new batch of mares trying to join the army wasn’t progressing as fast as she would like, taking more of her time, and leaving her able to do her own personal exercise regimen far too late. On the other hoof, she’s been sleep like a filly every day, so it has its benefits.

Tossing her armor away without bothering to put it on a ponnequin by the door, she heads straight for the bathroom. A shower would do her good.

*Click!*

She immediately peeks out of the bathroom when she hears the door click. No one’s there. Furrowing her brows, she walks through her house, listening for anything even remotely out of place. Maybe just someone tried to open her door and shut it again when they realized they got the wrong house? She shrugs.

Then she hears trickling water from the bathroom.

As she passes by the main door again, she slips on a set of heavy, combat horseshoes, and heads for the bathroom.

The door is closed. She didn’t close it.

Well, it looks like more training is on order.

Kicking the door open, she charges inside, and freezes instantly.

Eight, her lips glossy with red lipstick, is standing under the nozzle of the shower, water running down her chitin.

“Whuh- ah- what?” Battlecry.exe has stopped working.

Eight chuckles, and licks her lips.

“From the first moment, I knew my boss wasn’t the only one you had hots for, little cock sock.”

Battlecry’s jaw drops when she notices what Eight is sporting between her hind legs.

Eight feels the lust practically oozing from the mare now, and sways her hips, laughing inwardly at how Battlecry’s eyes follow the bounce of her crotch.

“Mouth first then? Alright, I’m not picky.”

***

A white, brown-maned unicorn is lazily strolling through the upper floors of Rift. Unlike Brauheim which is straight up flat, Rift is as vertical city as one can be. It took some time to adjust to the layout of a city which is built into the sides of an enormous crevasse splitting a whole mountain in half, criss-crossed by bridges, but by now, the unicorn knows this place like home.

A minotaur female passes by, carrying a large barrel of something hefted over her shoulder. The unicorn turns his head, smiling to himself as he watches the glorious globes of the minotaur’s ass bounce up and down. Minotaurs do hard work and eat well, the best combination to get proper assets.

“Like a drop of pure water sliding down a leaf on a spring morning,” he mumbles, “Almost hypnotic. Makes me wish I wasn’t sleeping alone tonight.”

The unicorn is no one special. Certainly, without his plate armor bearing the symbol of the sun on its breastplate he would be rather difficult to pick out of the crowd in any pony city. Here, though, he sticks out like a sore hoof, but his exotic nature did give him few very pleasant experiences in the recent past.

”I need you and lord Bright Star down here,” he hears a voice inside his head.

”Oh? OH! GEM?! Took you damn long! I was about to grab him and go kick some pint-sized ass myself.”

”That won’t be necessary. Drop the disguise, and the dwarves should be rather friendly. I need lord Bright Star’s magic. Things here are… not great.”

That’s enough to make the unicorn nod to no one in particular.

”I’ll be right there. Can you share the updated map?”

His mind is overwhelmed momentarily with much more than a route from Rift to Brauheim. It’s an enormous chunk of the underground as well.

After a quick trip to get yet another paladin currently observing late evening life in the city as well, the two descend down through tunnels until they’re stopped by six tiny ponies whose size is dwarfed only by the amount of weaponry on them.

The leading paladin’s form swirls in a gust of green fire, revealing a a mane-less changeling of a slim but tough build.

The dwarves huddle for a quick talk when they see the transformation, and then aim their weapons at the duo again.

“You’re coming with us,” says one in passable common language.

The two are led straight to prison and locked inside. The good part is that the dwarves haven’t taken any of their equipment away.

“Umm… well...” says the changeling, “That was unexpected.”

“Oh really?” asks the other unicorn, this time a real one, “I’m not one to cause an international incident, but sitting here isn’t my idea of a productive evening.”

“Don’t worry, Bright Star. Gem knows what she’s doing.”

The older paladin looks around the cell, and then sits down on a mattress in the corner.

“It’s been a slow day, but we’re inside and it’s warm. I don’t mind kicking back a little,” he stretches his legs.

“That certainly is an idea I’m not going to argue with,” the changeling nods, lying down on a mattress by the opposite wall.

***

”Love, just all my love...”

Five sighs, standing over the neatly stacked hibernating bodies of Six and Seven. She gave away the laser gatling as well as the grenade launcher, and her steps led her back here into the library. Well, in front of it, but after a while she went inside, and sat down.

”But the answer was right here all the time. Love, just all my love...”

“I know what you want from me, but it’s just not in me… not in the way you want...” mumbles Five, “And that’s what you will have to understand, no matter what.”

She looks at the marble reading table polished into a mirror. The changeling looking back at her is confused and obviously worried.

Why, though?

What is there to fear? What is there to be confused about?

This changeling exists to serve the hive and, unlike others, she’s happy with just that. That’s the simple truth, the truth of all truths.

What if she hurts him in the process?

She might, especially if he takes the difference between what they both want hard. On the other hole, such wound is temporary, and might even result in growth…

...and that’s all Five wants - a better hive overall in the end.

She looks at the crystallized rose tucked neatly in her leg hole, her expression once again that of absolute certainty about her goals.

“Alright then, where did Three leave the rocks?”

Not even two hours and one initially very annoyed jeweller later, Five finds herself standing in the center of a lavishly decorated room inside a private establishment slightly off of the castle plaza. Surrounding her, there are seven dwarf stallions and three mares, all wearing face masks and patches covering their cutie marks. Curiosity, uncertainty, but most of all - lust are filling the room to the brim, showing to Five’s senses as faint pink mist.

Five licks her lips, and flicks her horn, letting green light wash over her, making many small, beautifully cut diamonds set inside her holes glow green, creating the effect of drops of an emerald rain all over her legs. Her body is still a changeling, only one with slight improvements to shape and size which Two had taught her what now feels like ages ago. As she flicks her tail, she gives the dwarves behind her a good show of her new set of diamond piercings, which only adds to the quickly thickening fog of lust in the air.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m sure I can reward your courage accordingly, everypony. I’ve got more holes than you can imagine on any single pony, and for you, ladies… I’m sure we can arrange a fulfilling night as well,” says Five.

She walks over to the nearest dwarf, pushes him onto the floor, and leans on the floor to kiss him, face down and plot up. She flicks her tail again to encourage someone behind her, and moans:

“Come and get me. I don’t bite unless you want me to.”

***

“Oh geez...” says Gem as the prison guards unlock the cell door, and she sees the two softly snoring armored figures inside, “Ten, lord Bright Star? Wake up!”

The changeling paladin jumps up, and gives Gem a hug while the unicorn takes only a moment longer, kissing Gem’s hoof immediately after.

“I call you and you just fall asleep, really?” she pouts.

“Hey, we thought you knew what you were doing,” Ten shrugs, smirking at Gem, “and we knew you’d come for us.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I was really busy,” Gem shakes her head, “I’ll explain everything on the way,” she waves at the guards outside, “They’re coming with me.”

At this point, military dwarves are more than familiar with changelings running things that they simply shrug and let everyone out.

“What’s going on, miss Gem?” asks Bright Star.

“I need your help. I assume you know how to stabilize magic into an object which isn’t your amulet?”

“It depends on the object,” Bright Star nods, “Not every material can be enchanted.”

“I need you to infuse a liquid with a destructive spell. Fire is your thing, right?”

“Every paladin’s speciality,” the unicorn nods, and Ten joins in, “Servants of the Sun alicorn and so on. Although I’m telling you straight up, if you want a fire spell bound to water, that’s not happening.”

“Then I need to make a liquid which can hold a spell, isn’t harmful to us, and also has the properties I need as an antivenom. Ten, I might need you as a battery if I don’t make it the first time.”

“Sure,” the changeling shrugs, “I’m full enough from my… diplomatic relations with minotaurs. Why, though?”

“Boss really is here, but he’s dying. He’s been poisoned by something I’ve never seen before nor did I think something like that could even exist.”

“I don’t know whether to celebrate that we’ve finally found him, or to mourn what’s going on, so you’d better get ‘splainin’ right now, young lady,” Ten smacks Gem softly over the back of her head.

“Alrighty...”

***

“Hnnngh...” Five pushes herself up, feeling an industrial amount of various fluids drip off of and out of herself, “...these guys lack a lot of things, but stamina isn’t among those...”

With a little pride in her stomach… or possibly a hot lot of something much less poetic, she looks around at the unconscious dwarves, and grits her teeth as her chitin feels about to burst.

“Come on, you low-tier sack of flesh,” she growls, “You can do this without throwing up.”

Full and sloshing, both literally and figuratively, she leaves the post-credits scene of her organized orgy, and begins hauling herself through the empty late night streets of Brauheim. Thankfully, she did expect her capacity not to be enough, so she picked a love hotel near the castle, after some surprise about dwarves being into this type of thing. This way, her return trip to the library is painful, but she can handle it. Soon enough, she’s standing by Seven’s side, her short horn touching his, and slowly releasing a trickle of lust into him.

He either absorbs a lot more than she recalls him being able to, or she’s overestimated herself a little, but few minutes later his eyes open.

“Whuh- wha- I- the succubus? Owwww!” he clutches his head, feeling the effects of almost raw lust ravage his body, “Got any love in there, Five?” he groans, rolling over to try and stand up.

“Yes, but not for you. Go give Three a horsie ride or something,” Five nods to Six.

“Come oooon, there’s a demon loose in the city, don’t ask me how, and we need to stop her!” pleads Seven, “I don’t have time to refill and- hey!” he furrows his brows as Five sends him a quick mental recap of their recent trip into the enclave as well as what preceded it, “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIT WHAT?!”

“Out,” Five points at the library door.

“Wait, this is my haunt, you can’t just tell me to-”

“OUT!”

“No, seriously, I can’t just go out after what you told me-”

A gauntlet of green fire the size of Seven’s head envelops Five’s still pointing hoof, and a dragon claw extends from it, giving Seven the clear signal that he’s either moving in the next second, or he’s getting moved whether he likes it or not.

“Fine, fiiine… I’m going...” he opens the library door, and grins at Five, “Just don’t break the poor guy’s pelvis. You look kinda chubby now.”

The warrior only smirks as Seven closes the door behind himself, and after a quick mental check that he isn’t on the other side, eavesdropping, she walks over to Six.

This is what the love she got from the dwarves is for. She’s not good at it as a warrior, but she does her best to mix it up with lust into something delicious and nourishing for Six. She doesn’t use horn this time, instead opting for long, hot, and wet wake-up kiss.

Six slowly opens his eyes, feeling something like a warm massage work his body through and through. His mental links light up one by one, and his eyes cross at the realization that what’s now happening to him is Five’s doing. She raises her head up, sensing he’s awake.

“I- Five- I- you- YOU’RE OKAY! IT WORKED!” he jumps up, all hesitation forgotten. Then he furrows his brows when he spots the crystalline rose tucked neatly behind her ear as well as the cut diamond shards scattered all over her legs and… and...

“Is that a diamond nose ring? And earrings? And...” his lower posture gives him a clear view of Five’s pierced belly button and more, “Are those the diamond shards I brought?”

Five smiles.

“I knew you’d love this to be the first thing you see when you wake up.”

Six boops her, chuckling at how Five’s nose ring shakes.

“You have no idea.”

“Try me.”

***

Everything hurts.

Darkness. Pain. Teeth.

Has it ever been different? Has there ever been more than excruciating agony, more than fire devouring my flesh?

I twirl a spear made of pure love, and stab a unicorn paladin charging at me. The weapon pierces his armor clean through, but before I can finish him off, I have to let go and jump to the side to avoid the biting teeth of a changeling warrior.

It’s been so long… I think. I don’t know anymore.

Summoning a love blade, I duck under a swing of princess Celestia’s halberd, and stab upwards, slashing the alicorn’s chest open. She disappears.

She’ll be back soon enough.

Mom- Chrysalis spits a glob of acidic goo at me from the back. Of course I can’t avoid that while I’m having to dodge a beam of fire from another paladin’s horn. My leg gives way, and I stumble, falling on the black floor. The constant pain combined with my chitin melting under the spit is too much.

Everything is just too much.

I can’t handle it anymore.

Rolling over, I see a small black body curled up nearby. A changeling drone. I’ve been protecting it for some reason.

Forever. Throughout this eternity of agony.

It’s glowing with love. Not much, but it’s something. Not enough. Still enough for me to push myself up again.

Celestia is back. In defense, I slash her halberd in half. She’s ready, though, and blasts me with magic from her horn.

Chrysalis lands on me, biting into my neck. I try to kick her off, but I’m too weak this time. When she rolls away, I hear wheezing with my every breath that’s not coming from my mouth. A chunk of my chitin and flesh underneath is missing.

She looks at the drone, and rears her head back to spit her corrosive goo at it this time. The second to breathe… or wheeze, is enough to summon another spear of love which I lob through Chrysalis’ skull.

She’ll be back soon enough.

Three feral changeling warriors surround me, fangs bared.

“You’re just food, drone!” growls one.

I wish we didn’t have to fight among ourselves out of starvation.

The changelings are slaughtered by an attack from behind. A bearded paladin cleaves all three in one wide swing.

“NO!” I scream, and charge at him, summoning a burning green chainsaw this time which slowly bites through his flying sword, then his helmet, and with the roaring of its engine and quickly stopping scream of the pony even the paladin himself.

The corpse disappears. Star Trail will be back.

A burning pink oval appears hanging in the air nearby, and a blood red mare with leather wings steps out of it.

“Phew,” she says, making me back off, ready for another attack, ”Honestly, now that I can feel it, I understand why no one else could get through to you. Let’s make this a little more… bearable.”

Second after second, the constant pain I’ve been feeling… I’ve always been feeling… subsides. I’m still exhausted, still hurt, but the background fire eating my body from the inside is, at least for now, diminished.

“Who… are you…?” I croak. My throat is sore from screaming and gasping for breath.

“Hard to think with that pain and adrenaline-fried brain, is it? Buuut I admit I am a little hard to recognize,” she chuckles. Changeling fire mixed with something new and pink burns her body away, leaving behind… a changeling.

“I… I think I know you...” my legs buckle under me, “One… One?” stumbling towards her, I start crying immediately. I can barely see when I reach out and embrace her, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I was all my fault...” tears don’t stop. They can’t stop, “You… Nine… maybe Four. I’m sorry for being too weak to make Eight help you. I’m sorry you had to protect our egg instead of going all out. It was all my fault. I know I will never be able to tell you this… but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

“Heh… heheh… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she starts laughing, making me wipe my eyes and back away a little. Eventually, she starts gasping for breath so she shoves her hoof inside her mouth to calm down, “Ohhhh boy… you really are the exact opposite of Chryssie! She blamed everyone else for her failures while you take responsibility for things you should let go. Anyway, I’m not dead, and if you can find it in you to keep fighting, you might get to have fun with a literally divine changeling.”

“Whuh?” my moment of clarity fades, and with it returns my complete exhaustion. I can’t think, so I just repeat, “Divine?”

“I had no idea before I got this amazing opportunity, but do you know what can happen to a lust-based creature like a changeling if you add divine power to the mix? I’m lust incarnate now, boss, a succubus. So, keep going, because at the end of the road, I will be waiting, and trust me when I say - I’m waaay better than I used to be. And you know how cockbreaking I was already.”

I just nod. Nothing she’s saying makes sense.

I’m so tired.

“But it looks like our time together is growing short, and I can’t keep shielding you from the pain of your body forever. Well, I can, but I won’t. You will have to earn your reward,” she chuckles, and points at the small body behind me. Right, I was protecting it… for some reason, “That little ball of love is what you should be focusing on.”

Right. One’s always been smart. She knows what to do. I just… if I ever get some rest again… then I’ll… think about something.

For now… I just need to obey One.

“Heh, that’s just like you. Gotta earn everything.” I wave at her as she disappears back into her portal, “Bye, hallucinated One.”

I ready myself for another attack, but there’s no one around. Even the pain is returning slower than I thought it would.

It’s kinda… maybe not that good. It kept me awake.

Now… I’m cold.

So cold.

So weak.

I just need…

...some rest.

I collapse on the floor again, darkness wiping out my vision after an eternity of pain. I regret a lot of things, but on some level… I’m afraid to admit it… I welcome peace.

Oh right… Three was the drone sleeping here the whole time. My best friend Three.

He likes hugs.

And crayons.

.
AND HE’S ON MY FREAKING FAAAAAAAAAAAACEEEEEEEE!

I sit up, screaming into Three’s belly as my whole body aches.

“He’sawakehe’sawakehe’sawake!MissFourbossisawakeitworkeditworkeditworked!AaaaahstoptryingtoshakemeoffIhavethepowerofhugs!”

Can’t… breathe...

32: Five years in one quick chapter.

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I collapse back on the bed and gasp for breath as Three slides off of my face, and now I’ve got all four of his legs around my neck. I could think this was just a dream, and no one could blame me. One is there, Ten is there. Heck, even the paladin good guy… Bright Star is standing in the back. The instinctive trickle of information through the hive mind, though, assures me that this is perfectly real.

Relaxing on my back, I allow myself a smile.

“...what hurt the most… wasn’t that I felt as if I was melting on the inside… but that I was more and more certain… that I wouldn’t see any of you… ever again...” I croak and grunt in pain, “Alright… the melting was a close second...”

“You were poisoned, dad,” says a rather strange tall changeling who, if my hive link wasn’t telling me so, I would never guess to be Four.

“I… noticed...” I chuckle.

“Oh shush,” she giggles, and puts a hoof over my mouth, “Whatever the dwarves used on you seemed to have been made specifically against a heavily adaptive immune system. I couldn’t make anything natural to neutralize it, so I had to… improvise.”

With a hiccup, I let out a plume of fire which makes Four quickly withdraw her hoof.

“This is kinda a side-effect. You see, the poison was a bunch of really tiny machines changing their structure to drain resources from their surroundings and destroy biological matter. I had to make a heavy oil which they couldn’t decompose quickly enough, and Bright Star here enchanted the liquid with fire magic. If you had a pony digestive system or anything, it would poison you even worse, but as a changeling, the oil spread inside your body, and when the machines tried to decompose it - boom.”

“...boom…?”

“There might be some related side effects for some time. I wouldn’t turn into a pony any time soon if I were you,” she bites her lip, “Well, just don’t be surprised if you throw up and it comes out as napalm.”

“...ouch...”

“Don’t be a big larva, dad,” she can’t keep a serious face, and with a wide grin, teary eyes, and utmost care, she hugs me, “And if… if lord Bright Star wasn’t here after that… your body just stopped taking love completely. If he wasn’t here with real healing magic, our love, everything we did… it would have been pointless.”

“...come on… I’m not supposed… to make you… cry...”

Surrounded by happy hive links, it doesn’t take me long to figure out what’s missing.

“...where… is… Two…?”

Suddenly, silence.

To my surprise, it’s Five, whose legs now look like a starry night sky for some reason, who steps up and salutes.

“Two’s heroic sacrifice saved Three and Six as well as allowed them to return with information which we eventually required to cure you, boss. Two is gone. I deeply apologize for not being able to prevent it. It should have been me instead.”

I guess all this really was too good to be true. With a long sigh, I gather the strength to wrap one foreleg around Three whose warmth is doing wonders to quell the lingering pain. I feel like crying, but it seems that I’ve run out of tears at this point.

“...how about… you tell me… everything?”

“Yes, boss,” Five nods, “Shortly after you got poisoned-”

I stop her with a raised hoof.

“...not that. Not yet. What happened… after… Las Pegasus…?”

Four stops hugging me, and sits down by the side of the bed. Eight hops on next to me and Three, while the others make themselves comfortable everywhere around the bedroom. With the exception of Five, obviously, who takes her place by the door and resumes standing guard.

With everyone ready, Four starts talking.

“I’ll try to make this short, otherwise we’d be here for a while, and you need your rest,” Four shifts nervously, “Lord Bright Star found me inside our hideout and took me to Canterlot. I was scared sick, but everyone’s links disappeared, so it was either believing him or staying there alone with the house crumbling around me,” she blushes a bit, “Not my brightest moment, I admit. Well, lord Bright Star took me to Canterlot by train on his own, no other paladins anywhere.”

“I knew what Star Trail was capable of with the alicorn amulet, and I had no doubt that if I revealed that I got Ten and Gem here out of the city, he would have executed them no matter what I said.”

“...Gem…?”

“That’s my name now, dad,” says Four, “Miss One came up with it when I was thinking of a name to live among ponies. They’re kinda weirded out by our numbers.”

“Gem… I like it,” I smile at her.

“That’s great,” she smiles back, “So, when we got to Canterlot, we met up with Ten, and lord Bright Star took us to the castle where he confronted Star Trail in front of princess Celestia, and told her everything that happened between us and the paladins.”

“Which led to the disbanding of most of the order,” Bright Star chuckles, “I made a lot of my old friends really mad, as well as Sunnybuns herself, but it was for a good reason. What Star Trail did was inexcusable. As far as I know, he’s serving life in Canterlot castle prison for… a lot of things, really.”

“Deserves to be… kicked in the… nuts...” I mumble, feeling a little more generous now that both One and Three are back among the living.

“Among other things, yes,” Bright Star nods, “Although I wouldn’t be too harsh on him. Most things he did to you… changelings did to him first. Unlike you and your group, he didn’t have the inner strength to seek peace, only revenge.”

“And thankfully, he failed on all fronts it seems,” Gem pats purring Three’s head, “After the fate of Star Trail and paladins was decided, Ten and I had to face the changeling trials. Mine was very easy-”

“My damn well wasn’t...” grumbles Ten.

“-and it only took some questioning over few days, as well as rather gentle mental magic from princess Luna. She was careful after what miss One did to her in Ponyville, but she didn’t hold a grudge. In fact, I learned that she helped us.”

“She did,” Bright Star nods, “She sent us to Manehattan to look for you after you escaped from the Castle of Two Sisters. Unfortunately, Star Trail was suspicious of her being confused by your changeling magic, and instead of assuming we lost the trail in Manehattan and you disappeared somewhere across the sea to the Griffon Empire, he returned to Ponyville and eventually tracked you to Las Pegasus. We all know the rest.”

Everyone goes quiet before Gem decides to brighten up the mood.

“Anyway, back to Canterlot. I promise it was much less grim than what happened before-”

“Speak for yourself...” grumbles Ten again.

“-I am,” she sticks her tongue out at him, “You might want to know how miss One fits into all this.”

“Saving the best for last, I see,” One winks at her.

“Heheh, I wouldn’t forget you, miss One,” says Gem, “So, when I got to Canterlot, I heard a familiar voice in my head. Guess who decided that my mind needed a roommate?”

“Ever since we had to deal with the old rulers, their ability to transcend their body fascinated me, and if those old hags could do it, there was no way I couldn’t. And I was right, and also much better at it than they ever were. I didn’t need a whole hive to feed me, I just needed one cute little buggy. I’m just THAT good,” One laughs.

“You won’t catch me ever disputing that,” Gem nods, “Still, having miss One inside me was as enlightening as it was taxing. Her teaching me far more than she originally wanted to was more necessity than good intentions.”

“You WOUND me!” One puts a hoof over her heart.

“Oh please...” Gem waves her foreleg dismissively, “I know how secretive you are. Anyway, as soon as I even got to the trials, I got assigned a pair of guardians to watch over me - a pegasus by the name Common Crest, and a changeling who called herself Half-hearted Fury. I think she used to be rank sixteen or thirteen or something along those lines. She was very similar to you, miss Eight, actually. Only the dominant kind of changeling, and she was blind beyond healing. Not that it stopped her, really.”

“Wasn’t it exhausting having One in your head?” I ask, slowly regaining control over my tongue.

“In all senses of the word,” Gem dodges a quick smack over the head from One, which is a feint as One scoops her into a hug from behind. This doesn’t seem to disturb Gem in the slightest, “but I had the best teacher, and I had to learn very quickly. Yes, it was draining. Yes, I had trouble even getting out of bed some days. Thankfully, my guardians loved me unconditionally as if I was theirs. I had to pretend a lot at first in front of everyone, which wasn’t easy either since I was too scared to leave my room in fear of the paladins and guards and everyone being armed in the castle. What helped were visits from lord Bright Star, and occasionally even Ten... when the guards let him out of sight.”

“She was shaking like a leaf whenever I took her even only to the castle gardens,” interjects Bright Star, “Good camouflage, though. I couldn’t blame her. So shortly after the invasion and with the trials being a secret, albeit an open one, ponies weren’t exactly comfortable around a changeling.”

“I wasn’t allowed to transform during the first months to show that I took my citizenship status seriously and didn’t try to avoid oversight,” explains Gem, “So, as I said, the first months were hard-”

“Until the true hero of the story was done with his own trial,” Ten winks at Gem who gives him a curt bow.

“Please, maestro, spin your tale of wonder and enjoyment,” she says with a smirk.

“My trial took long, and it was far less gentle and invasive than in Gem’s case,” Ten sighs, “Mostly due to my role in the invasion which I admitted to show how changed a changeling I was. In retrospect, lying might have been a better idea for everyone involved.”

“I admire your courage, Ten,” I say.

“Huh,” he pauses, “That still means a lot to me, boss. I think I was trying to prove that I was someone better after my time with you to both myself and my memory of you. Of course, once the nobles, servants, and mostly everyone else started calling for my execution in the open, I did regret it. But, and by that I mean Sunbutt intervened as well as Luna, Fury, Bright Star… and I’m pretty sure Sunbutt refused the calls for my death just to spite some nobles. Anyway, I always say - don’t look a gift ling in the holes,” Ten shrugs, “That doesn’t change the fact that I was shadowed by intelligence service, private detectives, and I don’t doubt a variety of scrying spells. I couldn’t leave Gem alone in her room, so I enlisted Bright Star, and with my constant entourage, I started showing her around Canterlot. Let me tell you, it’s funny when you go to some no name play at the opera, and you are more interesting to the audience than the murder on stage. So, aside from ruining Gem’s innocent reputation… and annoying Fury to no end with her having to escort Gem around, I took her mind off of the prospect of being hunted down and killed. Oh, and the best part? Luna, as the official leader of the intelligence service, was paying for everything both for us and the definitely random ponies watching us from distance. Seriously, EIS agents are like our newborn infiltrators. It was fun, actually. The real problem came when Gem shared with me that she wasn’t alone inside her head.That was… a year and something into our stay in Canterlot, maybe?”

“Give or take,” Gem nods, “Some time before the whole mirror mess started.”

“Mirror mess?” I raise an eyebrow.

“To be honest, I don’t know too much about that,” Gems looks a little hesitant, “One day, life’s all normal in Canterlot, a week later, the city is under siege by a huge army of some shadow king, and I’m apparently a hero for leading citizens into the mountain mines where we used to live so that the invaders don’t find them. Ten would be a hero too, but in his case all this just balanced out the bad stuff during the changeling invasion. Come to think of it, living in the capital city of Equestria does invite disaster. Well, then the army picked up and marched north to the Crystal Empire which appeared out of nowhere short time before, we get no news for few weeks while we teach ponies how to make stew out of cave moss and spiders, and then everyone is gone, literally. No soldiers, no shadow king, nothing,” Gem shrugs, “As I said, weird,” she suddenly claps her hooves together, and beams, “Oh! You wouldn’t know that, probably, but guess what came out of the mirror invasion?”

“I’m still lost about what mirrors caused what shadow king to do what to ponies...” I say.

“Changelings and ponies made peace!” Gem announces.

“What? WHAT?!” I sit up and clutch my everything in pain, “That’s grea- oh holes what did I do to deserve this…?!” I slump back on the bed.

“Yep. Apparently, queen Chrysalis saw the error of her ways, and decided to give cooperation a shot.”

“That is astonishingly wrong, and yet it encompasses the whole situation so neatly,” says One in a singsong voice, “You see, a string of events preceded all that, but it ended with good old me. Chryssie and I had a little chat, we talked about what you did to the old rulers, and when some batpony offed himself trying to defend Chryssie during the first battle of the mirror invasion in the Everfree Forest, she used it as an excuse to start working on alliance proceedings. Some mushy nonsense along the lines of his bravery showing her that ponies are worth talking to.”

“Miss One!” Gem raises her voice, looking offended, “Mister Sharp Biscuit died valiantly in defense of queen Chrysalis against an enemy general who surprised her and everyone with his power!”

“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” One leans backwards a little to face still embraced Gem.

To my surprise, Ten gives One a firm glare.

“One, that wasn’t the tone to take here! Sharp Biscuit helped me get into the paladins. I’ve been visiting his memorial statue in the Everfree Forest every month.”

“When did YOU grow a spine-” One pouts, about to verbally slam Ten just as I interrupt her.

“Let’s not argue, please. One, you know how your sacrifice was eating me inside. Don’t dismiss the pain of others.”

One pauses, staring at me for a moment.

“I’m… sorry.”

“Did queen Vulcan’s infernal hive just freeze over, or have you found your meeker streak?” Eight can’t resist taking a jab at quite honestly surprising reaction by One.

“Eight...” I open my mouth, but this time I’m stopped by One’s raised hoof, and the infiltrator says:

“Maybe there’s wisdom waiting for you out there somewhere as well, Eight. You just have to punch it hard enough and drag it into your cave.”

“If I had the strength to move, I’d hug you both. Or spank… I’m not sure right now,” I chuckle.

Situation diffused successfully. Awarded 100 EXP.

“Leave that for later when your hoof won’t break off,” One sticks her tongue out at me.

“But, am I missing something? How did you get out of Four, One?” I ask the pressing question.

“When a queen is full of eggs and they gestate on enough love- ouch!” to my utter horror, it’s Gem who has just smacked One over the head to stop her sarcastic monologue, “Alright, just for that I’m telling your dad everything, you little drug dealer!”

“Mistakes were made!” yelps Gem.

“Now own up!” One starts jabbing Gem’s lower back.

“Fiiiiiine...” Gem sighs, “You see, my innocent reputation in Canterlot was more thanks to what I managed to hide with the help of miss One. As I said, keeping miss One inside me was extremely difficult despite her best efforts. I was young and inexperienced. However, I got an opportunity to hear a couple of guards arguing - a marefriend and a coltfriend. The stallion’s problem was that he was being punished by back to back shifts and had no strength to go out with his mare. So I… made him some candy from my venom which miss One taught me to mold into a performance enhancing aphrodisiac. The word spread, and suddenly I had quite a few customers wanting ‘love potions’. Of course, what I did had nothing to do with love potions, but it gave me an inspiration and I tried to learn to make them. You know, short time love, quick feeding for me. Actually, Bright Star here taught me my first recipe, and then he introduced me to the court alchemist who was an old guy who enjoyed the attention of a pretty little mare. All I had to do to secure his teaching was transform from time to time and wear some really funny outfits. Unfortunately, while he was a pervert, he wasn’t senile, and he refused to teach me the more advanced stuff, so we parted ways.”

“I think he became suspicious by the time he recognized you were trying to make LSD,” One snickers.

“Umm yes… I had no idea what substances were either illegal or questionable among ponies,” Gem chuckles, “Thankfully, Ten here had contacts from his life before the invasion, and landed me a back alley ‘teacher’ working for some mare by the name Vinyl Scratch. I learned a ton, and made some drugs for Vinyl’s parties. On complete accident, I experimented with adding my venom to those, which at the time was rather potent due to miss One’s teachings about self-control, pheromones, and all the fun infiltrator stuff.”

“That was one hole of a rave,” One nods in acknowledgement.

“Anyway, I started dealing some helpful doses to guards and friends, and experimenting with control over my own fluids under miss One’s tutelage, eventually learning on my own how things work. It helped take my mind off of the prospect of impending doom. Remember, this was before the mirror invasion and my reputation as a savior.”

“I assume this gave you the exposure you needed to make friends, albeit some less reputable ones, and the chance to gain a lot of lust.”

“Exactly, love too. A Nightguard mare by the name Choking Darkness was my first bigger guard client, I met her on one of Vinyl’s parties, and she spread my stuff throughout the guard ranks as well as the serving staff in the castle. You see, love potions produce much less negative effect on our feeding than pure lust or venom taint, so I was gaining a lot of energy my body wasn’t able to process. Such waste.”

Just a moment.

“There is a pony going by the name Choking Darkness. You’re kidding me, right?” I chuckle, “Is she like some warlock necromancer dark mage in disguise?”

“No no no, just a harmless batpony sex addict. Frequent client who actually led me towards making a new body for miss One.”

“I’m getting the feeling that I know how...” I say with growing certainty.

“Yep!” One grins, “Little miss innocent here got more cock inside her than an industrial chicken coop.”

Thank you for the image, One. Really. On the other hole, it’s not like Gem is still my little fragile changeling barely able to move her legs in the right order. She’s grown way more than I have in the time since our split in Las Pegasus.

“As I said, hosting miss One was harsh. I doubt I would have survived if it was anyone less mentally capable than she is.”

“It was rough trying to survive inside someone less than a thousandth of my power. Well, look who I’m telling that too, mister changeling hotel head. On the other hole, Gem here learned very VERY fast. Guess she didn’t take much from her mom, did she?” One wiggles her eyebrow at Eight who gives her an unimpressed glare before jumping forward, untangling One from Gem in a blink of an eye, and switching positions with her.

Eight nuzzles now rather frazzled Gem’s neck.

“Who’s a good aberration? You are, yes you are!”

“Come on, mom,” pouts Gem, “I’m flattered, but we’ll never finish the story if you keep fighting over me like fillies over a plushie.”

“Alright,” One sits down, “Everyone shut up and let Gem here tell how she fucked her way into greatness. My greatness, to be exact.”

She’s the one talking the most. Let’s not point that out…

“Aptly stated, actually,” Gem sighs, “With all my contacts and ability to generate lust on a ridiculous scale, miss One started nagging me about new body again. The problem was how to make one, and still have enough love to feed her and myself, so my body had to adapt to me forcefully stuffing myself with love and lust. A LOT of lust. It hurt, and I didn’t enjoy most of the sex, because I was focused on separating genetic information out of my partners to make the mix for the perfect specimen miss One wanted. Eventually, I was able to create a single changeling egg inside me and bear it to term.”

“That sounds like a lot of work, really,” I tilt my head.

“You don’t think I would want to start over as some nobody baseline changeling, right? Even the egg Gem so meticulously crafted under my supervision was woefully weak. At least the birth was easy on little princess here, right?”

“Well, umm, yes, it was,” Gem blushes, “After what and who I had to take in order to extract the genetic bits miss One wanted, a fully grown changeling egg going out was pretty relaxing,” she pats her hips, “And let me tell you that what they say about zebra stallions is mostly untrue. Mares have sweet bods, though,” she smiles inwardly.

“What do they say?” asks Three, his ears perking up.

“That stallions are monstrously more endowed than ponies. That’s a myth. They are longer, but less thick. Dragons rule anyway, if you ask me,” One quickly adds a ‘helpful’ explanation.

“I see. So, these zebra stallions are like striped noodles with legs,” says Three victoriously, proud of his analysis of the situation.

“Yes… yes, they are...” One hangs her head in defeat, “Well, dongs aside, that’s how, after months of back to back orgies of pure lust, I was born.”

Gem squeals like an excited filly.

“EEEEK! SHE WAS ADORABLE! That tiny head with a broken top of an egg like a small helmet… heheheh. I’ve got a photo back in Canterlot.”

Oh yes, I’m sure I know exactly what she means. After all, I saw her like that.

“I DESTROYED IT AND ALL OTHER EVIDENCE!” One bares her teeth.

Huh, blushing One. That’s new.

“I made a looot of backups. I know you,” Gem lets out an evil chuckle.

“Ahem,” I clear my throat as Gem and One enter a staring contest, “You got your body, but where does the peace with Chrysalis get into it?”

“Didn’t I say? I found her afterwards, talked some sense into her, and then the mirror invasion happened, so she could engage in diplomacy without seeming weak. In fact, she looked positively noble when she said her speech about her ‘pony protector’,” One snickers, “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah,” One shrugs, “A possible epic mental battle between changelings may or may not have happened, but Chryssie is really reasonable when her back isn’t against the wall, believe it or not.”

I recall what the hive memory of Chrysalis told me as we were watching her copies fight One and Eight, and smile.

“You know what? I do believe you. What’s with the demon thing, though?”

“We all know how lust is a drug and a poison, right? I was reborn from it, and I was powerful enough to survive on it with only very little love. My body kinda got used to it during my quick growth back into an adult. Lust overdose is something that happens to other changelings now. I wonder whether that brought Scream to me one day. It was quite random, really.”

Huh, I didn’t notice Scream sitting in the back. Although to be frank, the most shocking thing is her being quiet all this time. She stands up and shrugs.

“That’s how it works, really. You sense a useful individual, you use them. Simple. Besides, these days there are too many amateur demonologists and not enough succubi. Good thing they keep summoning blood demons on accident to thin the herd.”

Bright Star furrows his brows as to him we all look silent while Scream is ‘talking’, but doesn’t say anything.

“We didn’t see each other since my rather confused ascension. I don’t feel used,” One pats Bright Star’s shoulder, “I’ll explain later, Brighty.”

“Just you doing your work with such gusto grants me power. Don’t overthink it,” Scream says in the tone of a benevolent ruler.

“Is that it? I thought there would be some grand universal plan,” I have to chuckle at the absurdity of everything.

“I plan many things, but even I was blindsided by this. A pleasant surprise, certainly, especially since it led to Chryssie mellowing out a bit,” says Scream as One whispers explanations to Bright Star’s ear, licking it randomly. The paladin’s self-control must be stronger than steel, because all he does is flick said ear and listen.

“That was the boss’ job most of all. We helped kill the old memories of the changeling rulers. Gotta admit, the hive felt much less hungry even before the peace treaty. Those old relics did drain us hard,” One stops her interpreter job, and adds her two bits to the idea, “Can we get to Ten now? There’s not much to say anymore. Chryssie was back in the old hive, I bitchslapped some sense into her, she was livid about what paladins did to you, actually, and in the end I left the hive for good without her being able to lift a hoof against it. I’m just that awesome now. As for my life as a succubus, I really doubt you want to hear about my string of summonings and debauchery. I’d rather demonstrate later when you can move. You wouldn’t believe it, but some ponies were into weirder stuff that I am. Imagination is truly limitless. Ten, your go.”

The changeling shifts as all eyes move on him.

“There isn’t too much to say which I haven’t said already, really. My trials were a web of interrogations, mental magic, and constant oversight. Finding love was next to impossible at first. Thankfully, I’ve often managed to hide and shapeshift to get close to princess Celestia, and I survived on the ambient warmth around her.”

“The EIS agents knew about what you were doing, they just had no clue why,” interjects Gem, “They thought you were either planning an assassination or listening in to court proceedings. You falling asleep most of the time threw a wrench into their plans.”

“When they had to admit I wasn’t doing anything dangerous, I helped get Gem with her fear of ponies, and eventually got a job as a servant in the castle, which lasted until the birthday incident. I wanted to try becoming a paladin’s squire, but since they booted Bright Star immediately after arriving in Canterlot, and since I only made the other paladins reach for a can of Raid, that didn’t go well. Not my brightest moment, being a servant at the castle, but serving mares often have affairs with guards more than long-term partners due to the constant nature of the work, so I had enough food. I worked my way up to sometimes serving Sunny by taking every opportunity to just bring her tea or something.”

“You really do love more than just her booty, do you?” I chuckle.

“Boss… you’ve met her only once and she was trying to hack you into pieces. That’s not who she is. You have no idea how it is being around her. The warmth, the love… even when I was a changeling, and she knew… nevermind,” Ten shakes his head, “Well, that all ended with me drowning under her in the bathtub. When she came to her senses, she threatened execution. I told her I would shift my wings away and jump out of the window myself if she really wanted it. I guess she understood how I felt about her, so she just kicked me out of the castle. Thankfully, Bright Star here is a noble with estates around Equestria, and he offered me a job around his mansion in Canterlot where I spent my time up until the mirror invasion. When I helped Gem evacuate the citizens, my castle ban was lifted… with caveats. However, the paladin order had to be reformed in full so that their ranks could help in case another attack happened, so Bright Star was called back into service some time later, and I became his squire in the end. Unfortunately, our first mission to redeem our names was… strange. We were sent to the Griffon Empire to investigate some disappearances of important ponies. Black crystals, undead, weird stuff everywhere.”

“Ahem!” Bright Star clears his throat.

“Aaaaand we’re still not allowed to talk about it,” Ten sighs, “Especially with what it led to.”

”I’ll tell you everything when Bright Star isn’t around. It’s not important to our situation anyway. Too much, I mean,” Ten immediately adds through the hive mind..

“What DID it lead to?” asks Gem.

“Supposedly, the guy involved there was the baddie from the zebrican invasion,” Ten raises his hoof, “Not saying anything else.”

“ANOTHER invasion?” I ask.

Gem sighs.

“I don’t know any whys and wherefores, but quite recently, a huge army of undead and mercenaries attacked Equestria from over the southern sea. They marched north until they were stopped in a huge battle near the Everfree Forest. I was a medic in that army after helping evacuating south settlements, and trust me when I say that I’ve seen enough pain and death to last for lifetimes,” she shakes her head, “BUT, the bad guys were stopped, that’s all that matters, and some good actually did come of it.”

“How?” I’m having trouble finding good in scarring my little changeling for life.

It’s Ten who answers that.

“Minotaurs played a key role in that battle, supposedly. Some ‘dark prophet’ of theirs united the clans, they moved into the mountain above us, and built Rift, which gave us a safe base, and a diplomatic reason, to keep following the trail Eight left and Gem discovered in Vanhoover and Crystal Empire.”

“Wait, dark prophet...” Eight furrows her brows, “You mean the black unicorn I found dying in the snow?”

“Well, there’s a pony statue in Rift, but he’s an alicorn there, although that might be more artistic representation than anything.”

”Aaand let me stop all of you right there,” Scream butts in, ”I know everything about that, and it doesn’t concern you. His path isn’t yours.”

One relays the message to Bright Star.

“Scream might be right,” Ten nods, “Whatever happened with the minotaurs and the invasion is over. We have our own problems, and we’re all together again. So, in the spirit of completeness, I’ll just add that mine and Bright Star’s mission as well as my involvement in the battle of the Everfree granted me the rank of a paladin on probation. I mostly got it because I wanted to go with our heroine Gem up north, and princess Celestia wanted to show she cares about diplomacy, so she would send TWO paladins instead of one and a squire. And now we’re here.”

Ten claps his hooves together as if realizing something.

“Wait, this means we can now arrange a meeting with Celestia, because you’re a ruler of a hive, boss!” he adds, “I’d be happy to do that. Dwarves don’t have any ass- I mean class. Oh screw it, ass. Minotaurs are a lot more fun to watch and have diplomatic relations with.”

Oh Ten, never change.

I yawn.

“I’ll think about it, but for now, I’m about to pass out,” I chuckle, “I’m so happy you’re all alright, and when I can move again, there will be hugs aplenty. Now, I could use a pillow. Who isn’t busy?”

Three jumps on the bed next to me with such force he bounces away on the floor. Eight does so with much more care, and wraps her legs around me just as Three crawls back up, and curls up above our heads, his hind legs wrapped around Eight’s and forelegs around mine.

“Okay,” I chuckle, “I’m all for a good love pile, but let’s save the rest of you after you won’t squish me. Good night,” I yawn again.

“Good night, dad,” says Gem, “Alright everyone, let’s give boss time to rest. That goes for you too, miss One,” she grows claws and starts pulling One away by her ear.

“I’m a demon of lust, stop that!”

“I’m a doctor. My patient, my rules.”

“Ow ow ow ow stooooooop…!”

Ahhh… peace and quiet.

33: Third time's the harm.

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“Uhhghh...” I moan, trying to ignore the thumping outside. Is someone mining something in the castle or what?

*Thump!*

*Bzzzzzt!*

“Eight-” rolling around on the bed reveals that neither my muscular pillow, nor my warming bottle alias Three are there.

Any news in the hive mind? Huh, no panic, nothing extra, relaxed attitude all around. Love levels? Other than mine, alright. What about time? It seems that I’ve slept for some three days straight.

Fiiine, I’ll get up too.

First, though, I think I’ll kick whoever is making all that noise outside in the plot.

As I leave the royal suite, I almost swallow my tongue. Considering I’m a changeling, that’s a lot of tongue.

I’m facing a huge, equine-like mechanical construction filling the entire hall from bottom to top. It takes one final heavy step, and it stops. I know it’s looking at me… somehow. Is it some dwarven machine?

“Uhh… hello?” I try to look unthreatening, which isn’t too difficult right now.

“Morning, boss!” a small, helmeted, black head peeks out over the top of the looming machine.

“Three? What is this?” I tap the machine’s leg.

“That’s my friend Stompy! The miners finally widened the secret tunnel enough so that Stompy could fit. I wanted to take him for a walk. Look, boss, he can talk! Hey, Stompy, this is the boss. He’s the best.”

“Greetings to you, changeling leader,” says the machine in a droning, a little distorted, but rather friendly tone.

“Hello, Stompy,” I’m not about to dispute Three’s ability to befriend an inanimate object by now, “Say, I don’t think I recall you being around before I got poisoned.”

“Operator Three reactivated me five days ago,” replies Stompy.

“We found Stompy while we were looking for the poison samples back down in the dark priest enclave. Wait, didn’t we tell you that?” Three tilts his head.

I wave my foreleg.

“Maybe, I don’t know. I’m still groggy. What’s the time?”

“Ten twenty-three in the local timezone,” reports Stompy.

“I dunno what that means, but it’s morning,” agrees Three, “Mister Granite just sent me away after the morning council meeting, saying that he wanted some peace and quiet for a moment, so we came to guard you instead.”

I don’t have the heart to tell him to go ride his new friend somewhere else, preferably far away so that I could go to sleep again. I guess it’s time to get back into the leadership horseshoes, and see what went wrong while I was out.

Heh, good to know that the dwarf guards around aren’t used to Stompy either, judging by their incredulous stares. The king’s suite isn’t far from the council room, and as I enter, I hear a loud sigh from the only dwarf inside.

“Come on, Three. I told you that I can’t think with Stompy aro-”

“Busy morning, Granite?” I interrupt him.

“YOUR MAJESTY!” he jumps up from his chair, rushes over, and stops in front of me, “You look much better now, but that’s not difficult considering you looked like crumpled grey paper when I saw you last time.”

“I’m glad to see you too,” I smile, and sit down at the council table, “So, how are things? Dark priests, unrest, everything. My changelings told me that things weren’t the best around here.”

“We’re all together again, so everything is great!” Three has finally managed to untangle himself from the operator seat atop Stompy, and is now lying on the large table, forelegs crossed under his chin.

“Well… I’d take Three’s report with a grain of salt,” Granite chuckles, “I’ll start with the basics - Brauheim is safe, for now. The good part is that the Twisted haven’t breached any part of the city. The bad part is that they found a way past the flooding seals, and our patrols have faced few skirmishes.”

Twisted… Twisted… spindlies, right. I really need to reconnect to the others properly.

“Any infected?” I ask.

“Luckily, no. We’ve armed everyone with so much firepower that the first barrages must have scared the solitary Twisted away. We had to seal off more mines, though, which is slowly endangering our ability to stick to the minotaur trade agreements. Of course, in the long term it will hinder our ability to craft ammunition and explosives.”

”Eight, come here, will you?”

”Sure, give me a minute, boss. Just checking up on something personal.”

”Oooh, my curiosity knows no bounds.”

”You’ll have to wait, it’s a surprise.”

Link by link, I slowly reconnect to everyone, and a flood of memories makes my head ache for a short while.

“Are you okay, king?” asks Granite when I wince and clutch my head.

“Just give me a moment to adjust...” I grunt.

I take deep breaths until the pain subsides, hoping that my head will make sense of all the gained information at the right time. After all, a LOT has happened.

When I open my eyes again, Eight is already in the room.

For the next few hours, I listen to Granite and Eight’s report of everything that has happened, this time in a lot more detail.

“I can’t but appreciate the irony that your today’s dark priests are just descendants of criminals who got lucky to survive in this… Silversmith prison,” I chuckle, “That really should be general knowledge.”

“Would certainly make your religion a lot healthier,” sneers Eight.

Granite just sighs.

“And about those experiments,” I continue, “The energy weapons we found. Are those significant?”

“Hey, Stompy!” yells Three, “Did you hear the boss?”

The door to the council room opens, and the mech sticks his head inside.

“Yes, I did, acting high-general Three. Revealing classified information to rank - boss. New rank assigned higher value than high-general,” drones Stompy, “Limited project Living End info available. Ask away.”

“What was the laboratory under the prison for?” asks Eight.

Silence.

“You can consider their questions to be mine, Stompy,” I say.

“Alright,” the mech nods, “The laboratory served as a hub of information for two of the three branches of the Living End project. One of those research paths is marked as completed, one as failed, and one as untested.”

“Can you summarize what those research branches were?” asks Granite.

“Path one - ascension. The original Living End goal is unknown to me,” Stompy takes a brief pause, “I wonder why. However, it was successfully finished a long time before the other branches. Path two - adaptive nanopoison. A nanomachine based destructive substance made to overcome the adaptability of the Twisted. Proved ineffective due to the ability of Twisted to separate the affected area and regrow new body parts from stolen biomass.”

“The brass spike venom!” Granite breathes out.

“But it does work, right?” I ask, “In theory.”

“Yes, in theory it is the most cost-effective solution to the Twisted problem,” agrees Stompy, and continues, “Path three - weapon of mass destruction, the Big F-”

“Friendship!” yells guess who.

“-Gun,” Stompy doesn’t seem fazed by Three at all, “Launcher of temporarily stabilized fusion cores. Data of the first prototype test by Three - tracer rays proved extremely effective at dealing with the Twisted.”

“So the ancestors did have effective weapons,” says Granite, “Why did they seal the Twisted off instead of wiping them out? Why didn’t they USE the friendship gun?”

“I don’t know,” says Stompy, “My knowledge is limited to combat strategies and methods to effectively fight the Twisted and other, mostly insignificant in comparison, underground threats.”

“I’ve got a theory,” Eight taps her hoof against the table, “Stompy, do you know anything about the Vigil? Some cult, supposedly.”

“No direct information or any relevant links available.”

Eight nods.

“Yeah, I thought so. This is just a theory, but if the Vigil wanted to unleash the Twisted, and he is unbelievably more powerful than probably all of the Twisted combined, then they might be some… simpler version of him, and if they are, then Granite’s ancestors caught onto their adaptive capabilities. They tried the poison which worked wonders, but they couldn’t make it stick inside the Twisted, so they made a weapon which they saved for some final battle, maybe there was someone leading the Twisted, or they needed them all in one place. Wait, if the venom worked well, then our adaptability as changelings is much greater than theirs,” Eight stops suddenly, thinking very hard.

“Or they finished it too late,” I shrug, “Or the researchers were secret, and when the only safe place that remained was a prison, they couldn’t get it out because of a riot or something. All theories, but in the end they don’t matter. The real point is what do we do now? Can WE use the BFG?”

Granite shakes his head.

“Unless Stompy here has a way to power the weapon, we’ve run out of ammo.”

“There was this glowy green thing in the back,” adds Three.

“A specialized plasma cell,” says Stompy, “Luckily for you, the ammunition creation process for the BFG is part of the Living End project. Unfortunately, it requires devices that judging by the state of your dwarven technology you don’t possess.”

“Guards!” yells Granite, and two heads peek inside by Stompy’s shins.

“Yes, loremaster?”

“Get Hard Reset here! Tell him to find the best guys he can.”

“And take Six to watch!” I add.

“King-” Granite opens his mouth to probably object.

“Lalalalala- not listening!” I shake my head, “Six is observing. My last word.”

“Alright, what I said stands,” Granite finishes his orders, “And let Six observe. He’s the small changeling who DOESN’T glow and wear a helmet.”

Both guards rush off.

Silence spreads, and I can sense Eight’s curiosity.

“What’s on your mind, Eight?” I ask straight up.

“Is it possible that we might find a way to become immune to the Twisted infection, since you survived the venom with Gem’s help? One might have enough self-control to do that.”

“I’m not sure,” I frown, “One is a demon now. The way she works must be different. And… I’ve examined the state of the hive mind from when Two got infected. The onset was almost instant. I’m not saying we couldn’t do it with the help of stasis magic and Gem’s alchemy, but...”

“Last option?”

“Yeah,” I nod, “Anyway, Granite. You said your patrols clashed with the Twisted. From the memories of everyone, I can see that the BFG ruined their spindly day.”

The loremaster shrugs.

“I did send few guards to scout the vicinity of Brauheim with the help of miss Gem and her potions. The results are… mixed,” he sighs, “The Twisted are spreading out very slowly, but my best estimate is that there can’t be more than three or four hundred of them, which is still more than enough. They seem to be devouring underground animals to gain biomass which forms more of them, but it’s a slow process. We set up ultrasound drones deeper into the mines which drive underground species away, so the Twisted growth isn’t overwhelming.”

“Considering that the infection is the biggest problem, and we have a very smart machine here from the times of ancient battles. How did those fighting the Twisted deal with the problem?” asks Eight.

“Who says they did?” I pout.

Stompy thinks about it for a moment.

“The energy shield covering the operator seat on my back is one of the pre-Living End project methods. Unfortunately, it has severe drawbacks. The energy drain is massive for your technology. The shielded area also slowly runs out of oxygen, so extended deployment is inadvisable. The final big thing I see is that prolonged exposure to the shield field does adversely affect living organisms.”

“That makes no sense,” Granite shakes his head, “How did the ancestors deal with all that?”

“All links lead to the original branch of the Living End project, which I know nothing about,” says Stompy.

“Damn it!” Granite punches the table, “We need to deal with this before the Twisted find their way to the surface. We might have months, or it could be weeks, but we can’t allow a single one to get outside. Animals are everywhere, and minotaurs aren’t too big on long-range combat, so any contact will only spread the infection.”

“The air vents will be the biggest problems,” I say, “Those are big enough for then to walk through. How about you set up barricades not around Brauheim, but in the access paths up? Radios, ammo, everything.”

“I will, but that won’t be enough,” Granite taps his hoof against the table, “I hate to say it, but we’ll need to examine Stompy, and by examine… I mean disassemble. It’s a heinous sacrilege and crime for ‘lesser’ dwarves to study ancestor technology, but we don’t have a choice.”

“I can provide my internal blueprints for maintenance and reassembly,” the mech agrees.

“Umm… do we have to make Stompy into parts?” asks Three, his ears splayed back, “You know, they might make a mistake when they put you back together, and you’d have your legs on your head and you’d have to keep jumping around. Can’t we just keep Stompy around to defend the city?”

I pat Three’s head.

“That won’t be enough. Stompy alone can’t save everyone, but if everyone has Stompy’s shield or energy weapons, then we have a chance. Don’t worry. You’ll be able to visit him any time, and Six will be keeping an eye on all the research. He learns technical stuff really fast.”

Three sighs.

“Alright, boss...”

As a group of engineers led by Hard Reset practically pee themselves when told they’ll get to examine a real Silversmith living mech, and lead Stompy away along with Granite while arguing like crazy, Three just mumbles.

“Bye, Stompy...”

“AHEM!” I glare at Three.

“Umm… boss?”

“Didn’t I tell you to go grab Six and supervise the engineers?”

“Oh.. OH! You DID, boss!” he cheers up instantly, and dashes off with a renewed smile.

***

Finally left alone with Eight in the council room, I realize something.

“You know, I could really go for some light exercise and stretching with Battlecry.”

“No can do, boss. She’s busy right now,” Eight hops onto the table, sits down in front of me, and nuzzles my nose, “But we can do all the stretching and light exercise we need right here.”

“You mean here… on the council table? What if someone walks in on us?”

”Someone already has, but I like watching almost as much as I like joining in,” Scream is suddenly sitting in the corner armchair, giving us her usual smoldering look, ”My business can wait few minutes, and I can always give you some pointers.”

“Mmmpph-!” I find myself in a long kiss with Eight into which I ease myself and do my best to requite it until she breaks it.

“I needed this,” she says, nuzzling my nose again.

“I missed you so much,” I hug her, and enjoy the warmth of her chitin until reality trickles back into my soft and pleasant world.

“So, how about we deal with the voyeur back there, and then take a day or two of some examining and disassembling of our own?” Eight whispers in my ear.

“And that is why you’re my queen,” I chuckle and look at Scream while Eight lies down on the table like Three did previously, “So, Scream, what do you need?”

“After watching you two, an insulin syringe,” she stands up, slowly walking towards us, “Now, let’s move the conversation into a more comfortable place.”

In the next instant, I find myself drawn into the hive mind. Quickly after, all other changelings appear, including Ten.

“You’re sun bug,” Scream points sideways at him without paying him any more attention, “Now, everyone. I’ve been helping you all this time mostly for my own amusement. However, by complete accident you’ve gotten into a position to help me, and this is one debt I won’t leave unpaid.”

That doesn’t sound good. Still, there’s no reason to be antagonistic without any information.

“Let’s hear it. We do owe you a lot, but-”

“There is no but!” she stomps the black floor, sending out ripples of gold fire, “You WILL do this. I’m just going to tell you why so that you don’t feel bad,” her expression turns into a deadly serious one, “As punch bug knows from experience, facing the Cult of the Watcher, or the Vigil as they’re called, isn’t fun, and it takes some careful planning if you don’t want to screw yourself over later. Well, my friends and I have faced them repeatedly, and we’ve discovered their goal. Unfortunately… there are issues.”

“How about you just tell us everything, Scream?” I close my eyes and breathe out.

“The cultists are trying to bring back a long-banished god. The Silversmiths had a prophecy about it that was drawn on the door behind which the Twisted were sealed. I know what the place where they need to call the god is, but if we are to stand a chance, we need the event to happen at the right time. You see, the cult is gaining members, but it takes time and power to turn them into monsters like that one elder Vigil down here. Right now, they are spreading, but still beatable. The problem is that the god they want to come is far. If we wait for the Vigil to gain enough members so that they start bringing the god back here openly, they’ll grow into numbers and power which will steamroll us. What I want to do is to get the god here much faster, and I need your help with that.”

“You mean god… like you alicorns?” I ask.

“No, most of us are tiny fragments of divinity in comparison to the gods. Only select few pose a direct threat in terms of raw power, and I’m certainly not one of them. However, that’s not your business. What I need from you are blueprints for a certain architectural feature hidden on the walls of the Silversmith underground.”

“The pillars and the pyramid!” Six suddenly calls out, then clamps his hooves over his mouth, “Sorry.”

“Exactly,” Scream nods, “I’ve located the place where the pyramid is, and it became clear to me that it had to be the place for final battle. Reality is weakened there, probably from some ancient summoning rituals, but it’s still strong enough to withstand the god coming here without help. The pillars and the crystals on them are a clue, I think. I need to know exactly what those are and how to build them.”

“And how do we fit into it?” I ask, “I mean, I understand, but we can’t search the whole underground for some blueprints, not to mention the Twisted swarming down there.”

“If I didn’t have a plan, I wouldn’t be bothering you. I learned this from our last visits to the prison and some translation work afterwards,” Scream frowns, “While the Silversmiths did carve their knowledge into walls mostly at random, the vicinity of all blueprints is covered by aspects related to those or by links to other places. Something so important they spent a whole door just CARVING A FREAKING PICTURE about it will have blueprints for everything involved nearby. I’m sure of it. I’m going to need hard copies of everything to the last detail.”

“Okay, I understand,” I say, “But we need time. Dwarves have to craft some protection against the infection. We could try sneaking, but we can’t operate the gear needed to see such tiny writing and-”

“TIME IS LITERALLY THE ONLY THING WE DON’T HAVE!” Scream yells in my face, “Grab a dwarf, use invisibility, I DON’T CARE! Just get me the blueprints. I’ll be there too to identify what I need. You’re going down there tomorrow.”

“No,” I face the alicorn, “It’s too dangerous. Give us a week, maybe a month and we can do it. I’m not risking my hive for this.”

“Do I need to remind you of something?” she nods towards Three who suddenly feels woozy as the runes on his body flicker.

“I will keep him safe in the hive mind, and we will find a way to bring him back. One knows everything about those matters.”

“You mean MY succubus?” Scream flicks her horn, and One keels over on the floor, choking and pawing at the ground, “She’s not enough of a changeling anymore to survive me taking her divinity away,” she leans closer to my face, and growls, “I can be a VERY vindictive alicorn.”

Again.

AGAIN. ALWAYS! It’s always the same.

I can’t protect them. No matter what I do I can’t protect them.

“...alright...” I breathe out, and One is allowed to stand back up, gasping for breath, “But I won’t be forcing or even asking anyone to come with me. I will have to take dwarves with me to operate the scanning equipment anyway-”

“Six - you’re staying with Granite as communication. Screw radios,” Eight interrupts me, “Ten, you’ll do the same with minotaurs. Someone will have to get a message out to the surface if we fail. The rest of you are coming.”

“Eight, I don’t want to-”

“The hive stands and falls with their king. I know what you tried to make out of us, that you wanted us to become our own individuals. And you succeeded, congratulations! I love you, I would die for you, I will live only for you if fate allows it, and it’s not because you are the king, it’s because I’m in love. Three is your best friend who has a big gun and can drive a tank. He likes making friends and listening to stories-”

“And crayons!” Three cheers.

“-and drawing, of course. He came far from a common hive drone under Chrysalis. Four and Ten, I don’t have to say anything about them. They have their own lives. They ARE the dream you’ve always wanted to see. Five likes guns and Six. Six likes engineering and Five. Once he learns how to make ammo for her, their relationship will last forever. Seven is a grump who studies magic. Everyone is far more than what we used to be in the old hive. We used to be only what our assignment, our mission needed. We’re so much more, we have our free will, and that’s why we will disobey if you tell us to stay here for no reason. Of course, thanks to whatever little remains of my own free will, I will punch whoever refuses in the face. We are still CHANGELINGS, we are one HIVE! Understood?”

I lower my head.

“I just want you to be safe and happy, that’s all. No suicide missions.”

“Perfect, once we kick the ass of the spindly fucks and return from a suicide mission, we’ll be safe and happy,” Eight sits down and crosses her forelegs on her chest.

There’s no use arguing, is there? They would just disobey and trail me anyway if I went alone. I sure know Eight would.

“Alright, we’re leaving tomorrow, but after that, Scream… we’re done.”

The alicorn raises her hoof.

“I solemnly swear that if you do your job well, I will never bother you again.”

Breaking the hive mind meeting, I return to the real world with Eight by my side.

”Three, you’re with Hard Reset and Granite. Tell them to get us some makeshift protective gear. One, you know everything about biology. How do we prevent infections in general?”

”Generally, these things spread through mucus membranes or pores. They get inside either through the air or by direct contact. Pores are not an issue for us, cuts and wounds will be worse. My best idea for a protective gear is a bodysuit, and we’ll need a helmet for the more direct contact. Obviously, that won’t make us safe by any stretch of the imagination, but we might avoid some glancing splashes. I’ll find someone who knows how to make proper clothes and persuade them to work overnight,” answers the body control specialist.

”Five, you know firepower. I need anything we can use from FAR away but which doesn’t need any too limited ammo. Pick something for everyone. Gem, potions. Make few of the invisibility ones in case we just have to drop all gear and flee. Otherwise, make anything that will allow us to keep anyone away. We should have enough damage potential thanks to what Five picks.”

”Sure thing, dad.”

”And the most important thing. When you’re done with your tasks or if you don’t have any, go out and gather love. I’m not doing this hungry.”

”Can I just summon another succubus?” asks Seven, apprehensive.

”No, you’re learning whether you want or not. You can’t be an infiltrator like that. Scream?”

”Yeeees?” the alicorn has been listening after all.

”Help Seven get laid properly.”

No objections. I guess she IS serious this time.

Well, it’s time to repay our debt.

***

Aside from Six and Ten as planned, we’re all now sneaking down a long, roundabout way to the prophecy door so that we don’t have to ruin any more flood seals. So far, our trip has been quiet.

Only metaphorically, of course.

The five dwarves Granite sent with us, while supposedly excellent warriors, are not used to sneaking by any measure despite me making them wear leather armor instead of full plate mails. To our changeling ears, they sound like an avalanche of dropped kitchenware, but so far it hasn’t caused any problems.

”Stop!” One, scouting ahead, raises her tail and starts waving it around. It’s a signal for the dwarves who obviously can’t hear us talk via hive links. They understand and freeze immediately. That, or One’s now fully visible backside is just so captivating, ”Got contact. Only a single Twisted, but I can sense more around, none in the immediate vicinity, though.”

”Eight?”

”Armed and ready,” she reports, checking her set of weapons.

Eight had an excellent idea while getting ready for this mission. Instead of taking loud, projectile weapons or yet another flamethrower like the dwarves, she instead opted for a set of hoof-fitted bolt launchers based on the one she got from the griffon Imperial Guard, which means that in addition to her stretchy bodysuit and a riot helmet with plastic visor, her whole barrel is covered by thick, sharp, iron nails neatly stacked in belts. Very similar to how Gem stores her combat-ready vials, actually.

”Waaaaait! Give me a second,” speaking of Gem, our little alchemist daughter stops Eight from charging ahead and ruining someone’s day. I feel a faint mental pressure, but I can’t identify what it did. Afterwards, Gem says, ”Alright, go!”

Eight rushes ahead, and from her eyes I can see her quickly passing a faint cloud of lust invisible to naked eye which is One. The Twisted which looks like a pony-turned-squid opens its six eyes and a mouth to scream right as the top of its head disappears when Eight’s heavy bolt makes its whole body twitch. The second bolt from Eight’s other hoof launcher only serves impale the creature’s barrel to the floor. One, right behind Eight, spits corrosive goo at the creature, very obviously preventing its resurrection.

Five seconds, and the only noise was the clanking of the two bolts, a pair of hisses from Eight’s pneumatic launchers, and a single spit.

”Do you hear anything?” I tap my ear, and the dwarves shake their heads. My changelings reply that there’s no movement anywhere around at all, ”Well done. Gem, what was that beforehoof?”

”I cut the Twisted off from their hive mind. That way there was no chance that they would react en masse. I think I can keep doing it if we meet even two or three at once.”

”Excellent thinking. Okay, let’s keep moving,” with a wave of my hoof, our group resumes the slow progress of moving towards ‘the door’.

Scream identified the prophecy carving as a place where we should start. With luck, it should be our only stop. Unfortunately, it’s the place from where Twisted poured out, so I’m sure our good fortune of meeting only a solitary one can’t last.

Strangely enough, it does, and all we face are two singular Twisted, and one pair, which Eight, Gem, and One dispatch with deadly effectiveness. The only bad part is that One’s destruction of the bodies removes the option for Eight to recover her ammo. No big deal, though. One of the dwarves is carrying a whole bag of sharp metal.

So, we’ve reached the desired door, and after listening and combing through the hive mind we’ve decided that we’re as safe as we’ll ever be.

Scream is rushing around, examining all the walls. Three, trying to be helpful, points out the sections in which Scream finds interest to the dwarves who have assembled some strange equipment and are pointing it the right way.

It takes time. The way I understand it, which is through Six’s knowledge, they need to heat up the wall and then make a picture from the heat reflections. It’s nowhere as good as Scream’s ability to just see the writing, but we don’t have anything better.

As minutes pass, I watch Three walk around. Strangely enough, he’s armed. Not with a real weapon, no, but he’s got some building foam launcher - a tank on his back and a nozzle on his foreleg connected to it. It’s substance for quick repairs which hardens almost immediately. Three didn’t want to hurt anyone, but when this ‘weapon’ presented itself, he jumped on it, saying it was like shooting hugs at ponies. I should have dwarves make him a bola launcher, he’d love it.

Gem is reaching for the potions around her chest, and practicing the throwing motion, increasing chances that she’ll be able to do it under pressure if everything goes wrong. Most of her vials are filled with black substance which I have no idea what it does.

One is sitting with her back against the wall, eyes closed and listening or possibly checking any mental connections around just like Gem is doing. As for weapons, she opted for dual hoof pistols - small cannons which launch what dwarves call bullets. They look like bracelets with hoof-long size barrels on the perimeter, each being good for nine shots before reloading. I’m not sure how good precise weapons like those would be in face of the black tide, but I assume One knows what she’s doing. She probably dug more information from the minds of my changelings than I did by now.

I opted for the flamethrower, just like all the dwarves who joined us. It’s a short range weapon, but one with massive area of effect destructive potential. In dire need, it can also just launch the whole tank for a huuuge explosion, or so I was told. Eight, of course, has her nail guns.

Five is having fun despite the gravity of our mission, I can feel it from her. She got her grenade launcher, a whole lot of ammo, and after some examination by the dwarves she was allowed to keep her mobile laser gatling turret. Six promised he’d learn how to maintain it later. That was the first time I saw heart eyes in real life.

”Alright, we’re done here,” says Scream, ”The images are of good enough quality, so if the shortstacks print those properly, I’ll be able to make something from them. The bad part is that the information is far from complete, the good part is that just as I thought, we know where we need to go next. Hug bug explained my directions to the dwarves, and they know where the place is.”

Nothing can be easy, can it?

”Everyone, if we’re ready, let’s go.”

After some discussion over the dwarven map, we quickly catch on where we’re supposed to go, and invisible One takes the lead again.

By now, we’re more than ready for small encounters, and the few Twisted we have to face don’t prove a threat. The twenty-minute trip leads us to a rough cavern which at some point hosted ten tunnel mouths. Now, however, those are blocked by smooth Silversmith walls. With a victorious smile, Scream flies ahead to examine those.

”Be a dear and get rid of all the nuisances,” says the alicorn, nodding at the group of some twenty-or-so Twisted oblivious of her.

Still invisible One just shrugs,

”Hey, Gem, can the two of us block this many Twisted from communicating?” she asks.

”I can help!” adds Seven, ”I mean… I know I’m no good, but if I can block at least one of them, it would be easier for you.”

”I think I can safely do six now that I’ve gotten used to it,” says Gem, ”We can show Seven how to do that.”

”The rest is up to me then,” One shrugs, ”Seven, catch!”

Standing behind me, the changeling groans quietly as he’s assaulted by a headache caused by bundled up information and skills coming through the hive mind. It takes him about a minute before he nods and says:

”I… I think I can do that.”

”Good. Pick one, and we’ll do the rest. Gem, let’s do this. Everyone else, get ready to deal with them. We’re just blocking outside communication so that we’re not facing with hundreds more, we’re not making them weaker.”

I take point, and wait for One’s signal.

”Now!” transmits One with a strained voice.

I jump out from behind a bend in the tunnel, and rush forward. All the Twisted turn to face me, and instantly charge at us.

*Click.*

Of course I push the wrong button in panic, and my full canister of fuel lands amidst the attacking group.

The blast knocks me backwards, scattering shattered and burning Twisted everywhere.

”Who’s supposed to read this now?!” yells Scream, pointing at her section of wall now covered in Twisted mess.

A horrible burning abomination lurches out of the hellfire to me still dazed and on the floor. It opens its mouth to screech or puke, and I have no doubt both will have catastrophic results.

*Psssshhhh!*

The mouth is suddenly filled with thick, brown foam. Within the span of a second, the head is more brown ball than anything else, and a moment later the smoldering Twisted keels over, obviously choked out.

“Get hugged!” squeaks Three in a high-pitched voice, three legs trembling as he’s standing on them while the nozzle of his foam launcher is still stuck pointing at where the Twisted’s head used to be, “You leave boss alone, spindly!”

When I grab Three, I start shaking too, realizing how close I was to becoming one of the monsters.

”You’re my hero,” I pull him into an embrace with his back against my barrel, ”Don’t forget that.”

With the dwarves rushing in behind us and incinerating the remains of Twisted dazed or downright wrecked by my accidental discharge, I wait until my breathing slows down again before standing back up.

”Boss, we’ve got a problem,” says Gem, ”I can feel more Twisted approaching.”

”I thought you blocked any contact?”

”Well yeah, we did, but they aren’t deaf!”

Great… I tried to protect them all, and now I might have screwed everyone over. Okay, think, think, think!

”Are they coming?”

”Yep, I sense another group like this,” One butts in, ”and we won’t be able to lock them off again. MY head is still spinning.”

”Agreed,” Gem nods, gritting her teeth.

”Seven?”

“Hnngh...” the changeling in question is lying on the floor, groaning, ”I’ll be… just give me… a second...”

”Five, drag Seven inside,” I order, and switch to real voice, “Dwarves, get rid of the remains so that we can fight, then follow Scream’s instructions.”

“Who is Scream?” asks the nearest soldier.

“Three, go be an interpreter again!” I nod at the drone who waves at the scanning dwarf and rushes to Scream’s wall, “Everyone else, make a bottleneck here. There’s only one access path here, so hopefully we won’t draw everything to us.”

Gem bolts a short distance away into the tunnel, puts two vials on the floor, and runs back to us.

”This should keep them from moving too much.”

”They can walk on the walls and ceiling. Just saying,” I add one tiny insignificant detail.

”Come on, dad. I’m not stupid.”

”Yeah, don’t diss Walter White here,” Scream pats Gem’s head, which of course ends with her hoof going through the changeling, ”Now, I’ve got good news and bad news.”

”Good first. I need some good news right now.”

”This wall contains the accurate measurements of the reality breaking pillars and the logic behind their construction, which means I can scale them up or down as much as I want.”

”Aaand the bad news?”

”There’s one more section we need to see, which should be about the crystals atop the pillars. The good part is that I know where it is.”

”The bad par-”

She points into the tunnel.

”The spookies are coming! Try to be a bit quieter next time.”

First Twisted charge from behind the tunnel bend we used before to surprise the local group, and keep running without a moment of hesitation.

I’m having some trouble understanding what happens next, when clusters of shiny black tentacles sprout from the floor and start binding Twisted, slowing them down or making them stumble.

A dwarf shoves a fresh flamethrower fuel canister into my weapon, and this time I press the right button. I can feel the heat from the lance of fire on my face, and have to shut off my nose to avoid throwing up.

Point.

Click.

Hold against minor recoil.

Repeat.

NOTHING will make me back off. Information keeps coming via the hive mind. Targets, decisions which will be made in the next millisecond, who is targeting whom, everything that makes changelings the best coordinated fighting force in existence.

Silence.

Okay, maybe running out of enemies will make me stop.

”It’s okay,” a hoof lands on my back, making me finally stop spewing fire into the now empty tunnel, ”No one else is there. It’s okay.”

They were everywhere…

Teeth, tentacles everywhere…

”Shhh… it’s okay,” whispers the soothing voice again, ”It’s always a shock the first time.”

To my surprise, it’s One who is by my side, speaking the calming message.

Under her ministrations, I lower my foreleg, and breathe out.

“Better?” she asks, and when I nod she smiles, immediately walking over to Five who is shaking, but at least in control. In the back, Gem is in the back by Seven’s side who is lying on the floor with his head in his hooves.

Three is just sitting by the wall, staring at it while pressing the trigger of his clearly empty foam gun repeatedly, only letting out weak farting noises. His mind is in complete chaos of fear, quick reactions, fear, images of Twisted lunging at him, and more fear.

We dealt with the paladins and the princesses, but this… was something else. There was no chance to talk, no chance to negotiate, no room for error as well. A single contact and your life might be over. Just thinking about it makes me start shaking again, but there’s a soul which needs me, and I’m the boss.

I don’t have time to be scared.

Gritting my teeth, I grab Three. He bites my foreleg. That finally makes him snap out of it, and he looks at me in pure horror.

“That’s okay, buddy,” I put him on my back where he hugs my neck, “We’ve dealt with worse than few snot ponies,” turning around, I point at a mass of building foam covering the side of the entrance, narrowing it significantly, “Great thinking with that bottleneck.”

“I- I- I- I just wanted-” he stutters.

“You did great. Keep it up, and you just might dethrone One from her own rank,” I chuckle.

Oh great… why did I have to say that right as she’s passing by?

One pats Three’s head, and nuzzles his neck.

“I’m not giving up that easily,” she just smiles and keeps going.

Who are you and what did you do with real One?

“You, ammo dwarf?” I call out.

“Bronze Plate, your Majesty,” he- no, she waves her foreleg and salutes.

“Help Three load another foam canister. I doubt Granite was dumb enough to send us out with only one charge, even if it was for Three,” I nod towards the ground, “Three, can you stand?”

He whimpers, but hops off of me. At first, he recoils when the dwarf reaches out to him, but then he realizes what he’s doing, and accepts the fresh canister and assistance.

”Do we have what we need?”

”Yes,” answers Scream, ”The second image is accurate enough. We need to haul ass, though. While you, nerd bug, and hug bug were having your mental breakdown, One told me that Twisted are moving, and this time it will be more than twenty. However, they’re confused about what happened, so we’ve got a chance to get out.”

”Look, I’ve never been-”

”In a real battle for your life? With no one fighting instead of you? In position to shove a foal into war? Yeah, congratulations, now get growing up fast! We don’t have time. If it helps, if any of us screw up, what will happen to everyone everywhere will be much worse than some slime changelings with tentacles coming out of their assholes prowling the underground.”

Getting angry won’t help anything.

”Everyone, do we know where to go?”

A chorus of agreements is the answer I get, and I realize that we really DO know the place, although it is long trek. It’s near the castle. Namely, just by the mouth of the tunnel which Eight collapsed to stop Twisted from potentially reaching Stompy.

So, right past the enclave, through the tunnels, and up by the ravine stairs.

All that while Eight bolts alarmed Twisted in the head, and the dwarves scare more and more off. By the time the dwarves have climbed up the ravine stairs, we’re flying around and shooting Twisted off of the sheer rock walls.

The real question is - how do we get out AFTER we have the images? We don’t know if there’s another route around, and the way to the castle is blocked off.

Screw it, images first, escape later.

As I tap my hoof against the floor after I land by the cave in, I look over the cliff edge, and grin.

”Eight, to me!”

She lands by my side two seconds later. I spit on the floor.

”Stomp here. Properly. The edge should break off,” I back away and warn others, ”We’re dropping the cliff on the bastards, get closer to the wall.”

“How’s the scanning going?” I yell out loud.

“We need ten minutes. We’ve just started!”

Ten minutes it is then.

*Boom!*

My ears pop as Eight hits the marked spot with both forelegs joined together.

Another hit.

Nothing happens.

”Not budging, boss!” she reports.

”Umm, can I say something, boss?” squeaks Three.

”Yeah?”

”The vertical break is about three hooves to the left from your spot,” he says, ”Sorry.”

”Eight, you heard him.”

As she raises herself on her hind legs to slam down again, the first Twisted arrive, pouncing from under the edge.

*Boom!*

This time I can feel the ground tremble under my hooves, and Eight jumps backwards. Cracks spread almost instantly, and our platform becomes about a pony length shorter as a plate of the whole cliff crumbles down into the depths, the shower of rocks taking dozens of crawling Twisted straight into magma deep down.

Of course, the Twisted climbing some distance away are already leaping over the edge, and eating first bullets from One’s dual pistols. One would be deadly against any living opponent who values their brain in one piece, but her precise headshots aren’t the best way to deal with enemies who need to be destroyed completely.

One picks another target currently climbing up, and with its head exploding it keels over backwards. A vial explodes in front of her, making black tentacles sprout from the rocky floor, grab the Twisted too close to One to be shot down, and throw it into the ravine.

”Thanks, honey!” One calls out at Gem, and with her immediate vicinity clear, she returns to sniping Twisted back down from the edge.

Eight unloads bolt after bolt, the kinetic force of her projectiles being enough to shoot down a Twisted no matter the place hit unlike One’s pistols. The problem is that the ravine is long, and we can’t cover the area of Twisted getting up on the platform.

We’ve formed a circle around the scanning dwarves, trying to defend ourselves in hope that we’ll find a way to get the information to Scream afterwards somehow.

Three screaming and burning skulls fly from behind me and explode with mad laughter, scattering Twisted everywhere.

For clarification, the laughter is coming both from Seven AND his magic skulls.

Huh, Seven and the screaming skulls sounds like a great music band name.

Grinning to myself at the thought, I fry Twisted in a sweeping arc on the left side of our half-circle. The trigger suddenly clicks, the pilot light flares, but nothing happens. I reflexively smack the alternative fire button which launches the empty fuel canister straight into an approaching Twisted’s face.

The face which suddenly takes on some stony features as Three envelopes the Twisted in building foam. A dwarf by my side buys me time as another one tosses me a fresh canister.

”Shit!” I hear Eight, but her cursing isn’t her problem, as I immediately receive an image of One under a waterfall of black worms,

“NO!” I scream, but what can I do? I can’t start toasting her. She’s on the other side of the circle anyway.

A burst of pink fire evaporates the Twisted, revealing succubus form of One enveloped in an aura of flames.

“STOP PUKING ON PONIES!” she screams, letting out a blast of energy from her foreleg which disintegrates half of a Twisted’s body.

She’s fine.

Thank holes.

Now, if we find a way to transform everyone into demons, we’ll be okay.

A Twisted’s leg lengthens and impales the dwarf next to me, dragging him towards the incoming group who swarm around him. There’s no way he can get out of this, so I launch my half-empty canister into the feeding frenzy. The fuel ignites and takes with it the soldier’s own supply, resulting in a small mushroom cloud clearing our side completely for few seconds.

Eight has run out of bolts, and is now cleaving through the enemies with the griffon Emperor’s sword. By all means, with this close contact she should be transforming already-

Ohhhh…!

Specks of fire evaporate Twisted blood and bits before they can touch her suit or helmet, and I recognize a flow of information between Seven and her, as the changeling mage summons fire shields where Eight’s hypersensitive reactions point out any potential contact.

”WE’RE DONE!” yells Scream suddenly, ”BUT IT WILL ALL BE FOR NOTHING IF YOU CAN’T GET THE PLANS TO ME! I NEED ONE AND NERD BUG!”

”You heard the alicorn!” I order, ”Eight, back off a bit. No shields for you for now. One, Seven, do what Scream tells you!”

”Nerd bug, get the banishment ritual ready. That will send One as well as everything she’s got straight back to me. I’ll send her back as soon as I can!” says Scream as One obliterates multiple Twisted with one shot, ”You, stop messing around and get the papers the dwarf is printing.”

Three, who has been running around and relaying Scream’s orders to the dwarves as well as helping everywhere else and serving as love source, throws his empty foam gun at a Twisted who lunges at him.

A barrage of red beams shreds the creature to steaming pieces, and more laughter, this time female, pierces the air.

“EAT MY GIANT LASER COCK!” Five, having run out of grenades to launch, has finally prepared her gatling turret, and is currently clearing the area with an arc of bright crimson death.

Disappearance of One’s link in a burst of flames signal Seven’s banishment ritual being successful.

”Boss bug, no one will know how much you helped save this world,” I hear Scream’s voice through growing haze of exhaustion, ”Heck, no one will know about MY role in things too.”

Another dwarf falls, and I grab his flamethrower. Everything feels slow now, and I can’t even feel the heat from the weapon anymore.

”You see, there’s one thing I didn’t tell you,” Scream continues as I empty another fuel tank, and don’t get a new one this time. My love blade slashes a Twisted in half, his blood splattering the visor of my helmet, ”I know the future. I will bring the god here, and I will die. Rather painfully. That’s how it usually goes, though. No one will thank us, no one will remember us. The only thing I’ll miss will be hug bug’s massages. That guy has real talent. Goodbye, little king.”

When did they surround me?

Eight, with her leg already transformed into a tentacle, sweeps Twisted away. Three has curled up behind the dwarven scanning device with his head under his forelegs.

I can sense Seven’s panic as he realizes that the dwarves are gone, and that he’s the last line of defense protecting Gem and Three.

This is our last stand.

With my many freshly open eyes covering the side of my barrel I see Eight using her hind legs and a fresh tentacle tail as a tripod while she’s slashing her sword in wide arcs, cleaving Twisted into pieces which reconstruct into more enemies.

“EiGHt! KiLl thEm aLl! TaKe AlL tHe fUcKS doWn With US!” I gurgle after biting another Twisted’s head off and spinning around with my dual love chainsaws grinding the skulls of enemies around.

I know Eight will fight as long as her self-control lasts. I know for damn sure I will.

But at this point it isn’t our last stand. We’re too far gone. I give one final glance to Gem running out of potions, Seven exhausted from the banishment ritual, Five firing her cannon like crazy, and Three curled up behind them.

It’s theirs.

34: The best infiltrator you'll ever fucking meet!

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“Uhhghhh...”

Battlecry shifts on her back. Something is preventing her from moving, something covering her like a heavy blanket. Under her back there isn’t her soft bed, it can’t be. Floor maybe? Floor with something soft on it.

Despite the unfamiliarity of the situation, she feels mellow, warm, and as she tries to move her hind legs which only twitch, a shiver of pleasure rushes from her nethers all the way up her spine, and leaves her as a slow moan.

“Mhmmm...”

Still, not being able to move is concerning enough to break through the fuzzy warm mist enveloping her mind. Finally, she opens her eyes, and confusion immediately takes over everything, at least until her memories start to trickle back into her head.

There’s green goo everywhere, and a large sack lying on her belly.

No… that’s not a sack, that IS her belly… saggy and without any of her previous fit tightness. She met Eight in the bathroom and… and…

Battlecry shivers just from the faint memories of what Eight did to her. She loved it. Battlecry was just a needy egg sack to be filled to Eight, but the queen wasn’t rough, only unstoppable, not that she would ever want her to stop.

And an indeterminate amount of time into their fun of filling, emptying, Eight toying with Battlecry’s mind, the dwarf passed out.

She shivers again, biting her lip at the realization. Eight certainly didn’t stop when Battlecry was unconscious.

Eggs… she was full of eggs at some point. Eggs which slipped out of her eventually, making her pass out again from ecstatic sensory overload. There are broken eggshells around, and she can hear noisy crunching everywhere. She must have given the mind-blowing birth quite recently.

Gathering the fragmented pieces of her mind still floating on cloud nine, Battlecry finally tries to push herself up into a sitting position again, resolved to ignore her trembling forelegs. It takes a while, and as she finally sits up, she sighs at the sight of how floppy and flabby her stomach really is now. She must have been like a ball.

She realizes that the persistent crunching has stopped with her movement.

After wiping the gunk from her eyes, she gasps. There are one… two… three… eleven tiny changelings who are staring at her as one. They are even smaller than Six, the… drone, was it? Battlecry doesn’t dare shake her head to clear the mist inside there, but she would do a lot right now to be able to think properly. Did Eight simply fuck her brains out?

She chuckles, and all eleven changelings twitch and grin. The shiver that runs down Battlecry’s spine isn’t a pleasant one this time. They might be small even when compared to a dwarf, but their teeth are sharp like tiny daggers. If she had to guess, they might reach up to her neck if standing up.

Hey, that one still has a piece of a shell on his head!

“Umm, hi,” she croaks. The changelings tilt their heads. The eggshell drops. The nearest changeling chomps it, “I… I think… I’m your mom.”

One changeling starts sniffing the frog of her hind leg. Another, more courageous one, climbs atop her soft belly, curls up and yawns.

“Alright, you’ll be Curly, you Sniffy,” she pouts when one begins gently nibbling on her left foreleg propping her straight, “You’re not going to be my favorite, Nibbles.”

She lets herself slowly back down onto the goopy carpet, and finds herself almost immediately surrounded by crawling changelings.

“Damn… eleven on the first try. I won’t be walking straight for weeks. I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” she decides to test something, booping Curly’s nose, “Do you react to your name, Curly?” then she boops Sniffy, “Sniffy?” all changelings raise their heads, “Curly?” all changelings raise heads again, “Sniffy?” again.

Come to think of it, they are supposed to share information and minds in some way, but this feels much different from how the king, Eight, and Five acted during group trainings. These guys, though… they feel as if they were a singular entity. One mind in eleven bodies, a mini hive mind? Well, they ARE smaller than anyone else, which might be just their recent birth.

And they are all numbered, not named.

“You know, I’ve changed my mind. How about I call you Eleven, all eleven of you?”

The changelings- or the changeling grins- grin. Stupid insufficient language.

Then they all perk up as one, and turn their heads towards the door. In somewhat horrified fascination, Battlecry watches the small mob that is Eleven leave the bedroom, which is followed by the sound of the outside door opening and closing.

“They grow up so fast...” Battlecry snickers, breathing out and closing her eyes. She can feel Eight’s venom still inside her, that’s what causing the fuzzy pink mist behind her forehead. She just needs to sleep it off.

The door opens again, and a pile of changeling comes back with twenty-two hugging legs. Some gentle squeezing later, Eleven is gone again.

Smiling from ear to ear, Battlecry gives up on ever questioning anything again, and passes out.

***

Eleven runs through unknown halls of the unknown angular place while many ponies are rushing in different directions. Everything is loud and big, but in the distance, there is the faint lure of a powerful mind which he needs to find in order to make sense of things.

He doesn’t know much. Some basic instructions on how to move, how to answer the call of the hive mind, and maybe, if he had time he could figure out how to transform, but not much else. That’s why it’s crucial to get to the shining mental beacon growing closer with every passed pony.

Dwarf, they are dwarves.

The faint trickle of information via the branching hive link is slow, so Eleven is gaining knowledge at glacial pace. That, however, isn’t too concerning. The mind calling out needs him- her- them… him is easy, let’s keep that identification, no matter how meaningless it is in Eleven’s case.

Eventually, Eleven reaches an enormous plaza with a wide bridge teeming with armed dwarves leading up to a castle. ‘The mind’ is on the other end, but it’s moving away.

Running around, under, or in some cases over the backs of dwarves, Eleven reaches the open castle gate and enters significantly quieter halls the floor of which is much softer on the tiny hoofsies.

Carpet, it’s called carpet.

One saw shape made of stone-

Staircase.

-staircase made of stone later, Eleven spots a HUUUUUGE changeling. She-

Eleven runs around the changeling while three Elevens start bouncing up and down in front of the changeling to have-

Yep! The Eleven under and behind the big changeling affirms that the big changeling is a mare.

Okay, let’s start over. The changeling mare is positively massive, and the three Elevens jumping in front of her can barely reach her knee. As tall as she is, she’s also incredibly broadly build, not entirely bulging with muscles, but radiating raw strength. Unlike Eleven whose chitin is pitch black, this changeling’s carapace leans towards blue-ish hue. The thing is… she ISN’T the mind drawing Eleven here.

She finally looks down.

“WHAT IN MY GLORIOUS BEARD ARE YOU?!” she roars, revealing teeth which could go through every Eleven’s skull in their entirety each..

Eleven backs off before the sound wave of sheer brute force, quickly listing through his very limited knowledge for the meaning of beard. She… doesn’t have any. Maybe she wants one and can’t have it? She needs cheering up.

Three Elevens hug each of the mare’s forelegs, climbing over each other to get higher. The others use the moment of her shock to get on her back where they lie down and hug whichever tiny part of her bright blue secondary armor plating they can reach. A single Eleven starts playing with the mare’s long, unkempt mane.

“I AM NOT USED TO FEELING HUGGABLE! HELP, THIS ABOMINATION HAS DOZENS OF LEGS!” the mare screams again, although at this point Eleven starts thinking that it’s her normal volume of speaking.

“Let’s go,” says a firm voice which doesn’t hurt Eleven’s ears. He turns his free heads around, and the bodies hugging big blue’s legs jump down to see who’s talking.

THAT is the mind.

This changeling is a dwarf-sized mare, her black chitin criss-crossed with gashes and scars. She looks skinny and hungry, but her mind is sharp like… like… as sharp as big blue is loud. Eleven pats himself on the back, literally, for finding the proper metaphor. Unlike big blue, though, the small lady’s tail is short, red, and covered in grime and ash just like her mane. Come to think of it, one of her eyes is milky white. Is that one blind?

One Eleven tries to hug the small red, but she shoves him away.

“Not now.”

There’s no animosity in her voice, just steel firmness giving the clear signal that there’s something far more important to do than comforting right now.

As big blue and Eleven follow small red, he feels mental instructions flowing into his heads. Those are for…

Ummm…

...some tiny changes? Inside? Eleven can’t identify what the process does, but applies it to all his bodies.

The three and at the same time thirteen changelings end their ascent through the castle followed by a descent into a tunnel in front of a cave-in, small red growls, making Eleven uneasy. There are muffled noises coming from behind the cave-in, and Eleven can sense several chaotic minds there as well.

“Damn it! That’s what I get for taking the fastest route. What fucking idiot collapsed the damn ceiling?!”

Small red tries to pull a rock away, and manages to dislodge a small one as well as cause the more to drop, having to dodge by jumping backwards.

“ROCKS, ROCKS?!” yells big blue, the volume making Eleven’s eyes cross in such small space, “I WAS PROMISED CAKE!”

Big blue shapeshifts her hoof into a spike, and slams it into the biggest rock she can reach, which splits into pieces immediately. Eleven goes to help, working in pairs to drag the fragments away.

“Get in the back, you’re just slowing her down,” orders small red. Eleven doesn’t even dream of disobeying, and all of him rushes back, deeper into the tunnel.

Big blue starts punching rocks like a frenzied sledgehammer. At first, more come with each impact, but soon she starts clearing everything. After a while, she takes several steps backwards, and in a burst of fire she grows a set of armor-plated horns on her head which gets covered in thick scales.

“ROOAAAAAAAAARRR!”

The deafening shout accompanies an explosion of rocks as big blue finally breaks through the cave in, the scatter sending many strange black and squiggly equines flying away into a depth.

“ALL YOUR BASE IS BELONG TO US!” big blue crushes the nearest confused squiggly into paste.

More information flows into Eleven’s mind this time. Names, mostly.

Three is the shaking drone lying on the floor, covering his eyes with his forelegs in such panic that he didn’t even register big blue… Cryo breaking through the cave-in. Seven is the changeling with glowing horn, barely standing steady on his legs as he keeps teleporting more and more… Twisted over the edge of the cliff. Gem, the changeling mare streaked with grey has just spat on a Twisted near her whose head melts under the saliva. Five…

Five has just been slammed against the floor by a big Twisted’s tentacle so hard that scraps of her chitin got scattered round. She coughs blood, but before she can get up, the Twisted is back on her, about to stomp her head to paste. Five barely rolls out of the way, and gets kicked away instantly into a group of more swarming Twisted.

“I’m baaaaack, and I brought whatever this is,” says small red… Two, nodding at one of Elevens.

A nearby Twisted who got through Seven’s magic opens its mouth to snaps its jaws at Gem who yelps and stumbles, falling on the floor. Eleven has no orders, but there’s one simple decision to make. Eleven might not have strength, size, or stamina, but he’s got teeth.

Five Elevens jump on the Twisted attacking Gem, his teeth tearing and crunching bones and flesh. Another five rush over to help Five choking under a pile of vomited worms. One Eleven stays behind to keep an eye on the battle.

Suddenly, Eleven hears a distinct voice in his heads.

”Where’s the boss, and where is my mother?” asks Two, ”And USE THE FREAKING SHAPESHIFTING INSTRUCTIONS, IDIOTS!”

”What is it?” asks Five, kicking a Twisted off of herself.

”Cure for the Twisted virus,” says Two with growing urgency, ”FIVE, WHERE ARE DAD AND MOM?!”

Every changeling does it on reflex without any visible change.

Gaining a moment of peace thanks to Cryo’s intervention as she cleaves and grinds suddenly afraid Twisted by whole groups, Five points at the big Twisted she was fighting- losing against before.

”THAT used to be Eight, and that,” she points at a strange Twisted just standing nearby and staring at the floor as his tentacles wave around, ”and THAT was the boss.”

“I leave you alone for few days...” growls Two.

”Three, I need you!” her mental voice breaks through Three’s stupor.

”T-Twooooaah?” Three’s eyes bulge as one Eleven breaks away from fighting and joins the remaining Eleven in lifting trembling Three and bringing him towards Two.

”Go to dad.”

”But- but he’s-”

”Go to him, and hug him. He’s been by your side in good and bad. Don’t betray him,” Two frowns at such cheap emotional manipulation, but it works on Three who grits his teeth, and runs towards the hesitant Twisted, hugging his legs.

He opens his maw filled with rows and rows of teeth to snap Three’s neck, but stops. The second is all Two needs as she isolates the mind from the mass of the Twisted, and rams the immune system transformation instructions directly into the boss’ head.

And that’s it.

No fighting, no roar, no grunting and groaning, only a simple burst of flames which burns away the monstrous features of the Twisted, and leaves behind scarred, rather smooshed, and incredibly confused boss. Three jumps straight at his head like the cuddliest happy little facehugger in history.

Five flies by, and with a sickening crunch bounces off of the rock wall. She doesn’t get up anymore.

The overbearing Twisted who supposedly was Eight rams into Cryo, sending the bigger ancient queen rolling away

”Stop, Eight.”

She keeps punching Cryo with everything she’s got, and I sense respect and worry from the surprisingly simple mind for a queen.

”Eight, stop! I know Two got through to you-”

“...well, I didn’t, really...” mutters Two.

”-I won’t lose you like this.”

Ex-Eight kicks massive Cryo away so hard she skips on the floor, scattering Twisted previously shaken by Cryo’s assault away like bowling pins. On the bright side, it does clear a good chunk of the platform.

I wish I could gather my breath, but there’s no time. Taking a page from One’s book, I just spin Three around my head, and tackle Eight from the side.

>YOU BELONG TO ME AND NOT TO SOME FUCKING TAPEWORM!<

The Twisted under me writhes, and snaps her jaws to rip my throat out.

What it ends as is a simple boop by Eight’s nose. She blinks.

”Are those fucking Two and Cryo?!” she chokes.

”We’re not fucking, but it’s us!” answers Two.

”I’ll forgive the language this time, young lady, just because mom started it!” I snicker, unable to comprehend the absurdity of the situation. An ancient queen I know only from the memory of Eight ripping her head off, Two is back, and Three, Seven, and Gem are alive due to unbelievable bravery of Five who is now-

Oh shit!

”THREE, HUG FIVE,” I order, ”Whatever that changeling… changelings… why do they have only one mind? Nevermind. Eleven, carefully grab the two and run up the tunnel with them. Leave the scanning equipment here. Seven grab the laser gatling. Eight, Cryo, cover the retreat!”

I was expecting at least Cryo to argue, but nothing of that sort happens. As the Twisted see us retreating, they regain courage faster and those previously still climbing up the ravine wall resume their progress.

”Three, can we collapse the tunnel again?”

”Yep!” all of us immediately receive the map of points of the tunnel to hit.

”Eight, Cryo. Do the honors.”

*Thud!*

Aaaand we’re all deaf and coughing dust...

...but safe.

All of us. Alive.

Actually, more of us than before.

”Gem, Three, get Five to safety and do ANYTHING so that she doesn’t die. Tell Six. Fighting Eight to the death isn’t something you do twice. Eight, you start thinking of the biggest cannon we can give her for what she did today. Maybe a gun that shoots more guns or something. She deserves it,” as they rush off, I stop for a second, thinking, ”First, we tell Granite what happened, then, once Five is stable, there’s a public bath in Brauheim. You,” I point at Eleven, then at Eleven, and then at three more Eleven, ”I mean all of you, stay around me.”

***

With a wet squelch, Two’s long drop from the grand bridge finally ends.

“STOP THROWING YOUR TRASH DOWN HERE!” screams a voice which even through her slipping consciousness sounds deafening.

Two’s body lurches to the side as she hears a faint hiss of something burning, and the stench of a pyre made of rotting flesh makes her gag. Strangely enough, that clears her mind for a moment to realize that her twisted and tentacled body touched the floating magma around, and shoved her away onto some black, glassy ground.

She should be baking here. It shouldn’t matter that she landed on some weird outcropping or something, she should still be sizzling like a bug on a frying pan, but she isn’t.

She can feel a mind nearby. There shouldn’t be anyone here. She made sure of it. No one should be going after her and risk infection from those… things.

Reaching into the mind, she finds… instructions. Fragmented, broken, makeshift instructions regarding a set of transformations.

”...maybe burning love… will make this… quicker...”

The mind is surprisingly simple, as if the only thing that mattered to it was the transformation. Two gathers the strength and clarity she doesn’t want to have. She did everything to stop herself from being a threat, but it looks like she still needs to do more. She can’t control her body much anymore, and even if she could, the tentacles clearly showed they won’t let her roll over into magma. Having no better idea on how to make her end faster, she tries the shapeshifting process.

Atom after atom, molecule after molecule, green fire eats away at her monstrous, black, wriggling flesh, making it melt and evaporate while replacing it with chitin. Her immune system is working overtime to accommodate the strange changes which drain her strength, but also revitalize her by purging all the disgusting foreign mess out of her.

In short, the tentacles fall off, her chitin returns, albeit in bruised, battered, and broken form, and when she finally finds the strength to roll over, she throws up black goo all over the weird ground.

How long did it take? She has no idea. It could have been minutes, it could have been days. Eventually, though, the heat from her left proves too much to handle, and forces her to shuffle to the colder place to the right.

Cold… actual cold…

Here?

The strangeness of it all is enough to make her finally push herself up.

“...wha…?”

She’s on a several ponies wide platform near the bottom of one of the many pillars holding the grand bridge up. The platform is made of black, uneven and sometimes jagged glass, and in its center…

...is a block of ice, a small, crystal clear glacier with the biggest changeling Two has ever seen frozen in its center up to her neck.

“...who… are you…?”

“PASTRIES ARE THE BEST SOURCE OF LOVE!”

Two clutches her head at the changeling’s voice.

“...I… I don’t… understand...”

“THE MOON IS FULL OF LIES!”

“Owww… my ears...” Two drags herself towards the block of ice, and curls up by its side, “I just need… a little… rest.”

“SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!”

“Why… why are you here? Who are you…?”

“IS THIS AN INTERROGATION?! I’M NOT USED TO SO MANY QUESTIONS. NOTHING FOR CENTURIES, AND NOW THIS! I’M JUST ONE DAY FROM RETIREMENT! WAIT, WHAT WERE YOU ASKING? I FORGET A LOT THESE DAYS,” the changeling glaring at Two blinks, “HEY, YOU ARE A CHANGELING! ARE YOU A DWARF PRETENDING TO BE A CHANGELING? ARE YOU A ROBOT PRETENDING TO BE A CHANGELING?”

Two simply waits and breathes, examining the changeling’s hive link. She closes her eyes, and slips into the hive mind. She’s too weak to reach out to anyone. Hole, she’s barely conscious enough to connect to this strange changeling.

She’s old, far older than Two can even imagine, and she must have been on ice for most of that time. Ice which isn’t something chemical or external, but a manifestation of the changeling’s strength given physical form. How that works, Two has no idea, but she did sense something similar from Eight, just pure power coming from physical perfection manifesting itself in a strange way. How the changeling is fighting the heat of the magma all around, and presumably has made this obsidian island a long time ago…

Two admits she’s way over her head in everything.

The hive mind is empty.

”Umm… hello?” Two looks around the darkness of the hive mind. While the changeling certainly can’t hurt her in the real world, her intentions here could be different, ”Is anyone here?”

”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” the changeling appears some two pony lengths above the ‘floor’, and drops, ”Hey, who turned the lights off? Why can I move? It’s warm here. My head hurts...”

Two realizes that as physically powerful as the changeling is, her mental ability is barely existent, and she breaks the connection.

“I SAW TWO OF YOU FOR A WHILE!”

“Can you… can you stop yelling?”

“CAN YOU HEAR QUIETER?”

“Just… just be quiet for a moment. I… I think I know what to do.”

Two puts her hoof against the ‘ice’, and smiles. She was wrong, it isn’t some mystic nonsense. It’s changeling goo made to be ice, infused with love, many… many kinds of love. The love of a whole hive given freely to keep their… queen on ice.

The queen who knew how to stop the infestation of the strange creatures Three released.

The love resists being taken, but Two doesn’t need much. After all, she’s young and physically undeveloped.

“HEY, THAT’S MY CAKE!” yells the queen, pouting as she watches a small section of her ‘ice’ melt under Two’s touch, “WHY AM I UP TO MY NECK IN CAKE?”

She has nearly no love inside her. Why? Why is she here?

Another realization stemming from Two’s understanding of the ancient queen’s mind comes to the infiltrator as she looks through the thinner layer of ice at her body. The queen is infested, heavily infested. Once again, why? She knows how to cure it, clearly, so she must have gotten to know the cure after she lost the ability to use it.

“Hey,” says Two, “I think I might be able to help you, but you can’t panic. I’m still too tired to do be forceful.”

“I CAN SEE MY HOUSE FROM UP HERE!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Once again, Two digs into the queen’s mind. It really is similar to touching Eight, but where Eight had her single-minded focus on boss’ orders, this changeling is just a big, bulky warrior queen, rather easy to take control of.

Two stops herself from going too far, and begins applying the infestation cure to the queen, which fails instantly.

“Ohhh...” Two suddenly understands, “You froze your body to stop the spread so that you had time to figure out the cure. That’s… amazing,” she breathes out. The queen is clearly a warrior, and she must have known it at the time. She must have known she wasn’t smart enough to figure out a cure in time, so she used brute force, her resilience, to make more time.

“MY LEGS TICKLE!”

“Oh, damn!” Two reminds herself that she’s been draining the love from the block of ice goo, making it disappear, and cycling it back into the queen while refilling herself a little as well. Now comes the difficult part - taking control of the queen’s body and mind to apply the cure again.

This time it works, and along with the melting ice, all the usual tentacle-y and wormy bits get burned away in blue fire releasing the queen’s true form.

“Heh, the blue effect looks much better then my green one-” Two’s eyes bulge as she realizes she’s being held high in the air by two hooves, each the size of her head, while under examination from a piercing blue stare of the ancient queen, “Umm, nice to meet you?”

“THIS RED POTATO IS NOT ONE OF MINE!”

“Pot- red- no, I’m a changeling. My boss is up there in the dwarf city,” she looks up, but can’t point due to the queen’s immobilizing grip.

“MY POTATO IS OLD AND WONKY!” with the subtlety of an industrial crane, the queen draws Two back into the hive mind.

“Way better,” she finally says in a volume compatible with keeping ears in one piece, “It seems like I’ve been asleep for way too long, and what’s left of me… isn’t exactly worth the upkeep.”

“You’re a changeling queen, aren’t you?” asks Two, curiosity defeating her worries for a moment.

“I used to be. My name was Cryo, or… I suppose still is, considering you’ve repaired my physical body.”

“What do you mean? You’re here, and your body is okay… if you don’t count yelling a lot.”

“Heh, you’re too young to know how we changelings work, and I’m too stupid to figure out how to use my current form. You see, I’m a… reflection, a hive mind memory stored in this old Cryo’s whole body, but the real me inside the brain is old, derelict, and… dumber than a rock, really. If I was a good infiltrator or something, I might be able to win the control of the body from the real me, but… quite honestly… I don’t think I’d want to anyway.”

“Why?”

“Do you like stories?”

“Yeah, a lot!” Two smiles.

“Well, we’ve got time for a short one before this island gets washed away by magma, since my ice isn’t keeping it cold anymore. I don’t know if I’ll be able to contact you like this again, so listen and think about questions at the same time. Neither of us are good enough at mind tricks to stop time in here completely.”

Cryo takes a deep breath, and when she speaks again, her voice sounds urgent, as if trying to impart something she won’t have a chance to repeat.

“Chrysalis was a fool to continue her mother’s crusade to dominate the world under changeling rule. All of us high-generals understood it after our defeat at Canterlot, and we scattered, keeping our close followers as new hives. Most of us just wanted to hide, knowing that instead of uniting the world under our rule, we united them against us. Shadowstep was the only one who believed in Chrysalis’ plan, but she wasn’t there. Griffons, ponies, zebras, dragons, minotaurs… everyone except the damn dwarves defended the royal city, and in that battle we saw our future. Hole, griffons and ponies were in an off-and-on war forever until we came. Shadowstep sent help, but she couldn’t spare enough, because her sustained campaign against the griffons led to the union of the military of the fractured forces. I hope the griffons pissed on her corpse when they got her. If she supported us against Chrysalis, it would have been all high ranks against the queen, and maybe… maybe we could have salvaged something.”

“I… I don’t know anything you’re talking about. Names, places… anything,” Two looks Cryo in the eyes.

“Just listen. We fled north, having heard legends of an artefact able to amplify love. Soon, though, we were hunted by Chrysalis’ changelings, hives of the other escaping generals who wanted love, and of course everyone else. There weren’t many of us who got this far and we didn’t find the legendary artefact, but we found the dwarves, infiltrated them, and used them to recover. However, we didn’t want to be a part of their society. We wanted a place of our own, so we dug deeper, and found… the machines.”

“Machines?”

“Yes. Broken but still talking equine machines who needed our help - the dwarves.”

“Wait, dwarves live up there in a big city, and they look normal… not mechanical at all.”

“Shush. They told us about a war they’ve been locked in for millennia, war spanning the whole continent going on underground. You see, they didn’t start as machines, they used to be normal small ponies, but the enemy they fought was able to infest their biological bodies, and turn those into more of themselves. Twisted, they called the monsters. After a massive undertaking of their scientists, they found a way to transfer their minds into machines, eliminating the enemy advantage. Unfortunately, it took too long - fighting, burning bodies, clearing every inch of an underground network the size of which even we changelings couldn’t believe. The dwarves were almost victorious in their war, but they screwed up. They bred more and more dwarves only to transfer their minds into more machines, and in the end they lost everything that made them who they were. By the end of the war, anyone unwilling to transfer their mind was imprisoned, and the dwarves began indoctrinating new generations from birth. The minds of the those, however, were weak, having been trained only to fight from early age, nothing but sets of combat instructions poured into machines which degraded faster and faster. The situation reached critical mass here in the north, so close to victory. Unable to finish the purge due to their soldiers shutting down mid-fight, the dwarves and Twisted met in a final battle which left the Twisted in retreat, so the dwarves locked them in an old shaft, and spent all their remaining time preparing a system by which they could keep the Twisted sealed from anyone with bad or uncertain intentions.”

“Which is why the seal opened for Three...” Two breathes out, “He doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body.”

“Which brings us to my hive. The dwarves asked us only two things. First, they needed us to scour the underground for any solitary Twisted the ancient combat force didn’t manage to purge. Those things supposedly didn’t move much unless they spotted a target, so they wouldn’t have spread too far despite the final battle happening so long ago. We received the technology to find and fight them. Second, they wanted us to release the prisoners from the nearby prison so that they could continue the real dwarven race. We found out that the dwarves in the nearby city were the descendants of those who already escaped from the prison, so we went hunting.”

“I suppose that the next part leads to you getting infested by those… Twisted, right?” Two tilts her head.

“Well, I wanted it to be the big reveal, but I’ve never been much of a brain, so it makes sense for you to come to that conclusion sooner than I wanted,” Cryo huffs.

“You know, don’t take it as an insult, but I thought you’d be more haughty as a queen.”

“I’ve had time to think about what I did right and what I did wrong. I’m much more a puncher than a thinker, which also leads us rather nicely to why I was sitting for some seven hundred years on ice.”

“You found the Twisted,” Two winks at her.

“Stop that, smartass!” Cryo gently smacks Two over the head, which of course means that the shove makes the vastly smaller changeling do a cartwheel in the air. Thankfully, doing this inside the hive mind isn’t too damaging, “Yes, we found them, and no, there weren’t many of them. Unfortunately, while we had some protective equipment, we weren’t good at ranged combat, so after our weapons stopped shooting light, in the heat of the battle I had the bright idea to order a charge,” Cryo closes her eyes, and wipes a tear, “I had to kill my entire hive as they infested each other. They gave me more love than I could hold, but I had to. I destroyed every single body, threw each of them into the lava.”

“Magma.”

“What?”

“Lava is the black stuff that’s cold. Magma is the flowing, red, hot death around us.”

“Screw you!” Cryo scowls, but thaws as Two leans against her foreleg and nuzzles it, “Oh… well… nevermind then. So, in the end, I jumped off of the bridge too. Unfortunately, or maybe not, my infested ass was so full of love of my whole hive that when I dropped, it glassed a small island. Cryo isn’t just a random name. I was good at punching and freezing stuff. Well, when all the love inside me refused to give up and die, I used everything to freeze myself, to stop everything going in my body, only leaving my head so that I could think and figure out how to remake my immune system to defeat the infestation. In the end, I grew senile and degraded too much to be able to use it on myself, or to even remember what I was doing...” she punches the air victoriously, “But I damn well did it! We stopped the scattered Twisted, and I found the cure. If there’s the best changeling hive in history, it’s me! Choke on a dragon dick, Shadowstep!”

Two starts feeling rather hot, even her in the darkness.

“Umm… what’s going on?” she asks.

“Oh right, the platform we’re on is melting,” Cryo shrugs, “Anyway, it’s good to know what I did won’t be useless, and if at some point you manage to restore my senile self’s mind… be nice to the grandma, she’s been through a lot.”

Real world returns, Cryo grabs Two with one foreleg, and shoots up just as the obsidian island breaks into pieces.

“IT’S A CLOUD! IT’S A FLY! NO, IT’S A SUPERBUG!”

*Crunch!*

Blinking after hitting the cavern’s ceiling, Cryo redirects her sudden drop onto the grand bridge.

“HA HAA! STILL FLYING! OR WHY IS EVERYTHING SPINNING?”

Two tries to reach out for other changeling minds, but can’t connect to anyone, although she does catch some overall uneasiness.

“How long was I out, and what went wrong this time?” she rolls her eyes.

35: Finishing off side-quests, and earning last Paragon points before the final battle.

View Online

With a pleasured moan of relief after everything that’s happened recently, I lower myself into the steaming water of the Brauheim public bath house built around a hot spring. To be completely accurate - built around a place into which the water heated by a magma flow near the mines has been redirected. Of course, the bath house today is much more private than public, because Black Soil used the council authority and money to rent the whole place for us changelings for today.

We deserve it after yesterday.

Right now, I’m sitting in a large, shallow pool reaching to my waist in a wide, open room alone, so I let my back rest against the floor, and only prop my head so that I don’t drown. Sadly, this place is still dwarf-sized, but the water is hot, and it does wonders to relax the aching muscles under my chitin. Closing my eyes, I gently inspect the hive links in case of any unexpected trouble.

For once, there’s nothing.

“Heya, boss!” Three is the second to arrive, stopping at the edge of the pool, and cautiously dipping a hoof inside. He and Six are the only one who will be able to use the pool effectively thanks to their size.

“Hi, Three,” I smile without opening my eyes, “Hop inside, the water is aaaaawesome. I wish we knew about this place a lot earlier.”

A rush of hoofsteps announces the approach of Eleven. I don’t even know where to start with it- him- them- eh, let’s go with him. Come to think about it, with the size of his bodies, the pool will find its use in the end. No idea how Eight managed to spawn something like Eleven, but we found a fun way to call him just in case it happens again at some point - a swarmling.

To explain, we didn’t have much time to sort things out yesterday after Two saved all our asses. Eight and I were exhausted, Five was at death’s door after trying to fight Eight, Seven was barely standing due to the magic expenditure, so we just split up, informed Six and Ten to stop panicking, and then we enjoyed our newest favorite hive game - collectively passing out. I woke up in the afternoon today, checked out if anything has gone horribly wrong, and after discovering that nothing had, I wanted a break from everything, at least for today.

Which brings us to here and now.

“Eeeek, Eleven!” Three beams.

“Hello-”

“-Three-”

“-we-”

“-learn-”

“-talk-”

“-now.”

Neat. For a day-old little monstrosity, he’s learning fast, although synchronizing how he talks will take some practice. I mean, each head saying one word, but in perfect cadence of a normally speaking changeling, is kinda creepy. Coupled with the fact that after seeing him fight yesterday, my stomach still kinda turns. He’s weak, but he’s got teeth similar to One’s, like a swarm of piranhas.

“Boss! Bossbossboss! THEY’RE ADORABLE, CAN WE KEEP THEM?”

Three apparently disagrees.

“Obviously yes,” I mumble.

“Eeeeeeeee!” Three’s just letting out this weird, quiet, high-pitched squee, unable to decide how to proceed, while Eleven is giving him a needle-y smile of pure, innocent joy. It’s a weird creature, but a simple one as a freshly born changeling who’s seen some shit pretty early into life.

A tiny Three appears on real Three’s shoulder. This one is white with short, blond mane, and has angel wings on his back.

”Hug him- them, I mean! Hug ‘em all!” he says.

With another poof, a second, red Three appears floating above real Three’s other shoulder, this one with demon wings.

”Hey, you look like miss One!” thinks Three.

”I agree with the overall huggery,” says demon Three.

”Wait, aren’t you supposed to be my evil side or something?” Three tries to poke the ‘evil’ one who quickly dodges out of the way.

”Well, I dunno,” ‘evil’ Three thinks for a moment, ”Hug them all… BUT HARDER! MWAHAHAHAAAA!”

Finally decided on the right course of action, Three scoops four Elevens, trying to hug them all at once.

The Elevens who remain un-squeezed exchange glances, and then pile on Three in return. Literally.

“AAAAH, SO MANY LEGS FOR HUGGING!” squeaks Three, muffled by a pile of chitin covering him completely.

“You okay, Three?” I raise my voice a little, but remain in the water.

“I’M DYING OF HAPPYYYYY!”

Heavy steps followed by splashing of water sharply contrast with the background of giggling and shuffling coming from Three and Eleven.

“So you are Two’s king...” the deep, lightly nasal voice of Cryo makes me open my eyes, and sit back up. Considering that my only experience with her is her hive mind memory version who was less than friendly, her massive body towering over me isn’t exactly comforting.

She’s as tall as Eight despite a shorter horn, and even broader. She kinda reminds me of a beetle in a way, but I wouldn’t say it to her face. Her blue eyes, mane, tail, and secondary plating makes her fairly similar to me, though. Strangely enough, she’s not yelling nonsense like yesterday, but Two said something in Cryo’s mind was sort of… damaged, so I should be patient with her. Considering she’s the one who figured out the cure for the Twisted infection, I won’t be complaining any time soon.

“Yes, but I prefer boss or dad, really,” I answer, curious and a little worried about where this is going.

“There can’t be two rulers in one hive,” she says, making shiver run down my spine despite the steaming water.

Is she… challenging me to a duel?

No. She doesn’t strike me like the scheming type. If she wanted to fight me, she wouldn’t be talking. She’s a warrior if ever I saw one. So… what does she mean?

“I doubt anyone from my hive would call me a ruler. More a caretaker, maybe. I just want to offer a safe home to any changeling who wants it.”

“DO YOU KNOW WHO MY COFFEE IS?” aaand her ‘normal’ self is back.

“Uhh, what?” I lean away from the loud voice which finally interrupts Three and Eleven’s playtime.

Cryo shakes her head.

“MY BEARD IS BEYOND MEASURE!”

“Do you want to stay with us?” I give my, at this point usual, strategy a shot.

“MY GLORIOUS HIVE AGREES!” Cryo smiles victoriously.

“Where... are they?” I turn my head. Aren’t they supposed to be all dead… most by her hoof? Ohhhhh… I think I understand now. Ancient, long lost and broken queen, with nothing but memories.

Easily tapping into her barely protected mind, I instantly know how right I was. She’s not even carrying her hive like I carried the rulers inside me, all she really does have are fractured, mostly faded memories of her changelings. Maybe she deserves a chance to make some more?

With a smile, I chuckle:

“Two could always use an aunt.”

“IMUSTGO,MYHIVENEEDSME!BZZZZZZZ...” Cryo’s wings make waves as she floats up, hits her head against the ceiling, and then disappears through the door out.

“I think she’s just nervous,” the air nearby wobbles, and Gem appears, slowly stepping into the pool, “Ahhh… I could do this every day,” she lowers herself next to me.

“How long have you been listening?”

“Since Three got mobbed,” Gem laughs as she nods to Three now walking around with one Eleven on each his legs, one on his head, and two on his back.

“Look, I’m giving buggy rides now!” he tries to raise his hoof to wave, but carrying a live, pint-sized changeling bracelet is still too much weight to do that.

“How about you two come in here?” offers Gem, “You’ll love the water.”

Aaand now the pool is a lot more lively.

***

In the changing room outside, Eight is sitting on a bench, staring into nowhere.

Five…

The courage it took for the warrior to fight Eight…

The result of the fight was a forgone conclusion, obviously, but she never gave up, she would fight to the death if she had to. Luckily, she didn’t. She would, of course, play any mention about it off as just existing to serve the hive, but Eight has known a lot of warriors… hole, she killed countless of them in her life for food or practice… and the courage something like this must have taken was astounding.

Eight is genuinely at loss for words and, more importantly, any ideas how to appreciate what Five did properly.

Speaking of the badly bruised and scarred warrior with fractures criss-crossing her chitin, she limps from behind a row of lockers, and gives Eight a quick bow, her diamond nose ring catching the white light coming from the ceiling.

“Is anything wrong, queen?” she asks.

Eight looks up at her and smiles.

“Nothing, and drop the title. You did an excellent job, Five, and I don’t consider you as someone under myself.”

“I only serve the hive, q- Eight,” Five looks at the floor, but Eight is sharp enough to notice the ripped corner of Five’s mouth curling up a little. A dismissive wave of Eight’s hoof makes the wounded warrior start walking away.

“...then we’ll do our best to make this a hive worth serving, Five...” whispers Eight after Five leaves.

With a sigh, Eight stands up, and hears a fresh set of soft hoofsteps enter. Looking towards the entrance, she spots Two who is staring at her with a determined expression. The young infiltrator has cleared the worst of her wounds and scars from fighting the transformation, but has left many as mementos of what she’s gone through. Healing her milky white eye is beyond her power, though.

“I’ve come to apologize,” says Two, not breaking eye contact with Eight as she approaches, “What I did to you down there was stupid beyond all imagination. I accept any punishment which I more than deserve.”

Eight puts a hoof under Two’s chin.

“I thought you came here to have a relaxing bath,” she sighs, “Look, I’ve said my piece about leaving you as an egg, and I stand by it. My decision was the correct one at the time, and my only goal was getting the boss back at any cost. I don’t regret anything, but now I have one more reason not to. You’re my daughter. I’ve been through adversity and hell very few other changelings can understand, and that’s what makes us grow. Without other changelings trying to kill me on daily basis, without fighting stronger and stronger ranks I wouldn’t be the changeling I’m now, and the same is true if I hadn’t met the boss. You… you’ve had to deal with problems hive infiltrators can’t even dream of since day one from what I heard, and you’ve come out self-sufficient. That’s all I could ever hope for. If you ever have a problem, I likely won’t listen to you crying about it and comfort you, but I will do my best to kick you in the right direction. You’ve made me proud, and I’m sure you will do so again many times in the future.”

Two shifts under Eight’s focused stare, but before she can say anything, Cryo barrels through the changing room door, yelling:

“I AM YOUR WISHING WELL NOW!”

And now the mother-daughter moment is irrevocably fucked.

Eight walks over to Cryo, brows furrowed.

“Huh… I remember punching your horn through your skull.”

Cryo beams.

“I ENJOY CUPCAKES!” she offers Eight a hoof to shake.

“She’s happy to meet you, I think,” translates Two, “As a brutal warrior meeting another one or something of that sort,” she turns to leave, “Anyway, that’s all I wanted. I was ready to face my punishment without whining and evasion. I’m sorry… that’s all.”

Eight stops shaking Cryo’s hoof, and catches up to Two.

“You will go and train under One once she gets back, which I’m sure she will. Her personality will be punishment enough. Now stop apologizing and don’t let your hot head control you again.”

“Look who’s talking,” Two and Eight lock stares for a moment, then they both grin, and Two adds, “Mom.”

“BZZZZZZZ!” Cryo starts bumping into a ceiling light.

Eight just rolls her eyes.

***

Peace.

Seven and Six arrived soon after one another. Even Ten came from Rift, although Bright Star couldn’t make it on account of some business deal with the minotaur warlord. I would have liked to listen to more stories about the world outside, and this time I don’t mean gathering information about a horrible cult of overpowered tentacle guys.

Cryo is juggling three Elevens for some reason while Eight is trying to do the same. Two thinks she’s sneakily observing Gem, but the slightest peek into Gem’s mind shows she’s fully aware and slightly amused by it.

A burning portal appears above the pool, spitting out One on fire which hisses out when she belly flops into the shallow water. Teeth bared, she immediately turns around and glares at Seven.

“Why didn’t you braindead fucknugget redo the summoning ritual immediately?!” she yells in his face. Of course, said target being Seven, he’s just quietly smoldering under the fiery stare of a pissed off, hot mare. Alright, enough of the fire puns, “Making me do a bunch of random teleports and stuff...” One ends up grumbling.

“I take it that giving the documents to Scream went well?” I save Seven by drawing One’s attention. She just shrugs.

“She took what I brought, then I waited for this demonologist wannabe to bring me back to save your asses, and once I was almost sure he got eaten already, I started teleporting around Equestria. It didn’t help that I had only a faint idea where you really were.”

“Two got to us in time with a method to fight the infection inside,” I nod to Two now openly staring at One with her jaw dropped.

“Neat,” One closes Two’s mouth manually, “Saves me the questions about who she is. By the way,” she adds innocently, “Why is there a fucking Cryo here, juggling a changeling abomination with eleven bodies and one mind?”

One Eleven hugs One’s foreleg, presumably trying to make friends. After observing the swarmling, and a half-hearted attempt to shake him off, One rolls her eyes, “Screw it, you were a drone with double-digit amount of changeling rulers in your head. Who am I to argue?”

That makes me laugh. Eight apparently realizes something, and drops all three Elevens who splash into the water.

“Hey, One, I’ve got someone to punish. She’ll be your infiltrator pupil,” Eight points at Two.

“Sadist...” One grins, “What is she in for?”

“High treason against the hive, technically,” Eight waves her hoof dismissively, “But I think that with the right training, she’ll be able to match Gem here one day.”

Gem feels Two’s prying mental influence through her hive link, and smiles to herself.

”Nice try, but you’re wasting a lot of energy needlessly,” she answers internally, making Two freeze by taking control of her body instantly, ”Miss One is an excellent teacher, but if it ever becomes too much, I’ll be happy to spend some time with you if I’m around.”

She lets shocked Two go. One, of course, is fully aware of the exchange, and through her, so am I.

“Let’s leave the details for later. Today, we’ve earned a bit of rest and relaxation,” I cut all business talk short.

***

It’s two days later, and Hard Reset has called all of us to the castle workshop rebuilt into the most advanced dwarven laboratory in Brauheim. The dwarf meets us by the entrance, and when the metal door slides into the wall with a hiss of air, I can immediately see Stompy standing in the center of a large room behind a window straight ahead, seemingly in one piece.

“Welcome to the lab, king,” the young dwarf greets our small procession, “Please, don’t touch anything or use magic here. It might interfere with our readings, and our improved equipment is makeshift at best.”

“What’s this all about?” I ask, “Granite told me you wanted all of us here, but didn’t say why.”

Hard Reset shifts in his armor-plated lab coat, and clears his throat.

“In short, we need your help. Three told me you had a way of surviving the contact with Twisted, which unfortunately works only for you. We haven’t been able to make any relevant protective equipment despite Stompy’s help yet, although we’re getting somewhere with the personal energy barriers, and we don’t have the few months for full development and testing,” he sighs, “I’m sure Granite told you that the patrols have chased Twisted away quite often, but they are spreading deeper into the underground, albeit slowly. We need to stop that, but you’re the only ones who can do it safely. In the meantime, we’ve had to close off four more deep core mines, which is hindering our ability to stick to the minotaur trade treaties, and eventually it will limit our ability to replenish broken research equipment or even ammo for long-range weapons.”

“We can fight them, quite effectively even now that we don’t have to worry about infection, but we can’t find them.”

According to Two’ story about Cryo, her hive was able to finish the purge, but they had the original Silversmith equipment which we don’t have, other than Stompy. However, that’s where Hard Reset gives us an encouraging smile.

“While we haven’t been able to replicate weapon and shielding systems,” he says, “We’ve got the third best thing - sensors, namely the area scanner and its power source. It’s kinda big, so one of you will have to carry a backpack, but it can detect Twisted quite a long distance away. From the underground maps Stompy and Three drew for us, we’ve managed to draft a route you should take to be able to scan the vast majority of the area. We’ve set up ultrasound probes we use to repel the wildlife so that Twisted didn’t have any biomass to follow too far. If you check the route we made up, we think you should catch and eliminate all the remaining Twisted.”

I shrug. I’m pretty sure that the last time we fought them our weakness was caused by the infestation, so if we can fight head-on we should be able to deal with a lot, especially if we’re well armed.

No, this isn’t even a decision. We can’t run away from this if Twisted spread, so we have to finish what the ancient dwarves and later Cryo’s hive failed to.

“Yay, we’ll teach the spindlies friendship!” Three punches the air.

Behind the window, a plate on Stompy’s shoulder slides away, and a pilot light of a flamethrower flares up.

“Fires of friendship fully operational, high-general,” rumbles the mech, surprising the passing dwarven engineers.

Good hearing. I wonder if Stompy is a machine, or one of the old dwarves made into machines. I should ask at some point.

”You know that he really thinks that’s what’s going on, right?” asks One inside my head, her question shielded from everyone but Eight.

”I’d rather be a punching bag for that Vigil guy than tell Three he basically annihilated half of a species with the BFG, hostile or not,” I reply with the vocal equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

”Huuuuh,” One takes a pause, ”I see where you’re coming from, which isn’t a double entendre for once.”

“Oh, and speaking about fire,” Hard Reset smacks his forehead, “We’ve managed to stabilize a plasma cell for the BFG. We had to do it at night and turn off the whole power grid for few hours, but we’ve got one. It kinda burned out our systems, though, so no idea when we’ll be able to make another.”

I simply nod and turn around to face everyone.

“I guess saying that you don’t need to come with me is pointless-”

Nod nod nod from everyone.

“-so I won’t bother with it. Take today off. Sort out what you need to, go around feeding if there’s nothing you want to sort out. I’ll talk to Granite about the equipment we’re going to need. I’m afraid that a complete purge like this might put us face to face with that Vigil guy, and it might get nasty. That’s all.”

They all bow. Well, Cryo doesn’t, but even she sits down. Shortly after, they scatter.

***

Crumble finishes unloading a minecart filled with iron ore when she hears:

“Hi, mom!”

Turning around, she faces Two, and her body reacts before her brain in rushing over and hugging her daughter. Only then she notices Eight standing behind her, watching Crumble silently.

“TWO!” she nuzzles the changeling, but adds coldly, “Queen...”

Two breaks the hug, and conjures up an apologetic smile.

“I’m so happy you’re alright.”

“Still a little stiff around the chest, but nothing some light cardio won’t sort out,” she encircles the iron ore unloading bay with her hoof, “Now, you know I’m always happy to see you, but what is… she doing here?” Crumble nods to Eight.

“-” Eight opens her mouth, and then closes it, realizing she has absolutely nothing to say. A moment of thought later, she tries again, “We won’t see eye to eye, that’s obvious, but our daughter is remarkable. That’s all. I’ll give you some time alone.”

Walking behind the nearest bend in the tunnel, Eight shakes her head, and sits down. Crumble has all reasons to hate her with the exception of one, and said reason is just talking to her. There’s nothing Eight could do or say to make things better aside from lying outright about being sorry for what she did, and Two would of course know she’s bullshitting.

“I just wanted you two to get to know each other better,” says Two, now hesitant.

“Honey, you know what she did to both of us. I could forgive that, but I can’t forgive the uncaring cruelty with which she split the city and caused so much pain. I just can’t,” says Crumble quietly, “I quite like the king, but her… I’m sorry, Two. And I think she realizes that, which is why she didn’t want to ruin the moment.”

Two closes her eyes, and smiles.

“I suppose you’re right. It was stupid to think everything could be forgiven so easily, but I still want you to know that as long as dad thinks of this place as home, she’ll be the best ally you can ever have in defending it.”

“That’s all I needed to hear to sleep better at night, honey. So, come on, have a seat and tell me what happened since you visited me at the hospital?”

“Sure. I want to visit Topaz later, though, and do some… feeding, if you know what I mean… Well, if he forgives me.”

“Honey, if his feelings for you are real, he will.”

Two’s smile widens.

“So, I’ve got an aunt now-”

***

With a lot more hesitation, Two knocks on a different door in Brauheim, and immediately hears slow hoofsteps inside. In the next moment, it opens, and…

...Eight can’t stop a smirk as Topaz crushes Two in a bear hug, tears welling in his eyes.

“I… I...” the soldier is speechless.

“You’re... crushing... me,” Two chokes out, making Topaz back off instantly.

“I’m sorry about what I said. I couldn’t bear knowing that was the last thing you heard from me before… before… you… I thought you died...”

Two’s shy smile grows more certain. He didn’t consider her a monster for how she acted when Eight was in trouble.

Well, or maybe he did, but it wasn’t as much of a deal as she made of it. Whatever the reason, it certainly makes her breathing a lot easier.

“I got better,” Two grins.

“Your eye...” Topaz takes Two’s face into his hooves.

“Yarrr, Ah need to get meself a wooden leg!” Two softly shoves Topaz’s forelegs away.

The soldier wipes his eyes, and looks behind Two at Eight.

“Your Majesty… will Two be okay?” he asks, now uncertain, but Eight’s light, amused smile makes him hopeful.

“I think she redeemed herself many times over,” says Eight, “Now, speaking of redemption. We’re going to have to go down into the deep again tomorrow, so Two could use a refill. In fact, we both could.”

“Hooves off, slag!” Two pokes Eight’s chest, “That’s my dinner.”

“I was just offering some mother-daughter bondage- I mean bonding. And isn’t it my job to assess your coltfriend?” Eight fakes a hurt expression.

“Not with your actual ass, though,” Two narrows her eyes.

“Got other holes-” the corner of Eight’s mouth twitches at the sight of Topaz’s incoming heart attack.

“No running on technicalities!”

“Fiiiine, fine!” Eight backs off, “I’ll leave you two foals alone then. Have fun!” she gives Topaz a playful wink, still, “But If she comes home before midnight, we’ll have words! Words like ‘ouch’.”

“Mooooom!” whines Two as Eight turns around and walks away, victorious.

***

Not too far away, still limping Five stares at Six standing at a shooting and throwing range.

“So what can I help you with?” she asks.

“This!” Six smiles, offering her something long and thin wrapped in what looks like a tablecloth, “The dwarves haven’t managed to copy Stompy’s weapons, but I bribed few to have a look at your laser turret thingy.”

“If they disassembled it, I’m shooting you out of the biggest cannon the dwarves have.”

“No no no no no!” Six waves his hooves defensively, dropping the thing which Five catches faster than Six can react, “I mean… they put it back really well, but they managed to make this,” he nods to the package, “It needs you to have claws or talons to use it, so it’s just for you.”

Five unwraps it, revealing a long, shiny barrel ending in a beautifully carved wooden stock depicting number five on one side and a flower on the other.

“Five, and a flower as in flower pot. I get it,” Five smirks.

“That’s not all,” Six points at a distant target, “That thing just by the stock is a griffon trigg-”

A burst of red light hits the stone pony target, leaving a scorch mark on its chest.

“Not bad, but a little wimpy,” Five puts the weapon to her ear, listening to strange, quiet hum from inside, “I like the range, though.”

Six pouts.

“Well, that’s not all,” he takes the laser rifle from unresisting Five’s hooves, “I’ve got a little piece to add just for you,” he takes a shorter tobe with glass on both ends, and affixes it to the rifle, looks into it, adjusts it few times, and then adds, “This is a scope. It will help you see even further than you normally could. Aaand the final touch,” he messes around with a bulkier bit between the stock and the barrel, “Try it now, and let’s pick a softer target,” he points to a different shooting lane.

On three legs, Five aims at a pony made of straw, wood, and wrapped in occasional piece of armor. Putting her eye to the scope, Five smirks, finding a spot between the dented helmet and the breastplate.

*Whoosh!*

The target pony bursts into flames instantly, and leaves only a smoldering heap as well as we pieces of charred armor within seconds.

“I’m learning to maintain and even improve that thing. It should be effective at three times the range you just tried, but it takes time for the energy crystals to recharge,” Six observes Five examining the rifle with a VERY satisfied smile, “Dwarves can’t make anything that fires too fast, but this is the best they did on such short notice. I doubt it would be too useful down here, but since Ten can get us on the surface, you might get to try it for real-”

He’s suddenly staring at the face of Five, her teeth barely an inch away from his muzzle. Then she pushes him over on his back, and puts the rifle carefully on the table. Come to think of it, there’s no one else around this late in the evening.

“Now, we can do this Eight’s way, or Three’s way,” she slowly licks Six’s nose.

“Can we take it slow?” he squeaks.

“Three’s way it is then,” she curls around the smaller drone, but with enough suggestive intent clearly relayed by her hind leg between his, and by her soft licking of his neck from behind.

“Imma happy lil’ drone...” mumbles Six.

***

*Tap tap tap tap tap!*

Battlecry turns her head.

Nothing.

Returning so late from her training has slowly become a routine in the current tumultuous times. Granted, normally the silence didn’t feel so creepy, but the empty hallways of Brauheim today are putting her mane on edge.

Is Eight putting on another surprise visit?

“Queen, Eight?” she raises her voice.

Nothing.

And then she spots it.

A barrel by the window of a store she’s just passed has a tiny brown bulge on it- no, behind it.

Without waiting, she jumps towards it, and the brown bulge raises two tiny twigs up.

“Eleven?” she pokes the brown ball which proves to be uncharacteristically soft, and two blue eyes as well as a mouth filled with sharp teeth opens.

Looking around due to sudden shifting noises, she can see a flower pot smiling at her, some grey extension to an anvil growing a head and two excited forelegs, and suddenly there are eleven tiny changelings slowly turning from chameleoning surrounding scenery into their black and teal bodies.

“Boss-”

“-said-”

“-mom-”

“-give-”

“-love.”

The weird speech from all angles make shiver run down Battlecry’s spine, which is immediately replaced by pride welling inside her at her little lings talking.

“You little weirdos,” she shakes her head, “Let’s go. Cooking for one was getting stale anyway.”

With one Eleven on her back and others mobbing behind her, she heads home with a smile.

36: Together, facing perfection itself.

View Online

”Dearly beloved, we have gathered here to witness the union of-”

”Shut it, One!” I roll my eyes as Gem and Two snicker.

So, as One so uselessly stated, we have all gathered in the council room, although for a completely different reason. Granite is about to fill in the final details of our mission before we head off to the depths to clear out the Twisted for good.

“Good morning, everypony,” says the loremaster. Only he and Hard Reset are present for this, because everything said here is ‘classified’. I’m not sure about classified as what, but it sounds secret or something, “I’m told that Hard reset informed you about the most of the important stuff yesterday, and unfortunately we haven’t been able to figure out something miraculously helpful overnight, so this will be short. As you know, Twisted activities are threatening our mining, and it’s only a matter of time before they creep up either to us or the surface. We can’t allow that, and since you are supposedly immune to the infection now then you’re our only hope. We will provide you with everything you want.”

“Two mares shaking their booties at us for moral support!” Ten shoots out.

“Done!” answers Granite without a fraction of a second to think.

“Fiiiine,” grumbles Ten, “No fun allowed...”

“Look, this is about raw survival. I’m willing to part with anything,” Granite gives Ten an exhausted look, "I'm already having trouble explaining the sightings from our border guards, and keeping panic from spreading."

“Alright, what do we need aside from the scanning equipment?” I return the conversation back on track, “Now that we’re ready for direct contact, I’m alright with using just my love blades. No offense to your technology, but those things are effective, and they don’t even drain so much love anymore.”

“I advise against that, boss,” Five clears her throat, “In case the purge takes too long or we lose way too much energy for any other reason, you should pick a flamethrower like last time. The area of effect demolition, especially in enclosed spaces which might be filled with Twisted, could be invaluable.”

Huh…

“Well, I’m not going to argue with the changeling literally made for battle who also likes advanced weaponry.”

“Nothing for me, thanks,” One sets her hoof on fire and douses it a moment later, “And you don’t want anything precision-based. That’s mostly just an inconvenience to those damn things. Grab explosives, fire, or acid, though we can make the latter ourselves.”

“Liquor,” says Two, “Whatever your strongest liquor is. I’m not about to start learning to use military hardware in the hour or so we want to spend by equipping ourselves, but if you give me something that melts livers, I’ll make something that melts bedrock out of it.”

Huuuuh… I completely forgot about that.

“Can we take Stompy?” asks Three, “I talked to him yesterday and he wants to go out for a walk.”

“Stompy is fully assembled and ready for action,” Hard Reset nods, “He’ll join us after the briefing. He said the electromagnetic field from the laboratory devices helps him recharge faster than rest. Besides, his Twisted locator is better than anything we’ve managed to copy, so he has to go in case our devices stop working or run out of power. We did what we could in such short time, but it’s untested.”

“I’m taking the griffon sword,” Eight pats the Blade of the First Holy Whatever sheathed on her barrel, “Guns are nice… but it’s not my thing. Heh, even the sword is pushing it.”

“Laser gatling, and a grenade launcher,” Five grins, “And pack some napalm charges this time. Explosions are great, but fire is the best way to deal with the remains of Twisted. We’ll need someone to carry spare ammo, though. Canisters for the boss, and fireworks for me.”

“Can I get the foam thingy again?” Three looks hopeful, “It helped a lot.”

“Nope,” I shake my head. Three gives me ‘the wibble’, but it doesn’t work this time because I’ve got something better, “You’re getting the BFG. You heard Hard Reset yesterday. They managed to make one shot for it, and you’re the only one who can use it.”

“Stompy called you the ‘registered user’, whatever that means,” Hard Reset shrugs.

“Yay!” Three claps his hooves.

“But no firing it until I say so!” I give him a stern look.

“Sure thing, boss!” he beams back at me, not bothered at all.

“Anyone else?” I look around, and I’m greeted with general shaking of heads, “Seven?”

“Spells, boss,” he shrugs, then thinks for a second, “You know what? I can carry few grenades for Five, why not? Worst case scenario, I throw those.”

“Eleven?” I ask, and the tiny heads look up at me, “I’m not sure what you could carry, but… maybe you know something?”

Eleven bares his hundreds of sharp teeth. Geez, it’s almost as bad as watching One smile.

“Chomp. Chomp,” he says. He’s getting better at synchronizing the words, but it’s still unsettling.

“I guess you’re right,” when no one else says anything, I continue, “Then all we need to sort out is who’s coming.”

I get the ‘Really?’ stare from everyone.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. We’re going to need someone to communicate with dwarves and possibly the minotaurs,” I cross my forelegs on my chest.

Six raises his hoof.

“Look, I know I’m not useful in a fight, and I don’t know enough to fix any jammed or broken weapons on the fly, so I’ll stay. If anything goes… wrong, then everyone will need to know. Though I could carry Five’s spare ammo.”

“Communication it is,” I decide. Six is right. If things go wrong, we might need help, or he could be the only one able to accurately describe what happened, “In case we fail, you’ll tell Granite, and then you’ll go to the surface, warn Steelback and ask him to secure you a route to Canterlot. Rulers of Equestria are there, and they will need to know.”

“Yes, boss!” Six salutes.

“I’m coming, obviously, and so is Eight,” One states simply, and Eight nods.

“Someone has to point dummy here in the right direction,” Two pats uncharacteristically silent Cryo’s lower back, which is the only place she can reach. “Isn’t that right?”

“I LIKE CAMPING!”

“See? She wants to go too,” Two shrugs, “And since I’m quite the combo of infiltrator and a warrior, I think I should stretch both my mental and physical muscles.”

“Are you okay, Two?” I lean down to her, running my hoof down her still scarred and dented chitin.

“Oh, that? I’m keeping those marks as trophies, dad. In case I doubt myself again, I can always just look down and remember what I survived. And you know what? I’m keeping the name Living Armor at least around the dwarves… if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t… Living Armor. Eh, too long. How does Liv sound?” I smirk, “Can you ‘liv’ with that?”

“Can you live with yourself after saying that?” Two- Living Armor rolls her eyes.

“Dad jokes...” One shakes her head, “I’m afraid we might have to put the boss down soon. His mind is going.”

I chuckle.

“You know what, it will be easier if I just ask - is there anyone who has a reason not to go? Ten, Eleven?”

“Me. Chomp. Spindlies,” Eleven shakes his heads.

You. Spend. Too. Much. Time. With. Three. More. Like.

Ten sighs.

“No offense to Eight, boss, but right now I’m the one changeling with the most varied combat experience. Swords, spears, axes, magic, combat telekinesis, changeling transformations, you name it. I might not be able to mimic Eight’s physical attributes, but I went through paladin training. I know more standard spells than Seven, and I’ve fought enemies armed with things Eight can’t even imagine. I will, of course, obey your orders if you send me upstairs again, but it would be downright stupid to leave me out of this, and a waste of my hivemind knowledge.”

I didn’t think about it like this, but he’s right. How is Eight taking the idea?

She’s observing Ten with brows furrowed, but isn’t complaining or anything. I’m going to assume she doesn’t have any objections then.

“That’s settled then,” I nod, “Everyone but Six is coming.”

“That’s good,” Granite breathes out, “Because this is going to make the plan a little easier. I talked about it with Stompy a little last night, and he came up with a better plan based on his experience with Twisted. They supposedly usually group up and don’t move much, while small groups or individuals slowly drift away. It would be better to split up, find and take out the smaller groups around the main mass, and finally group up for the big battle. That way we can use the scanners we replicated effectively and not run around for days, possibly chasing stragglers away into more biomass to convert, which was the risk of our original round trip plan.”

“I’m not too keen on splitting up, honestly,” I object, “That never works well.”

“Not necessarily,” says Ten, “Even if we split up, I believe that won’t be an issue. I’ve gone through everyone’s memories about the big battle last time. Before the infection hit, you were doing fairly fine even against the main mass of enemies. Granted, the trick with the cliff helped tons, no pun intended, but as long as we put a melee fighter into each group, we should be able to deal with anything that’s not the Vigil or the brunt of the surviving Twisted. In fact, the only weapons we really need are for complete destruction of their biomass rather than a way to kill them.”

“I agree with Ten,” Eight says, “Let’s kick some tentacled asses.”

“If you think so, then the only question remaining is - who goes with whom?”

“I’m going with Cryo,” says Two, “Otherwise she’ll wander off and get lost.”

“CONNECTION TO THE SERVER RESET!” the old queen, I assume, agrees. Well, I hope more than assume, but Two doesn’t seem worried.

“Ten, you go with them,” I nod to the paladin on probation.

“Sure, but wouldn’t I be more useful with someone else? They already have enough raw power,” Ten tilts his head.

“Yes, but I’m not sure about Cryo’s stability. I believe her intentions, though.”

“WISHING WELL WILL NOT FAIL TINY RED BLOT!” Cryo pats Two’s head which leaves the infiltrator a little dazed. Damn, Living Armor’s head. I should get used to saying that. Oh screw it, she’s my Two. To the dwarves she can be whoever she wants.

“Seven, Eleven, you’re coming with me,” I order.

“Target practice, I like that,” Seven summons a green, burning skull which circles around him and disappears.

“Walmart!” Eleven agrees apparently. Now I’m sure he’s spending too much time with Three.

“I’ll have Stompy,” speaking of Three, the drone speaks up, “He knows how to deal with spindlies.”

“Five, you’re going with them,” I order, “Considering Stompy’s not exactly sneaky approach, there’s a high chance that you’ll draw a lot of attention, possibly even the main horde. Your firepower will be useful.”

“I’m taking Gem,” says Eight, “and I suggest One goes alone. I’ll need someone to destroy the biomass while I cleave through the bastards. One doesn’t have such problem, and making a group of all three of us is crazy overkill.”

“I’d be flattered if I didn’t know you want to see me get eaten,” One boops the warrior.

“Come now, I certainly don’t want that,” Eight playfully snaps her jaws at One’s hoof, “I would miss our banter way too much for that. Besides, that’s my job.”

Loud thudding from outside announces Stompy’s arrival.

“Anything else?” I raise an eyebrow, looking around, “Nothing? Then let’s go suit up. Bugs and bots, roll out!”

***

With the flamethrower firmly affixed to my hoof, I let it flame at the corpse on the floor until it’s ash. Next to me, Seven is doing the same to a Twisted who suffered much worse fate than the clean cuts from my love blades, namely being ripped to shreds by Eleven.

Our first encounter ended quickly, and while I was afraid I’d screw up like last time, it was completely different, and I think I know why. This time, the specter of death at single touch isn’t hovering above us, and as far as normal fighting goes, we’re all rather experienced at this point, even Eleven who had his fair share of combat only few hours after birth.

Anyway, we’re done here, and there’s no reason to dawdle. As far as I know, we were the last one to find Twisted. The dwarven scanner is showing a single Twisted along our path, so we head off that way.

”We’ve got our first two. How are things on everyone’s end?”

”Seventeen!” reports One as she blasts a Twisted with her divine fire, evaporating half of its body in an instant, ”I mean eighteen. No sign of the Vigil.”

”Damn, how did you get so many of them this soon?”

”I said to myself - screw stealth. Why should I have to be the one running around and wasting energy? So I made some noise and they came for me. Anyway, two more are coming, and I haven’t run out of pew pews yet. Ta taaa!”

Yeah, she’ll be fine.

”Eight?” I check the second group as I rush ahead to the source of signal the scanner is picking up.

Oh great, she’s beating a screeching Twisted with another one while four more are impaled on the griffon greatsword stuck in the floor, alive and squirming. Behind her, rather bored and invisible Gem is downing a bottle of moonshine in order to make some internal acid.

”Busy! More are coming. How many did One get yet?”

”Why do you think she’s counting?”

”She’s ONE!”

”Fine, she said she got seventeen a moment ago...” I admit defeat. Will those two ever stop competing?

”BITCH!” she stops messing around, and crushes the skulls of both Twisted in her hooves while Gem rushes in to melt them, ”We have fifteen with these,” she breathes in, and bellows, “HEY, YOU GOOEY FUCKS, GET OVER HERE SO I DON’T HAVE TO CHASE YOU AROUND!”

Several distant screeches answer her call, and Gem checks the scanner.

”Three more incoming,” she reports.

”Ugh, not enough!” Eight grabs her sword covered with remains of melted Twisted, ”Let’s move!”

I leave the two alone. They seem alright.

Oh great, three Twisted coming our way this time. Seven’s horn glows as I rush in to slice the nearest one. Eleven jumps under legs and tentacles to swarm the Twisted in the back, tiny mouths tearing flesh and crunching bones.

Seven finishes his spell, which results in something green and horrible burying itself into the remaining Twisted’s chest, first sets it on fire, and then explodes.

“Spiked burning cubes which explode,” Seven laughs to himself, “Top that, any wizard anywhere! Pfff, fire balls.”

The fight is over quickly, but this time the result is not as good.

I rush over to a wall against which one Eleven got smashed, the tiny smooshed body lying on the floor. I’m not about to ponder what happens if one Eleven gets badly hurt or dies, so I simply pour love into the changeling while the other ten gather around.

Nothing.

Alright. Time to visit Eleven’s mind.

AAAAAAAAAAAH! HOW DO I PICK THE RIGHT BODY?!

Oh… ohhhhhh...

This feels weird.

The correct Eleven twitches as I take over, and make the body heal itself. Two healthy Elevens hug me, and the recovering one joins in soon.

“Happy.” he says.

“You know, boss. Eleven still freaks me out, but I admit he is kinda adorable.”

“Hive bonding later,” I pat the nearest head, “How’s the scanner?”

Seven checks the screen.

“Six coming our way,” he takes a deep breath, “Looks like they’re catching onto what’s going on.”

I nod. That’s good in a way, like One said.

”Two, Ten? How are things?”

The two are casually following Cryo through an empty tunnel.

”Hmm?” Two’s ear twitches, ”Nothing big. We killed some twenty or thirty who ambushed us in a cavern few minutes ago. They aren’t much of a threat to us. The scanner shows them running away, but it’s in the direction where Three reported the main mass, so I think they’re trying to regroup.”

Nothing problematic on their side then.

”Three, Five?”

”Hi, boss!”
”Yes, boss?”

They answer both at once.

”Any problems on your end?”

”Stompy dealt with few spindlies already. No problems at all. He’s awesome!” Three reports cheerfully.

Five takes over.

”We’re about halfway through our route, and according to Stompy’s readings, the Twisted are trying to rejoin the main mass. For some reason, they are regrouping in the central park of the dark priest enclave. Stompy’s wide-range area scanner is losing signatures fast, so I think our groups are dealing with Twisted effectively. However, we have a problem the other groups likely didn’t pick up yet.”

”You always know how to cheer me up. What is it?”

”Stompy says that his scanner can’t see into a certain area of the mines. The scary part is that it’s the section where Twisted were sealed off in the first place, and...”

”Where you last saw the Vigil. Yeah, I get it,” I sigh.

I don’t have time to ponder the grim prospect, because Twisted reach us, this time twice as many as before.

***

”The noose tightens,” One greets me when we group up at the entrance of the dark priest enclave. Almost everyone is already there, and I can hear Stompy’s, well, stomping from a tunnel behind us.

As far as we know, we’re about to finish off a species. A horrifying thought, even though they’re technically evil.

”Woooo, let’s go finish off a species!” cheers One ”You don’t get a chance like that every day.”

Nevermind.

”Do I get to use my best friends gun?” asks Three as Stompy takes his place in front of everyone.

”No,” I shake my head, ”Considering how well we’ve done until now, I think it might be a waste of ammo.”

And if we meet the Vigil, I want something big in case everything else fails.

”Okay, deep breaths everyone. Let’s go!”

Stompy moves ahead with us in tow, and I get a clear view of the central park. Twisted are everywhere - the ground, the walls, the high ceiling, all simply staring at us, fangs bared and tentacles swinging. As I quickly compare the horrifying view of the almost uninterrupted black mass with what my changelings saw when they went down here to get the poison, I realize with some satisfaction that we really did make a dent into their numbers during our thankfully-not-so-last stand. Hey, I can even see concrete through them... occasionally. However, it’s clear that there still were enough ‘unused’ dwarf corpses in the enclave to make use of and replenish their numbers.

Stompy unloads a barrage of lasers without waiting, making Twisted drop from the ceiling like a black, burning rain.

“Hey, what are you doing, Stompy?!” Three hisses, “They were just looking.”

“Preemptive friendship strike,” drones the robot.

“You’re making fun of me!”

“Look, they are falling head over hooves for you already.”

And that’s the last thing I hear before all hole breaks loose. Well, and hissing… a lot of hissing.

One immediately takes off, shooting those Twisted trying to surprise us by jumping down from the wall directly above the entrance. All we can do is connect to her mind and avoid the charred remains falling on us without even looking.

For once, I let Eight’s and my mind meld into one just like in the old days, sharing combat skills and instructions. Back to back, griffon sword, chitinous spikes, and love blades, we let the enemies make the mistake of swarming around us.

To my surprise, Seven joins One in the air, his wings buzzing as he hurls explosive dodecahedrons and even worse geometric shapes of variable destructive properties according to One’s instructions.

“Get that one! And that one! That one’s trying to sneak up on the boss!” Three, on Stompy’s back and covered with an energy shield, keeps pointing out targets. I don’t have the heart to tell him that him just looking around from a high viewpoint is more helpful than anything, because we’re all using information from his eyes to make our own idea about how the battle is going.

“CRYO SMAAAAAASH!” the ancient queen charges through the swarm, the impact of the huge changeling scattering Twisted away along the path. A smaller, red-headed dot of Two behind her is jumping around and punching away with not even a hundredth of Cryo’s or our destructive effect, but I can both hear her mad laughter and feel the pure joy of movement from her link. Just like her mother covering my own back, “FOR THE REBELS! FOR THE RESISTANCE! SCREW YOU, SHADOWSTEP! SCREW YOU, CHRYSALIS! HEY, THAT GUY EXPLODED!”

My surprise mirrors Cryo’s, because what she’s talking about is Ten, slowly walking around the battlefield, incinerating enemies with blasts of magic while his sword flies around him at lightning speed, deflecting blows and parrying tentacles. Occasionally, he dodges out of the way or kicks a close target, but in contrast to everyone else, his style of combat is almost... peaceful.

”Boss, I fought in two army battles. This is nothing new to me, and this time I’ve got the information coming from other changelings, so I don’t have to watch my own back. I told you, while I might not be as powerful as many of you, I’ve got experience, ” Ten catches my surprise, and answers as if he was on a beach, relaxing and sipping a drink.

Few Twisted slip into the entrance tunnel where Gem is hiding, and immediately get chomped by Eleven guarding her. The two, well, the twelve aren’t joining the fight directly, but Gem is busy spitting at Twisted bodies which don’t look completely dead, melting or burning the biomass.

I don’t know how long it’s been, but eventually the tide of enemies thins down to a trickle, and then…

...nothing but stench of burning and melting flesh.

”Huh, whuh?” I blink when I finally realize there’s nothing to slash at anymore.

Is it really? I punch the air few times before Eight stops me.

”We’re done,” I feel her voice in my head as well as her hoof running through my mane. Judging from the hive links, I’m not the only frazzled one.

”D- Done?” I blink.

”Yeah. One and Seven are hunting down the few who fled. We’re done. That’s all she wrote.”

Connecting to One reveals her just being teleported by Seven into a corridor behind a fleeing Twisted who gets blasted instantly. Four more transportations later, even she reports:

”Maid One’s done with the cleaning. Damn, I’m a succubus now, I could use a name. Ehhh… maybe later.”

”We’re not done yet,” I say, feeling surprise from everyone but Five and Three who know what the problem is, ”There’s one place which Stompy can’t scan. The place where Twisted were originally sealed off.”

***

We creep through the dark tunnels of the istrium mine, but so far we haven’t encountered any resistance.

“What makes this place so special that you can’t scan it?” I whisper to Stompy.

The robot, to my surprise, answers in a very quiet voice.

“Istrium is a very strange substance,” explains Stompy, “We have no idea how it forms, nor has it any set surrounding geological features to help find it. What I know is that it causes uneasiness and sometimes downright fear in biological beings, so we used automated harvesters. The working theory regarding the quantum state of the crystals is that it is formed from remains of a dimensional overlap. Which remains from which dimension is unknown to me. It possesses very minor ability to disperse magic, and can be processed into extremely durable metal which absorbs and holds energy better than any other known mineral. My scanners work by transmitting certain signals through the area, and those get absorbed by leftover dust from previous mining of the crystals.”

Quantum… dim-what?

“Is it possible that the Vigil could be interested in this mineral?” I ask instead.

“According to my information, this mining site has been depleted a long time ago. My best guess is that whoever this Vigil you’re talking about is was only interested in releasing the sealed Twisted,” replies Stompy who would obviously shrug if he could.

Thankfully, while Stompy can’t scan anything from the rough mine shaft, we have good eyes and ears, and according to the area plans he’s transmitting into the air like a glowing blue window, this place is fairly small.

Come to think of it, either Twisted multiplied immensely immediately after being released, or they’re rather easy to store in limited space. Heh, pocket Twisted.

Several more minutes of increasingly casual walking later, we enter what has to be the central hub of the mine, at least according to the map Stompy is projecting ahead, which is the first time we finally hear something other than our own muffled hoofsteps or the heavy echoes of Stompy’s walking.

Stompy’s headlights reveal a solitary figure sitting on the ground, watching us. As I expected, it’s the Vigil cultist. I immediately check everyone’s love levels on reflex, and let out a sigh of relief that despite the big battle we’re is a decent shape. Just in case, though, I transfer some more to Eight and Cryo, who looks around, slightly confused.

“So you’re the ones who have been cleaning the place out,” he says calmly, taking the hood of his dirty, grey robe off, and standing up. He’s not as tall as Eight or Cryo, but his mere presence makes me take a step back.

Come to think about it, I haven’t had a chance to take a good look at him yet. Eight got smashed so fast she barely realized it, and Three’s as well as Six’s memories are blurry and frazzled due to sheer panic. So, here goes - he’s big, he has short, mossy green mane fading to grey, and a very similar scheme for his coat, at least for the part of the neck I can see under the robe. Simply put, he’s kinda dim.

“W-Why did you release the Twisted?” I take a short step forward, and fail my willpower check for not stuttering, “Why did you nearly kill Eight?” I hesitate, “And… don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but why didn’t you do the same to Six and Three?”

To my surprise, the Vigil just tilts his head, mild amusement on his lips.

“Does it matter? I mean, really matter?” he says in a slow, tired voice, “You are all irrelevant. I am irrelevant in the long run. Whatever happens here is irrelevant, truth be told. The Eternal Watcher will enter this world, sooner or later. The creatures you call Twisted were his previous experiment at reaching his goal, which unfortunately failed.”

“And what does this watcher want?” I ask. This makes no sense.

“Perfection. Unity. No more pain. No more suffering. Ascension for all of us. No wars, no violence, no struggle, only peace.”

I find that hard to believe.

“I don’t believe you. Not after what you did, and the pain you caused,” no, seriously, what am I supposed to say? Let’s do this and ascend or whatever? ”Hole, the creatures you released massacred several hundred dwarves.”

He shrugs.

“The Watcher’s victory is inevitable, and will happen far from here. Resist if you want. You will only cause pain for yourself. I’m more than fine waiting here until our time comes.”

“Fuck. That.”

Fire runs through Eight’s chitin, reinforcing her armor to its maximum.

The sight which by all means should strike fear to any living creature leaves the Vigil obviously unimpressed.

“Alright,” he shrugs again, as if he wasn’t facing a usually horrifying force of changelings which wiped an army of Twisted not too long ago, but was picking between two mediocre kinds of salad, “I suppose I can kill time somehow.”

Eight is on him instantly, slashing with the griffon sword which is harmlessly blocked by the Vigil’s foreleg, the impact sending sparks everywhere.

”Cryo, break a leg,” says Two, ”But be carefu-”

“BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGHHHH!” the screaming queen charges at the Vigil, punting him like a hoof ball. The small comet hits the ceiling, then the far wall, and then lands on all fours, apparently unharmed.

”Good to know that power isn’t the same as mass,” I comment, ”Now we need to figure out how to actually hurt him.”

One flies up, her horn glowing. In the next instant, she shoots a blast of energy which impacts the Vigil, momentarily turning the area around him into a ball of fire. One and Cryo back off a little to avoid getting burned as well. However, when the glow clears, what remains is a smoldering Vigil, his seared off flesh quickly regenerating in front of our eyes.

Two doesn’t wait, though, and spits out the horrible mixture of dwarven liquor and changeling goo with deadly accuracy. The Vigil is silent, his neck melting and rib cage revealed.

Ten jumps in to take the chance to lop the Vigil’s head off…

...but his flying sword is grabbed in the air by the Vigil’s growing tail whip, and without any wind-up, he punches Ten in the chestplate. The paladin flies past, his impact against the wall on the other side scattering rocks around.

”Ten?!”

”Ughhh… did anyone… get the number… of that cart…?” he tries to get up, but starts throwing up blood.

”Gem, help him!” I order, summon the fire of love, ugh, around my forelegs, and enter the fray around the Vigil.

A barrage of explosions caused by Seven’s spells hits the Vigil who doesn’t even flinch when he sends the giant that is Cryo flying few pony lengths away with a slap of the back of his hoof.

”Fiiine, shielding it is AGAIN...” curses annoyed Seven, his horn flashing as he summons a shimmering, green barrier tightly surrounding Eight who barely dodges the Vigil’s punch. It nicks her, however, which makes her spiral in the air.

The Vigil cocks his hoof back to punch technically incapacitated Eight, I’m there, and with my love and fear for Eight’s life burning equally in the form of a thin edge coming from my hoof, I cut his foreleg off.

I don’t get even a second to back off, though, as the Vigil immediately rears on his hind legs, and uppercuts me with his remaining foreleg. The world blurs, and I can barely even register the agony of my chest caving in before I an impact shakes my whole body from the back. Did I just bounce off from the ceiling? An attempt to cushion my fall by using wings makes things only worse.

Before I hit the ground again, I’m swept by a changeling-sized blob and gently lowered down. When my vision stops swimming, I notice it’s One.

”...thanks...”

”Yeeeeeah you’d better start thinking about a plan B, because this isn’t working,” she just says, shooting more energy from her horn.

As my regeneration kicks in, quickly burning through my love, I get back up only to see the Vigil punch Cryo so hard that even her thick chitin shatters, the shrapnels burying themselves into the ground.

”Me time?” asks Three.

”Eh, brute force doesn’t seem to be working. I knew this would be useful,” Five has finally managed to set up her gatling, and the red lines of lasers blast the Vigil, immediately searing off his flesh.

”No, Stompy time,” I say.

“Stompy, let’s show this guy the power of friendship!” orders Three, and Eight quickly jumps aside when the mech’s dual flamethrowers start toasting and roasting.

That lasts for some five seconds before Five’s lasers suddenly end up hitting the walls. Not the back wall, such as in case of finally drilling through the obstacle they were aimed at, but at side walls, as if-

The Vigil walks out of the fire, unharmed.

-as if they were being deflected by the Vigil’s now slightly shinier coat.

“Weapon systems ineffective,” reports Stompy.

“Now can you see?” he asks, “This is what my master brings - perfection, adaptation, eternity. I wanted to show you because, as I said, this is just a way to pass time for me-” his monologue is interrupted by Eight’s blindingly fast lunge which the Vigil avoids even faster, before her punch impacts, she’s next to her, his hoof transforming into a set of claws, and with a single punch he rams it through Eight. Then, with a flick of said foreleg, he casually tosses impaled Eight to us, “It’s not as if you could hit me if I wanted-”

A continuous beam of divine fire impacts the Vigil’s raised foreleg.

“Oh dear,” he continues, “Mundane weapons, magic, and even minor divinity?” laughing, he lowers his foreleg and lets One’s attack which is charring the ground around the Vigil simply hit him without any effect, “The Watcher is divinity itself, changelings. We are unstoppable.”

One lands next to me, gasping for breath.

”I guess… I guess it’s time… for Three’s... big show... and then we… get the hole out… if it doesn’t work?” she asks, swaying unsteadily.

”Not yet,” I frown, ”And even if we run, he’s shown to be faster. Someone would have to stay here to slow him down, and after the show with Eight, it would be only few seconds.”

”I volunteer!” says Five immediately.

”Oh shut up, I’m fine...” Eight, having regenerated a hole in her body, is getting back on all fours already, ”But that fucker is far stronger and faster than he was last time. If you’ve got a plan B, throw it out and go straight to plan Z. We might not get another chance, depending on when he gets bored of toying with us.”

”Scream once mentioned that whatever makes these guys so strong doesn’t make them the smartest, and we’re changelings. Our strength isn’t, well, strength, Our coordination is, and our-”

”We get it, so stop having a big final monologue moment, and let’s mind blast the bastard!” One grins, ”Whoever kills him inside his head first gets Three transformed into a puppy!”

”What’s a pupp-” Five opens her mouth.

”A baby fire spider!” One realizes instantly that Five’s never left the underground.

Our minds connect, and I lead them into a small hole I can feel in the Vigil. One might have thought about some sort of hypnosis or control, but inside his mind, there’s a slot for something similar to a hive link the Vigil clearly cannot consciously control.

However, as the world goes black, I hear:

”YOU HAVE NO UNDERSTANDING WHAT YOU ARE DEALING WITH, BUGS!”

***

Dusty Satchel, a grey earthpony stallion with a green mane and a rather common cutie mark of a tied cloth bag, closes the door of his apartment. It’s one of the cheapest variety in Manehattan - a simple room with one door leading to the bathroom, one to a small closet, and one leading outside where he is now. With a tired sigh, he starts heading down through the apartment building.

Another morning, time to go to work, a routine he’s grown used to over the years. Unfortunately, with the recent influx of griffons and zebras, unskilled labor has been a rather unsteady position, especially for someone in their fifties like him. Of course, said influx of creatures trying to live in the city brought an increase of rent all over the place, but especially in the previously cheap locations.

“Hey, rent’s due today!” yells the landlord, a fat unicorn living on the bottom floor and apparently spending most of his time in a booth by the entrance.

“Yeah yeah,” grumbles Dusty.

“I’m serious, you’ve been late every month for the past year, and-”

“I said I’d pay it, you fatass!” Dusty can’t hold back. This lazy swine who hasn’t worked a day in his life is lecturing him about something.

The landlord narrows his eyes.

“By six o’clock,” he growls.

“But I’m working double shift today to pay for the dumb rent increase you announced late!” Dusty slams his hooves against the reinforced glass of the booth.

“Well then maybe you should have thought about that before running your mouth,” the unicorn smirks, making Dusty grit his teeth, “...mudpony.”

“You-”

“Ahem!” a calm, female voice interrupts Dusty before he digs himself deeper by doing something to the landlord. There’s a tall, pink, pegasus mare with short, blond mane wearing white yoga pants coming down the stairs, “Mind if I butt in for a second?”

Dusty stays silent, having never seen this mare in the building before. Granted, she looks a little above thirty, and is absolutely gorgeous, so he might have just missed her on the grounds of being out of his league completely.

The landlord straightens up in his chair and smoothens his mane.

“Uhh, well, umm, miss Comfort, was it?” he practically drools over her, much to Dusty’s disgust at the old pervert.

“Mind if I ask where the Solar Fitness Studio is?” Comfort asks, “I’m starting to work there as a personal trainer today, and I thought I’d have time to walk through this part of the city yesterday, but things didn’t go as planned, so I’m… kinda lost,” she scratches her head.

“Well, I’m not sure… but I can show you around and I know where we could ask-” the unicorn who clearly hasn’t seen fitness anything even in a documentary gets interrupted by Dusty who can’t resist one-upping the annoying asshole.

“It’s on my way to work,” he says, “I can show you.”

“I wouldn’t trust this hobo, miss. Do you know he barely pays rent?” the landlord give it one final shot which fails completely.

“That would be lovely,” says Comfort, “I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Just be careful not to go with him into a blind alley. You know what they say about mudpon-”

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN STARING AT HER ASS SINCE SHE ARRIVED!” Dusty kicks the booth.

“Well, ehm,” Comfort doesn’t seem turned off, much more amused, actually, “I believe I can defend myself from anything but being late for my first day at work. Shall we?” she tilts her head while giving Dusty a curious look.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Dust leads the way, walking a little faster than he would otherwise.

“Bad morning?” asks Comfort, following without any trouble.

Dusty sighs.

“Bad everything recently. I don’t want to bother you with my problems.”

“Could help us pass time,” Comfort shrugs.

“There really isn’t much to say,” says Dusty. It’s easier to talk about things when they won’t matter tomorrow… hopefully. If that weird ‘secret society’ is to be trusted, that is. However, the demonstration they showed… earthponies using magic, a pegasus stronger than any earthpony. And supposedly the higher ranked members don’t need to eat or be afraid of cold. Now THAT would help his rent situation. And if they just try to lure money out of him in the end, although the guy who invited him said they wouldn’t, he wouldn’t have any anyway, “I’m old, so I can’t really ask for a raise in this economy, and it’s getting harder to pay rent even in this place. My filly had her thirteenth birthday this month, and she got her cutie mark. It’s a chemistry thing, so I bought her a basic chemistry set… which put me in the red and… well, you heard the landlord.”

“Does your filly live with you?” Comfort raises an eyebrow, “If your apartment is similar to mine, there’s like no place there.”

“No no no,” Dusty waves his foreleg, “I’m divorced. She lives with her mother and the new assh- stallion she’s found. Court decided that I’m not able to take care of my girl, but I’m still good enough to pay alimony. Not that I mind that part, if it helps my girl.”

“Awww...” Comfort looked at the sidewalk.

“Ah. don’t worry about it. That’s my life, and you have yours. Besides, this is where we split,” he stops and points left across the street, “I work in a warehouse, and I’ve got to get a proper breakfast. Nothing for a slender pony like you. But the fitness studio you were looking for is one block that way. You can’t miss it, there’s a big sun with a mare bent backwards over it above the door.”

“Thanks!” Comfort smiles at Dusty, “And if you need some help cooking or a quick massage, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Heh heh, sure,” Dusty only partially fakes a smile, and leaves. It has been a while since he’s met someone genuinely polite in this city, especially a mare.

One street away, Comfort clutches her head, previously blocked memories pouring into her.

“Wait, I was supposed to kill him!” she curses, turns around, and bolts back, but reality starts breaking around her, leaving only blackness surrounding her.

”YOU FAILED, CHANGELING!!”

Not too far ‘away’, Dusty has entered his usual morning haunt - a shabby ‘Lord of the Donuts’ diner. A shop offering that sort of cheap, simple, yet filling meal for those ponies who don’t have the luxury of cooking at home or can’t afford anything else. Granted, most of the time, Dusty could afford to have a more complex breakfast elsewhere, but as stated previously, this month has been tight.

“Hey, Dusty! The usual?” the old pegasus behind the counter greets his daily customer of many years, and when Dusty nods, he yells the order into the kitchen door behind himself, “How’s it going?”

“Lousy,” he admits, “A bit late with rent and everything, and my landlord is an ass.”

“That bad, eh? By the way, ten bits.”

Dusty rummages through his saddlebag, and freezes.

“Damn it!” he looks nervously up at the diner owner, “Can I switch my order to something a bit cheaper? I’ve got only five.”

“No can do, bud. Sunny’s already making it, but you know you can always work it off.”

Asshole. A pony would think that friends… well, long-time acquaintances could do something for each other in a pinch. Ungrateful bastard. It’s not as if Dusty didn’t help him clean the tables after late dinner more than once.

“I can’t!” Dusty pleads, “Not today. I need to get to the warehouse early, I’m working double shift to pay rent. Come on, can you open me a tab until tomorrow?”

“Look, Dusty. If you give me two hours of your time, Sunny can go home two hours earlier, and we’re all good. If you can’t, then it’s no breakfast AND you’ll still owe me for the-”

A smaller hoof slams a small amount of coins on the counter.

“Can we move this along, I’m fucking starving here! If it makes you move your ass faster, I’m paying for this dude too. A stack of flapjacks, syrup and custard. Get MOVING!”

Dusty wants to object, and the owner opens his mouth too, immediately closing it when faced with obviously livid earthpony mare in her teens sporting a shiny black mane cut into… what do foals these days call it, emo cut or something? The heavy, black eyeliner isn’t helping, and neither is her black jacket, black, heavy boots, and black, blacker blackness. And piercings, a lot of piercings.

Black ones.

“Listen, young lady-” the pegasus gives resistance one more shot under the mare’s unwavering glare.

“Get money, give food. Open mouth again, no money from two customers, capiche?” she raises an eyebrow.

The pegasus rushes off into the kitchen, and returns quickly with a stack of pancakes as well as Dusty’s eggs, bread, and heavy dose of salad. Still pouting, he gives the food to the cheeky mare first, then to rather confused Dusty who takes his plate.

“I can pay you back tomorrow, miss-”

“Sit. Eat,” she nods to the closest table, and still stunned Dusty follows her. As they get seated, she digs into her breakfast, setting a rather record pace, “Now you can yap all you want,” she says in between bites, “And I don’t really care about your money, I’ve got places to be, and I can’t afford this sh- this delay.”

“Thank you anyway,” Dusty chomps a leaf of lettuce, “I doubt there are more than a single-digit amount of ponies in this city who would do that for a pony they don’t know.”

“Screw them,” says the mare without any apparent rancor other than her now normal level of venom in her voice, “It’s a dog eat dog world, but packs hunt better. Anyway,” she looks at her pancake, “this tastes like shit.”

Dusty shrugs, growing to like the foul-mouthed young mare, and can’t help cracking a smile.

“Sunny and Windstorm do what they can with what they can afford. This place IS the cheapest around. It’s for dock workers, warehouse staff like me, or anyone else who works too hard for too little money. A lot of strong, rough ponies around most of the time. Aren’t you scared here, a little girl-”

The stare she gives him could melt through any steel vault door and the whole security team guarding it.

“-young miss,” Dusty corrects himself.

She looks around.

“Mostly stallions all around, and there are Royal Guards on the corner,” she points out of the diner window, “If I as much as raise my voice and tear my clothes, you’re all going to the slammer for attempted rape. Plus, I can still kick anyone in the balls and shut them off like a lamp.”

Dusty chuckles.

“I’m starting to like you.”

She measures him silently for few seconds.

“The earthpony part is neat, but too old for my liking,” she shakes her head, “I want someone with proper stamina. You like fillies, perv?”

“No- I- I- I didn’t mean-” Dusty blushes.

“Obviously,” she rolls her eyes, “Otherwise I’d be calling for the guards already,” with her breakfast already done, she stands up, and nods at Dusty, “See ya, perv!”

And she’s gone, just like that, leaving Dusty with a carrot hanging out of his mouth.

Outside, she turns around.

“Damn it! What was I doing…? Oh hole no!” she reaches for the diner door which fades into nonexistence, and the world disappears.

”YOU WANT TO KILL MY DISCIPLE INSIDE HIS MIND? FOOLISH BUG. YOU’VE ENTERED MY DOMAIN, AND YOUR MINDS ARE MY PLAYTHINGS NOW.”

With breakfast behind him, Dusty goes about his day. Warehouse work is never boring, although one needs to develop the ability to shut the brain off in order to survive the long hours. Thankfully, there’s lunch at work. Granted, since Dusty is doing a double shift, he’ll need dinner he doesn’t have, but it’s just a single day.

That, unfortunately, bites him in the plot.

As he’s carrying a crate double his size carefully balanced on his back, his stomach grumbles, and he stumbles. The heavy, wooden crate breaks his balance, and hits the floor with a heavy thud, the straps holding it on Dusty’s back suddenly crushing him against it.

A security guard unicorn rushes towards him, immediately cutting the harness and freeing the choking earthpony who rubs his chest and groans in pain.

“Ribs?” the guard asks.

“Just… hurts… I don’t think… I broke anything...” Dusty wheezes.

“Good. I’ve got some compression bandages in my bag in the security booth, sit still. I’ll be right back,” the guard runs off. As he levitates his bag up, he and the booth disappear instantly.

”OH LOOK, ANOTHER BUG FAILS HIS ASSASSINATION. AND THIS ONE WAS ACTUALLY EASY! YOU JUST HAD TO WAIT AND DO NOTHING. TSK TSK. IS THERE NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU ABLE TO KILL HIM?”

“Oh great, grandpa broke some equipment,” says a new voice belonging to a different unicorn tapping against a ‘This side up’ writing on the big crate, “Oooh, and this shipment isn’t cheap.”

Another damn unicorn. Those bastards don’t know anything about a good day’s work.

“Look… I just need a little break… and everything here… is insured...” Dusty winces as he speaks. Maybe he did hurt himself a little more than he thought.

“True, true,” the unicorn is in his late twenties, an already a manager, or at least something certainly higher than Dusty, “But you’re going into my report. You and Booksmart. Seriously, you should both be in retirement already, sucking dust in Appleloosa. Young ponies need these jobs too, and they have potential.”

As much as Dusty would like to answer with a little bit of the old earthpony fuck you and punch in the face, he knows that he can live with the unicorns sneering, but not without money. Wisdom which comes with age, that is.

“Well, I’m still working here, and I’ve been sitting around here for long enough,” Dusty stands up with a hiss, and opts for loading a smaller crate while a different earthpony takes care about the dropped one.

The rest of the double shift is uneventful, until the unicorn comes back near midnight with a pair of satchels and envelopes.

“Booksmart, Dusty Satchel!” he calls out, and the requested elderly pair of a unicorn and earthpony approach.

“So, guys, it’s been an honor working with you,” he smirks, “And it’ll be even more tomorrow when you’re NOT around. Here are your paychecks for this week, with an end-of-service bonus for Booksmart, and without one for Dusty, because of the stuff you broke today. As it turns out, it WASN’T properly insured.”

He’s doing it on purpose, don’t punch him. Take the money, pay the rent, and think about what to do tomorrow.

Dusty breathes out, and takes the envelope as well as the bag of bits without a word. It’s been a long and grueling day.

Screw life, seriously...

Booksmart’s foreleg lands around his neck.

“How about we celebrate finally leaving this ass job?” the unicorn levitates the significantly thicker envelope in front of Dusty.

“I kinda need this ass job to keep eating and breathing, Books,” Dusty sighs, “How are you not bothered by this? We’re roughly the same age, and we’ve been dealing with the same ‘you are too old’ shit for years.”

“Life is life,” Booksmart shrugs, “I’m moving to Griffonstone next month. Trust me when I say that Equestrian retirement money goes a looong way there. That monthly nothing I’ll spend here in Manehattan to breathe can make me live like a king there. Plus, you know, lion booty. I’ll just have to get used to them eating meat, but hey, some ponies do it here too on occasion, so it can’t be that bad.”

“What about Hookshot?” Dusty has known Booksmart long enough to have met his rather adventurous pegasus wife.

“Ol’ Hooker?” Books laughs, “She’s the one who came up with the idea. The area north of Griffonstone is desolate land, and she thinks she’ll be digging up old artefacts on daily basis. On my end, I won’t get lonely when she’s away on digs and adventures, because I’ve got the bits. I can pay two dancer chicks to follow me at every hoofstep, and still be okay.”

“I’d join you in a heartbeat,” Dusty laughs as the two leave the warehouse, “But I still want to stay on the same continent as Blinky, even though her mother disagrees.”

Booksmart pats Dusty’s back.

“Screw that old bat. Your daughter loves you despite how little time you’re allowed to have with her, and that’s all that matters. Come on, let’s pretend we’re young, and go out drinking tonight. To celebrate freeing ourselves from the shackles of menial labor.”

He can afford a late dinner now, and since he’s lost his job, it might be actually better to stay in a motel for a while instead of his own apartment anyway.

“I’m paying!” Books waves his envelope again.

Fiiine, he needs to kill time before the meeting with the secret society weirdos anyway.

“Alright, but only because it’s you,” Dusty grins.

After two hours in a nightclub on the other side of Manehattan where Dusty has never been before, rather blurry Booksmart wobbles away, leaving the earthpony alone.

It doesn’t take long before the unicorn’s world fades to black, and he facehoofs, memories trickling back to him.

“I screwed up, didn’t I?” asks Seven.

”OH YOU SOFTIES. PROPER CHANGELINGS WOULDN’T BLINK BEFORE TURNING THEIR ENEMY INTO A VEGETABLE, BUT YOU GOODY TWO HORSESHOES CAN’T. DON’T WORRY, YOU WILL REMEMBER YOUR ‘KIND’ HEARTS AS HE RIPS THEM OUT OF YOU!”

“Is this seat taken?” asks a dark yellow, earthpony mare with brown, short, and spiky mane wearing a skirt. Dusty, rather taken aback, simply nods. She looks in her late twenties, and if she isn’t a fitness model or something along those lines, he needs his eyes checked.

“I mean no!” he realizes his mistake when she turns around. She gives him a confused look, “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something else. No one else is at this table, just good old me.”

He expected her to simply keep walking away or sit across the round table from him, but she takes a chair next to him, and pushes it closer.

“You here often?” she asks.

“First time, actually. I came here with a friend, but he’s a unicorn. They can’t handle their liquor,” he chuckles, “We both just got fired, so we wanted to celebrate freedom, or drown our sorrows… either works. This place is for young ponies,” he looks around. The clientele certainly is mostly young, but he can see the occasional forty-something stallion or mare trying to catch a bunny or a loli or whatever it’s called these days.

“Not really,” the mare leans towards him, and puts a hoof on his broad chest. Despite his age and weariness, Dusty’s life of hard work and the whole earthpony shtick certainly left him in a good shape, “I, myself, prefer the touch of a stallion rather than an overgrown colt,” she leans even closer, rubbing her nose against his, “Name’s Flower Pot, what’s yours, big guy?”

“D-Dusty Satchel,” he replies, stunned.

“Been a while since your last date, was it?” she chuckles, returning to her chair, “Nervous much?”

Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t seem turned off by his hesitation.

“Well, I might be taken, right?” Dusty tries to play it cool.

“In here?” Flower Pot looks at the distant stage with oiled mares spinning around poles, “I doubt that. So how about we bond over a drink, and see where it goes?”

Two glasses of something that melts both brain cells and stomach lining later, very flattered Dusty is just drunk enough to believe the mare might actually have an interest in him.

She leans in, and kisses him. He’s hesitant at first, but soon he feels her hooves running all over his barrel, and she pushes herself onto him. Everything seems perfect for just a moment.

Until he hears a scornful:

“Now that’s a pathetic attempt to recapture your youth and virility long gone, Dusty. Some rave whorse, really?”

Of all the nightclubs in this city, she had to walk into mine.

“Hey!” Flower Pot stands up from the suddenly frozen target of her affection, “Who the hole are you?”

“Bean Wisp?” Dusty’s eyes go wide, “What are you doing here?”

The forty-six years old earthpony mare, and, the significantly worse part, Dusty’s ex-wife, sneers at him. In Dusty’s defense, ten-year age difference wasn’t that big a deal when he was thirty. Of course she would dump him when he turned fifty.

“NOT drooling over the first cheap skank willing to give me any,” Bean Wisp is obviously trying to make Flower Pot mad. To her credit, the young mare is taking it in stride.

A shadow even bigger than Dusty slaps Bean Wisp’s bottom, and walks side by side with her.

“Who’s this old bozo?” asks a towering zebra stallion with a short mohawk and the musculature of a professional hoofball player.

“My ex trying to recapture his youth,” laughs Bean, “Let’s go have some real fun. I doubt he can still get it up anymore anyway. I’m sure you won’t have that problem.”

“With you, babe?” he bites the nape of her neck, making her moan, “I’m hardly holding back as it is.”

With laughter, they leave Dusty and Flower Pot alone. The earthpony, though, only sits there, staring at the empty glass on the table.

“Dusty?” asks Flower Pot, “Was that really your ex-marefriend?”

“Ex-wife, actually. We got divorced just as… just as our daughter was born,” Dusty sighs, his voice trailing off into nothing, “Look, I can’t. I should go, this isn’t my life. You’re a nice girl, incredibly hot girl but… compared to me… a girl. I feel as if I should take you home to your parents, not have sex with you. I’m sorry.”

To his surprise, she puts a hoof on his muzzle and looks him in the eyes.

“That’s so sweet,” she gives him a quick peck on the lips, “Look, I don’t understand how you feel, I can’t really, but I know when to stop pushing. Good night,” she turns away, but looks back with a smirk a moment later, “If it helps, Zigs has shriveled balls and everything from all the roids he does. I’d take an earthpony like you instead of him any day. Your ex is in for quite a disappointing surprise when she gets home. She’s hot, though, I mean for her age.”

“You were this close to making me feel better,” Dusty puts his forelegs together, making Flower Pot laugh before walking off and disappearing in the crowd.

And, like with any other failed changeling, her reality shatters, and Five remembers what her goals was. She hangs her head low, and curses.

”YOU ARE SENT ON A MISSION TO KILL, BUT WHEN I TAKE AWAY THE MOTIVATION, YOU DO WHAT YOUR NATURE TELLS YOU, AND YOU ARE WEAK! YOU HELPED HIM, COMFORTED HIM, WERE NICE TO HIM INSTEAD OF KILLING HIM. YOU ARE HILARIOUS!”

Smiling, Dusty ponders whether he should go home, but while he has no desire to bring any of the willing mares home after splitting up with Flower Pot, he has relaxed enough to have a closer look at the mares on the stage. Luckily, the bar counter and high stools are close enough.

The barmaid is a zebra mare wearing a tuxedo jacket which only accentuates her hips swaying with every step. This, of course, draws the eyes of everyone by the counter whenever she turns around to select the right bottles for any ordered drink.

“Do I have something on my face?” she notices Dusty staring.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect a zebra here. I mean, working here. You’re pretty enough to be a guest here, not spend time behind a counter.”

“Hey, if it comes to potions, you can’t beat a zebra,” says the mare, “What’ll it be? And no, you can’t order me.”

“You hear that often, don’t you? Long Island, please,” Dusty hops on the nearest stool.

“Yep, even here in Manehattan. Though at this point I take it as a compliment,” her hooves blur as she expertly pours layer upon layer of liquor into a tall glass, “So, what ale’s you?”

“That was a horrible bartender joke, isn’t it?”

“Good ears, even over all this club noise,” chuckles the barmaid, “Though it’s getting calmer and more boring at this time of night. Everyone’s at that sleep drunk stage. You’re one of the few not trying to land a one night stand.”

“A young lady here helped me realize that I’m too old for this, so the plan is to drown my sorrows now.”

“Those buggers are good swimmers usually, maybe an open ear will help more, and be easier on the liver. But keep on ordering something, or I’m out of my job.”

“Speaking of out of job,” Dusty snickers, “That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s a long string of misery, really, ever since my divorce. My wife got everything I had. Screw the apartment, small cottage in the country, or everything else, but the court gave her Blinky.”

“Your daughter, I assume? Or pet? Sorry, I’m not good with pony names.”

Dusty’s eye twitches, but when he sees genuine concern in the zebra’s face, he calms down.

“My daughter. I named her that when I first saw her. She blinked at me, and… it does sound silly now that I say it, but… she was everything at that moment,” he wipes his eyes, “But I knew it was right. She likes chemistry.”

“Neat, if you’re not careful, she’ll become a sexy barmaid listening to sad stories every night. Speaking of which, be careful with that drink. It tastes somewhat like soda, but it hits like a truck.”

“Y-Yeah,” Dusty has managed to draw a vaguely pony face from the spilled drink, which the barmaid correctly translates as the sad story not being over yet, “One more, and then I’ll be off. By the way, do you know any cheap motels around? I think I might have been kicked out of my apartment today.”

“I’m not one to point out flaws, but that sounds like bad time management.”

Dusty waves his hoof.

“My life has been steadily breaking apart since the divorce. I live only for the two days every few weeks when I can visit Blinky and take her somewhere. Last time, I took her all the way to Canterlot to see the new princess. And for her birthday, I bought her a chemistry set while her mother was plowing zebras every evening. I don’t know, I just can’t find meaning in anything other than her.”

“How did she ever get custody of her?”

“She was ten years younger than me, so she got a decent job after her part of the maternal leave, and while I was a year at home with Blinky, she put up a case of me being an uneducated stallion who had only ever worked in the docks or did odd jobs, and that I couldn’t take care of Blinky. She still takes half of my salary as alimony. If Blinky didn’t love me as much as she does...”

The barmaid pats his head.

“Believe it or not, I’ve heard a story like that many, many times. I just don’t know how it ends, because I’m here, and the ponies who share their pain with me eventually aren’t. The best I can say is that even if you are far away from your daughter, she loves you, and she won’t forget her through any and all uncertainty and adversity.”

Dusty’s vision is blurry, and no amount of wiping can help anymore.

“S-Speaking from ex-experience?”

“Yeah,” she smiles.

Dusty pushes himself on all fours on the second attempt.

“I should go.”

“Good luck.”

With that, Dusty pays his bill, and leaves.

”ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS POISON HIM. SO EASY. HELL, EVEN JUST LETTING HIM DRINK UNTIL HIS LIVER GAVE OUT WOULD HAVE GOTTEN HIM, MAYBE. YOUR KING MUST BE SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, AND YOU GOT FURTHER THAN ANY OF YOUR MIND CONTROL EXPERTS, EVEN THAT PATHETIC SUCCUBUS COULDN’T SEE THROUGH HER PART IN TIME.”

“I know,” admits Gem, “I understood this illusion, and I assume each of us has a role to play, but I couldn’t just kill him. Even for the greater good, I couldn’t.”

Gem fades.

”YOUR PURITY AGAINST THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD, CHANGELING, AND YOU CHOSE TO DOOM THEM.”

Dusty Satchel stumbles through the early morning Manehattan. There is over an hour left before the secret meeting, and he probably shouldn’t get there wasted. Maybe if he’s at least a little lucky, he’ll be able to get into his apartment, and if he leaves the money with the landlord he might not get kicked out after all.

As he walks through a park, two unicorns and an earthpony catch up to him. He, in his shape, hears them too late, and the blackjack to his head catches him completely off-guard. Dusty drops like a sack of bricks. He can feel something touching his saddlebag, so he kicks up and hears a crack. An earthpony without inhibitions is a deadly force, which one of the unicorns, specifically the one currently landing on the grass a pony length away, learns quickly.

Unfortunately, then comes the angry kick to the head from one of his mates, followed by multiple more kicks into his head, back, and barrel. He protects his muzzle at first, but the dazing kicks prove too much, and he can feel his saddlebags being taken away shortly.

“What’s going on here!” yells someone, making the three attackers scatter. A moment later, Dusty sees light approaching, and hooves touching him, “Are you okay?”

It’s a Royal Guard helmet.

“J-Just leave me here...” Dusty breathes out, realizing the muggers took all his money, and with them any hope for the future, “I don’t have anywhere to go anymore...”

He can barely make out the armored mare who picks him up on her back.

“Look, if it was up to me, your drunk ass deserves this, but It’s my job to protect even those with whose choices I don’t agree,” she says, her voice deep for a mare and filled with disdain, “Where do you live? I’ll make sure you get home safe, and we can write a protocol there.”

Back in the apartment building, the armored mare carries Dusty upstairs until he says:

“That bastard...”

A pile of personal belongings on the floor of the hallway tolls the final bell for Dusty’s hopes about today possibly somehow working out, although it’s more a rotten cherry on a spoiled cake that were the muggers.

“Is that your stuff?”

“Yes, and I can’t pay my rent now that the assholes robbed me,” Dusty slides off of the mare’s back, “And no, I can’t tell you anything about them other than they were two unicorns and an earthpony. Colors? No idea - night. Voices? They didn’t speak. I’m sorry, miss, but that’s it. I’m done,” he sits down with his back against the wall, “I told you you should have left me there.”

“Look, if you don’t want to at least file a complaint, I can’t help you. I’ll bring you to the station, it’s not a big deal.”

Dusty shakes his head.

“No, it’s… okay.”

“Fine,” she shakes her head, “But if you decide to be reasonable, police station is-”

“I know where it is, and thank you, officer. I mean it,” he smiles, one eye swollen.

“Alright, alright,” with a sigh of her own, she leaves Dusty next to a pile of his things.

”REALLY? REALLY?! YOU DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE WHAT’S GOING ON? NOT EVEN THE SLIGHTEST IDEA?”

“What’s going on- oh fuck!” Eight disappears.

”YOU REALLY DON’T DESERVE MY GLOATING.”

“Hello, sir!”

Dusty turns his head, and sees a pegasus colt around twelve tugging at a bag of garbage.

“Who are you?” asks Dusty

“I’m Glowstick, I live next door,” he trots over, and carefully pokes Dusty, “The unicorn who owns this place sent few ponies who threw all this out of the apartment. If you want, I can help you throw things out,” he nods to his half-empty bag, “Dad’s busy today so it’s up to me to keep the place all neat and tidy.”

“You live there with just your dad?”

“Oh yeah. I remember mom only from when I was really small, and dad didn’t tell me where she went. He always says he’ll tell me when I’m older.”

“Heheh, my filly always gets mad at me when I say something like that.”

“I trust dad, he’s awesome. We’ve been through a lot of bad stuff with unicorns, but he’s always found a way to pull through. He’ll tell me when I’m ready, and I’ll have to prove he believed me for a good reason.”

“You’re a good colt, Glowstick.”

“Hee hee hee,” the colt beams, then realizes something, “I almost forgot, I gotta take out the trash! I can take something if you want, really, no problem. I’m stronger than I look.”

“Heh, don’t worry about that,” Dusty can’t help smiling. There’s just something about Glowstick that takes his mind away from the pain of today… and the last decade, “I’ll just have a quick rest, and then I’ll figure out what to do with my stuff.”

“Okay! Goodnight, mister… Dusty… Pouch?”

“Dusty Satchel.”

“Eeeh, sorry. Goodnight!” Glowstick grabs the trash bag, and resumes pulling it down the long hall and down the stairs.

”AN OVERWHELMING FORCE OF POSITIVITY.”

“Yep, that’s me!”

”WHAT? THAT’S ALL? A GOD IS TALKING TO YOU AND THIS IS ALL YOU’LL SAY?”

“What’s a god?”

”AN OMNIPOTENT BEING CAPABLE OF WIPING OUT YOU AND YOUR WHOLE LITTLE HIVE WITH A THOUGHT!”

“Neat, thanks for not thinking about it then!”

”YOU! WHAT? YOU! I-”

“Bye, mister dog!” Three disappears into the darkness on his own.

Dusty, of course, has no clue about any of that happening as he lies beside the pile of his belongings. Maybe he’ll just leave everything here for the time being, go to the secret meeting, and then he’ll see what next. After all, he’s supposed to receive their Watcher’s Gift, and they might let him stay in their warehouse base at least for tonight.

Yeah, that’s a good course of action.

With a grunt, his attempt at getting up is interrupted by a noise like an open sack of potatoes spilling down a set of wooden stairs. Immediately after, he just blinks in confusion as a tide of eleven tiny changelings rolls over him, all grabby and nuzzly.

“What the-? Uhh, what?” Dusty can’t grasp the absurdity of the situation, “If you want love, or whatever they said you eat, I doubt I’ve got any left after today. I’m just tired.”

The changelings hug him at once, and then rush off.

“What?” repeats Dusty, head tilted and brows furrowed.

”ASKING THE WRONG GOD HERE, I HAVE NO IDEA.”

Of course, Dusty doesn’t hear the booming voice, so with only a shake of his head, he gets up and sets on his way to the secret meeting.

When he drinks the strange water the ‘cultists’ present to him, everything becomes clear. The weariness of age suddenly feels easier, the future is brighter, and he is stronger than maybe ever before. All he needs to do now is bring more ponies into the fold, and when he does, there will be more of the Gift waiting for him.

He’ll get through any adversity to be with Blinky. A lot of horrible things happened today, but maybe there is still a little light in this world.

No one who hasn’t been “there” truly understands how little kindness is needed to make things go a completely different way.

***

In the common darkness of the hive mind, all changelings appear.

“What happened?” I ask, “I sent you into the Vigil’s head, and suddenly everything just went black. Next thing I know, we’re all back here.”

”THEY FAILED YOU! YOUR ASSASSINS COULDN’T MUSTER THE COURAGE OR FORESIGHT TO KILL MY SERVANT. AND WITH THAT, I BID YOU FAREWELL. YOU WERE AMUSING TOYS TO WATCH, BUT YOUR TIME IS UP. THINK ABOUT YOUR WEAKNESS AS HE RIPS YOUR SOFT HEARTS OUT.”

With echoing laughter, the foreign presence is gone.

“I… failed...” One stares into the darkness, “I understood the illusion too late. I just… when I was… when I wasn’t myself… I just couldn’t harm someone for no reason, no matter how much I disliked him. Not anymore...”

“Yeah,” Two agrees, “I was a step away from him. One good stab and he was a goner, but… everyone was just shitting on him all the time, and even if he deserved a little part of it, all I could think of was that I needed to help him. Of course, if I was myself and knew what was on the line, I would have ended him immediately.”

“He just needed a friend, because the only one who he could talk to was a talking dog,” Three shakes his head, “Can dogs talk? I don’t recall from when we were on the surface.”

“Hole, even just having someone to listen to his problems helped, just not enough,” Gem sighs, “I must come clean, if this is the end, I saw through the illusion. I just couldn’t poison him, or let him poison himself. I’m sorry… and at the same time I’m not. I failed all of you, but I didn’t fail myself.”

She hangs her head, and I hug her.

“Like others, I realized what was happening only when I was allowed to and the voice gloated at me. I failed the hive,” says Five simply.

“I played his friend, his FRIEND!” Seven punches the ground, “I had the easiest role, and I couldn’t do anything. On instinct, I even took him out to make him feel better. Why are we so soft and all goody-goody?” he frowns, “Some infiltrator I am… I had no clue what was going on until the end.”

“What illusion, what was going on?” asks Eight, “I remember being a guard and then… something?”

“I GOT STUCK HERE!” yells Cryo.

“I guess you changed the changelings, boss,” Ten chuckles, “Too bad that if we were heartless, self-serving monsters like before, we might have caused some brain damage to that bastard and KEEP on being heartless, self-serving monsters. Just kidding, boss, I wouldn’t change it for the old days, even if it means us dying here.”

“I don’t think any of you want me to say I’m sorry,” I look at them shaking their heads as one, “Then I guess it’s time to go back and face the consequences. Whoever can run, run!”

The inky blackness of the hive mind disappears, giving way to the reality of the istrium mine hub lit by Seven’s floating green balls. No, not those. Those can be green, but don’t float.

Huh, the Vigil looks a little brighter. His mane is less dusty and greyed out, and the same goes for his coat.

”FINISH THEM, AND THEN YOU CAN GO HAVE FUN WITH THE DWARVES AND ANYONE ELSE. THE TIME FOR MY RETURN IS COMING.”

“I...” the Vigil- Dusty Satchel hesitates, and groans, “Not like… this...”

“What would Blinky think if she saw this?” I ask. He drops on his haunches, staring at me with horrified eyes filling with tears.

“You’re right...” he whispers, “I remember… it was bad, but not all dark and bleak. Maybe there is some hope.”

I mentally poke Three.

”He’s distracted. Friendship camp time.”

He pushes the button on the BFG.

“Yay, lasers, friendship, love, and hope. All that in rainbow form!” Three yells, smiling, “Welcome to the friendship camp!”

And so, Dusty Satchel gets blasted not with green boiling ball of plasmatic death, but with an actual pulsating rainbow ball shooting out of the weapon head on.

It’s filled with love, friendship, hope, rainbows…

...but thankfully, the plasma is still there too.

Rainbow lasers of friendship are great, but I’ll take an unstable fusion core shot at my enemies any day over it.

WHY is it made of rainbows this time? I have no idea. If there’s someone I’m not about to question, it’s Three.

“Wohooo! He didn’t forget to pack anything this time!” Three cheers at the thin wisp of smoke, the only thing remaining from Dusty and the boiling crater around where he was.

We did it. It’s over.

37 - Epilogue: Onwards to the future!

View Online

“I’M A CHANGELING, NOT A MACHINE!” I scream as Eight gets ready for another round of unspeakable things unbelievable to be possible, and likely illegal in most places.

“That was just a warmup, you big larva,” Eight advances on me as I squirm spreadeagle on the floor and fight against the goo bonds around all my legs, “Now grow a second one, and let’s see if we can shove a ribbed, dragon peg into a round hole.”

So, it’s been six days since we destroyed Dusty, and everything has been peaceful-

Wait, no time. Eight’s about to test the soundproofing of this room in the most fun way possible.

Busy, come back later!

***

Five examines the laser rifle Six gave her, points it at him, and pulls the trigger. The drone jumps away, but the rifle doesn’t fire.

“It overheats after three shots,” she says, pouting slightly at Six’s reaction, “You didn’t think I would really shoot you, did you?”

“Umm, well… my only experience in this is how Eight and One treat the boss, so...” Six scratches his head nervously.

Five ponders this for a moment, then nods.

“True,” she advances on Six, leaning down to his nose, “So, how about we do so imitating of our own, my little drone?”

“Uh whuh wha who what?” Six’s jaw drops.

“Some hot, sweaty, steamy exercise,” she whispers hotly into his ear, “Just the two of us, and one locked room.”

“Umm, well, maybe… start slow?” Six can’t believe what’s going on. He must be sleeping. This must be a dream.

Five locks the entrance to the empty shooting range.

“Of course we can start slow,” Five grins, showing as many teeth as she can, “It’s my job to serve the hive, which means to make it better, and you’ve been avoiding morning exercises, Six. That won’t do,” shaking her head, she circles around Six and slaps his butt.

“I’m still not really sure if this is a prelude to a clop setup, or-”

“DROP AND GIVE ME FIFTY!” Five screams.

NO, IT’S A NIGHTMARE!

***

Seven is sitting in an armchair, enjoying the peace and quiet of the library. Casually, he summons a floating green skull which lazily patrols the library, searching for possible intruders.

Spells… infiltration… how useless has it all been? All the knowledge, the power given to him, and it meant next to nothing.

With a sigh, he gets up and starts walking around in search of a more specific kind of magic - charms, seduction, minor mind control. The advanced versions of stuff Two borrowed what now seems like eternity ago. Biting mares in order to gain horribly tainted lust and an amount of love equal to a casual hug between acquaintances isn’t the way to go. With magic, he might get a little more, and without the unhealthy taint of venom.

It would probably be better for him to control and manipulate events and ponies rather than to try to explode them once things go wrong. Or maybe he could simply do what the boss wanted him to do all along, just go out and keep trying until it works. After all, he can switch disguises as much as he wants, and when he’s more sure of himself, try as a changeling.

“Here goes nothing...” he sighs and turns away from the bookshelves. He still levitates few books on the subject of hypnosis and love. tt never hurts to have a little crutch in the beginning.

The library door opens, letting in none other than One.

“Oh, if you’re looking for Two or Five, neither are here at the moment,” he says.

One looks at Seven’s charred ‘spellcasting corner’, namely at the summoning circle burned into the carpet.

“No, no, I was looking for you, actually,” One gives him a smile, “We have some unfinished business.”

She transforms into her succubus form, and spreads her leathery wings.

“Um, what?” Seven takes a step back, levitating the held books in front of himself.

“Well,” One advances at him, “You summoned me fair and square, and I really didn’t have time to deal with it at the moment. Now, everything is calm and peaceful, so it’s up to me to fulfill my part of the summoning contract. You wanted lust, and you wanted love. I can assure you, I can give you the former in abundance.”

As One licks her lips, Seven drops the books.

***

“SHINY!” Cryo’s voice echoes through the almost empty castle plaza of Brauheim.

“So… this doesn’t jog your memory either?” Two looks at the beautifully lit dwarven castle across the bridge in the distance.

“LIKE PONY PRINCESS CITY, ONLY WITH A BEARD!” the huge queen smiles.

“Makes me wonder what you saw that the beard sticks so much in what little memory is left,” Two chuckles.

“IT WAS SWIRLY, WITH STARS! IT WANTED WEIRD SCARY ROCKS.”

“I… don’t even know where to begin with that,” Two rubs her head against Cryo’s foreleg, “You know… since you’re all blue, your goo looks like ice, and your name is fucking Cryo, do you like cold?”

“WE DO NOT REQUIRE A BROODMATE AT THE MOMENT!”

“I didn’t mean the fucking part literally.”

“WHERE DO BOOKS COME INTO THIS? ARE WE IN A BOOK? IS IT A GOOD BOOK, ONE WORTHY OF A QUEEN?”

“Just come along, I’ve got an idea,” Two nods, “How about we take a trip to the surface? Three’s been running around the whole underground since we vaporized that Vigil guy, and has found few unguarded access paths. That drone sure loves his holes.”

“CUPHOLDERS!” Cryo shows off two circular holes in her forelegs which could maybe serve for double-pint mugs, or possibly small cooking pots, but certainly not cups.

“If even you start glowing and randomly hugging everyone, I’m jumping off of that bridge again,” mumbles Two, unable to stop the growing grin on her muzzle.

***

“Got everything that you need?” asks Gem, “I can ask the dwarves to give you some stuff for the road-”

“Don’t worry,” Bright Star finishes packing his final saddlebag, and gives his cave slash apartment one final look, “The blizzard is over, and we’ve got a long report to give to princess Celestia. Namely, Ten here does.”

The changeling paladin in question already loaded up with everything for the trip back to Canterlot sighs.

“That’s one part of the job I could go without - the paperwork. Are you sure you don’t want to go back with us?” he asks, giving Gem a pleading look.

“Don’t give me puppy eyes. I survived Three’s, so you don’t stand a chance,” Gem boops Ten’s nose, “I’ll be staying here with the boss for some time. Besides, minotaurs and especially dwarves might have some interesting know-how regarding chemistry, so this is a great opportunity for me. It’s your job to tell the princesses about our little hive. They might want a diplomatic meeting after all.”

“Exactly,” Bright Star pats Ten’s back, “And if you’re lucky, you might earn your first paladin request for this mission.”

“What? As a pally on probation?” Ten blinks.

“Of course, and you know what that means.”

“Another underbelly trip to Manehattan?” Ten asks immediately, then covers his mouth, red as a tomato.

“If you so desire,” Bright Star smirks, “The princess fulfills anything within reason, so no ruling Equestria or turning into an alicorn, but an unrestrained, let’s say, night with the princess is nothing special. Many paladins use their requests for this as a reward for their service.”

“And you?” Gem winks at the unicorn.

“I… maybe have given it a shot once when I was younger, yes,” he smiles, “After my first wife died of old age, I wanted to try something special, because I believed that with my usual requests for extended lifespan I would never find real love again, and I looked for solace in the princess’ bed.”

“Aaaaaand…?” Ten makes a circle with his hoof.

“You surely don’t want me to spoil that for you, do you?” Bright Star teases him, “And certainly don’t take me using my paladin request like that only once as a sign of disappointment. It was an experience I haven’t forgotten to this day.”

“Wooo, let’s go back to Canterlot!” Ten shoots out of the apartment, much to Gem’s laughter, “I freely admit, I’m gonna miss minotaur booty, though.”

***

“This tunnel is weird,” comments Three after many hours of casual trekking down a straight tunnel, silence only broken by his and Eleven’s hoofsteps. So many hoofsteps.

“Long,” the nearest Eleven agrees.

After finally dealing with the deadliest threats to Brauheim, Three used the fact that the dwarves forced all common animals and critters away to explore as much of the empty underground as he could, and found this weird tunnel. At first, there was too much to do - explain to the dwarves what happened, talk to everyone back in the emerald mine, make sure Stompy was okay back in the lab, but as things calmed down, he got bored and his drone instincts took over.

With everyone busy, he took Eleven who had nothing to do either, and went to explore this strange, straight tunnel, longer than any other he’s seen before.

Finally, after almost a day’s trip, the tunnel slopes upwards, and rather abruptly ends in a spiral staircase leading up.

“Up is good, right?” asks Three, “Gem said ponies didn’t hate changelings anymore.”

Eleven shrugs, or Elevens shrug. Both are right. Stupid language.

After three hundred stairs, Three loses count, the numbers just going *bloing!* in his head and getting all muddled up. Curiosity, though, wins over disappointment, and eventually all twelve changelings- changeling bodies end up in a short corridor ending in a smooth wall made of blue crystal. Three can’t see through it, so he does the best test he can - the poke.

The wall doesn’t react.

“Button,” one Eleven with his head right above the floor pokes a spot on the left wall which clicks. The wall fades, and Three immediately peeks into a large hall, much larger than even the dwarven ones where Stompy could fit, all made of the same blue crystal as the strange door.

“Woooow!” his amazed voice echoes through the hall and many other branching off of this one. Carefully, he transforms his hooves into something softer, and after Eleven mimics him for all his bodies, the changelings start sneaking over the smooth floor, their hoofsteps making only a scratching noise of a rushing metal centipede. Any infiltrator worth their salt would facehoof, but they would never be this adorable, so screw them.

Suddenly, after rounding a corner, Three freezes.

There’s a pony stallion wearing armor and a helmet, dozing off while propped on his spear. The thing is… he’s all SPARKLY, like made of pony stuff but glass!

Beaming, Three sneaks towards him, then pokes his leg. The Crystal Guard mumbles in his sleep, but that’s it. Three turns around, and sees nothing. He blinks, furrowing his brows. No, he CAN see something. Eleven somethings which are now made of almost see-through glass cut like the crystal pony guard.

“...woooow, nice disguise...” Three whispers, and after some focusing, he frowns, “...I can’t do that...” he can’t get depressed now, he’s in charge of exploring this weird sparkly cave with a lot of doors, “...okay, if someone isn’t all friendly, you surprise hug them. No biting!”

Eleven is somewhat confused by how strangely his bodies are reflecting the dim light of the place, but nods anyway.

As the two changelings press on through the tall hallways, and pass by many more sleeping guards, runes on Three’s body start glowing brighter and brighter until even he realizes what has been instinctively leading his way ever since he entered this strange place.

There’s love, an unbelievable amount of love somewhere not too far away. Maybe just behind the huge door with two wings at the end of this long hallway which is bigger than any other in this crystal cave.

Thankfully, the door isn’t guarded, and slides open easily even to Three’s push. As he peeks through the crack, his jaw drops.

They ARE on the surface! The door opens into a big plaza with crystal floor, crystal houses all around, and a gargantuan spire in the center of it with some space underneath from where Three can feel love radiating so strongly that all changelings everywhere could stay fed by just being around.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

Unfortunately, there are two Crystal Guards by the other side of the gate Three has just opened, and these aren’t asleep.

“Opening this big door,” says Three, opting for honesty, “This place is all sparkly and really pretty. You ponies too. Do you polish yourself every morning?”

“...sometimes evening too...” mutters the other guard.

The first guard chokes for a moment before asking in a strained voice:

“Oh, you’re a changeling. Got lost in the Crystal Castle?”

“Mhm,” Three nods, “Boss is asleep, so we went exploring. The place is a little confusing.”

The guards furrow their brows as Eleven rushes out, barely visible in the gloom.

“What are those? Floating teeth?” both guards ready their spears.

“No no no, that’s Eleven,” Three jumps between Elevens fanning out and the closer guard, “Eleven, be nice and stop hiding,” Three pouts, “See? You scared him.”

Elevens return to normal changeling forms, and the more talkative guard can’t resist Three’s hurt look for more than few seconds.

“I’m sorry, you can go,” both guards returns to his post by the door.

“Thank you!” Three and Eleven beeline towards the love source in the distance.

“You know the castle is off limits at night, right?” asks the other guard.

“Do YOU want to report this and explain how a bunch of changelings got into the castle in the first place? Besides, they can’t have stolen anything. It’s not as if they had bags.”

“Meh, true,” the second guard shrugs, props his plot against the castle wall and his front against the spear, and yawns.

“Stupid early morning shifts,” the leading guard adds, doing the same as his eyes close on their own.

Crystal Empire security, everyone. Enjoy!

Three stops, watching a slowly turning heart made of greenish blue crystal hover between two spikes, one coming from the top and one from the bottom, under the tall spire in the center of the crystal plaza.

“What-”

“-this?” Eleven completely forgets to synchronize his mouths.

Three pokes the Crystal Heart.

“A… changeling candy machine?” he hazards a guess based on the love he’s absorbing, “Maybe they set it up here when bad mom made the big peace with ponies. Wait, is she still a bad mom when everything is okay now?” Three winces, recalling his short and rather unpleasant life in the old hive, “Umm… yep. Sorry, bad mom.”

Elevens form a small pyramid, and the top one pokes the Heart. A crack running through it, to be exact.

“Broken,” he says.

“Awww,” Three hugs the Crystal Heart, slowly spinning around with it. A blast of love flashes around, making the streets sparkle, and Three drop on the ground, “Oh my gosh, it really IS a changeling candy machine! You put in hugs, you get love. Boss needs to see this.”

Three spits on the floor, and then writes a “BRB<3” with the goo. When the sign hardens, he grabs the Heart, and gives it to Eleven whose bodies shuffle around to carry it.

“Let’s go. We’ll bring it right back after we show it to the boss.”

They pass through the big guarded door which they now know doesn’t lead to a big crystal cave, but a massive, beautifully hewn castle made of various types of crystal. The gate guards are now both asleep, thankfully, because Three has no clue how he would explain borrowing a candy machine, even though it’s clearly a public one.

They’re almost at the secret door when they’re stopped by a pink alicorn, one Three actually recognizes.

“Stop right there!” princess Cadance towers over the group of two changelings. She blinks, “Wait, is that the Crystal Heart? Who are you?” she leans to Elevens “WHAT are you?”

“We’re just borrowing the heart candy machine for a while to show it to the boss,” explains Three very helpfully.

“What ‘boss’?” the alicorn narrows her eyes, “HEY!” she calls out as very nervous Elevens dart away at full speed with the love machine.

“Umm… we’ll be back soon!” Three follows as fast as he can, not daring to look back. Not that he needs to, he can hear the heavy hoofsteps of the alicorn behind him, “LEG IIIIIIT!”

”BOOOOOSSSSSS, BOOOOSSSSS! WE MADE THE SPARKLY PONIES AND THE PINK PRINCESS MAD!”

***

I’m rushing through Three’s new tunnel, followed by Eight and One.

“The idiot found some secret passage into the Crystal Empire,” Eight shakes her head as we’re closing in on the fleeing changelings, “And what was that about a pink princess?”

“A trap, obviously,” One rolls her eyes, “The chances of them not being caught already are zero. Even though Cadance isn’t exactly the warrior type, she’s quite athletic.”

And finally, after nearly an hour of mad, love-fueled gallop bordering on blurry flight, we meet the twelve changelings gasping for breath.

“They stole the Crystal Heart,” One’s jaw drops when she spots Eleven’s cargo, “Nope, didn’t see that one coming.”

We let Three and Eleven pass, and spread out as little as we can in the rather narrow tunnel to face the incoming pink alicorn.

One suddenly facehoofs.

“Really? Were you trolling Shining Armor again?”

What?

“Well, well, well, the prodigal sons, daughter, and my best of the best return,” Cadance starts laughing. It’s a heavy, throaty laughter completely unfitting the princess, and then…

...green fire envelopes her, burning away the smaller form, and leaving behind a much taller, black equine with teal mane, and a loooot of sharp teeth.

“Ohhhhh… shit,” chill runs down my spine, “It’s mom.”

“Hey, boss!” Three starts jumping up and down, “It’s bad mom! Should I go get the friendship gun?”

Eight cracks her neck, narrowing her eyes. Heavy, chitinous blades grow on the back of her forelegs.

“I’m going to enjoy this...” she growls, “Mother.”

“Alright, alright, everyone calm down,” One walks between us and Chrysalis, “Especially you, Eight. You got to kill her once already, don’t be greedy. Let’s not do anything we’d all regret.”

I honestly have no idea what to say, and the same goes for Eight who is ready to fight at a moment’s notice against both One and Chrysalis.

“Kill me already?” Chrysalis tilts her head, “Ahhh, you mean the hive memory of myself,” she says in a laid back tone, “I suppose I should thank you for that. Or, to be accurate, ponies, changelings, everyone really should thank you for that.”

“Why are you here and what happens now?” asks Eight in a low, dangerous tone.

Chrysalis raises her hoof.

“I was coming back from my… diplomatic visit with emperor Shining Armor when I felt changelings I didn’t know sneaking around, which was rather surprising. What was much more interesting, though, was that when I found them they have just stolen the Crystal Heart under the noses of sleeping Crystal Guards. Seriously, the security of the place makes it obvious why they’ve been taken over by everyone who wanted a turn.”

“Three?” I ask carefully, “Why did you steal whatever this Crystal Heart is? And why does it radiate so much love?”

“The Crystal Heart is an ancient artefact capable of amplifying ambient love and spreading it all over Equestria and possibly even further,” says Chrysalis, “Probably the most important thing in the Crystal Empire.”

I raise an eyebrow at Three.

“Well… I mean… I hugged it, and it made a lot of love. I thought… it was a food machine...” Three ends in a whisper, withering under fifteen sets of eyes, “I thought boss would want to check it out,” he gives everyone the combined power of Three’s puppy eyes and ‘the legendary wibble’, “I wasn’t going to keep it, I swear!”

“Drone number...” Chrysalis stats talking, and stops, “Huh, I completely forgot. There was a three somewhere in it, wasn’t there? Nevermind,” she shakes her head, “You are coming with me and returning the Crystal Heart where it should be. You too, ‘boss’.”

“Yes, mom.”
“Yes, bad mom.”

“Good,” Chrysalis turns around, “Now you can tell me how you got here in the first place. I know a good deal of your story from One, but no one knew you would be up here. We’ve got enough time, now that we’re not running like crazy,” without looking back, she adds, “And stop scowling at my ass, daughter. You have a different master now, and I can feel from you that you are more than happy with him. I might decide to keep your little hive under some secret observation eventually, but you are free to live your life as you deem fit. I’m happy for you. For all of you, as hard as you might find it to believe. I’ve always wanted the best for my changelings, although it does hurt a little that you found more true happiness away from me than any other changeling has still under my rule.”

“So, what’s the diplomatic visit about?” asks One as we casually stroll through the tunnel back to the Crystal Empire. It’s going to be few hours at this pace, but we have a lot to talk about.

“I’m willing to do things with Shiny that Cadance isn’t too comfortable with yet. He doesn’t know, and thinks it’s all Cadance,” Chrysalis shrugs, “It helps my changelings- I apologize, ANY changelings move around the Crystal Empire unbothered. Most of us aren’t really used to living among ponies, and building our own lives and identities takes time. When they get too hungry to disguise themselves or life isn’t going well, they can spend some time here around the Heart and recover.”

“We don’t need to make up identities and disguises to live as us,” says Eight.

“Now THAT is something I’d like to hear about,” Chrysalis chuckles, “Well, One, tell me all about it.”

“I-” One opens her mouth.

“Not you,” Chrysalis says softly, “Not anymore. You’re not part of my world, succubus. The real One of my- of this hive. As for you, my demonic ex-subject, I suggest you find yourself a name, because at the moment you have none.”

Eight- One- whatever you want to call her now, starts talking. About how she fled from Las Pegasus, how she found her place among the dwarves, and about everything.

***

Several days later, something invisible sneaks through the Canterlot castle prison, stopping in front of a cell on the bottom floor. There are no guards down here anymore, every cell is locked tight, and the security checkpoint on the floor above wouldn’t allow anyone to get in and out without the most rigorous examination.

However, the door to Star Trail’s cell opens, and queen Chrysalis walks inside, her every step carefully watched by the cell's resident - the old, scowling ex-paladin himself.

Star Trail doesn’t say a word, the pure hatred Chrysalis can feel from him says more than enough.

“I know how much pain you caused to my subjects,” she says calmly, “I didn’t understand until I saw the drone you killed with my own eyes, and then his remains in the old castle. The pain from all of them when they told me...”

“What you monsters did to me and to Equestria is infinitely worse,” he hisses back.

“War was war, paladin,” says Chrysalis, not losing her cool even for a second, ”But you murdered an innocent, one offering peace on top of that. As their queen, no matter what they might think, it’s my time to pass judgement for this abominable deed.”

“Rot in tartarus, cockroach!” Star Trail spits Chrysalis in the face, “You monsters killed my Puff. I saw empty villages covered in acid and goo, or caves where you were hiding the starving victims. Don’t you dare lecture me about killing innocents!”

“As I said, war was one thing. This is another,” Chrysalis draws herself to her full height, which leaves her horn touching the ceiling of the cell, “The painful memory which brought you to this point of merciless madness, THAT is what your world will be from now on, what you will relive every single second until you die.”

Chrysalis’ eyes flash green, and Star Trail starts crying. As the queen vanishes, the ex-paladin collapses in the corner of the cell and doesn’t stop screaming until his throat gives out. That, however, is only the beginning of his remaining years of penance, living through Puff's death over and over. Forever.

Halls of the Changeling King

by Nameless Narrator

1: Wakey wakey, hooves off ovipositor!

2: Miners who kick major ass.

3: It's time to d-d-d-duel!

4: Back in charge, just like in the old days.

5: My little, angry, armored, drunk, bearded pony. My little, angry, armored, drunk, bearded pony. Aaah aaah aaah aaaaah!

6: Promises, promises, promises...

7: For each drone purchased you get one free.

8: New friends, new... enemies?

9: More trouble, again.

10: Warriors are scary, boss is scarier.

11: Underground species together.

12: Boss of the lings: Fellowship of the ling

13: Boss of the lings: Two's troubles.

14: Boss of the lings: Return of the ling

15: I guess she IS in this story after all.

16: New Beginning.

17: Almost a peaceful moment

18: Now everything IS peaceful. Finally!

19: Round two - Fight!

20: GRAAAAAAAAAAAANIIIIIIIIIIIITEEEEEEEEE!

21: There's buggery afoot- ahoof- ahole.

22: The hunt never ends...

23: Leaderless

24: Thrown into a blender

25: Face your darkness, or die crying

26: Seven minus Three equals what?

27: Gods and mortals dance to Scream's tune, whether they like it or not.

28: Secrets remain secrets only until Eight gets punch- involved.

29: The dumbest decision in the history of dumb decisions.

30: High-tech solutions to spindly problems.

31: All this effort, all this pain...

32: Five years in one quick chapter.

33: Third time's the harm.

34: The best infiltrator you'll ever fucking meet!

35: Finishing off side-quests, and earning last Paragon points before the final battle.

36: Together, facing perfection itself.

37 - Epilogue: Onwards to the future!