1: ROAD TRIP!

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Open plains covered in a blanket of snow spread as far as eyes can see, namely the two eyes belonging to a robed equine with a long trail of tracks leading from the figure to the distant forests to the south. The weather here up north is almost pleasant today, at least compared to its usual blizzard-y goodness which the traveller is used to. Hole, sometimes you can still see grass under the snow, which is practically sunburns territory for most locals. As it turns out, taking the long trek to the Everhoof range in summer for once was a smart idea.

A gust of wind blows the hood off of the equine’s head, revealing a black, chitinous carapace of a changeling. The changeling isn’t bothered, opting to look around with a chuckle instead covering her head again.

“Summer trip still doesn’t mean a seaside vacation, I guess. Maybe I should have taken the Crystal Empire tunnel...”

The changeling’s casual stride through the vast whiteness towards the distant mountain range doesn’t slow down in the slightest. A keen observer would note that the changeling can’t be a common one, unless her form is an actual disguise even now. First, she’s got a mane, a feature common changelings can’t grow naturally, a grey one streaked with pink. Second, her eyes aren’t the full insectile teal, rather a shifting pattern meant to distract anyone she desires to. And third, her carapace is decorated with lighter stripes resembling zebra’s. In fact, her whole shape is more akin to a full-bodied zebra rather than a lithe changeling. A full-bodied zebra from adult clop movies, to be accurate. Despite that, she’s carrying a big, military-grade backpack filled to the brim, and isn’t short of breath even though the nearest civilized settlement is over a full day’s trip away.

In short, her rough surroundings don’t take anything away from the changeling’s obvious confidence and power.

Her ear twitches.

“Heh, gotcha!” she smirks triumphantly, and kicks a cloud of snow in a seemingly random direction behind herself. The snow lands on something previous invisible, and reveals a vastly tinier equine stalking her, this one about half the size of a common changeling drone, suddenly busy wiping the white blanket off of its face, “You know you can’t hide from me, Eleven,” she sticks her tongue out at the little changeling who beams back with a mouth of full-sized, sharp teeth.

“Stalked-”

“-you-”

“-since-”

“-the-”

“-forest-”

“-miss-”

“-Gem.”

One sentence, seven different mouths from different angles.

Green sparks run through eleven equine shapes in varying distances away from Gem, all waving and returning from blending seamlessly with the scenery of white and faint green into clean, black changeling forms. Gem pats the head of the closest one, and all eleven faces light up with pure joy. They wither a little when Gem shakes her hoof afterwards.

“Forgetting to sync your mouths again?” she raises an eyebrow.

“Was focusing on not being seen too much, miss Gem,” the body of Eleven in front of Gem pulls off a whole sentence from one mouth with some concentration.

“I could sense you in the forest immediately. Does dad know I’m coming?”

Eleven shakes his head.

“Doesn’t know. Expects from your letter. You never take the tunnel. Wanted to catch you to show new entrance. Been out here for three days. There are wild minotaurs and animals. Fun!”

“New entrance to Brauheim? Lead the way then,” Gem nods at the speaking Eleven, “How did dad persuade the dwarves to finally build one?”

“No dwarves. New drones. Boss teaches proper digging. New hive.”

Gem’s sudden burst of laughter makes Eleven tilt his heads as he leads Gem in a slightly adjusted direction rather than straight north towards the Everhoof range and the minotaur city of Rift.

“Did mom finally lock dad in a cellar and didn’t let him out until she was full with a new clutch of changelings?”

“How do you know?” Eleven’s eyes go wide.

“Call it an educated guess,” Gem snickers. From the corner of her eye, she notices one of Eleven’s bodies get closer and closer. A quick peek from out of all changeling eyes around her, Gem notices that while the Eleven in front of her is leading the way, the others are gathering around her in an attempt to be out of sight, “No hug pile!” she says firmly, much to the dismay of Eleven whose bodies back off into a protective formation around her, “I’ve got something important for dad in the backpack, and I don’t want to risk it getting wet. The bag is made from the same stuff the Royal Guards use for swamp missions, but I don’t want to test my luck. I’ll give you a proper hug when we’re out of the snow.”

“Okay,” Eleven brightens up a bit. The small procession consisting of two changelings and twelve bodies proceeds to trudge through the snow with only the occasional exchange of words as Gem recalls something Canterlot-related that Eleven might find interesting. Hole, has it really been over six months since her last visit?

Nearly three hours later, a flash of light in the sky makes Gem look up, and grit her teeth. She reflexively grips one of many corked vials on a set of belts criss-crossing her chest under her robe. Eleven backs off as well, all bodies scattering around, and taking their usual chameleon-like chitin transformations.

Soon, the flash turns out to be an object hurtling towards the ground at meteoric speed, apparently screaming-

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!”

-all the time.

A certain specific hive link lights up in Gem’s mind, making her ease up and smirk.

What are you doing here, miss One- I mean, Comfort?

“YYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” the screaming ends with a loud *thud!* which scatters snow and dirt in a tiny mushroom cloud, strangely enough tipped with pink smoke. Gem and Eleven pick up the pace, and in few minutes close the distance to a small crater with a dizzy, yellow-maned changeling mare sitting in its center and blinking.

This changeling could pass for the ideal model, with her soft features and slender yet fit body shape marred only by a half-open mouth filled with possibly many dozens of needle-thin and sharp teeth which would send a shiver up any usual outer-space horror’s spine, if those fishy tentacled fucks had any.

“Aheough...” Comfort tries to speak, then frowns and spits out a chunk of dirt, “Owww...” she adds by the way of explanation, “You really need to find a better way to summon me, Gem.”

“I wasn’t trying to summon you at all, Comfort.”

“And therein lies the problem!” grumbles Comfort, the ex-number One of Gem’s hive, “I don’t know why it is so stupidly difficult to teleport divine creatures using magic, but it is. I really wasn’t expecting that trying to move around the world on my own as a succubus would be such pain in the ass. Can’t you just, I don’t know, have some canvas with a portable demon summoning circle on you and call me every other evening or so?”

“Would that work, actually?” Gem helps Comfort dust herself off, and Eleven resumes leading the way. Of course, not before two Elevens jump on Comfort’s back and sit down, observing the area like two automatic turrets on an Imperial dreadnought. Comfort just sights as she realizes that from her former glory of the hive’s best of the best, she’s been relegated to a taxi.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try. Anything is better than trying to teleport. Wish I had someone to ask about this, really.”

“What about Scream?” Gem tilts her head. The alicorn of Lust, and the… owner, manager, or however it works with the succubi should know.

“I think she’s… gone. Her place is deserted, and I haven’t seen her since we got her the Silversmith blueprints. I’ve been busy with the summonings and everything. Time sure flies when you’re a demon. Literally. I’m pretty sure that sometimes when I get summoned, it’s retroactive.”

“Umm, what?”

“I mean that I probably had weird, demonic, tentacle sex with someone yesterday and I’ll get the summons in two weeks of my time. Kinda hard to schedule stuff like that.”

“Can’t you, I don’t know, refuse a summoning?” Gem instantly finds a hole in Comfort’s explanation, “Every succubus summoning ritual can’t be successful, right? I’ve read some books from the Canterlot castle library’s secret section.”

“Then you PROBABLY KNOW MORE THAN I DO!” snaps Comfort without any real anger aimed at Gem, rather with a lot of annoyance at her situation, “Wait, how did you get to the castle library? Isn’t that place guarded?”

“Diplomatic envoy privileges,” Gem smirks.

“What do you mean? Whose diplomatic envoy? Boss’?” Comfort’s scrutinizing stare proves too much for her ex-pupil.

“Fiiiine, hypnotic eyes privileges. Happy?” Gem admits defeat.

“Now thaaat’s the changeling way,” Comfort ruffles Gem’s mane.

“Still, the diplomatic part could be true soon.”

“Hmmm?”

Gem taps her backpack.

“I’ve got something for dad. Top secret, straight from Canterlot. He’ll either love it, or be scared witless. I assume a bit of both.”

“Tell me,” says Comfort.

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

“Tell me!” repeats Comfort, poking Gem in the side.

“I said no. You just have to wait.”

“BY THE POWER OF AZALGABOTH, MY AUTHORITY AS YOUR TEACHER, AND BY MY PROMISE TO BE AS ANNOYING AS I CAN BE IF YOU DON’T TELL ME, I ORDER YOU TO TELL ME RIGHT NOW!” Comfort’s voice booms through the snowy plains, making the Eleven’s on her back cover their ears.

“As much as I owe to you teaching me, still no.” Gem doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, “And who is Azalgaboth?”

“Fuck do I know?” Comfort huffs, “Fine, I’ll wait. Stupid… everyone gets powerful… then no one listens to their elders… total anarchy… Chrysalis would never put up with this...” she keeps grumbling, “Can’t even bite anyone… would have to explain...”

“If it helps, I promise you’ll like it,” Gem gives Comfort a friendly smile, “It’ll be a chance for you to parade yourself around, and mess with the heads of… mostly everyone really, in moderation.”

“Oooh! Are we going somewhere, or is someone visiting?”

“Yep.”

“Yep to which one?”

“Just yep.”

Comfort narrows her eyes, but her further questions are interrupted by the Elevens on her back shifting around and jumping off.

“We’re here,” says Eleven, and all his bodies rush towards a pile of boulders next to a pond sticking out of the scenery like a sore hoof. The faint cloud of steam around isn’t helping the inconspicuous aspect of the place. A quick examination by both Comfort and Gem doesn’t reveal anything unusual about the rock formation, and they both look at Eleven who points at the water, “Hoof.”

Comfort pokes the water surface, and raises an eyebrow.

“A hot spring?” she asks.

Gem immediately lowers her hoof in there as well. Two days of walking through the snow did leave a mark even on someone used to taking this trip in much worse weather.

“Ohhhh...” Gem steps into the shallow pond with all fours, knowing she’s going to regret it when she walks out again, but the overall chill melting from her legs up is worth it, “Wait...” she consults her internal map, “We’re right above Brauheim, aren’t we? This is heated by the same vents as the underground spa, right?”

Eleven nods.

“Right above the main plaza. Come,” he shoves his hoof into the water, fumbles around, and a moment later what looked like a solid block of stone moves away, revealing-

“A slide?” Comfort peeks into the smooth tunnel headed down.

“Mhm,” Eleven jumps in, body after body until only one remains, with ten echoes of fading ‘wheeeee!’ behind.

“Three came up with this, didn’t he?” Gem walks up, shaking the steaming water off of her hooves.

“Improved the design. Much more fun. Faster too,” Eleven nods at Comfort still glaring at the dark tunnel.

“I’m going to choke someone for this, and not in the fun way,” Comfort facehoofs, sighs, and jumps in, “Which idiot made this a corkscreeeewwwww…?” her voice fades into the distance, or depth to be more accurate.

“I hesitate to ask, but how do you get up if it’s all smooth enough to slide all the way down?” Gem looks into the blackness herself.

“Another button. Makes stairs,” explains Eleven, “Teach miss Comfort not to call me weird alien abomination...” he adds, grumbling, “Want stairs?”

“You know what?” Gem pats Eleven’s head, “Going blind into a pitch black corkscrew slide? I guess you gotta try everything once in your life. Is it safe for me?” she shows Eleven the glass vials under her robe.

Eleven nods.

“Very soft down. Dwarf airy jello thing. Not wet, not wet. Backpack safe,” he adds when he Gem pouts.

“Very well,” with a shrug, Gem jumps into the tunnel.

Huh, this is much more fun than walking all the way to Rift.

“Wheeeeeeeeeee!” half a minute of slowing down and speeding up later, she lands in something white, warm, and dry which absorbs her impact like the softest cloud. It’s somewhat difficult to gain some grip on anything, but the blob seems to be sloping down, and eventually she flops out on a less soft mattress where Comfort is sitting with an unamused expression, forelegs crossed on her chest.

The final Eleven flops out of the padding short way away from Gem, and with a practiced roll joins the rest of his bodies. Gem pats her chest, and finds all her equipment in one piece.

Then she greets the two dwarven guards armed with heavy flamethrowers raised halfway up.

“Hello, guys. Mind lowering the toasters, please?”

“Gem, Comfort. Friends of boss,” Eleven walks up to the guards who nod and salute.

The square room they landed in is fairly small, barely ten pony lengths on the side, and most of it is filled with the gel padding. It’s well-lit, though, and the square door leading out is made from heavy, riveted metal similar to the design of dwarven floodgates. There are nine round buttons next to the door, and one of the guards pushes them in a long sequence. The door hisses and clicks open.

“New technology? Neat,” Gem whistles.

“Yes, miss,” the guard nods, “A lot of things based on the ruined dark priest enclave got out of testing this year. Electronic locks are one of the designs released for general use.”

As Gem walks out, Comfort stares the two guards up and down, and taps on one’s foreleg-attached flamethrower.

“Those wouldn’t work anyway.”

Outside, Gem’s eyes go wide as she finally sees where the group are. She had no idea her guess was this accurate, especially when this place wasn’t here during her last visit.

The gargantuan cavern hosting Brauheim castle plaza as well as the castle itself spreads out under them as they stand on a long staircase with security railing on one side winding along the side of the cavern down into the city.

“I’m not walking,” says Comfort, spreading her wings. Gem joins her, much to the disappointment of wingless Elevens, “Does boss know we’re here?”

“I sure do. Welcome home, Gem. Welcome home, Comfort. I wasn’t expecting both of you,” I say, “Eleven, you’re free to do what you want. Thank you for finding them.”

“Sure thing, boss!” says Eleven. It’s much easier for him to talk via the hive mind.

With that, Elevens smile, and start running down the long stairs while Gem and Comfort fly directly towards the underground castle.

***

“Go go go LEFT!” yells a female changeling, this one without any specific features other than very fit physique proving her to be a warrior. Her order is punctuated by blasts coming from the rifle in her forelegs sending rubber projectiles down a long shooting range.

She’s yelling at a smaller female changeling, one with short, red hair with a braid swinging behind her with her every sharp, jerky movement to the side as she tries to avoid the projectiles aimed at her while switching lanes according to the shooting changeling’s commands.

Five switches to a sniper rifle lying on the table next to her, which Two uses to close another chunk of distance between them before having to duck again. Five blinks, noticing that Two’s gotten closer than she expected, and switches her weapon back to the assault rifle.

The next barrage of projectiles hits Two straight on… and they pass through. Five blinks, and when she opens her eyelids again, Two is rushing forward with all her might.

“Nice mental interference,” yells Five, grabbing two pistols, one with each clawed foreleg, “Right, right!”

Two’s dash turns into her trying to switch two lanes to her left while watching herself from Five’s eyes in attempt to predict where the warrior would be shooting next. Ducking under the expected shot, her prediction fails to match Five’s reflexes, and three rubber bullets hit a different leg each, tripping Two up completely.

Five gives Two time to get up by picking up the assault rifle much slower than she would do otherwise-

-and then rams the butt of the rifle into the empty air above the stone counter separating the shooters from the long lanes.

Suddenly appearing Two drops like a rock behind the counter, clutching her muzzle.

“Nice try, but I know you’re much faster and durable. You wouldn’t stay down for so long, and you would have made it to me in the time I gave you by switching to the assault rifle. The illusion you tried to put inside my head was too far away from the truth to believe.”

“Ah, damn...” Two jumps over the short wall out of the shooting range itself, this time without Five doing anything to stop her.

“You could be a great shot-” Five starts, and is immediately stopped by Two’s hoof on her mouth.

“Nope, I’m with my mother on this one. I want to use my own strength to protect the hive, not rely on devices which might fail. No offense, Five. You chose firearms to be your way of defending the hive, and Six is helping you maintain those, and I will focus on infiltrator skills and brawling.”

“I respect your choice, you know that,” Five softly swats Two’s hoof away from her muzzle, “But I believe that the most effective way to serve the hive is the right way and so far our training has proven me right. You’re not One, Two. She’s a changeling able to fuel her physical attributes to monstrous levels, you can’t. There’s no shame in augmenting your chances with some firepower.”

“I’m augmenting my chances with infiltrator skills, which she doesn’t have. If it’s not enough, I’m not good enough. Simple as that,” Two grabs two combat horseshoes from the equipment table, and smacks her hooves together, “Close combat now, or another target practice?”

“As usual. Close combat, than physical exercises,” Five hops into the lanes of the firing range to gain space. In the area for the shooters, the two fighters wouldn’t be able to maneuver well enough, “Mind if I say something first, Two?”

“What’s with the hesitation, Five? Normally, you’re honest like a stab in the eye.”

Five takes a deep breath.

“You will never be as good as your mother, no matter what you do,” she stares into Two’s eyes whose ears slowly splay back.

“Not by training with you, but when I’m able to fight you then I’ll start training with her and eventually-”

“You do know that I train with her, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You will never be able to fight her on remotely even grounds, no matter what you do. You’re trying to imitate something that is as close to pure antithesis of you as something can be. That’s why you’re failing even against me, and I’m a non-factor compared to her. I know that being able to punch the queen’s face off is your motivation deep down, no matter what you say, but it will never happen like this.”

“What do you know…?” Two growls, now baring her fangs at calm Five.

“I know that you’re an infiltrator with immense potential and secondary brawler talents who is trying to be a brawler first with added infiltrator skills to boost her close combat fighting in order to try to outclass someone who is raw force of melee disintegration.”

Two punches Five who dodges to the side, and swings upwards to catch Two’s chin. Two, however, flickers and appears behind Five, only to-

-catch a double hind leg buck to her chest. Two’s forced backflip lands her with her back on the ground. Five steps by Two’s side, her head hung low.

“We’ve been doing this for nearly two years. You’ve improved immensely, which I admire, so don’t take it personally when I say that this isn’t the best way for you to serve your hive.”

“I will train harder,” Two jumps back on all fours, “I will run myself ragged to grow my storage of love, to be more efficient, faster, stronger, better-”

“And you will still fail. You will outclass me, you might outclass miss Gem, you will outclass Seven with his divine knowledge, but you will never outclass Comfort or the queen.”

“WHY?!”

“Because you aren’t a murderer like them.”

That makes Two freeze, and her jaw drop.

“What? I would kill for the hive.”

“We all would. We all would fight to the death, but unlike for them, slaughter wouldn’t be our first choice. For the queen and Comfort that is. None of us butchered our way through the ranks of the old hive, always sleeping with one eye open in case someone significantly better and more fed would try to eat us. Queen’s desperate strength and ruthlessness are beyond anything we can imagine. If you ever want to fight her just to prove yourself, she will tear you apart without hesitation. You have never faced existential threats to her life which she’s done from the day she was born.”

Two turns away.

“I refuse to believe all this is pointless. All this training, the pain, the growth.”

“It isn’t,” Five nuzzles Two’s nose, “You’re fit, you’re intelligent, you’re powerful. You’re just trying to get up a mountain by filling a rubber ducky with farts and hoping that when you light up the exhaust the fire will send you all the way up. I’m simply suggesting you use proper climbing gear.”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Two taps the top of Five’s head.

“Well, Two, I’m just a dumb warrior. You’re supposed to be the smart one here,” she smiles, “Which, I believe, is the point I’ve been trying to make all along.”

Two sighs, shakes her head, and starts walking towards the wall separating shooter area from the lanes.

“What does it make me if I need you to beat this into my head, huh?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” asks Five, completely ruining the warm moment.

“Well, since this is pointless, I was about to find something that would help me-”

“I didn’t say our training was pointless, quite the opposite, actually,” Five steps between Two and the way to the exit, “Now, you will either get your lazy ass moving and drop and give me fifty, or fight me for the right to leave. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re and infiltrator crossed with a warrior or a warrior with the side of an infiltrator, because either way I’ve got a part of you to punch until it gets better.”

Two smirks, smashing her combat horseshoes together so hard it sends sparks flying around this time.

“Oh it is ON!”

***

“Still nothing?”

The question comes from a bulky changeling drone wearing an ill-fitting helmet and a long beard so fake anyone can see the wires holding it in its place, and with pink runes around his fetlocks and chest. He’s pointing at the Brauheim castle on the opposite side of the grand cavern hosting the main plaza of the dwarven city. From down here, it’s an amazing sight no matter how many times he’s seen it before, like a beautifully lit multi-layered cake cut in half and set against a wall. With guards, long bridge over a deep chasm ending in a magma stream, and tens of places or slots through which the defenders could fire anything with a barrel in a pinch. Alright, it’s a cake a bit on the militaristic side, so what? It’s still a glorious sight.

Three licks his lips. Maybe he could go get a cake later…

The question is clearly aimed at the many times larger queen-type changeling on whose back he’s sitting with enough spare space for a whole group of other drones, and who only sighs.

“I already told you many times, little beard. I can’t remember anything, at least not anything important. It’s the dwarven castle. We live there. I know I’ve been there a long time ago, but that’s all. I have no idea what I did there, it’s just… familiar,” the huge changeling’s long, azure mane sways as she shakes her head, her eyes of the same color narrowed and exhausted.

“You know that you look a lot younger than when Two found you?”

“WHAT?!” the pitch of Cryo’s voice goes so far up it hits its head on the ceiling, which still doesn’t mean much due to her normal tone these days being smooth, low rumbling of a jazz singer.

“Heh,” Three chuckles, “Have you ever heard about shock therapy?”

“Ahhh… shocking and raping,” Cryo smiles, “And pillaging too! Back when we used to fight everyone in the world. Fun centuries. Wait, I- I- I remember something. A- a- a beard. Damn it!” Cryo facehoofs so hard the crack rattles the windows of nearby buildings. Apparently, the impact that would break a house wall doesn’t faze her, “Why is that the only thing I can think of when my mind wanders?!”

“Awww, don’t worry,” Three climbs on top of Cryo’s head, grabbing her jagged horn to keep himself steady, “You might remember something important and you might not. You’re one of us, and that’s all that matters.”

“What? When did I get ear mufflers?” Cryo raises her voice, and Three shifts his hind legs away from the ancient queen’s ears.

“My bad.”

“Ooof, I thought my body started shutting down,” Cryo breathes out, “I’m old, you know? That can happen out of nowhere.”

“Come on,” Three pats her head, “Bad mom is over a town- trousers- thous- and years old, one and three zeroes, and she’s still spry and smart. Remember how she sent the infiltrator to spy on us and you sat on him on accident?”

“Ah yes, the one who groaned ‘Pull me out or just spread the cheeks a bit more and I’ll die happy’?”

“Yeah, like Ten, only he likes princess Celery.”

Cryo smirks.

“Maybe this old bag of chitin still has something left in it,” she resumes slowly walking towards the castle with a bit more spring in her step and a sway of her hips which certainly isn’t lost on many blushing dwarves walking around, the tallest of them reaching barely to Cry’s armored underbelly, “Aside from this epic beard I’ve got. Aw holes… again!”

“My repeated scans don’t indicate any presence of a beard, nor the ability of untransformed changelings to grow one,” says the up until now quiet third member of the small group, a mechanical metal equine of size very similar to Cryo, “I have to assume there must be a deeply important, beard-related, memory buried somewhere in Cryo’s psyche. And if I may offer an opinion, if I still had a biological body the size of this mechanical one and libido, I’d be on that booty like a diamond-tipped power drill.”

“Thanks, Grand-General Obvious,” Cryo furrows her brows, flattered, weirded out, and deeply in thought at the same time, “A grey beard, scary rocks, three swords, and a hole… empty, infinite hole...” she drifts off as her eyes go wider.

The three stand there in silence, or about as much silence as there can be in the middle of a bustling city of dwarves whose favorite passtime is blacksmiting.

“Cryo.exe has stopped working,” comments Stompy.

“I almost had it...” Cryo breathes out quietly, “Something crucial… and it’s all just gone again. Wait, what did I say?” she turns her head in confusion.

“Grey beard, scary rocks, three swords, and a hole,” says Three, “Sounds like a neat title for a book. Or like a set-up for a joke. A grey beard, scary rock, and a sword walk into a hole- wait no, that sounds dumb now that I think about it.”

“Exactly this,” Stompy plays a recording of Cryo thinking aloud and trailing off.

“No, I’ve got nothing...” Cryo frowns after few seconds of further thought, “Nothing but the grey beard. Everything is connected, I just don’t know how or why… or what with.”

“Aww, it probably doesn’t matter,” Three hugs her head from the top, “If you can’t recall old memories, you can just make new ones. You’ve got a hive, a home, everything a growing changeling needs.”

Cryo raises an eyebrow, examining her comparatively oversized hoof, comparatively to everything around other than Stompy.

“I’m not sure if I want to grow anymore. I’m already scratching the ceilings of some streets with my horn.”

“Airborne anomaly detected,” Stompy announces, looking up, “It looks like Comfort and Gem headed towards the castle.”

“Yayyy!” Three exclaims, “Let’s go greet them.”

***

I blink away sweat. Why am I sweating? How am I sweating? Chitin doesn’t have sweat glands.

“This is so horribly inefficient!” I complain as I focus love into my horn, and send another beam of green light against the rough wall of the cavern, which disintegrates the solid rock and slowly carves out a semblance of a tunnel mouth.

“We’ve been over this,” Seven, sitting nearby and gasping for breath, rolls his eyes.

“I know, I just want to complain!” I punch the wall, and cleave out a chunk with one hundredth of expended energy in comparison to the beam, “That’s like One screaming when she does push-ups. She isn’t really using the sound waves to help push herself upwards. Or like whenever you grumble that physical labor isn’t meant for infiltrators.”

“Break over?” Seven stands back up, swaying slightly.

“Break over,” I nod, and focus.

Seven’s hooves glow green, and he uses a flow of instructions from my hive link in order to start digging the bottom part of the tunnel ahead while I send another drilling beam from my horn.

You see, I needed to improve my ability to gather and focus energy outside of myself while Seven had huge holes in working with his body, but the best knowledge of using magic out of everyone I know. So, we had this idea to use each other’s experience to practice, which is why I’m currently digging a tunnel using concentrated beam of love instead of my hooves which would be hundred times faster, and why he’s doing the exact opposite. Focusing on one thing is great, but the best way to avoid plateaus is by getting out of one’s comfort zone, as Gem always says. I’d have given up months ago if it wasn’t so obviously working…

My eyes roll backwards, and when I blink a short moment later I find myself lying on the ground with Seven giving his cracked hooves a sad stare.

“I think my leg will break off if I go for another round,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, same goes for my horn,” I admit through the onset of a splitting headache, “Why do we do this to ourselves again?”

“To improve your focus, energy efficiency, and capacity,” Seven stands up and hisses when a twinge of pain that even I can feel rushes through his forelegs, “And to show Five that I’M NOT A SPINDLY NERD WHO GETS MUSCLE CRAMPS BY EVEN THINKING ABOUT MANUAL LABOR! And to look better without a transformation because you won’t let me use one to gather love and you still want me to do it without magic for no hole-damn reason,” he frowns.

“Oh shush,” I smirk, “You’re scaring the drones.”

This is where we get to the elephant in the room, or the thirteen drones, two infiltrators, and five warriors around in the cavern. Eight- I mean One has been badgering me about finally making a real hive for ourselves, which is something I agreed with. Don’t get me wrong, the dwarf castle is nice, but there’s just something about the good, old, black walls, green, bioluminescent crystals around, and all the fun of a proper hive. Of course, I would be a pretty bad ex-drone if I didn’t have my own ideas about improving on the age-old design of ‘if drones die while digging, we use their ground up chitin as wallpaper and keep going’ coupled with ‘if you can walk through without slipping and stabbing yourself on the nearest stalagmite, the tunnel is finished’. That part was okay with me, and that’s why the drones are smoothing out the cavern walls, and why the main connecting tunnel is a smooth square instead of the classic changeling rough hole. Also why the crystals made of green goo are on the walls in even intervals, and those aren’t only bioluminescent but also with added electric lights the batteries of which work off of the chemical reaction caused by us emanating love and refueling the goo crystals. Six and Seven have been hard at work along with the dwarven engineers interested in trying something new. Dwarves were actually trying to help with the digging a lot, an unhealthy lot in few cases. I’m all for opinions, but backseat digging? Big nope.

Fine… I will explain the new changelings. The idea of a proper hive under Brauheim was grand, as I admitted, but One insisted on me not being the one to dig the whole thing with Six and Three, but rather on us being in charge of someone else doing most of the work like a changeling ruler should. In short, we were good on love, so it was proper to make few more of us. I stopped it at twenty. We don’t want the Chrysalis situation to repeat.

I swear, she just loves being stuffed with so many eggs at once that she can barely wobble.

Oh right, and since she’s now rank One, she said she wanted to learn to be in charge more and do other things than punching whatever I point at, which is why we installed a target dummy made of bedrock into the council room after her first practice negotiation with Steelback and Granite in which she basically sold all of Brauheim’s steel stocks by accident. Not all of us are good at math, but we’re trying.

And I think that sums it up the best - we’re trying. Trying to get better at what we know, trying new things, simply trying to understand more than the little piece of the world we’ve seen until today. There are bumps on the way, but we’re together, and we have friends who help us when we need it. Now that is something I’m proud of, something which would be unthinkable in Chrysalis’ hive. Last time Gem visited, she said things were getting better for changelings under Chrysalis as well, but it’s hard to turn centuries of mistrust and fear around, I understand that. Progress takes time, and even for us it’s been barely two years since we took our place among the dwarves.

Now, a changeling from Chrysalis’ hive would ask why I have both warriors and infiltrators digging tunnels alongside drones. It’s not about lack of resources or time pressure, but about experience. The ‘higher’ classes of changelings need to know how difficult the work that drones do is, even though it’s quite often straightforward, and by hole they did learn fast when they didn’t recognize a spreading crack which would have caused a collapse of the tunnel they were in if left ungooped. In the same way, drones as well as infiltrators do physical and coordination exercises led by warriors, and infiltrators lead excursions between ponies for drones and warriors. Of course, they all have their natural strengths and weaknesses, but well-rounded experience could help them figure out a way to improve others would miss.

However, all philosophy and self-reflection questions are pushed aside when two hive links light up in my head, two I’ve been feeling way too rarely these days.

“Everyone, Gem and Comfy will be in Brauheim within an hour. Who wants to hear new stories from the surface?” I ask, and almost all work stops instantly, with few drones taking a second to process the information. Twenty pairs of eyes plus Seven look at me, “Anything that needs finishing so that some tunnel doesn’t drop on our heads later?”

The changelings shake their heads. Alright, they aren’t too much on the individualistic side yet, but they’re doing their best.

“Let’s go then.”

***

“And this is the average monthly production of steel ingots without reserves for ritualistic purposes, city security, and planned projects. The number we can pretty much safely trade off. The question is, do we want to do so under current surface circumstances?” asks a heavily built, grey dwarf pony with dim, orange beard wearing a dark violet jacket reinforced with steel scales.

“I… umm… there’s no security risk to selling this off, right? So yes, I would trade it for...” a much bigger, wine-red maned, muscular, and nervous to her long teeth, changeling ruffles the stack of papers lying on a smooth round table in front of her until she finds a document she’s looking for, “For this! The price minotaurs are offering for the leather hides is great for us, and you dwarves use those to make linings for plate armors.”

“Are you sure?” asks a chocolate-brown minotaur standing next to One on the opposite side from Granite, smirk growing on his face.

“You will not faze me anymore, Steelback! I’m immune to your mind tricks,” One glares up at him, “Yes, that’s my final word.”

Granite sighs.

“Did you read the offer right?” he asks.

“Come on! What did I miss this time?” One frowns at each of her teachers in succession.

Granite taps his hoof against the document One was so sure about a second ago.

“The minotaur offer is untreated leather. If you went with that trade deal, you would have given up non-perishable materials for perishable ones. Leather needs to be treated with chemicals so that it lasts, so we would have to do that ourselves, which means using our resources and our horsepower.”

One takes a long breath in, then out, and then says:

“Give me a second, will you?”

She stands up from the table, walks over to the bust of a pony made of bedrock screwed to a smooth pedestal in the corner of a room. Despite bedrock being the strongest building material the dwarves know and shaping it being exceedingly difficult, the pony bust looks rather battered.

Another breath in, then-

“FUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!”

With a roar that makes the other two cover their ears, One uppercuts the bust so hard it rips off along with the screws from the marble pedestal and buries itself itself in the ceiling.

She looks up, and sighs. At least the guards didn’t barge in this time, which can also mean they are getting used to her screwing up and needing a stress outlet. The original punching bag filled with ground granite(the material, not the dwarf) didn’t last even three sessions,

“Can’t I really just threaten them to stop splitting words or I’ll unscrew the heads of their whole diplomatic team, really?” a hint of desperation enters One’s voice.

At this point, both Granite and Steelback are used to this, and know they don’t have to tread lightly around One, or the queen as some changelings and most dwarves call her.

“The treaties aren’t just for you, queen,” Granite sorts the documents on the table which One messed up during their session again, “You won’t be making the purchases and trades, someone else will. Maybe someone who has never even met you. Someone who will have only the copies of the signed documents to go on. And even if you found out after the first shipment that you didn’t get what you wanted then what?”

“Facepunch?” One returns to a familiar territory.

“Whom?” Steelback asks, knowing where this is going.

“The responsible party?” One keeps going, “That way no one will screw this up again next time?”

“But you signed the deals,” Granite presses on, “They would have just done what you ordered them to.”

“But they wouldn’t have done what I wanted them to!”

Before either Granite or Steelback can say anything else, One raises her hoof and hangs her head low which ends any further chance of argument.

“Tell me, honestly, both of you,” she says, “Should I just stick to obeying orders and punching monsters in the face? I want your honest opinion, no diplomatic bullshit. Boss has infiltrators who will learn all this stuff in tenth of the time it took me to figure out one deal and mess even that one up.”

They’ve been here before. For Steelback and Granite, negotiating and trading is second nature by now. However, they are both intelligent enough to know what led to this point in their lives. Steelback speaks up first:

“Queen, One… I spent most of my life hunting wolves for pelts and spearing predators threatening my clan. When Dark Prophet united the clans and forced us into founding Rift, he brought teachers from the south. We didn’t know anything about industry or the value of what lies under these mountains. The teachers, average, good, or even bad returned home with gold we learned to mine first because we couldn’t tell the difference between them. We had our wisdom, our instincts for truth, and Dark Prophet. Dark Prophet whom I’ve learned that you brought us, queen. It took time for us to learn, and it will take you time. You might never be some silver-tongued orator, but you have values which count for just as much under the right circumstance - honesty, straightforwardness, and fairness. No one wants to make a deal with a liar more than once, and a trading partner who isn’t overly greedy is a blessing for both sides. In short, no, I don’t want you to stop learning. Yes, you have a long road ahead, and I’m one hundred percent certain that when your changelings eventually start producing something in the hive you’re building and want to trade, Granite here will take you to the cleaners with the first treaty, but he won’t ruin you. After all, you can’t do more business with someone you’ve destroyed, and you can’t do all the mining and crafting yourselves.”

“Wise words,” Granite nods, “Queen, I suggest you start taking at least one interested changeling with you on these sessions. Diplomats don’t do all their work alone, even Steelback discusses the draft offers back home before every step, and you know I go over those with the rest of the council.”

“That’s just so much to remember… how much of everything we’ve got, how much we can spare, what’s going on around that can change the numbers,” One slumps into her chair, “I feel stupid just imagining it. When I’ve got the papers in front of me it’s even worse.”

“Then let me ask you this, queen,” Granite looks One in the eyes, “Do you want to tell the king that you quit? This was all your idea.”

“That was before I knew how bad I would be at it! I’ve never been this useless at anything.”

“And what did you really do before coming to Brauheim?” Granite smirks, knowing the answer.

“I punched whom whoever was in charge pointed me at...” admits One.

“You can’t punch the whole world,” the corners Steelback’s mouth curl up.

“Try me!” One give the air the good old one-two punch and joins the two in a quick laugh, her mood a tiny bit better now.

The door clicks open, and only now One realizes that she’s been feeling new links for a while, but was too busy with the practice diplomacy session to notice. She almost jumps, and rushes towards the entrance.

“Gem, Comfort!” she pulls the two entering changelings into a bear hug, then gives both a kiss. On the lips, of course. We are no prudes. A creepy gesture anywhere else, but among changelings, sharing love like that counts for a lot. Every Eleven, not wanting to be left out, hugs the nearest changeling bit they can find, “Welcome back!”

“You really need to get out more,” Comfort licks One’s nose, “The look you gave me was the same you can see on old, lonely mares who just got their twenty-first cat.”

“Hey, I was out on the surface last-” One stops, “Oh holes...”

“Well, that’s something I can help with,“ Gem walks to the council table, “Nice to see you again, mister Granite, mister Steelback,” she nods to them, “Is dad around?”

“Welcome back, miss Gem. The king is down in the hive,” Granite starts packing the old trade reports One has been practicing with.

“We’ll be there in few minutes,” I answer through the hive mind, “Seven and everyone else are eager to hear what’s new on the surface. Unless it’s some horrible war. It isn’t some horrible war, is it?” I add.

“It isn’t, as far as I know. Though it will be a new territory for all of us in a sense,” she doesn’t exactly explain anything.

“We can give you privacy if you want,” offers Granite, but Steelback’s hand on his neck makes him look up at the minotaur.

“I think I know what this is about,” he says, “Warlord Darkhorn was getting everything ready in Rift for his absence as well.”

Gem smiles and nods at him.

“What absence?” asks One, “Is he stepping down or something? Do I have to learn the history and habits of a new minotaur leader to gain a diplomatic advantage?” she facehoofs, “Please, someone kill me.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Comfort laughs like a true villain, “And then the rank of One will be rightfully mine again, mwahahahahahaaaa!”

“Come on, you enjoy being a succubus too much to just sit around here,” Gem comments, unpacking some heavily sealed and secured square case and putting it on the table.

“But those don’t have a ranking system!” pouts Comfort, “How can I slap someone in the face with my rank when I don’t have any? Huh, HUH?”

“You’ll figure something out,” mumbles Gem, now focusing on unlocking the case crafted to likely withstand being thrown into a volcano. We can try that down here, actually. We’ve got magma out of the… everywhere, really, “Ah, hah!” she finally levitates a scroll, and breaks a wax seal with a… symbol of the sun?

Uhhh…

Now slightly on edge, I enter the room as the two guards outside salute me, Seven, and the twenty fresh members of our hive. Distant stomping shows that Cryo and Three are almost here as well, and a quick scan shows everyone else is already inside the castle too.

“Heya, dad!” Gem waves at me, “Hi, everyone!”

Few drones blush and look away, one brave warrior waves back at Gem, and the others mutter variously loud ‘Hello, miss’. I’m not bothered, changelings naturally sense power difference, and their inborn instinct is to be very suspicious of their superiors. We’ve managed to put them at ease with everyone they see regularly, but Gem, Comfort, and occasionally Ten still make them shy and nervous.

“So what’s this all about?” I ask. Can’t look on edge in front of the newbies, “Or do we wait for everyone first?”

“They’re listening in already anyway,” Comfort taps her temple, and looks at Gem, “Get on with it, since you’ve been so mysterious all the way here.”

“Ahem!” Gem clears her throat and unrolls the scroll, “To your Majesty, recognized as the king of the northern changeling hive. Princesses Celestia and Luna hereby cordially invite you and any representatives of your kingdom or faction to the regular diplomatic summit of world leaders in Canterlot. ”

Me? Canterlot? Without disguise? As one of the world leaders? Equal to Darkhorn, Luna, Celestia, the griffon head KFC… or Chrysalis?

Oh holes, oh holes, oh holes, oh holes...

Why is everything spinni-

*Thud!*

“Wait, all that secrecy was just for that boring thing? Ugh...” Comfort rolls her eyes, “I thought it would be something fun.”

I groan, currently being grabbed by One’s hooves in an attempt to get me up. Okay, the many tiny hooves of Eleven trying to help mostly just tickle.

“What do you mean?” asks Gem, her voice currently coming from above me.

“You’re forgetting I was on the first one after Chrysalis accepted the peace treaty,” Comfort shrugs, “and at the time everyone from griffons to zebras, as well as even the public opinion of ponies wanted us dead. The best opportunity for some action, and all the two weeks amounted to was a ton of toothless bickering about borders, resource trade, and migration. Boooriiiing!”

Alright, I can survive boring, right? We don’t have anything to trade, really, so maybe they’ll all just be ‘Hey, another group of changelings up north away from everywhere. Next point on the agenda?’.

I sit up, and breathe out.

“Granite, can I ask you a favor?”

“I’m not coming with you, boss,” the dwarf preempts my question, “In fact, I have something to ask of you.”

“Okay, let’s prioritize here,” I manage to stand up on my still slightly shaky fours, “First - yes, we’re going. We’ll figure out who is coming later. I suppose I can’t bring everyone, right?”

“Actually,” Comfort tilts her head, counting, “Considering the retinues all the rulers brought last time, thirty changelings would be on the sizable side, but nothing unusual. Griffons usually bring whole kitchens and caravans with meat. That’s hard to get in Equestria.”

“Still, it would be unnecessary and maybe even unwise,” Steelback butts in, “It gives the impression that you’re a pompous ass who needs to thirty nannies to take care of them. I think I know you well enough by now to realize that you want this to be more a learning tourist trip for the newbies than anything else, but others wouldn’t, and the first impression can be crucial.”

“So, if I have to leave the new chitin here-”

“Then you’ll need bodyguards, experienced infiltrators, and someone to keep an eye on things down here,” Five enters the room followed by Two, Cryo, Three, Six, and Seven.

“Exactly, but we’ll leave that for part three,” I nod, “Part two, what did you want from me, Granite? The favor thing.”

The dwarf scratches his head. It’s unusual to see him genuinely nervous.

“We… I mean dwarves… have never held any interest in the dealings of the upper world, and secrecy is one tradition I would like to keep. We trade only with the minotaurs, and even then we use dead drops or few trusted contacts. I realize that you are still our king as well as the ruler of your hive, so I can’t ask you anything without the council approval first, but I wouldn’t want this to be our political confrontation. I have to ask you to keep the secret of our existence to yourself, and leave any unique dwarf-made items and technology here. The obvious subjects are the queen’s sword, our ancestors’ helmet, Stompy, or miss Five’s firearms, but I don’t know everything you’re using in your daily life here. I am aware that you’ve had those with you on your occasional trips to the Crystal Empire, but on this ‘ leader summit’ you will be under heavy scrutiny from everyone.”

“No biggie!” Three hops off of Cryo’s back, and puts both his helmet and the fake beard on the council table, “Here, I’m Three the dwarf, but up there I will be… hmmm… tell me when we’re leaving!” he shoots out of the room.

I shrug. At least someone will be prepared for the summit, though I’m not sure how.

“Hey, considering that the crazy griffon guard found us even here while looking for this,” One pats the Sword of the First Emperor sheathed next to her chair, “Promenading myself near the real current Emperor with it doesn’t seem like a smart plan. Oh yes, and I’m coming with you, so no getting clever ideas about leaving me in charge here.”

“Yeah, same here,” Comfort waves her hoof dismissively, “Because there’s no guarantee I won’t be summoned in the next few minutes, unable to return for however long.”

“Alright, Granite, we’ll leave any specific things or technology here,” I promise.

“But muh gunz...” whines Five.

“Will still be in your hooves, because you’re staying here,” I look straight at her.

“What? Why? I was just kidding!” she leans backwards as if struck, “I can protect you even without those, boss.”

I raise my hoof, and she shuts up instantly.

“Which brings us to point three. You will stay here, because I need someone to keep an eye on the hive and who knows a lot about inner workings of both Brauheim and the hive. You, Six, and Seven will stay as one drone, one warrior, and one infiltrator. Together, you should be able to deal with any unusual situation, and you were in this position before after all when One was in charge of the split city.”

“I didn’t do much of the actual politics and ruling, true,” One shrugs, “Seven is a great choice for this, I agree, and Six is the most social guy out of all of us. Plus, this way they’ll be able to properly oversee the construction of the hive.”

“Granite, they will be attending council meetings like I do,” I order.

“I will inform everyone, boss,” he nods, “If it helps, I doubt there will be anything relevant going on in the next… did you say two weeks?” he looks at Gem who nods, “Treaties are done, expansion projects are running, and we haven’t had a serious public concern in months.”

“We won’t fail you, boss,” Five salutes, though I can still sense that she’s disappointed by my decision.

I make sure the next thing I say through the hive link isn’t heard by anyone.

“Five, if I knew there was someone better suited for this than you, I would tell them to do it, but there isn’t. If I left only Seven, he’d lock himself in the library and starve on accident, and while Six knows the most out of all of you, he doesn’t have your authority. I won’t need any additional protection with One, Two, Gem, and possibly Comfort there. I’ll need infiltrators with a lot of skill, not muscle. Fighting someone would only make things worse, I have no doubts about that. Now gather yourself, temp-queen Five. You’ve got a hive to run.”

“I will do my best, boss,” she answers.

“She won’t,” adds One, only for me to hear. I can’t lock her out of my head anymore, so if she isn’t distracted, she’s basically me. One mind in two bodies and so on, “She will make everyone do their best.”

“Alrighty then, point four. Who’s coming? I won’t force anyone, but I see it like this: One, obviously, Gem and Comfort. Two, I want you around, you’ve got a lot to see and learn. In case Comfort disappears, I’ll need more infiltrators by my side anyway. Three- oh right, he’s gone. Well, he’s already getting ready, so knows he’s coming too. And Eleven… hmmm...”

I face eleven pairs of puppy eyes, if a begging puppy was trained in a mountain monastery led by the puppiest of puppies for fifty years, achieved grandmastery, and then set out on the world. It’s mind-shattering, almost like a staring contest against Three, but what Eleven lacks in quality he wins in quantity.

“Fine, you’re coming too,” I admit defeat and find myself weighed down by bracelets made of live changelings.

Chrysalis and other rulers will eat me alive if I don’t have the willpower to tell eve Eleven no.

I sigh. Ever since Chrysalis found us here two years ago, it’s been eating me inside. I didn’t tell her off, I didn’t say to her face she should shut up in my territory, the home I fought and risked lives of everyone for. I even had a panic attack just thinking about the responsibility of meeting world leaders. I can’t even bring myself to think other world leaders. I’m a king on the surface, but no matter how hard I try to keep it under wraps, I’m a drone deep down, and drones are scared of everyone for good reason.

“No, they aren’t anymore,” One interrupts my train of thought currently hurtling towards a broken bridge, “Not down here, and even those still under Chrysalis a lot less than before. Both are because of what you went through. They will never know what you did. Hole, if Scream’s story about gods is to be believed, EVERYONE is better off and maybe even alive because of you. We faced horrors I doubt more than few can imagine, and you’re still here, still doubting yourself. Though I would have prefered if you had punched Chrysalis in the face with her own ripped off ovipositor, yes.”

She’s right. I may be nervous like I always am, but there is a history of fighting behind me, behind all of us. We will deal with this. It might not end up perfect, but we will deal with this, and it won’t fail horribly. Still, I don’t intend to punch mom- Chrysalis in the face.

“Oh!” I stomp my hoof, “And I want Cryo to come too.”

“Are you crazy?!”
“Hahahahahahahahaha!”
“Ohhh yesss!”
“Interesting, but why?”
“BEARD?!”

You can take a wild guess who said what.

“My reasoning behind it is that Brauheim clearly isn’t working to jog her memory anymore. You tried showing her sights and smells which she could recall, but it failed, but there’s something I remember from the old rulers, something even Cryo knows that happened, and, quite honestly, Canterlot is an amazing sight from the outside, although the last time Cryo was there was to invade it and failed horribly.”

“So, let me get this straight,” the corner of Comfort’s mouth curls up, “You want to jog old Incredibly Senile Hulky’s memory by triggering a PTSD on a level which almost no other living being can even imagine?”

“When you say it like that, it does sound like a bad idea-”

“No, nonono! Just pleeeeeease, if I get called away and am not there to see it on my own, have someone with a camera on standby.”

Okay, Comfort loves it, which is all I need to know this is a HORRIBLE idea!

“Gee, I’ll just knock her out cold if she goes nuts,” One rolls her eyes, “Cryo is coming. Chrysalis missed her when she was here, and I want to see her froth that one of her traitorous generals is still alive.”

“She’s not the only one,” Comfort smirks again, and I just know I’m going to have to zip her mouth shut at some point today, “I heard rumors, and by that I mean that I scoured the minds of Chryssie’s changelings, that someone by the name Shadowstep came back too-”

*CRUNCH!*

Cryo’s eye is twitching, and her foreleg is buried in a fresh crack on the wall.

“...you don’t know when to stop, do you...?” I hiss, advancing at Comfort who looks from side to side for support.

“Uhh, hey, boss, you okay?” she back off, “You’re leaving burning hoofprints again.”

“What’s your endgame with this, Comfort, huh?” I shove her with my hoof, “Why are you just winding Cryo up? To see her blow up? Do you WANT to sabotage this trip for fun?”

“Come on, you’re over-”

“DO YOU?!” I scream at her, and she gasps as her backside hits the wall, “Where do you think this leads? You get a second of fun while we all show ourselves in bad light and Cryo-”

“I will control myself if Chrysalis or Shadowstep happen to be around,” Cryo’s strained but measured voice interrupts me, “You aren’t my idea of a ruler, but times have changed, and I admit it’s for the better. Whatever you were trying to achieve by mentioning that filthy amethyst fanatic failed, if your -what does Two call it?- trolling ever even had any reasoning behind it, succubus.”

Internally, I count to ten, breathe in, and breathe out before turning away from Comfort.

“Cryo is right, you know?” I say, “Scream did the same thing for fun, we were all just a way for her to pass time, but even she had a goal which was for the good of everyone. What you were doing was just trying to hurt someone for your amusement. I don’t care if you’re an immortal demon now or whatever. If you only want to pass time by toying with others without any regard for them… I know you’re better than that. Zero doubt in my mind about that.”

“I...” Comfort faces everyone’s angry glares and my less piercing but no less angry buttcrack, “I’m kinda regretting I can’t just unsummon myself right now. I can set myself on fire, if it helps. It doesn’t hurt me, but it’s a neat light show if we switch off the lamps.”

“Come on, Comfort, what’s the real problem?”

“Eternity is terrifying, boss...” her link closes, and I realize that she knows that I know that I have nothing relevant to say to something like that. For hole’s sake, I’m less than eight years old while she’s over four hundred.

I come to an executive decision.

“Okay, we’ve got better things to do than group lynching,” I say, “And I still don’t know the most important thing. When is the summit, Gem?”

“It starts in four days,” she rolls the scroll back up, “I was expecting to arrive tomorrow. If we don’t rush, we should be in the Crystal Empire tomorrow evening, take the overnight express to Canterlot, report to the castle to sign all the necessary paperwork, and still have a day to see the city before the summit starts.”

“By the way, are you going to Canterlot too, Steelback?” I ask the minotaur who shakes his head.

“Darkhorn has more knowledgeable minotaurs for this position. I’m a specialist on dwarven affairs, as much as a non-dwarf can be,” he chuckles, exchanging glances with Granite.

“Then it’s settled. Say goodbyes to everyone you want to, and we’ll meet at the fountain in the castle plaza in two hours.”

Everyone leaves, even Steelback and Granite, and I’m left alone in the council room, trying to stop my brain from imagining the worst possible scenarios starting with the one that this is all a trap and there will be paladins waiting for us at the train platform.

To my surprise, before long the door to the silent council room opens once again. A mossy green face rimmed with long, brown-mane belonging to Black Soil appears, followed by the rest of the chubby mare responsible for communication between the council and social services. Other than Granite and Iron Rose, she’s spent the most time with me, always stopping for a quick chat. During her last visit, Comfort said Black Soil wanted the changeling D really bad. I didn’t act on it, but I did allow Black Soil to get a little more physical and huggy from time to time. One seemed to be alright with that as much as I am okay with her stuffing Battlecry. And yes, I’m using that expression literally.

“Your Majesty? I heard you were leaving,” she approaches me, and climbs on the council table to be able to be face to face, “And a little bug told me you were extremely nervous about it.”

“Before this, all I did was fight or tell someone else what to do and believed they would do it well, because I believed they could do what I needed them to. Now… what I do could threaten everyone, and not even just my changelings, but also Chrysalis’ hive. I’m under no illusion that ponies and others will see the difference between our hives. Or even you! Someone looking for us might send spies into Brauheim like Chrysalis did, and your city could be revealed. Don’t worry, we caught that changeling and sent him home after a delicate mind rinse.”

She sits down in front of me and spreads her legs, showing her swollen, cushiony teats.

“Look, I-”

“Shhh,” she grabs my head, and slowly pulls it to her belly where she lets me rest like on a pillow, stroking my mane, “You know that the queen is doubtlessly getting one last quickie with Battlecry, right?”

“Mhm,” I mumble into her soft, hot flesh, “I’m not one for that, even though I can sense the lust practically steaming from you.”

“Then just rest and relax,” she presses me tighter against herself, “Though my reputation as a top-tier MILF just got a proper smackdown. I’ll get you one day while I’m still hot, though.”

“You know what? When I come back, I’ll talk it over with One,” I mumble.

“Do you think I’d be doing this if I hadn’t talked to her already? I don’t intend to become a new decoration inside your hive,” she chuckles, “Yet.”

We sit there in the rather charged silence, but she doesn’t try anything. In fact, I am the one who wraps his forelegs around her backside to stop sliding down her lower belly.

“I noticed most of your changeling mares are either slender or muscular, yet I can’t shake off the feeling that you like my type a little more. Not fat, but squishy in the right places,” she wraps her hind legs under my forelegs.

“It’s just how we are. Warriors are strong, untransformed infiltrators don’t need much mass, and drones are more bulky for the digging. When we transform, we do change into something others would like most of the time.”

“Do you ask the queen to grow some more cushion sometimes?”

“I don’t,” my eyes are completely closed now, “She tries new shapes often, but it doesn’t matter to me. She’s herself, she’s strong, dominant, and rough, and no amount of plush, different equipment, or more alien transformation will change how much I love her. I admit that strong yet round is a shape I like to look at the most.”

“Imagining someone like that right now?”

“Mhm.”

“Who is it? The queen?”

“Mhm, with some changes. A little softer belly and bigger breasts.”

“Like mine?”

“Mhm.”

“Feeling better now, your Majesty?”

I breathe out slowly.

“Yes, I am. Thank you.”

“Any time. I wasn’t sure if it would work on you, but I guess even you buggies like breasts despite laying eggs. Or maybe it’s just my warmth and soft voice.”

“We used to be ponies a long, long time ago.”

“He he, there you have it. We can stay like this as long as you want, although you know I could go for a lot more.”

“I’ve got time before we have to go.”

“Then rest, relax, think of me, my warmth, my softness, the lust you can feel, everything that makes you comfortable. Don’t worry about the future now, there will be enough of that later, I bet.”

Aaand I’m out like a light. Someone will wake me up in time, I know.

***

Not too far away, and not too much later, Two and Topaz enter Crumble’s house, much to the surprise and pleasure of the mare.

“Hi, mom!” Two hugs Crumble.

“Come in, come in!” she ushers them inside, “I wasn’t expecting you tonight, but I wasn’t planning on going out anyway. I’ll fix something up for dinner.”

“Hello, umm, well, mom...” Topaz scratches his head, looking everywhere but at the dwarf mare.

“Now now, we went over this last time. You’ve been dating my daughter long enough to call me mom,” Crumble pats Topaz’s back.

“Well yeah, but… you’re ten years older than I am, that’s the weird part. Fifteen tops. I should call you sister more like,” Topaz looks away when Crumble gives him an over the shoulder glare.

“No, you really shouldn’t do that if you want to keep dating Two, because otherwise I would have to get technical as well and call you a pedophile, because she’s two years old, you know?”

“But that’s exactly what I’m getting at,” Topaz keeps driving his train of thought straight into a tunnel which is only a painted picture on the side of a thick wall, “She’s a changeling. Two years is absolutely fine for them, but we’re dwarves. We live for two centuries, so ten-year difference means squat.”

“Now listen to me, ‘sonny’,” Crumble disappears into the kitchen, but her voice is loud and clear, “I’m Two’s mom, and I know that changelings don’t have a concept of marriage and stuff, but I know the king and the queen personally, and they sure do get the partnership that can last a lifetime, so as long as you and Two are together, I’m ‘mom’ for you, got it?”

“Yes, mom...” Topaz capitulates, much to Two’s muffled chuckling.

“And don’t think I don’t hear that, young lady!” Crumble adds, which fails completely as Two starts openly laughing.

She pushes a hoof against Topaz’s chest, and says just loud enough so that Crumble would hear her:

“Wanna go to the bedroom and make me call you ‘daddy’ one last time before I have to leave?”

In the kitchen, Crumble starts choking and they hear a pan drop on the floor, followed by loud cursing.

Two winks at Topaz, whispering:

“I’ve got your back, Toppy,” in a normal volume, she adds, ”Let’s sit down and have a nice, family dinner.”

“Hey, I’m fine with everything as long as you don’t make me a real daddy anytime soon. I’m not ready,” Topaz pulls out a chair for Two at the living room table.

“Did I hear grandfoals?!” Crumble’s head peeks out of the kitchen, eyes practically sparkling. Topaz blushes instantly.

“Nope,” Two shakes her head, “Dad said he had enough trouble managing the twenty new changelings already.”

“Weeelllll,” Crumble mused thoughtfully, “A little bug told me you can choose whether the foal will be a pony or a changeling, so… wink wink, you know?”

“Those are some biological oddities I haven’t really explored yet, so I can’t do that,” Two shoots the idea down, “Besides, I’ve got my hooves full with trying to help Cryo remember, pushing my limits with Five, and escorting Three and Six as we explore more and more of the underground. The tunnel network here is insane.”

“Supposedly, the ancestors did have bases all over, or under, the world,” Topaz shrugs, “So the tunnels could spread everywhere, really. Too bad you haven’t found any other base yet. It would be nice to know more of our history.”

Two stays quiet on this one. The dwarven council decided that spreading the truth that dwarves are ancestors of Silversmith prisoners who were sentenced to life for not uploading their minds into combat machines for the great war against the Twisted wouldn’t be the best idea, so right now only the changelings and few select dwarves know.

“What’s important is right now,” she decides to say in the end, “and-”

“And right now it’s dinner time!” Crumble walks up with two plates and a bottle on a tray fastened to her neck with a strap, and puts the meals on the table for herself and Topaz, and the bottle for Two who opens it and takes a sip.

“Dinner and ammo at the same time,” Two smacks her lips, “I love this city. Flame spider venom whiskey… twenty years old, give or take?”

“Nah, just twelve,” Crumble shakes her head, “but I got it from a friend who knows her moonshine, none of that mass produced stuff, that’s why it tastes so good.”

Two pours a glass of the alcohol for Topaz and Crumble, and soon, the family conversation gets flowing.

***

The sauna of Brauheim central spa is empty, which puts a relieved smile on the face of the entering mare who tosses a towel on a rack by the door, and lies down on the hot wood. Not that she was ashamed of her body or anything. In fact, she looked absolutely stunning, being likely the perfect blend of muscles and padding a non-changeling could achieve. Coupled with her small stature, it was no wonder that the queen called Battlecry her pocket flesh-

Battlecry shakes her head. She’s been out of her armor for not even ten minutes and her head’s already in the gutter. Granted, she was busy these days, having to personally oversee and prepare training regimen all five new changeling warriors with various weapons, distinct physical exercises specific to changelings, and study their biology with the queen. Granted, the last part was very hooves-on experience, and exceedingly pleasant.

Speak of the devil, One enters the sauna, walking straight towards Battlecry and plopping her perfect plot by the dwarf’s head.

“Your Majesty, what can I do for you?” asks Battlecry lazily. There can be only one reason why One is here, and Battlecry is happy to oblige her with some ‘feeding’ despite her exhaustion.

Eleven tiny changelings dash into the sauna right behind One, and look at each other while they acclimate to the heat. The last three jump on each other’s backs to make a pyramid in order to comfortably reach the handle and close the door behind them.

Okay, maybe there can be more reasons. One wouldn’t want to have hot, sweaty, feeding session around Eleven. Battlecry was adamant about their affair being only between them… or the king, of course, but he has never joined.

Oh well, maybe one day. Not that One wasn’t more than a satisfying partner.

“Nothing, really,” One leans over Battlecry lying on her back, and licks her nose, “We’ll be leaving for some royal summit in Equestria in few hours, and Eleven is coming too. I thought it would be a good idea to say bye to his mom, hmm?”

Battlecry chuckles as two Elevens jump on the bench and lie down on her foreleg each. Others follow until she finds herself under a hugging and nuzzling pile of chitin.

“He’s been learning his moves from Three, hasn’t he?” she chuckles, “I swear, that guy can hug a broken leg away.”

“I know you’re joking about that,” One snorts, “but I’ve seen some shit you wouldn’t believe.”

They sit there in silence for a while.

“So… how long will you be gone for?”

“Two weeks plus the trip.”

“Oh damn,” Battlecry sighs, “Not gonna lie, I’m gonna feel pretty lonely at home.”

“You’ll still be busy. Five, Six, and Seven are staying to keep an eye on the hundreds. And if you want some fun, Five’s open to anything, really. ”

“It just wouldn’t be the same,” Battlecry frees her foreleg from under Elevens, and reaches behind her to wrap it around One’s plot, “Oh well, absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say.”

“Not sure if the heart is the part of you that would miss me the most,” One teasingly licks the underside of Battlecry’s free hoof.

“True,” the mare admits, “but I really do like you for more than… well… what you do to me. Not gonna point out the specific details in front of Eleven,” she sighs, “I’m so happy the king doesn’t mind us being like this.”

“Right now, he’s sleeping while drooling on Black Soil’s tits, so he’s not in a position to complain even if he was the type to do so,” One smirks, “I really need to tell him he should just stuff her properly when we get back. She’s got a rocking body. Not like you, but tempting in a completely different way. He could squeeze a lot of love and lust out of her.”

“Black Soil… ohhh, the hippy mare from the council? Lucky guy. I said it before and I’ll say it again, the way you changelings view relationships is weird, and I’m happy about that.”

“Hey, for most of our history, monogamy would be a suicide,” One shrugs, “We take resources where we can get them. Things are different right now, but who knows how long this will last? Boss has the right idea in not making too many more changelings, although we needed some.”

“You know that if you dig deep inside me, you’ll always find something,” Battlecry’s hoof wrapped around One squeezes the soft booty chitin.

“Hmm, weren’t you the one who didn’t want to talk about that too explicitly in front of Eleven?”

“Well, maybe we can send foals outside to play and-” Battlecry sighs when she opens her eyes and sees that most of the Elevens on her are asleep, their soft breath tickling various occupied parts of her, “Oh nevermind.”

“Let’s just stay like this for a while,” One inches closer to the dwarf.

“I love you, my queen.”

“Trust me, I know,” One smiles, and takes one Eleven into her lap who blinks, yawns, and falls asleep again, “And Eleven knows too.”

***

With everyone’s last-minute business sorted, energy reserves replenished, and final orders received, we group up by the fountain in the center of the castle plaza. Dwarves are rushing around as the night life of Brauheim is starting.

Hold up, what’s that?

Three looks as if someone dropped him head-first into a cotton candy machine, and is riding a spider that’s on fire. Did someone mix something illegal into the love I absorbed from Black Soil?

“I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!” Cryo reverts into the panic mode.

“Agreed. Number one, why are you riding an adult flame spider and not being eaten?” Two asks as soon as Three stops in front of us, “No, scratch that. Why isn’t it trying to eat anyone here?”

“That’s Clicky,” Three pats the spider’s head, and it clicks its mandibles in response, “I met him near a steam geyser when Six and I helped the dwarves uncover the cave-in that damaged the power plant. I’ve been feeding him the blank eggs miss One’s been stuffing miss Battlecry with. Those, and the protein mushrooms the dwarves grow. He likes them a lot, and he doesn’t even try to bite us or dwarves anymore. Eleven feeds him from time to time and he’s not missing any bodies, see?”

“You can’t take him with you,” One immediately moves onto the next subject.

“Don’t worry, miss One. I just want to take him out for a walk, and he’ll go back into the caves on his own.”

Hello, headache, my old friend.

“Number two, why is there a pink zebro on your head?” Gem asks after she recovers from her original jaw drop.

“Dwarves are all dim and dark, so I wanted something that would clearly signal that I’m not a dwarf, and I don’t even know anything like that,” he answers with clear conviction of a job well done, “Just like mister Granite wanted.”

You know, on some level it makes perfect sense. If you don’t think about it too much…

...so I don’t.

“Everyone will be staring at us...” mumbles Gem, leaning to my ear as we start heading towards the tunnel to the Crystal Empire castle.

“Let them,” I mutter back, “I’ll take a laughing diplomat over sad Three any day.”

“If you put it like that...” Gem sighs, “But please, keep him away from the delegation from Zebrica. I’ve already lived through one zebra invasion already, and I’d like to keep what getting striped means now.”

“Which is?” I ask.

“Much more fun,” Gem coughs and looks away.

I shrug. We might insult someone on accident, but if we act with good intentions and no ill will, this will end up being alright. No paladins, no torches and pitchforks, no furious alicorns.

And that’s that I need to keep repeating to myself over and over otherwise I’ll suffer another panic attack even before we reach the Crystal Empire.

Thankfully, the sky doesn’t drop on us during the day long trip through the tunnel. Or the ceiling. Does that expression apply if we’re underground? Anyway, we mostly walk in silence, with the only one mumbling being Gem. Something about ogres, oubliettes, levels, and monster placement. When I examined the new bulk of information growing inside the hive mind, I understood precisely nothing. A fake map? Why?

I find this absolutely fascinating, and as we finally enter the direct tunnel to the Crystal Empire, and wince as Three releases his flame spider which I refuse to call by a name because those are horrible pony-and-changeling-eating monsters, I watch Gem’s work grow. Thankfully, the amount of information she’s saving in the hive mind is so miniscule that her doing that doesn’t have any visible drain on our love resources. Sometimes she moves a dot representing a monster, sometimes she switches it with a different one, but mostly she’s just adding new rooms, starting the map as two-dimensional but quickly expanding into cellars, small towers, and even sketches of what has to be the inside and outside of certain important features.

By the end of the day’s trip, I notice we’ve lost Three. We must already be under the Crystal Empire, and as far as I know, there aren’t any pathways branching off of this tunnel, so he can’t have wandered off.

“Hey, where are you, Three?” I quickly check his position on the real mental map of the underground. He’s not far back, and a quick look out of his eyes reveals that he’s staring at a wall, nose scrunched.

“This wall is weird, boss,” he replies.

“How come?”

“It’s drafty, but there are no holes anywhere, and… I don’t know how to explain it. Can you feel what I can feel, boss?”

“See, feel, everything other than read your mind. Unless you want me to do that.”

“Nah, this is okay. You’ll understand this, boss, the others wouldn’t,” he taps on the suspicious wall. Again, again, and again in various places, “It’s a wall, but it doesn’t feel like a wall.”

I see. I’m the only one able to fully understand what Three’s drone senses are screaming at him.

Not completely. It looks like a solid rock wall, it feels to the touch like a solid rock wall, but the tremors and the sound of Three’s knocking… is as if those were okay going one way, but simply disappeared going the other way. Id there was anything like a one-way wall, it would probably feel like this.

On the other hole, we don’t have time to stop and dig, and much less a permission.

“Well noticed, Three. I suppose that since we’re under the Crystal Empire, there might some sort of a cellar behind that wall, with maybe some magical ventilation or something. Seven would be able to figure this out, but he’s too far for me to contact. Anyway, we’ve got a train to catch, so let’s not waste time here. If it’s still weird when we get back, we can have a better look at it.”

“Okay, boss. I’ll be with you in a second,” he glares at the wall, daring it to reveal its secrets, but nothing happens. Maybe he could try doing the lip wibble and asking nicely. I mean, it worked for him almost against everything until now.

No, let’s not tell him that. If he somehow is able to warp reality purely by being nice, I’d prefer using it when it counts. Maybe for wishing away the guards and paladins who will surround us instantly when we arrive in Canterlot. Or maybe even before. Maybe this tunnel is guarded already. And maybe…

Breathe in, breathe out.

Three, galloping with his hoofsteps echoing through the tunnel, catches up with us, and hops on my back. The warm ball of love emanating from him at all times washes away my fresh panic attack.

Accompanied by the slow chatter of Comfort recalling her accidental summoning by some weird guy during a show in Las Pegasus, we finally reach the long, winding staircase leading to the crystal castle, and when the secret door opens-

I freeze.

No, it’s not paladins.

It’s Seven and everyone fanned out in a wide circle around the door, drones, warriors, and infiltrators waving at us as we push out of the narrow doorway. Two warriors are holding a banner reading:

“HEV A NYS TRIP END GOOD LAG BOS!!!”

Six notices me tilt my head as I read the crudely drawn letters covered partly by grimy hoofprints, some green goo, and with uneven spaces between them.

“We let them try to work the spelling out on their own. They did their best. They decided that three exclamation marks were important to show how much they mean it,” he says, smirking.

“Hnnnglbgh...” Seven collapses on the floor, out like a light. Five immediately loads him on his back.

“It was his idea. He wanted to surprise you by teleporting everyone ahead to give you a proper send off. He didn’t listen to me when I told him he could have a send off in the castle and then teleport you to the end of the tunnel,” Five explains, “Guess he just wanted to show off his magic.”

“Come here,” I pull immediately embarrassed Five into a hug, and everyone starts hugging everyone, much to the surprise of two harassed-looking armed crystal pony guards in the back.

Those two earn Comfort’s attention who saunters over to them, and proceeds with semi-consentual hugging. Their objections that they are on duty and that we’re technically invading the seat of rulership of another country doesn’t help them in the slightest, and in the end they find themselves with their helmet askew, trying to rub off gold kiss marks all over their faces. Good luck with that.

When even Cryo releases the four changelings she’s currently holding in her embrace, and everyone seems to finally be comfortable with a job well done, I clear my throat.

“Thank you for the send off, guys. We’ll do our best to make sure you can go outside safely not only in Brauheim. The peace treaty Chrysalis signed is one thing, but we’ll show them we weren’t their enemies in the first place. You make sure there still is a home ready and waiting for us when we return.”

They all salute, and I can feel the pride from all their links, more links than I’ve ever thought I would feel around me since I left the Badlands. When the salute is over, Five with unconscious Seven opens the secret doorway to leave, and-

The two crystal guards slide onto the floor, their breathing slowing down. My own eyelids droop, and I yawn. We must have been more exhausted from the trip and the surprise than I thought.

“Have y-aaah...” I yawn again, and switch to speaking through the hive mind.

“You didn’t need to knock the guards out yet, Comfort.”

“I didn’t do anything. Why do all of you suddenly look as if you didn’t sleep for a week?” she asks, “Why are the hundreds dropping like bowling pins?”

Wait what? All of us?

In the real world, Three is already snoring on my back. All the new hive members numbered hundred and above are already out like a light. Two is rubbing her eyes. Gem scowls, grabs one potion I obviously can’t identify and downs it. It doesn’t look as if it did anything, and she says:

“This is magic. My energy drink didn’t do anything, and that thing can make a passed out dragon start dancing. Gimme a second,” she downs a different potion, and perks up instantly, “Yep, the potion of magic resistance worked.”

“Got more of those?” in the blackness of the hive mind, we’re all okay, but our bodies out there are inching towards deep sleep with every passed second, “Oh gods, ow, why, who what?” I feel sudden shaking and stinging, and open my real eyes wide as I notice Comfort slapping me and shaking me by the neck, “I get it, I get it, that’s working, that’s working,” aaaand I yawn again instantly when she tops.

-“One, you’re awake, that’s an order!”-

Her eyes shoot open, and One stands at attention instantly, the effect of the spell completely insufficient against my mental order.

“I WAS A QUEEN AND I KICKED A TON OF ASS, KICKED A TON OF ASS, KICKED A TON OF ASS!” Cryo starts screaming from full lungs what I recognize to be a variation of Three’s digging song. And when she starts screaming, everyone clutches their ears, “I WAS A QUEEN AND I KICKED A TON OF ASS, KICKY KICKY ASS, KICKING ASS! BEARD!”

Now that works like a charm, and everyone’s groaning in pain, but fully aware. For about five seconds...

“Yep, that’s a suspended animation enchantment,” I hear Seven’s voice in my head, “And for hole’s sake, stop the damn screaming! I was happily passed out until this happened.”

Short moment later, Seven slides off of dizzy Five’s back, and whistles.

“Huh, localized inside the castle, apparently. Give me a second,” a quick peek into his mind reveals knowledge pouring into his head from nowhere, a mark left on him by the encounter with the Vigil’s master, “Aaaand done!”

With a flash of his horn, the heavy pressure forcing me down on the floor and to curl up and sleep fades completely.

“Did you dispel it?” asks One immediately.

“No,” Seven shakes his head, “I don’t know the origin, but I’m working on it. It’s a blanket spell, so it’s not overly powerful and I made proper protection for us based on our hive mind connection. As long as someone stays awake, we’ll all stay awake, and because Comfort and One seem to be immune already, we’ll be okay.”

“Well done,” I nod my head, “That’s genuinely impressive.”

“Sometimes I surprise myself,” Seven smirks, “Now let me focus and figure out where the spell is coming from.”

Eleven appears in front of me, all bodies jumping up and down as they change back from crystalline structure practically invisible here in the castle back into their black chitinous glory.

“All-”

“-crystal-”

”-ponies-”

“-are-”

“-sleeping-”

“-Boss!”

I’m getting so paranoid that I don’t bother pointing out that he’s not concentrating on talking again. This isn’t a random magic accident, it can’t be.

“Got it! Now let’s be quiet, everyone, and haul ass!” orders Seven. Everyone looks at me, and he sighs, “Leading the dummies when you’re gone will be a pain in the ass, I can already see it.”

“Listen to Seven and move. Hive mind communication only,” I order.

We rush through the silent castle, staircase after staircase, following Seven whose horn is glowing green all the time. Thankfully, most of us are experienced with combat, silent movement, relocating like a unit, and the hundreds are linked up to us and absorbing all the knowledge they can.

From the many windows along each hallway I notice that we must be almost on top of the castle when Seven stops and points at a door with two sleeping crystal guards by its sides, another pair of many we’ve seen throughout the castle.

“Inside,” says Seven.

“One, do the honors,” I point at the door.

In complete silence, green fire rushes through One’s body, and I can feel the strength inside her building up. She walks up to the double door, and-

“Diplomacy, my love. Diplomacy.”

-simply opens it.

However, the instant she spots an equine figure standing over an emperor-size bed, completely covered from head to hoof by dark green robe, her enhanced hind legs propel her forward in a jump which makes her into a hard, chitinous projectile that hits the figure straight in the back so hard it-

-shatters?

The sleep spell ends. Dry, grey bones scatter all over the room from One’s impact, and she herself, entangled in the robe, hits the far wall with a deafening thud. Something resembling a dark shadow jumps out of the robe, and disappears through the closed window.

The two figures whom I know as princess Cadance and her husband Shining Armor wake up covered in bleached bones to the commotion of around forty changelings surrounding their bed.

Things get screamy.

“GUARDS!” Shining Armor call out on instinct while jumping off of the bed with the blanket still wrapped around him, and landing on a group of now terrified drones and Eleven, “GUAAAAAR-mmmmphf!” his quick roll turns him into an emperor-changeling burrito.

Cadance, now blanket-less, crosses her legs with an ‘eep!’.

“CHRYSALIS, IT’S CHRYSALIS AGAIN! SHE’LL EGG ME AGAIN! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Shining Armor has managed to somehow free his mouth, I see.

The crystal guards previously sleeping outside barge into the already crowded bedroom, and realize they can’t move their long spears whatsoever. No one is stopping them, there just isn’t any space. In the back, Comfort, grinning like a pedophile on a playground, slams the door shut.

“THEY’RE EVERYWHERE! THEY’RE SWARMING EVERYWHERE! THEY’RE IN MY BEARD! STOP EATING MY HIVE, YOU GOO MONSTERS!” the clutter apparently triggers Cryo’s PTSD. If she starts flailing around, this won’t end well.

Strangely enough, the only empty part of the room is the royal bed, on which sits only completely paralyzed Cadance.

Two pushes through and hugs Cryo’s foreleg. I feel her push through her hive link with Cryo and forcibly stop the ancient queen.

Everyone uncovers their ears, leaving us only with the noises of Shining Armor and few changelings thrashing around in one blanket wrap.

“MY ASS CAN’T TAKE IT AGAIN! I DON’T CARE HOW GOOD IT FELT, I DON’T WANT TO BE AN EGG SACK ANYMORE! GUARDS, HELP, I’M BEING VIOLATED!”

“Don’t you dare move,” Comfort pokes the two guards who couldn’t help even if they tried, “This is gold. Anyone got a camera here?”

Three jump up to Cadance who twitches, and hugs her side. Everything eventually stops, and the bedroom goes completely silent.

What do I say not to start a total war immediately?

To my surprise, it’s Cadance who takes charge by grabbing smiling Three whose head tilts backwards a little due to the weight of his new manestyle.

“Hey, you’re the little guy who stole the Crystal Heart, aren’t you?” she asks carefully.

“Mhm,” he nods, “Hello, miss not-bad-mom. Do you like my new mane? Miss Gem think it’s over the top and that the zebras on the summit will be mad, but I learned to make it taste like cotton candy. Want some? I can grow more no problem,” he rubs his head, and boops stunned Cadance with a pink-covered hoof, leaving the sweet blob on her nose.

She licks it on reflex, and raises an eyebrow.

“Not bad,” she puts him down on the bed, clears her throat, and looks around, “So, who’s going to explain what’s going on here?’”

Everyone looks at me.

“Umm, can someone help release prince Shining Armor first?” I ask, which the nearest few one of whom thankfully is Five interpret as an order, and she slowly unrolls the blanket. Two Elevens, one drone, and Shining Armor shuffle back on all fours, and said drone crawls immediately under the bed from where six more heads are watching the situation. Shining Armor joins his wife on the bed.

Oh wow, they’re not scared of the unicorn, they’re all scared that I’ll be mad at them for not getting out of the way and freaking Shining Armor out. Well, Eleven just likes crawl spaces, that too.

“Good, now get out from under the bed,” I say slowly, “Well, what happened was… well… we entered the castle through a secret underground passage, and everyone started falling asleep suddenly. Seven there,” I nod at him, “Discovered that a sleeping spell was cast on the castle, and we tracked the source to here. When we got inside, there was a...”

“A skeleton in a robe,” One throws the robe on the bed, and nods to the various bones visible around, “I jumped at it and it shattered, which made the spell end. You as well as the guards woke up a moment later. If you want to know why there’s almost forty of us here, few of whom are still hiding under your bed, Eleven, then you’ve got your priorities wrong with all due respect.”

“Alright, first things first,” Shining Armor speaks out firmly, “This is our bedroom. Everyone out!”

“You heard the prince,” I say as most of my changelings don’t really care for orders from anyone but myself, “And everyone who’s not coming to the summit goes home now. Thank you for the send off. We’ll make sure to bring back something nice for you from pony land.”

Shortly after we clear out the place, Shining Armor joins the guards outside, and leads them away.

“We’ll inspect the guards inside the castle,” he says, “Cadance will be with you in a minute.”

The leave, and the pink alicorn princess joins us.

“We really didn’t want to be a bother, princess,” I say, giving her a courteous bow, “We just wanted to sneak through the castle on our way to catch the express train to Canterlot for the royal summit.”

“Ohhh right!” Cadance smacks her forehead, leading the way, “I completely forgot we invited you as well. You’re early, though.”

“I wanted us to have a chance to see Canterlot before the summit,” explains Gem, “Last time the boss was there… things weren’t going well.”

“Don’t worry too much, Gem,” Cadance pats her back, “Ponies are used to changelings these days, though when a second changeling faction appears, it’s bound to make some nobles worried. However, if you’re careful around griffons, you’ll be okay, your Majesty,” she gives me a friendly smile. Considering we’ve met only twice before, once in the Castle of Two Sisters when she was unconscious, and then after we returned the Crystal Heart, she’s a very friendly pony, and I can’t sense any ill intent from her. Just princess of Love things, I guess. Or princess of food, as Three calls her sometimes.

“I’m more worried about what happened here tonight,” I admit with a sigh, “Although I was expecting a lot more trouble for sneaking into your castle and all that. Can we really go just like that?”

Cadance chuckles.

“Queen Chrysalis visits me often, and she assured me the last thing your hive wanted was to cause trouble. Besides, Gem here always visits the castle when she’s on the way to Rift, and there have never been trouble with you, which is a lot more than I can say for… anypony else, really. Though I still don’t know where exactly that secret tunnel of yours is, but this castle is full of secrets left behind by king Sombra we’re still uncovering randomly even now. Believe or not, a direct tunnel to your hive is the least dangerous thing in here. And maybe things will go so well at the summit that you won’t need to hide anymore, and some of us might come and visit. I know my aunts don’t harbor any ill will towards you for the events in the Castle of Two Sisters.”

“I told her the reason why we didn’t want the tunnel to be explored, even if they discovered it, was that we have really heavy security in our hive due to our bad experiences with paladins, and that visitors might be seriously hurt. Can’t have some random expedition reveal the truth about dwarves,” Gem quickly explains.

“Good thinking.”

“Hopefully so,” I say out loud, ”To be honest, it would be fun to start a new escape hive game like we had in Las Pegasus, but here in the Crystal Empire.”

“Oh? I didn’t hear about that?” Cadance gives me curious glance. However, we’ve finally reached the main gate of the castle now guarded from both sides, which the crystal ponies open when the princess nods, “We’ll have time to talk about it during the summit. Who knows? Maybe somepony else might be interested in that kind of business in their city as well. It’s an idea that might help others get to know you.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say as we leave the castle while Cadance stays in, “But I’ll be happy enough with not having soldiers sent after us. Larva flops, larva flops.”

“Foal steps,” Gem translates immediately.

“I see,” Cadance nods, “See you in Canterlot then,” she waves, and the guards close the castle gate again.

After a brief stop by the Crystal Heart to refresh, we head straight to the train station, drawing the Crystal Empire map from Gem’s head.

I’ve never seen it before. It’s very simple, actually - a large roof held by pillars, with three sets of train tracks underneath and a platform by each. Like everything in the city, all buildings and platforms are made from crystals of various opacity, and there are various stands scattered around, all closed at this time of night. Fortunately, the overnight express Gem planned to take is standing by the nearest platform, apparently about half full, judging by the lit up coupes.

“I’ll go sort out the tickets,” Gem rushes off.

Oh… money…

Surface money…

Money none of us have.

I’m not a smart king, am I?

“It’ll be okay, love,” One feels my sudden distress, ”We’re a hive. We’re one entity. If one fails, others succeed. Gem has the experience we need.”

The changeling in question returns with a stack of papers which she presents to a sleepy crystal unicorn at one of the steps leading into the train. He seems a little on edge when approached by a large group of changelings at night. Can’t blame him, really.

“Hey, what’s that?” he points at Three’s head as he’s getting on.

“I’m luggage,” he dabs the pony’s mouth with his mane, and hops on board.

“Mmmm...” the unicorn doesn’t bother us anymore, “Tasty.”

Gem leads us to an empty coupe into which we somehow fits, mostly thanks to Eleven immediately using Cryo as a stepladder to crawl into the overhead luggage space while the huge mare nas no qualms with being a leg rest.

All in all… that didn’t go half as bad as I thought.

“Now, we’ve got about twenty minutes before we leave, and then some eleven hours’ trip to Canterlot.” Gem smiles and pulls out a small pouch which she empties on the window table, revealing a set of various dice. Next, our attention gets drawn to the map she’s been preparing inside our hive mind the whole trip. Most of it, however, is obscured by black fog, as we can clearly see,

“Only one question remains…” she breathes out, “Who wants to play some Ogres and Oubliettes, and save the town of Darkmire from a horrible curse?”

2: Some call it a horrifying omen of things to come. Some call it Tuesday.

View Online

“Why does it always have to be a sewer…?”

This disgusted female voice mirrors the thoughts of everyone currently trudging through the fetlock-deep sludge of Manehattan sewer system for far too many-eth time. Granted, as far as sewers go, Manehattan complex could be counted among the most “hospitable” ones, ranking only behind, of course, Canterlot. This means that while these round, dark green tunnels covered with patches of slimy moss still carry the heavy, acrid stench of decay and waste, at least it’s possible for all strange members of the currently present five-pony… no, five-mostly-not-pony group to walk side by side and without crouching.

Let’s start with the speaker looking straight ahead with narrowed eyes, as if her mind was completely elsewhere. She’s a unicorn mare, charcoal black with shoulder-long, white mane flowing freely down her neck cut in the uneven style of someone who probably did it themselves and without bothering to use a mirror. One of her eyes is blue, and one green. Not that they are overly visible in the light cast by a flashlight hanging on a strap around her neck, or even relevant to many things, but for the sake of completeness it needs mentioning. As far as her physical stature goes, she certainly is athletic, but nothing crazy, really. More wiry than with curvy muscles, in fact. She can’t be too old, mid or late twenties at most, but her face, her weary stare, and few wrinkles under the eyes no one this young should bear prove beyond all doubt that, as the young say these days, she’s seen some real shit.

Her cutie mark isn’t special on the first glance, though, consisting of two crossed guardless swords, one white with ebony handle, and the other one ashen grey with ivory handle. If someone were to get inquisitive and suspicious enough, they might come to the conclusion that the white edge of one of the blades is too bright to be steel, and if such scholar did enough digging, they might figure out the color is the most similar to an extremely rare metal called istrium. Of course, the methods of forging the raw material into such sturdy metal were lost long time ago if they weren’t entirely mythical to begin with.

In contrast to her cutie mark, she’s got only one sword strapped on her back, although it does look exactly like the ashen one with white handle. The only thing other than the sword, the lamp, and a bandanna covering her mouth she’s got on her seems to be a small saddlebag on her side. Her long horn keeps shimmering, not with a light spell or any visible magical effect. On a closer look, though, one could see that she’s not actually walking through the waste water, rather that all water stops around her fetlocks as if she was wearing an invisible set of boots.

“Hard to summon demons in your parents’ apartment, I suppose,” answers a calm and a rather jovial male voice, “I can just picture it. Hey, son, I hope you’re not jacking off in your room! No dad, I’m just- PARGON PARGON VITAE AM YOM TAR! Hey, son, why do I smell sulfur? NO REASON!”

The speaker this time is a pure white, claws and everything, griffon walking by the unicorn’s side, wearing the same dark green bandanna and a strap with a huge, double-headed battle axe on his back. Of course, question number one, if the oversized axe is on his back, would be - how does he take it off? The answer is simple, on the first glance. The griffon is tall, and his physical build is something that even ancient stone statues of heroes could only dream off, which makes it possible that he might be able to wield a two-handed weapon made for a minotaur with one foreleg. However, there might be a better clue to that in his emerald green eyes which, contrary to popular opinion, shouldn’t be glowing with immense power beyond the understanding of mere mortals. Too theatrical? Good. Now, with eyes like those, body that would make an ice sculpture drool, and a permanent cheeky smile on his beak, he looks like a guy who would have a full harem here in Equestria, and all princesses would be in it. Not that that’s the case, he just looks like it.

“You could take this a little more seriously, Cromach. I mean, sir,” the unicorn mare gives him a dirty, sideways glance, although from her only slightly annoyed tone it’s clear she’s used to this kind of thing.

“Come on, Connie,” Cromach smirks at her, “We’ve been in worse sewers, and on worse cases. Eldritch screaming and summoned demons in a cellar, boo hoo. That’s what... third time in two months? This isn’t even in a top hundred scary things we’ve seen, and I’m not sure we did break a hundred creepy cases yet. The only question we don’t know the answer to yet is whether the pony responsible for it did it willingly. To be honest, at this point we might return simple cases like this one back to the police,” he snaps his talons as if recalling something crucial, “Wait, no, two questions. Trothai, neighponnese, or marexican food for late lunch after we get back?”

“Oooh oooh oooh! Can we get griffon?” squelching of dirty water from far ahead is interrupted by eager female voice, a certainly much higher-pitched than Connie’s, and the sound akin to a rain of cannonballs hitting a water surface. From the darkness ahead, a pony shape rushes at crazy speed towards the group, and the light of flashlights reveal what looks like a toned earthpony mare… with few features that always make the skin of ponies who see her for the first time crawl. Her abrupt stop sprays Cromach and Connie with hopefully only water, “Can we, can we, can we?”

Okay, the enthusiastic bouncing up and down, splashing everything, in front of the white griffon doesn’t help their overall dirty situation.

“Considering we very wisely decided to attack a pocket dimension at noon, which is something no one in their right mind would expect, all the shops will be open, Bubbles,” Cromach nods, and Bubbles jumps at him, clamping her legs around his chest like a vice, “Mind the claws,” is all smiling Cromach says as he pats Bubbles’ head. She smiles back, lowers her bandanna, presenting a mouth full of teeth that would make even Comfort wince, licks the griffon’s face, and jumps back into the water with a backflip.

Let’s take it from the top then. On the first glance, Bubbles looks like an earthpony mare scaled down almost to dwarf size, although still fit and strong and without the bulkiness. Both her coat and mane are rusty reddish brown speckled with golden dots clustering mostly around her spine. Her tail isn’t that of a pony, rather a long, narrowing, prehensile whip ending in a short, leonine duster. Other than that, the only unusual features visible outright on her are bigger ears, and claws on her forelegs instead of hooves. However, when Bubbles smiles, or opens her mouth at any point, really, everyone can see her huge, sharp teeth which would make anyone wonder where in her skull they fit, since her head isn’t malformed in any way. Unlike anyone else, she’s not carrying any equipment on her, which would be a waste anyway, with her teeth and claws.

The question of what Bubbles really is would take far too long to explain right now, and distract from the final two abnormal members of the sewer group.

“Can we stop spoiling her, sir?” the biggest figure currently walking through the sewers speaks up, one taller than even the white griffon. A bipedal one, which helps with that whole big and tall aspect, “She barely eats what the recruits cook in the canteen as it is, fat little blob,” she can’t help taking a jab at Bubbles, albeit one completely untrue.

Patience! We’re almost done with the descriptions. A bodybuilder-tier minotaur female whose coat is so dark yellow that it borders on brown towers over everyone else, her horns almost scratching the sewer ceiling. Despite the fact that she’s in Manehattan, what she’s wearing would be more at home on a tropical beach, and it shows off her somewhat incredible endowments for the world to see. On the other gravity-defying breast, she’s clearly used to the attention, and the mess of the sewers doesn’t seem to bother her. Other than her thigh-high leather boots, that is.

Blood, blood, calm down, go back to the brain this instant!

So yes, ehm, the minotaur warrior slash fetish-wear model slash classic fantasy novel book cover dream is carrying a two-handed heavy mace on her back, plus an assortment of smaller weapons on a belt holding up her short skirt not covering her round, muscular booty even halfway.

“What? That’s not true, miss Anvil!” Bubbles turns around, looking up… and up at the minotaur, “I eat everything! I just like meat the most, and I’m not fat. Astryyy! I’m not fat, am I?” she cranes her neck to look at her belly in panic.

Aaaand the final member of the dynamic duo… dynamic quintet is the strangest creature out of all of them, with the furry lower body akin to that of a minotaur, but a face of a creature not native to this world. His name also isn’t Astryyy, but Astray, and he’s a satyr, as he learned during his early years in the Crystal Empire orphanage. However, the only visible part of his body is his head topped with short, grey hair, because he’s the only one here wearing actual armor. His armor is a strange mix of plate and chain mail, or more accurately a plate mail which has been reforged by an expert into something which someone with less carrying strength than a pony could wear. Most of the full-body armor is emblazoned by symbols of the sun, at first making it look like one belonging to a paladin, but the suns are slightly polished out to look more silver than gold. In short, it looks like an armor originally made for a paladin, but adjusted in all possible ways to fit a different person, different species, and different use. Anyway, back to the satyr himself, as little as can be seen from him inside the armor. There’s a short sword hanging in a sheath on his belt, and a griffon pistol on the other side as well as miscellaneous pouches and small bags between the two weapons. Aaand that’s all. I mean, you can’t really see much of Astray other than his head and the armor.

Booo! Stop the description and get to the action! Or at least describe the minotaur titties in more detail.

So, as Anvil jiggles along the sewer tunnel- no, bad brain!

“Of course you’re not fat, Bubbly,” Astray pats the head of the energetic at-least-partially-mare, which makes her beam and stick her tongue out at Anvil, “I don’t think it’s even possible for you. Being a half-demon and all.”

“Seventy-five percent demon!” she corrects him, “Miss Anvil has been teaching me to count properly. One third succubus, one third some murder lord of Tartarus, one third hopefully earthpony… though my mom was a unicorn so that would make me...” Bubbles’s large ears droop, “Miss Anvil, how do I divide by earthpony? Math is hard.”

“Can we focus on the task at hoof?” Connie’s cold voice cuts through the jovial atmosphere, “You never knows what lurks in these sewers,” a sadistic grin spreads on her muzzle, “This is Manehattan. Unlike Canterlot, magic trade and alchemy aren’t so well regulated. All back-alley attempts end up flushed down here. Malformed homunculi, foals who were presumed dead after birth but survived here on rotten flesh and waste, living nightmares you simply can’t wake up from, and much more, much worse. They say that if you walk the wrong tunnels at night, you can hear their weeping and chattering of teeth they sharpened on bones of sewer rats.”

“Eep!” Bubbles shivers and shuffles back to Astray, her side now pressed tightly against his armored leg. After a moment, she darts ahead again, staring at Connie with a victorious smile, “Hey, I know something that’s even scarier than those things! And it’s lurking down here too.”

“Yeees?” Connie raises an eyebrow.

“We are!” Bubbles grins from ear to ear, which is unsettling or downright pants-soiling sight for anyone not used to her. With glow in her pink eyes similar to Cromach’s, she rushes off to scout ahead again.

“Can’t argue with that,” Connie shrugs to the chuckling of everyone around, “Pop quiz - how far are we from the target?” her voice is suddenly razor-sharp.

Astray aims his lamp at the top of the tunnel where there’s a set of numbers which he compares to a small notepad he pulls out of one of his bags.

“Six more blocks straight and then three to the right,” he reports, “We should be directly under the apartment complex, Contradiction.”

“Hey, at least someone is taking this seriously,” the black and white mare smirks.

“Come on,” Anvil rolls her eyes, “Sir Cromach is right. We’ve done this over and over in the last year, and I still haven’t met anything scarier than Cross during combat practice.”

“On the other talon,” Cromach snorts, clearly amused, “You probably never will, or at least you should hope you don’t. I’ve been on the receiving end of some serious divine punishment, and I enjoy every day when we’re dealing with some random demons. Hell, even the last year’s case with poor Black Shield was more an active holiday than a real threat.”

“Didn’t feel like holiday...” mumbles Bubbles, recalling herself getting gutted by an overly inquisitive unicorn interested in her demonic side, “But I got all of you out of it, so it started the best time of my life!” she instantly perks up again.

“You know, I do have to agree with that,” Astray says thoughtfully.

“You just like watching me in the shower,” Anvil smirks at him.

“You’re forgetting the massages afterwards,” the satyr proves his mental resilience by not blushing anymore.

“Yep, that’s how much you still have to learn,” Anvil doesn’t admit defeat, “Or can you forget any time I massaged you after training?”

Astray winces, memory of the powerful minotaur’s hands kneading bordering on crushing.

“You’re hard as a rock, really. Would it be too difficult not to have the last word for once?” asks Astray, mostly trying to pass time rather than argue.

“When you beat me, you can do what you want with me. That’s the minotaur way. We never just give in,” Anvil hums to herself, “Though I’m eagerly awaiting the day, if only out of sheer curiosity.”

“Group cuddle!” Bubbles has returned once again from her ceaseless rushing forth behind the first corner ahead and back, “We can get sir Cromach and miss Connie to join us.”

“Hmmm… one foreleg around Connie, one around Anvil,” Cromach muses, “That’s the life. I almost envy you, Astray.”

“It’s not like that, sir,” Astray whistles innocently, and does his best to avoid Anvil’s fresh glare.

“Yeah,” Bubbles objects too, “Miss Anvil and Astray usually sleep next to each other while I get to lie on them. We tried it once with miss Anvil on top, but we had to stop when Astray turned blue. She’s heavy.”

“Full-blooded minotaur muscle,” Anvil flexes and slaps her biceps, “All of me.”

“We wouldn’t fit in the bunk bed,” Contradiction cuts that discussion short, “And I’ll rip the first slut who touches Cromach in half.”

Bubbles instantly jumps on the griffon, hanging around his neck seemingly without him even noticing her weight.

“You don’t count,” adds Connie.

“I still don’t understand what he sees in your bony ass,” Anvil flicks Connie’s ear with her finger.

“His cock. Often.”

“AHEM!” Cromach clears his throat, “Let’s not get too carried away,” he grabs Bubbles by the nape of her neck, and drops her down, “Shoo!”

“We’re almost there anyway,” Connie’s voice turns serious again, and everyone goes quiet.

“Well, squad leader,” Cromach winks at her, “Lead away.”

“Bubbles, go!” whispers Connie.

The rusty half-demonette slinks ahead, quickly but also quietly this time, like a prowling leopard. The rest of the group simply try to walk as slowly as they can not to cause any more loud splashing. The report they received from the unicorns of Manehattan police department stated that the cellar had been turned into a pocket dimension. According to the findings, the place supposedly isn’t secured against any entry from anywhere else than the main door from the building it belongs to, so the best access path was identified as a section of a wall shared with the sewer system. The police didn’t know what to expect, and decided against risking personnel, especially when there was the strike force of the Order of the Silver Sun readily available in the city.

As they clear the corner, they see Bubbles with her nose pressed against the wall a short way away, poking at various bricks with her claws. She looks at them, and waves at them to come closer.

“This wall tastes of magic,” she whispers and paws at her tongue stuck out, “and other nasty stuff. How do we get in?”

Astray taps one of his pouches. They indeed did attack few sites of summonings gone wrong in the past year, but no pocket dimension yet.

“Get ready. We don’t know what’s going to happen,” he says quietly, grabs a handful of white dust from the pouch, and throws it against the wall.

For a moment, nothing happens, giving time for Anvil and Bubbles to take point while Astray and Connie stand in the back. Cromach, watching the professional approach of the group, remains a bit to the side.

That proves to be the smart choice, as a sudden whirlwind of colors bursts out of the wall, and sucks the four Silver Sun members inside, leaving a swirling surface where only the solid the wall was before.

Cromach shrugs, grabs his axe, counts to ten, and jumps in as well.

Few calculations happen in his head at once next. First, considering that Anvil and Astray are already back to back, fighting a wall of teeth and claws made of demons, there has to be a time dilation happening inside the pocket dimension, and the good kind on top. That means they can spend more time here and still return back to the real world in possibly minutes. Second, since Contradiction is currently telekinetically beating a group of red ponies with horns all over using a large, minotaur-like demon with blades instead of fingers, he doesn’t need to do anything crazy to control the situation. Third, there’s a black hellhound, teeth as long as Cromach’s talons, twice his size attempting to eat him.

With a swing of his axe accompanied by green lightning crackling along its edge, Cromach cleaves the hellhound in half, and charges through the gore at the closest target which happens to be a naked humanoid succubus cracking a thorny whip at him.

“Oh my, such a strong, beautiful specimen-” she purses her lips at him.

*Crunch!*

Her limbs simply flash for a moment, and then get ripped off of her torso without the succubus having any idea what’s going on. The rest of her gets crumpled into a small, bloody pulp, bones cracking under impossible telekinetic pressure.

“THAT’S MY GRIFFON, YOU DEMONIC WHORSE!” screams Connie, currently jumping between another minotaur demon behemoth’s legs to avoid a wide swipe of curved claws as long as her shin.

“Hmm, gruesome,” Cromach mumbles, “I could have gone for some hoof-to-hoof combat with that one.”

“I HEARD THAT!” Connie, currently between the demon’s legs, turns her telekinetic pressure into a blade, and pushes upwards, easily slicing the huge figure in half, “Now stop drooling over succubi and get some cardio in, fatty!”

“That’s what I had in mind, actually- WHOAH!” smirks Cromach, and avoids a demon thrown his way at meteoric speed who splatters against a wall behind him.

He approaches another succubus, this one looking like a minotaur even more endowed than Anvil, wearing spiked bra and a thong, and toying with a burning whip while observing the situation around.

“Hey, girl, wanna go for some one-on-one?” he cracks his talons.

This succubus’ eyes bulge, darting from him to the previously obliterated succubus, and then to Connie.

“Nope!” she starts fleeing into the distance as far as her legs and demonic wings allow.

Cromach sighs, and looks around with a bored expression. The inside of the pocket dimension is still the expected cellar, but one spread out to be the size of a hoofball field. A burning portal hangs in the middle of each side, demons of varying sizes and amount of teeth pouring in through them. In the center of the cellar is a summoning circle with a unicorn in his late teens hanging suspended in the air.

“Any pleasure demons wanting to devour my soul around here?” Cromach raises his voice to no avail.

With a pout, he starts heading towards the floating unicorn, all demons hastily getting out of his way, opting instead to chase Bubbles darting around the battlefield.

The little demonette’s attention turns to one blood-red demon twice the size of Anvil, with four arms and blades coming from the knuckles of each. He roars, tries to stomp her, misses and accidentally crushes an equine imp. Bubbles, though, crawls up his legs, digs her claws into his tough skin as if it was paper, and with a vertical jump she lands on his shoulder.

“Don’t I know you?” she squeaks into his ear, “I think mom summoned you once, right?”

“GET OFF OF ME, VERMIN!” the demon tries to grab Bubbles who deftly swings around his neck on his other shoulder.

“No, really. It was in this big cathedral with blood everywhere, and- HEY!” she snaps her jaws at the demon’s hand nearby, severing his wrist with one bite, “Stop flailing and bleeding everywhere! You still have three left, you big filly.”

“I WILL RIP YOU TO SHREDS!” the demon roars. The furious scream turns into a gurgle as Bubbles chews his head off with two powerful bites.

“Seriously, you just can’t talk to some demons,” she jumps off of the collapsing titan who crushes several scampering infernals underneath, “Hey, anyone? Does anyone know who my dad was? Mom summoned him, she was this tall, grey unicorn mare. Wore a lot of jewels most of the time. Good with binding circles.”

“I can be your daddy if you want one, little filly,” a muscular incubus of Cromach’s size, with positively massive endowment hanging between his hind legs pounces over Bubbles, slapping her in the face with his dong, “Just open your mouth and-AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” his deep voice turns into a high-pitched screech as he watches in complete disbelief as Bubbles runs off with the entirety of his ripped off junk, dragging one end on the floor due to its sheer size.

Tornado of blood, severed limbs, and shattered skeletons surrounding Contradiction dissipates as she notices Bubbles trying to get inside. The demonette jumps to Connie, and spits out the demonic dong on the already messy floor.

“Look, miss Connie. This guy’s bigger than the stuff you always order from Bad Griffon! You can take it home and stuff it if you want,” Bubbles points to the incubus now bleeding out on the floor, his forelegs pressed against the open wound in his abdomen.

“That’s not how they make those, but thanks for the thought,” Connie pats Bubbles’ head, “Now go play with those guys,” Connie points to a horde of demons trying unsuccessfully to stuff themselves back into the one-way portal, giants stomping over the corpses of smaller ones, “That guy’s the same color as you are.”

“Hey, he’s got tentacles instead of eyes. Neat!” Bubbles runs off, stopping by the groaning and dying incubus, and spitting out his severed genitals, “Miss Connie said she already has a bigger one, so you can keep yours. But hey, at least you got to touch my mouth, right?”

The most marginally successful, or at least the least dead, group of demons is circling around Anvil and Astray. The minotaur swings her mace like a baseball bat, sending a snake-like demon flying so hard it wraps like a bola around the legs of some slayer humanoid. Astray reaches on his back for his weapon with the most kick to it - a sawed-off shotgun with which he cleanly decapitates a hellhound snapping at him. In one fluid motion, he puts the weapon back, and blocks a swipe of claws from a griffon-like creature set on disemboweling him. He winces at the strength of the blow, deflects the limb away from himself, and with a quick swing back slits the demon’s throat.

The minotaur and satyr duo systematically fight back to back, more intent on winning the long battle rather than slaughtering as many demons as quickly as possible.

Cromach reaches the floating unicorn in the “center” of the cellar and, having no better exorcism idea, pokes his belly. The unicorn’s eyes roll backwards, his head turns three-sixty degrees, and he throws up blood all over the thankfully already mostly red griffon.

Connie approaches a succubus mare with heavy, hanging teats, who blows her a kiss.

“You up for a good time among all this carnage?”

“Sure, bring friends,” Connie nods.

The succubus blinks, and bares her fangs.

“Be careful what you wish for, girl,” the succubus spreads her wings, and with a moan, five younger succubi materialize out of thin air.

Connie’s horn glows, but this time an eerie feeling passes through the whole pocket dimension. Demons stop fighting, and absolutely everyone looks Connie’s way.

Giant ethereal tentacles looking as if made of sea water erupt from the floor, performing a surprise and rather fatal colonoscopy on each of the cheeky succubi.

“Hope that’s enough stretch for all of you, you horny sluts.”

“Ohhhhh crap...” the nearest demon titan breathes out in passable ponish, “Ohgodshitfuckcocksuckerdamnit!” he quickly scratches several symbols onto the floor.

A blast of golden light blinds everyone for a moment, and when the Silver Sun group blink away the afterimages, there are exactly zero demons anywhere around, the portals are gone, and the unicorn summoner is lying limp inside his summoning circle.

Cromach whistles.

“Well, this is the first time I’ve seen a demon use holy magic to banish itself to get away from us.”

The unicorn grunts, and Cromach leans down to him again.

“Hey, you okay?” he shakes the summoner whose bloody coat gives no sign of its real color. The unicorn opens his eyes, and gasps.

Black, almost liquid shadow quickly seeps out of his pores, as if ripped out, and drains into the cracks on the floor left behind by rampaging demons.

“What… who… oww...” the unicorn moans and whispers, “...thank you… whoever you are...”

Astray rushes towards the two first, and quickly pulls out a suppressor ring, immediately screwing it on the unicorn’s horn.

“Now,” Cromach shakes the dazed unicorn gently, “What happened here?”

“I… don’t know...”

“Come on, you don’t summon this amount of demons on accident unless you’re a student of ancient languages with really bad pronunciation,” the griffon frowns.

“I swear...” the unicorn groans, “I’m just… a baker… I don’t know… anything...”

A draft of cold air sends chills up everyone’s spine. Cromach turns his head around, only to see a pitch black crack hanging mid-air.

“Stop staring! The pocket dimension is breaking,” Anvil facepalms, “Didn’t anyone here read a book on advanced magic in their life?”

Something slips through the crack, a living shadow shaped like a pony-long snake with clawed arms in front which immediately lunges on Connie.

Cromach is there to interrupt the pounce, his axe slashing the shadow in two. As the creature dissipates, more and more start pouring from the crack and many more quickly appearing everywhere around. The griffon looks at his axe in confusion, and with his next practice swing the axe crackles with lightning again.

“Do these things… drain energy?” he mumbles, “Everyone, physical attacks only!”

The eight intruding creatures don’t know fear, unlike the demons, clawing and slashing their appendages at the group standing in a circle around the cowering unicorn summoner. Thankfully, their unknown origin doesn’t make them immune to the group’s weapons, and with the dimensional cracks gradually joining, the world shatters.

In the next moment, the group find themselves in a much smaller cellar although very similar in looks to the pocket dimension. With one final swing of his sword, Astray breathes out as he notices there are no hostiles anywhere around.

Cromach quickly slings the the sobbing unicorn clearly scared witless on his back, and points at the short stone stairs obviously leading up to the apartment building.

“Anvil.”

The minotaur rushes over, and kicks the door open.

“Move. We’ll sort the guy out back at home where we have a properly protected holding cell,” Cromach orders, and everyone follows him, “Bubbles, go inform the police that we’re done here. You can catch up with us.”

“The last bit wasn’t part of the summoning,” the griffon mutters to himself in the end, “I’d bet my ass on it.”

***

On the western side of Manehattan in the rich part of the city filled with mansions, gated communities, wide gardens, and open estates stands a white, three-story mansion in the shape of a V with round part in the middle. Surrounding it is a square of walls hiding open lawns within them and a gravel path leading from the mansion entrance to the only gate in the walls connecting the whole place to the world outside. There isn’t anything particularly special about it distinguishing it from all other mansions around other than layers upon layers of magical protections forming a dome over the entire area. If there was someone from the United Canterlot Orders of Wizardry nearby who was allowed to examine the spells, they would gladly trade their status and likely their own lovely grandmother for a chance to speak with the mage responsible for those barriers.

Of course, there was no one of that sort, but Cromach was currently busy talking with the changeling behind the protective spells, so there’s something. The changeling didn’t look like one, rather taking the look of a pure white unicorn mare with a light blue mane styled into something complex which wouldn’t go amiss on any Canterlot ball. In fact, everything around her screams “high-class lady”, which in itself betrays that she isn’t one. Real ladies are a lot more subtle about it.

Inside a circular room under the mansion there’s a magical circle within which sits the unicorn baker responsible for today’s summoning accident, and both the griffon and the “unicorn” mare are pondering the situation.

“Did you find anything, Starlight?” asks Cromach when the mare’s horn stops glowing.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, “No divine or demonic influence, no lingering magic, nothing. He’s clean as a whistle.”

“Hmmm… does it say anything to you?”

“Yeah,” Starlight glares at the young baker, “That guy has no clue what happened, and probably really didn’t have a hoof in causing it even on accident. Of course, you can give him to the police for questioning, punch him few times just in case, or find someone to put his brain into a wringer for a more educated guess,” she shrugs, clearly not caring about what happens with the baker next.

“Wait, no divine or demonic traces?” Cromach snaps his talons, “How is that possible? Getting rid of those kinds of marks is worse than trying to wash spaghetti off of a white shirt.”

“I’m going to assume you’re not too stupid and that you’re coming to the same conclusion as me - he got possessed magically, used all proper protection against demons, and then started summoning everything you described at random. Not sure why someone would do that through an amateurish vessel like this guy, but I’m neither a beginner nor incompetent, so I wouldn’t know,” Starlight turns to leave when Cromach says:

“Wait...” he frowns, “There’s more.”

“So get on with it,” Starlight rolls her eyes, “I haven’t got all day.”

“After the demons banished themselves-”

“Wait, what?” Starlight shoves a hoof into her mouth, snorting.

“Connie flaunted some of the divine power her contact with Harmony left in her, and the demons took it rather poorly, along with Bubbles’ unending search for her real father, and they used some mass holy banishment to get away from us. I know golden light those Celestia’s fanatics use when I see it.”

“Paladins considering Celestia holy is a fucking cherry on top of their already braindead cake, but let’s get on with the important stuff. Paladins are self-righteous morons who consider anything they don’t understand to be an unholy abomination, we all know that.”

“Bright Star wouldn’t agree with that, and he’s here this week.”

“He’s one of the few more open-minded ones, which I’d say is clear from him playing fetch with a fucking half-demon instead of trying to cut her head off. NOW GET ON WITH WHAT YOU REALLY WANT TO SAY BEFORE I GET UP AND LEAVE!”

As is painfully obvious, Starlight isn’t a nice changeling. Skilled at magic and incredibly experienced, but not nice.

“As I said, after the demons committed the equivalent of mass suicide regarding their physical bodies, the pocket dimension started breaking.”

“That happens when the power holding it together dissipates. Go on.”

“Something like a black shadow left the unicorn’s body, and escaped through one of the cracks.”

“That can mean anything, really. The only thing I can guess is that who or whatever possessed the baker was good enough to create a stable pocket dimension, and summon a bunch of demons at once even through a medium, which takes serious skill and raw power.”

“Could you do that?”

“Yeah, obviously. Wanna see?” her horn starts glowing as she glances at the baker who whimpers and looks away.

“Oh gods no,” Cromach sighs, “No, the important part happened afterwards. Some black creatures emerged from the cracks, and attacked us.”

“From inside the cracks which are a manifestation of a reality bubble breaking?” Starlight furrows her brows, “Hmmm… that’s way more interesting. How did the things look?”

“Like living shadows. Few simply looked like ponies. I hacked one of those and my axe passed clean through. When I summoned my divinity, it destroyed the creature completely. However, the other kind looked like big snakes with long, spindly arms and sharp claws. I attacked that one too, and I… I think it drained the divinity in my axe. It died too, though.”

“Bingo!” Starlight ruffles the feathers on Cromach’s chest, “Not a typical birdbrain are we?”

“Well, you know I’ve had my experience with eldritch beings.”

“Eldritch wouldn’t be the term I would use here, but close enough. What we call eldritch beings are creatures from distant stars which manifest their influence onto planets inhabited by intelligent life and- nevermind, I got carried away. These creatures you saw are what I know under the names shadow -yes, it’s basic but it works- and nishruu. Where they come from is somewhat of a mystery. They usually appear near unstable points in reality, but their structure doesn’t hint at them being from a different dimension, rather from someplace with completely different laws of reality.”

“Like… up is down or… time exists in clusters?” Cromach takes a wild guess.

Starlight blinks, clearly shocked more than a foal sticking a fork into an electric socket.

“That’s surprisingly close. More accurate idea would be the interchangeability between matter, will, and energy, though, and possibly a complete lack of time as we know it. Shadows are creatures of pure energy which however manifests in our world as mass, thus they have physical forms. The nishruu look the same to our eyes, but are completely different. They are more like… living holes that suck our kind of energy, which means life, electricity, magic, divinity, anything. To them there’s no or very little difference between those. The only thing I know is that they don’t retain it in any way we can measure. It just disappears. I’d like to tell you more, but there’s no research on this subject anywhere in the world. Every trace I’ve ever followed ends in a giant crater as if simply a part of the area went missing, and everything around collapsed on it. Sadly, that’s also true for any notes or crazy living researchers. I generally avoid experiments which have a high chance of wiping me and possibly all reality from existence, that’s called sanity.”

“Call me paranoid, but I don’t think the shadows attacking us was an accident.”

“I’d honestly say it was. Your, Bubbles’ and Contradiction’s divinity had to be like a lighthouse to those creatures when the pocket dimension started cracking.”

“Yeah, but this didn’t look to me as if someone was trying to remotely send a demon army into Manehattan. If I was really ready for a tin foil hat, I’d say that someone caused the demon infestation knowing that we would be the only force capable of semi-safely handling it, and that the pocket dimension was made to break down quickly after we got rid of them. That would leave three bearers of divinity in a position to be drained by those creatures. Can they actually drain it from someone just being there, or would we have to be actively using it?”

“Oh yeah. The nishruu are very rarely summoned when one wizard wants to nullify some other wizard’s protective magic. They have to be really pissed off each other to risk opening a rift to wherever those come from, not to mention that there’s always a chance that the nishruu will simply target the wizard in front of it.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yep. Did that to a guy before I knew what I was working with, and I’ve never done it since. As I said, I’m not messing with those before I figure out how to prevent the energy drain.”

“Well then, if you recall anything else, let me know. I’ll send someone to escort this guy home.”

“No problem. This actually turned out to be mildly interesting, so it’s not total loss. Oh, one last thing! I’ll be gone next week so if you need anything magical, you’ll have to rely on one of the amateurs around.”

“Sure, enjoy your vacation,” Cromach gestures to the baker, and takes his suppressor ring off, “Wait, one last thing, Starlight. Can you set up either some protective spell or an alarm in case these shadows appear here?”

“There already is an alarm for that. Negative plane creatures are notoriously easy to detect, if nothing else. It’s like looking for holes in a sheet of paper that are trying to eat the rest of the paper.”

***

While Cromach is busy downstairs with Starlight, up on the top floor of the mansion, Astray takes his armor off, and rubs his palms. It’s difficult to move the fingers of his right hand after having to block so many attacks with his sword.

“Ouch! Those demons sure packed a punch,” he starts slowly opening and closing his fist to help the blood flow. Thankfully, from the looks of it he doesn’t seem seriously hurt. A lot of bruises all over, and possibly a cracked rib or two, but considering what they were against, he got out in great shape. Granted, he’s still the one who got beaten up the most, but since he doesn’t have any superpowers or hasn’t been wrestling polar bears since birth, that’s to be expected.

“Arrrgh!” yells Anvil from the shower, “Why can’t we ever fight anything that’s easy to get out of my mane?! Damn demon bits! Ah, screw it!”

What follows is a completely nude minotaur storming out of the shower with shampoo still on her head who opens the single big window of the room, and sits on the windowsill, which with her size means half of her ass hanging out, if the term hanging can be used for buns of steel like those. Few appreciative whistles come from the training grounds around the mansion. It seems that some of the recent recruits still haven’t encountered what’s a common sight around the mansion by now.

Astray only gives Anvil a casual glance before getting out of his chair, and heading to the bathroom himself.

“And where do you think you’re going, twiggy?” Anvil smirks at him.

“I’d prefer not stinking up the room anymore than-” he realizes what Anvil means, and sighs, “I suppose we’re not excused from afternoon training because of something minor like a whole army of demons trying to kill us?”

“Of course! And then we’ll get a free massage and a cake with ‘Good job’ written on it,” the minotaur rolls her eyes, stands up from the sill, and stretches, showing the whole world outside her muscular back and Astray her front. Poor guy is so exhausted he can’t even enjoy the sight usually possible to create in other dimensions only with the help of some serious steroids, silicone, genetics, and preferably an act of some benevolent god, “Like Cross always says-”

“The baddies don’t wait for you to be fresh and ready before attacking!” Bubbles’ cheery voice comes from out of the window, showing the mare hanging outside by her forelegs, and peeking into the room, “Mister Cross says to come down, that everyone is already there. Wait, did I hear cake?”

“And what does sir Cromach always say about climbing up the mansion walls?” Anvil pulls flailing Bubbles by her ear into the room.

“Ow ow ow ow ow!” Bubbles drops on the floor, rubbing her head, but obviously unhurt, “...that it’s getting expensive having to call somepony every other week to paint over the claw marks...” she mutters.

“Good,” Anvil gives her clothes lying on the lower bunk of the bed which is hers an annoyed glare, “Ah screw it. Just the skirt.”

“And the blouse,” Astray adds, “Last week, the neighbor colt twisted his fetlock when Bubbles noticed him hanging from the top of the wall to spy on you and scared him, remember?”

“Serves that little creep right. It’s not my fault Antares keeps stripping me during every practice,” Anvil shrugs, but puts on the airy, white blouse which covers precisely nothing.

“You can’t blame him, can you?” Astray leads Bubbles and Anvil down through the red-carpeted hallways of the Silver Sun headquarters, “You’re quite something to look at.”

“Of course I am. It takes a lot of effort to maintain my strength in this lazy city,” Anvil crosses her arms on her bountiful chest, pushing everything way up, “But that colt shouldn’t have been hiding. I like it when others have the balls to admit they’re drooling over me. You should know the best.”

“Guilty as charged,” Astray smiles to himself. Anvil still hasn’t understood that her level of appreciation of openness and honesty is absolutely unique in the pony world. Refreshing and relaxing, certainly, but still unique. If anyone else walked up to a any other mare and said ‘I like the way your plot jiggles.’ they would immediately get either punched or greeted with loud screams of ‘Get away from me, creep!’. It must be a minotaur thing, or just an Anvil thing based on supreme confidence in her body and skills.

When they walk onto the gravel road outside, they head to the lawn on the right where there are already four other figures waiting for them.

“Huh, someone new?” Astray raises an eyebrow when he gets a clearer view of the four.

The most noticeable figure is a tall batpony, or someone attempting to look like a batpony by assuming the batponiest of batpony features. He’s all greying black, his eyes are red with slit pupils, his wings are leathery and a little too big and too menacing. Like pretty much everyone working for a combat organization like Silver Sun, the suspiciously-maybe-not-a-batpony is muscular, although definitely not bulky. What, however, is possible to feel from him even without any special powers is absolute confidence dwarfing Anvil’s like a star compared to a speck of dust. However, where Anvil openly flaunts everything she’s got, this pony’s quiet presence is overwhelming on its own. Horatio Cross, which indeed is his name for reasons too long to explain right now, would disagree with most of the assessment, though.

The second creature already observing the approaching group is a grey griffon with nothing particularly noticeable about him. Literally. Now, in reality he’s an ancient changeling who has recently been released from what can loosely be called a different dimension where he led a temple of griffon monks for about six hundred years. Not too surprisingly, he’s the Order’s expert on hand to hand, hoof to hoof, talon to talon, and any potential combination of those kinds of combat. Also, as mostly Anvil has had the chance to learn, he’s using his skills not for good, but for the perverted. The griffonized changeling’s name is Antares, he was part of changeling general Shadowstep’s original conquest of the Griffon Empire seven centuries ago. Somewhere out there, Cryo must be screaming beards into a pillow.

Number three, for once, is a completely real, blond-maned, white unicorn wearing the white, gold-foiled plate armor of the paladins. His full name is Bright Star the Third, and he’s here to help the Order with teamfight tactics while learning any possible new methods the paladins back in Canterlot could use to deal with unusual threats. He waves at Bubbles who darts off ahead to him and receives a quick scratching behind the ear. If age is relevant at this point, Bright Star is about hundred and fifty, but looks forty-ish thanks to extended lifespan granted by princess Celestia for his service in the paladin order.

The final equine is openly a changeling, yet he’s wearing paladin armor as well, which is something previously unseen. Of course, changelings have at times infiltrated the paladins, but this guy, nervously backing away from Bubbles giving him the widest smile she can, is a real paladin. Yep, it’s Ten, currently feeling seriously unlucky for having been brought here by Bright Star.

“Just pat her head, she doesn’t bite,” Bright Star chuckles, seeing Ten’s eyes open in horror as Bubbles walks up to him, tilts her head upwards, and simply stands there, grinning, “She’s just a little part pony, part demon without any formal education but with enough love for the whole world.”

When Ten just stands there, paralyzed, Bubbles only nuzzles his foreleg, and returns to Bright Star, her tail whipping around at random. The poor horrified infiltrator remains frozen, recalling Comfort’s needle-like teeth. Bubbles’ smiling mouth is worse. Maybe it’s just the overlay of cuteness.

“Let’s get down to business,” says Cross when everyone’s gathered, “Anty, have fun with Anvil. I’ll start with Astray. Contradiction will join us later for the team practice. Bright Star, Ten, you go play with Bubbles.”

Ten dies inside a little bit.

They all split up according to Cross’ instructions. Anvil cracks her neck as she faces Antares.

“I might be tired, but I won’t make it easy for you, you old perv,” she smirks.

“Everything worth doing is difficult,” the griffon quips back, standing up on his hind legs with zero trouble, and punches the air with both forelegs in succession.

Anvil’s low kick doesn’t surprise him as he simply takes a step back. She transforms her movement into a lunge followed by a punch. Antares spins around her outstretched arm, and cuts the back of her blouse with his talon in half. From her lunged position, Anvil simply shifts her weight back on her back leg, and swings backwards with her elbow, catching Antares already backing off in the ribs. That’s a lot of backs.

“Ooof,” the griffon smiles, “Not a bad blow. A little on the weak side, but you’re getting better at moving from position to position without wasting time. You’re still slow, though.”

Last year, and possibly even several months ago, that comment might have riled Anvil up, but now she just darts towards Antares with a quick one-two punch. The griffon opts to block the fast jabs this time with both forelegs. That proves to be a mistake which takes even him by surprise. Antares is fairly big for a griffon, and with his experience he would barely feel the blows anyway.

Weight, however, is something he can’t fake without shapeshifting, and while the jabs would be blockable from anyone else, Anvil’s punch fueled by her muscles coiled like steel industrial springs sends the griffon flying through the air. As Antares flaps his wings to stabilize his involuntary impression of a meat comet, Anvil is already in front of him, arm cocked back for a blow even he wouldn’t simply shrug off.

She underestimates his reaction time. Whether by some changeling enhancement or simply combat sense beyond her ability to understand, Antares knows exactly what’s going on, presses his wings tightly to his body, and drops down like a rock, making Anvil’s wide right hook go way above him. This time, as he’s under her, he cuts the belt holding Anvil’s skirt, leaving the minotaur completely naked with only the remnants of the blouse on each of her arms.

Anvil tries to stomp on him immediately, but her raised leg only means he can quickly roll from between her legs, and kip up back onto both hind legs with a smile.

“Come on, I know you can do better,” the griffon grandmaster taunts her, “I need to tire you out before we move onto the oil wrestling part of the training.”

“If you want to cup a feel, grandpa,” Anvil takes a deep breath to regain her focus for another exchange, “then you’ll have to try harder.”

As they resume the match between strength and skill, Astray parries a flying dagger while a rapier stabs at where his throat was fraction of a second ago. Cross advances on him. This being Astray’s defensive round of the practice, his goal is to prevent Cross from harming him with a growing number of levitating weapons as well as letting the instructor touch him.

Cross is going easy on him, Astray knows that. Cross always goes easy on everyone. He has to. Despite that, the satyr eventually misjudges the fourth weapon joining the three he’s already dealing with, and freezes as he feels a combat dagger number two softly dig into his lower back exactly between the plates of his armor, and the chain mail underneath wouldn’t stop a surprise stab of any reasonable strength.

It’s been less than five minutes, sweat is pouring in rivers under his armor, and he’s practically choking for breath. However, he is still standing, which is something he couldn’t do consistently during his first year in the Silver Sun.

Cross smiles, clearly not bothered by Astray’s failure.

“Good job,” he says calmly, “You’re getting better at using your armor to ignore blows from small blades while focusing on the real threats. I finished this with a dagger to teach you not to get complacent, though. You need to move in a way which would make it unlikely for a surprise attack with a quick weapon to find a weak spot.”

“Yes… sir...” Astray manages to groan, “I’ll do better… next time… sir...”

“If some demon army doesn’t mess with your ability to endure my training again, I don’t doubt you in the least,” the practice weapons casually floating around Cross disappear in a flash. Instead, he summons only a singular sword which the satyr would consider two-handed, “So, ready for your offensive round?”

Astray knows that the question isn’t really a question at all. With his short sword in his right arm and a pistol in his left, Astray straightens up and assumes a combat position.

Astray’s swing is easily blocked by the flying sword, which was obviously going to happen. However, he quickly unloads a bullet at Cross’ forehead. Internally, he curses as his head catches up with his reflexive attack. Shooting at something Cross can move is a waste of ammo. Of course he doesn’t even see the “batpony’s” movement, only a shower of dirt in the back as the bullet hits the ground.

Disengaging with a backwards jump, Astray fires three times at Cross’ chest. One shot slightly to the right, one to the left, and one to the center. He has nowhere to move without getting hit or teleporting. Cross remains still. The central bullet goes ‘clink’ against the blade of the razor-sharp greatsword, sliced neatly in two halves which knock the other two off course. Astray only sees three small explosions of light, and his jaw drops:

“Oh come on!” he facepalms. Unfortunately, with the handle of his pistol, “Ouch, damn!”

“Now now,” Cross chuckles, “No time for gawking. Reload and try again.”

With a sigh, Astray obeys.

“Again, again, again!” Bubbles jumps around Ten currently levitating six balls made of some rubbery material in the air, his eyes locked on Cross in utter disbelief. Absentmindedly, he throws the balls in the air, Bubbles’ pupils shrink, and the demonette begins that little dance with her behind which cats about to pounce do.

Ten doesn’t care.

He can sense it. He can sense that Cross is part changeling. What bothers him is that he can’t figure out what the other part or parts are. His experiences with previous One of Chrysalis’ hive as well as the new One of boss’ hive gave him a good idea what kind of power a changeling can reach…

...or that’s what he thought before seeing Cross in action.

He could deal with Antares being around. The changeling disguised as griffon has experience and wisdom no other living changeling possesses. Boss’ One would likely get her ass kicked by him even though Ten has seen One enhance her physical attributes beyond what Antares ever showed he could, but that’s just One’s glaring lack of overall combat skill. Cross, however… Ten literally cannot even imagine a situation in which his entire hive with the help of Comfort could survive making him their enemy.

The final ball doesn’t even hit the grass as Bubbles grabs it and puts it down by Ten’s forelegs where the other five are already stacked in a neat line.

“Do the shotgun now, mister!” Bubbles beams. Ten looks at Bright Star who levitates the balls, gathers them into one cluster, nods at Bubbles who walks about three pony lengths away, and then fires them ahead with all his might.

Bubbles jumps into the air, catching one ball with her belly, one with each leg, and one in the mouth. Of course, the balls which hit her hind legs that end in hooves rather than claws bounce off.

No, she kicks those off. One at Bright Star’s head and one at Ten’s. The senior paladin catches his while Ten gets smacked straight in the mouth.

“Focus, Ten,” Bright Star waves his foreleg in front of Ten’s face, “This is as much our practices as it is theirs.”

“WE’LL GET EATEN!” yelps Ten.

“Hey, Bubbles!” Bright Star calls out as the demonette spits out all the balls back on the grass, “It’s time you practice with Ten for real.”

“Neat!” she jumps up and boops Ten’s nose.

“Well, Ten. Grab your sword and focus. Your goal is to hit Bubbles,” Bright Star, still sitting on the grass, explains.

“Like… with a real weapon?” Ten furrows his brows, slowly levitating his sword, “You know this is a paladin blade right? Light and enchanted.”

“A normal weapon would have difficult time harming a part demon like Bubbles. This way she has to try. Don’t worry and just go on. Bubbles, you only dodge.”

“That’s way better than playing fetch!” Bubbles ducks under Ten’s swing.

Bright Star leans to Ten’s ear after few seconds of his futile attempts at attacking and shooting bolts of magic at the same time, saying:

“Don’t hold back. Trust me.”

Ten redoubles his efforts, and quickly realizes how slippery Bubbles really is. His best slashes get avoided, magic harmlessly hits the ground, and quite soon his continuous assault relents as a stab of pain from his forehead breaks his focus completely.

“Ow, damn!” he rubs his horn, “Sorry, I’m not used to using so much power so quick-” he nearly swallows his tongue when Bubbles lands on his back and starts nibbling on his ear. She’s so light! Like air with teeth. So many sharp teeth…

What he also realizes, though, is that there’s pure love trickling straight from Bubbles to him for no obvious reason.

She… likes him?

No.

She loves everyone around.

“You’re like Three… but terrifying,” he breathes out.

Bubbles hops down from him, looks up into his eyes, her ears droop, and her lower lip wibbles. Ten steels himself. Now this is a territory he’s familiar with.

“I may have fallen before Three’s puppy eyes, but you don’t stand a chance. You’re adorable as well as horrifying, and I stand by it.”

“Woohoo, I’m adorable!” Bubbles bounces up without seemingly any preparation, and licks Ten’s nose, “I win.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Bright Star chuckles, “Now stop messing around during training, and grab two balls.”

“If you said that within earshot of any member of my hive, you know what would follow, right?” Ten snorts.

Bright Star tosses two balls at Ten’s head, who telekinetically catches them.

“Now just move them and try to stop Bubbles from catching them.”

Ten immediately makes the balls float some four pony lengths in the air.

“Like thi-”

Bubbles jumps.

“-whattheactualholeareyou?!” his smug grin is replaced by furious scream as he’s suddenly holding the demonette hanging by one ball with her mouth and the other with both forelegs.

“Don’t underestimate her, I mean it,” Bright Star winks at Ten, “However, the point was to for you to move the balls, not to put them where she likely couldn’t reach. No cheating.”

With Bubbles crouched so much that her barrel is pressed against the ground, her tail whipping the air, and her eyes locked on the balls, Ten rubs his horn numb from exhaustion, and the exercise continues.

With Bright Star now free to look around, he notices Astray and Anvil lying on the grass, relaxing on their back each, Astray out of his armor, and Anvil, obviously, completely naked. A short way away, Cross is sparring with Antares who, while looking significantly better than any of the combatants before him, ends the same, but at least he lands one punch on Cross.

“Oh well, time for this old unicorn to get his ass kicked too,” Bright Star stands up, and approaches the duo locked in casual melee, “Cross, can you fit me into your busy schedule?”

“Oh sure,” the batpony somehow levitating things, using magic, and kicking ass of everyone doesn’t stop attacking Antares who’s blocking and dodging during the conversation, “You’re free to join at any point.”

Bright Star smiles to himself. An elite paladin with war experience like him being treated like a fresh recruit… and rightfully so. His sword flies up, the unicorn ready to get schooled.

Due to his endurance, Bright Star is able to last until an amused female voice says:

“How are the victims doing?”

Contradiction is standing over Astray, hoof casually placed on his chest. The satyr doesn’t look bothered in the least.

“Very well, considering the circumstances,” Cross nods with no hint of irony in his tone.

“Good,” she takes her hoof off of Astray, “Get up, and let’s do the teamfight practice.”

“Lucky mare not to have to go through this,” Ten whispers into returning Bright Star’s ear.

“She usually has to. Something must have come up,” the paladin whispers back, “She actually does a special training course on the off days as well.”

“And I thought my hive was crazy.”

“What are you two lovebirds whispering about?” Connie taunts them.

She, Anvil, Astray, and Bubbles spread out into a square with Connie in the back, Anvil in the front, Astray to the left and Bubbles to the right. In the meantime, Cross and Antares have joined the two paladins.

“Alright,” Cross raises his voice, and nods at Ten, “Since we have a newbie here, let’s do a quick recap. Neither Starlight nor Shadowstep will be joining today. Instead, we have Ten, a junior changeling paladin. Ten, what can you do?”

“I’ve gone through paladin training, and I have combat experience from the invasion of undead from Zebrica,” Ten underplays it a little, unwilling to mention fighting Twisted and the Vigil, “My preferred weapon is a sword weighted for telekinetic use, and basic fire magic.”

“Impressive,” says Cross, once again without any irony which Ten finds hard to believe, “Anty and I will have to limit ourselves a little less then. Now, Ten, the goal is to incapacitate all enemy members, or have them admit defeat. Don’t be afraid to use your weapon, we have proper healers ready, although we’ve rarely needed to call them.”

“Yeah,” Connie smirks, “We’ve died outright more times.”

“Uhh, what?” Ten blinks in confusion.

“Asskicking time!” Anvil flourishes her warmace, and Bubbles charges ahead.

Somewhere, Ten hears an explosion, but he’s experienced enough to know to trust his teammates. His trust proves to be warranted as he feels Bright Star’s supportive magic wrap around him, and without any doubt he opts to send his flying sword at Astray carefully advancing at him and-

Astray doesn’t shoot his pistol at Ten, but behind him at Bright Star. Ten feels the magic around him falter, and he has to turn his head in order to realize that Bubbles is already on the other paladin who has to defend himself. That’s where shared hive mind of changelings is so useful during battles. He wouldn’t get surprised by an attack like this. Ten knows he needs to regain initiative, and rushes at Astray to stop him from being able to take another shot at Bright Star.

The satyr doesn’t try to block the swing of Ten’s longer blade, instead he just redirects it enough to miss him. Pushing the offense, Ten shoots a ball of fire from his horn which Astray blocks with his hand, only hissing as the hot air disperses around him.

Right, paladin armor. He’ll be somewhat protected from magic like I am.

In the back, Bright Star’s personal magic barrier shatters under the slash of Bubbles’ claws. The paladin instinctively backs off. What he doesn’t expect is Bubbles’ speed as she trips him up by slipping under him before he can lower his hoof again. The demonette pounces on his side, and-

-gets unceremoniously punted away by Antares using Anvil’s slower approach for darting backwards and helping Bright Star. The minotaur realizes her mistake, and turns it to advantage by charging at Ten from the side.

He has to block the swing of her mace with his sword, the blow making him feel as if his horn cracked there and then. Through sudden burst of tears, Ten backs away, only to feel Bright Star’s protective magic shatter under a barrage of bullets from Astray’s pistol. Those aren’t simple bullets he’s using. There has to be something specifically tailored to deal with magic in them.

Antares catches Bubbles already pouncing at him again by her foreleg, and uses her own force to spin around and fling her away one more time. Bright Star gets back up, and sees Ten currently being punched by Anvil, which isn’t something anyone wants to live through more than once. Bright Star’s horn flashes, and the impact merely momentarily dazes newly protected Ten instead of knocking him out.

Astray unloads three more shots at rapidly approaching Bright Star to buy him and Anvil some time. Ten, however, doesn’t have any time despite the older paladin’s protection. As if all previous training didn’t happen, Anvil is continuously bearing down on Ten with her mace, forcing him to dodge, because blocking isn’t an option.

The changeling tunnels on her too hard, and completely misses Astray quickly aiming his way and pulling the trigger two more times, which empties the clip of his pistol. Painful feedback from his own refreshed protective spell shattering is all Anvil needs at this point to swing her mace and smack Ten away like a golf ball. His armor holds, but he bounces off of the ground like a rock skipped across a lake.

Without skipping a beat, Anvil charges at Bright Star to give Astray more time to reload the anti-magic bullets.

In the back, Antares is locked in a dance of dodging Bubbles’ snapping jaws and claw swipes. However, he uses his much bigger size, and as he raises himself on hind legs, and predicts Bubbles’ charge ahead, he grabs her by her tail, and swings her in a circle over his head.

“Wheeeee!” yells the demonette happily, “But not this time!” she clamps her hind legs around Antares’ foreleg holding her tail, and curls up into a such tight ball that she turns around, and swipes at the griffon’s face scoring three deep grooves across his cheek, blood splattering everywhere. Antares stops swinging, which Bubbles uses to crawl on the back of his neck, and dig her claws into his neck. Even a changeling of his caliber likely wouldn’t survive a completely severed head with his enemies still around, which makes already healed Antares tap out with an appreciatory pat of Bubbles’ head.

Bright Star ends the same way as Ten, his magic gradually weakened by Astray’s shots as he has to defend himself from Anvil’s heavy assault.

“Alright, fillies! Show’s over, we lost,” Antares calls out.

The world stops swimming in front of Ten’s eyes, and he stares at the battleground in disbelief. The explosions he heard weren’t some grenades or shots from Astray. It was the fight between Cross and Contradiction leaving giant, deep craters and scars dotting the battleground. For the first time, there is a serious expression on Cross’ face while Connie is grinning from ear to ear, sweat pouring down the sides of her face.

“Does... this... usually happen…?” Ten chokes out.

“Not really,” replies Cross, without even breathing faster, “Usually we win. I guess Anty and I held back a bit too much. Good job all around,” he looks at the holes everywhere with an evil smirk, “And we did great job setting things up for recruit physical exercises tomorrow. They always enjoy some landscaping.”

As everyone gathers their things, Ten finds himself sitting on the ground, pondering what just happened.

I’m a war veteran. I’ve fought that Vigil guy, hordes of Twisted, and I just got demolished so hard I caused the breakdown of my whole team.

“AAAH!” he screams when he sees Bubbles’ beaming face after looking up, which is followed by her hugging him around the neck, and a fresh torrent of love.

“You know, I think I’m starting to like you,” Ten mutters, and finds his face being licked all over.

“Stop slobbering all over my protege, Bubbles,” says Bright Star with a chuckle, and Bubbles releases her victi- her new friend. He helps Ten get back on all fours, “Don’t let this bring you down. My first practice here was very similar, and those guys only met shortly before,” he nods to the backs of the leaving group.

“That’s not it...” Ten shakes his head, “I mean that too, but I could get over that. Antares and Cross, though. No, just Cross. What is he? I can sense his hive link, I can sense the love in him, and… I don’t know how to explain it to a non-changeling. He feels… infinite. Infinite in power, love, skill.”

Bright Star smiles.

“That’s what happens when you lose so many times and learn from each one until there are no more lessons left to learn,” the paladin leads the way back to the mansion, “Did that sound wise? I tried really hard.”

“I suppose so,” Ten sighs, “Guess I’ve got a lot of losing ahead of me.”

***

In the silence of his office on the top floor of the mansion, Cromach is sitting in a comfortable chair behind his desk, toying with a wine bottle imported from the Griffon Empire. Unlike two years ago when situation would be vastly different, the bottle remains corked, though. On the desk in front of him stands an incredibly lifelike bronze statuette of an alicorn with tiny sapphires for eyes and individual strands of platinum forged into mane and tail. Such craftsmanship must have cost a small fortune.

“What do you think?” asks Cromach either no one or the statuette, “Am I just paranoid?”

Alright, with the amount of magic in Equestria, there was a chance that the alicorn would reply, but it doesn’t.

“I think I’ll do it your way,” the griffon continues, “If I’m wrong, nothing happens. If I’m right, we’ll be ready.”

He pauses for a moment, and then chuckles. There’s no humor in it, though.

“As ready as we can be without you, I mean.”

Knocking on the door interrupts his monologue. The door opens without waiting for his answer. There’s only one pony who does that, and it’s Connie. The monochromatic mare enters, and puts a sealed metal scroll case on Cromach’s desk.

“From Canterlot, sir,” she salutes.

“You really need to pick either ‘sir’ or ‘Cromach’,” the griffon unscrews the case, and unrolls the scroll hidden inside.

“I’m trying to keep it professional in business setting. I don’t mind screaming your name in private,” she winks at him.

“Which reminds me, we should ask Starlight for a soundproofing spell. The recruits in rooms under ours complained they couldn’t sleep last time.”

“Can’t help it. For a guy whose last lover was a stallion, you know your way around the block,” Connie’s eyes dart to the alicorn statuette, “Sorry.”

Cromach waves his talons dismissively.

“I’m not going on a depressed drinking binge every time someone mentions him anymore. The bottle is more a reminder of what not to do,” he finishes reading the scroll, and rolls it back inside the case, “So, the two of us are invited to Canterlot for the royal summit. Why do you think that is, Connie?”

“For protection?” she hazards a fairly safe guess.

“In Canterlot? Surrounded by the whole paladin order, the Royal Guard, united orders of wizardry, and each invited ruler’s bodyguards. There’s way greater chance of a dragon ambassador accidentally eating someone, in which case we wouldn’t be involved anyway...” he muses for a moment, “Unless we choose to.”

“What do you mean?” Connie raises an eyebrow.

“That it’s just Celestia’s power play over Vargaz, trying to show that I’m more involved with Equestria than the Griffon Empire. Say… if we’re to protect the summit effectively, we need to take everyone from the Hoof of Fate.”

“Won’t the castle be full with all those foreign bigwigs visiting?”

“I’m playing Celestia’s game. Right now, I still have to. However, since I can’t tell her to just stuff another cake into her mouth, or to cut out the middle pony and ram it up her ass straight up, we’ll take our protection duty seriously. The least the princesses can do is scrounge up few more rooms. If someone other than Luna had at least half a brain inside that castle, Blaze might still be alive. It’s not as if we can do anything against a real divine threat without him.”

Connie leans over the desk, and softly strokes the griffon’s cheek.

“We’re training as hard as we can. We’re much better than when we faced the Vigils and Harmony.”

“And ask yourself for real. What would have changed if who you are now was on that pyramid instead of old you? Void would have needed Discord’s help anyway. Scream would have died anyway. Blaze would still be the only one whom the god would even see, and I wouldn’t have been able to fight Blinding Light without Discord anyway. We would have killed all the original Vigils faster, and then what?”

“We...” Connie doesn’t have an answer, so she sighs, “We need a real unicorn, sir. I can’t use magic, I will never be able to. Starlight is our specialist, but she works for herself, not you. If we had someone knowledgeable about the theory of magic, not some half-assed battlemage, they might have been able to close the rift and stop the god from coming.”

“But those always go crazy from the mercury fumes...” Cromach pats her head, “Ignore my grumbling, Connie. We’ll do all we can, because that’s, well, all we can do, really. If we have to face something that’s just punched through all paladins and guards, then we’ll do it, no matter how ineffective we would be.”

“If you’re really that worried, wouldn’t it be better to take Shadowstep’s changelings with us rather than Anvil, Astray, and Bubbles?”

“Nice alphabetical sorting. And no, they wouldn’t go. They work for us because they believe we’re the best chance at stopping or softening the gods’ meddling. They don’t want to be political pawns for anyone. I prefer having them here anyway.”

Connie nods.

“When are we leaving, sir?”

“In the evening,” orders the griffon, “Go inform everyone and reserve the tickets.”

“Will do.”

After a quick salute, Connie leaves. Cromach boops the alicorn statuette with a talon.

“We’re lying to ourselves that we’d be able to do even a thousandth of what we could do with you. Let’s keep that lie going then, shall we?”

***

Astray isn’t bothered by any of the deep fears of his superiors. His current fear is that his legs will give out as he’s standing in the shower. After the rough training, the warm water just feels so good it can’t be legal.

“There you are!” Bubbles barges into the bathroom, completely unbothered by the naked satyr. In fact, she stops and looks him up and down, “You got beat up pretty bad,” she adds, taking in the blue bruises all over him.

The suite the members of the Silver Sun specialist unit called Hoof of Fate mostly for fun inhabit these days is vastly different from the one they had as recruits, mainly in size, which means that the walk-in shower can very easily fit the satyr as well as the demonette who joins him, sitting down with her back to him.

“You know that you can take all the time you want in here after I’m out,” Astray comments, squirting shampoo on his legs and massaging it into his grey fur.

Bubbles shuffles closer.

“I like showering with you because you can do me from the back,” she rubs her back against his leg.

“Was that an innuendo?” asks Astray. You can never be sure with Bubbles.

“Mhm, but it’s true too!” she turns around, looks up, measures the distance, then jumps up and kisses Astray’s nose with the precision of a sniper. Unfortunately, she lands on the shower floor slippery from the champoo, and slides head-first into the wall.

“Oh Celestia, are you okay?” Astray picks her up. Bubbles blinks out of sync, shakes her head, and presses her lips against his. A moment later she clamps all four legs around him. In response, Astray grabs her by her tight backside, and not only because it’s the best way to hold her up, judging by his fingers digging into the rusty coat.

“I leave you two alone for few minutes, and you decide to hog all the fun,” Anvil, naked as usual, enters the bathroom without any regard for running water and it obviously being occupied, “Nothing for poor hot me?”

Astray clamps his hands over his crotch awakened by Bubbles’ sloppy kissing. The demonette kicks herself off of him, and twists in the air to land on Anvil in the same position. The minotaur endures first few Bubbles’ kisses, and then tries to twist her head to avoid more slobber, which Bubbles uses to immediately begin motorboating Anvil’s breasts.

“Blbrlbrlrblrbrl!”

“You’ve turned out to be quite the little perv,” Anvil comments, resisting the incessant tickling, “didn’t you?”

Bubbles looks up at her, beaming.

“Half-succubus, or third… or… did we figure out the earthpony math in the end?”

Anvil looks at Astray unable to control his imagination anymore, his hands not being enough to cover his equipment anymore, especially when she puts her hand on her hip and stretches her leg into a side lunge.

“What does she have that I don’t?” Anvil turns around and sticks her massive round booty out at the satyr.

Bubbles calls out from the top of her lungs:

“Big teeth and cute, fluffy ears!”

“Agreed,” says Connie flatly from the bathroom door.

“Is this a shower or a corporate boardroom?!” Astray rams his hands tighter into his crotch.

Anvil strikes a sexy pose with one hand on her hip and one pointing her nipple at Connie. Bubbles drops off of the minotaur, and jumps at the unicorn who catches her in a telekinetic grip and lets her just hang there.

“Wanna shower with us, miss Connie?” floating in the air doesn’t bother her at all. In fact, she flaps her forelegs, “Wheeee!”

“I’ll pass,” she says, her eyes betraying her and running over both Anvil and Astray, “Now, we’re leaving for Canterlot in the evening. I’ll go buy tickets and come back with them later. Grab a bite of something.”

“Will do,” Astray salutes, leaving himself uncovered under Connie’s scrutinizing stare.

She hums to herself, then shakes her head.

“Nah, size is fine, but I prefer something with more bumps and ridges,” she laughs as Astray realizes what she means and clamps his hands over himself again.

“Don’t bash it till you’ve tried it, miss Connie,” Bubbles sticks her tongue out at her, and Connie lets her drop freely.

“And that mouth beats a beak any time,” adds Anvil, much to Astray simply giving up and covering his tomato-red face.

Connie, clearly unimpressed, turns to leave.

“Griffon tongue is three times as long and completely prehensile.”

Anvil measures the satyr up and down.

“Well, that kills your usefulness completely. We’re trading you off for a griffon as soon as we can.”

“Please, kill me,” Astray shuts off the water, and finally wraps a towel around himself.

“Should have run when you had the chance,” Connie leaves with a grin.

About twenty steamy, both literally and figuratively, minutes later, Astray is lying on his back with Bubbles under his head like a pillow on the carpet when Anvil comes out of the bathroom as well, having taken a lot longer to towel herself off. Nothing family unfriendly happened, only a lot of teasing.

“Yo, I need a massage,” says Anvil, spreading a bigger towel on the carpet and lying down on her back as well with a hiss.

Astray knows better than to argue, and digs his fingers into Anvil’s neck, slowly moving lower. With the harshness of their regular training, good massages are the only way to avoid permanent damage, and Anvil taught him all she knows regarding physical therapy, and she reads a lot. This is no time for perving around, no matter how tempting it might be. He still hesitates before starting to knead her breasts, which she notices immediately.

“You’ve already reamed both of us enough times, idiot. Are you waiting for an invitation to massage me properly?” she rolls her eyes, “You know I’m mostly joking about that inadequacy stuff these days, I’ve trained you well.”

With a deep breath, discipline returns to Astray’s mind as he does his best to relax Anvil’s muscles, which Bubbles tries to help with when Anvil turns on her belly by stomping on her back. The lightweight demonette jumping on the strong minotaur’s back is about as effective as a cat preparing a pillow to sleep on, but no one tries to stop her.

***

Unlike the changelings, the Silver Sun members board their train in an orderly fashion, and settle down in their booth inside the common car. There are many other ponies in their booths on the sides of the car, their chatter forming a pleasant background to Anvil and Astray slowly dozing off on a bench with Bubbles draped over their laps.

[This train will be leaving for Canterlot in five minutes.]

The announcement from the train intercom is followed by an earthpony in a booth across the aisle quickly standing up, and mumbling:

“Wait, Canterlot? I didn’t want to go to Canterlot,” he rushes towards the nearest exit of the train, “Damn it, they sold me the wrong ticket...”

The train begins moving soon after, and silence spreads through the car as darkness outside the window deepens. Cromach finds his eyes closing, spurred by soft breathing coming from Connie’s head on his shoulder. The lights inside the car grow dimmer to let those onboard sleep through the overnight trip.

Something stirs in the shadows, and Cromach’s eyes immediately narrow, his head clearing up instantly.

He blinks.

As his eyes open again, there’s a black shadow akin to a floating robe standing above him.

“We have unfinished business, agent Cromach.”

The griffon can’t move, can’t speak, can’t do anything other than blink. And yet, he’s not scared. He’s lost too much to be scared by anything anymore.

Divine power from within him flares up, and with a crackle of green lightning he swipes up with his talons, breaking his rigidity.

Nothing.

The shadow was never there.

Connie is still asleep, and so is everyone else.

“Sleep paralysis? Nerves?” he mumbles, “Am I just on edge from the summit?”

He closes his eyes, ears perked for any unusual noise. When nothing happens, he decides to pretend that he’s asleep with no result. No ominous shadows, no indeterminate voice which might as well be just in his head.

After some pondering, he opts to apply the wisdom of his later lover - he can never prepare for all the ways the world will try to kick him in the nuts, all he can do is wear the toughest suspensor on the market.

3: Onwards to TOURISM!

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My nose has been practically glued to the train window since we cleared the western forest surrounding mount Canterlot. I feel more and more uneasy as the panorama of the twin cities grows closer. Last time saw Canterlot like this, we were fleeing from paladins and the wrath of the princesses, albeit from a different angle. Returning here, even under vastly different circumstances, I can’t help feeling this is a trap.

Gem is sitting across the window table from me, watching me with a smile on her muzzle while I can feel her looking out of my eyes. Eleven is still asleep all over the overhead compartment, not even single body keeping watch. One is leaning on me, drooling on my shoulder while Three is curled up in her lap.Two is stretched on her belly on the bench next to Gem, and Cryo is snoring loudly on the floor, legs stretched into all directions like one of those wolf pelt rugs the minotaurs use.

[We will be arriving to Lower Canterlot in five minutes.]

“Everyone, wake up!” I poke those few still asleep via their mental links as the train announcement stops, “We’re almost there.”

Rustling from above, and a short rain of changelings announces Eleven ready to start the new day. One blinks, looks down at my chitin sticky from her saliva, and sticks her tongue out to lick it off. Two pushes herself up, her jaw drops, and she jumps on Cryo’s back while propping herself with her forelegs on the window table.

“I thought Brauheim was something, but this...” she’s completely at loss for words as she stares at the city ahead, “It’s… your memories didn’t do it justice, seriously. Which part is Canterlot, anyway?”

“In my defense, the last time I saw the twin city like this, it was night and we had different things on our mind,” I pat her head. Her tongue sticks out before she realizes it and withdraws it. It’s a happy changeling reflex, “Well, both cities are Canterlot, only the lower part is for the more common folk while the upper city is where the royalty and nobility live.”

“Common ponies live in the upper city too,” Gem adds, “Generally those who work in high-end establishments or serve the nobility.”

Two suddenly bumps her head against the ceiling as Cryo simply pushes herself upwards, blinks, and stares at the city getting closer with each second. I can sense only the faintest twinges of memories from her, fragments, not even full images. The smell of fire here, a hint of clashing steel and voices there, but nothing that would paint anything even remotely resembling a picture. She shakes her head, challenging Two’s balance, and remains silent. I get the feeling that I know more of the siege of Canterlot from the rulers’ memories than she can recall.

“Are you feeling okay, Cryo?” I ask only her.

“Aaah, voices in my head! Who’s that?!” is her panicky answer before she blinks, “Oh, you, boss beard. I’m not the brightest in the morning… nor at any point these days, really,” she shakes her head, “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just getting the feeling that this place should be intensely familiar, that’s all. So… this is the place where it all went wrong… or right, depending on how you think about it.”

“I only know what little I remember from the rulers’ memories, and from what you told Two before your old self faded. I was hoping you’d recall something.”

“Well, I know I saw a sight like this at some point in my life, that’s all. Maybe something will float to the surface later. Or maybe it won’t. It doesn’t matter, really. I think you understand.”

“I do,” I look around the coupe at the waking changelings in various state of yawning. Eleven is already standing on the window table, face pressed against the window and mouth open wide.

We both have everything we need right here, no matter what happens on the summit. Although it would still be nice to have the official “You won’t be hunted by paladins” sticker.

“This place makes me want to punch someone...” comments One without any ire in her voice, “Everyone, and I’m looking at you, Eleven,” she pouts at the final Eleven trying to slide open the window from the overhead compartment, “Stop messing around and let’s get ready to go.”

“We still have some half an hour,” Gem corrects her, “Our tickets are for upper Canterlot, not the lower city.”

“If it’s not a problem, I’d like to take a walk through the city,” I say, “We didn’t get much chance for sightseeing last time we were here. You said you planned this so that we’d arrive a day earlier.”

“That’s not… the best idea,” Gem thinks for a second, “As a diplomatic guest, there should be at least one Royal Guard with you just in case. It would be better if we reported to the castle, received the official retinue, and then took a tour of the city.”

“I… kind of want to visit some places we used to live in, and get reacquainted with the city. I’d prefer not dragging some pony official with me through the sewers and stuff.”

“Boss, if anything happens to anyone attending the summit-”

“What could happen that we couldn’t deal with and some random guard could?” One tilts her head, “I can protect daddy here from anything short of divine intervention.”

“I give you that,” Gem is still pouting, “but can you defend dad and anyone else who could be caught in the crossfire? Can you avoid any collateral damage? Because if any civilian gets hurt and dad is nearby, you can be sure that will be diplomatically on his head. A simple Royal Guard or some EIS undercover agent could be a witness to any accident and testify that you didn’t cause it.”

“Does anyone even know who is coming to the summit?” I interrupt One already opening her mouth to answer, “I mean, to everyone we’ll just be a bunch of changelings wandering around the city, which isn’t supposed to be a problem these days, is it?”

Gem ponders that for a moment.

“I suppose that’s true...” she sighs, “Look, dad. I’m just worried about you. I want this to go smoothly. I mean, if things go well, we might go around Equestria to see the sights, we might even visit Las Pegasus together again.”

One leans over and nuzzles Gem’s nose.

“I’ll be as diplomatic as I can, Gem,” she says, “No punching unless I get punched first, and even then I’ll think twice.”

“If you really want to have a look around, you know I can’t stop you, so I’ll ride ahead and inform the officials about your arrival,” she claps her hooves together, and levitates a pouch from her big backpack, “I almost forgot, here are some bits for expenses in case you want to partake in the festivities. The city should be full of visitors from all over the world, and both local and foreign merchants will have shops and stands open.”

The train slows down and stops.

“You can just leave the same way you boarded,” Gem adds a quick pointer, “No one is checking the tickets outside.”

I give Gem a quick hug as One leads everyone out, trying to maintain order, which is difficult in the small space of the hallway despite Cryo’s best efforts at not pushing anyone.

[We’ve arrived at the lower Canterlot station.]

“Have fun, dad,” Gem lets go, “And one final thing. You must think of a name. I mean boss, dad, and anything we or the dwarves use won’t suffice for official business. I’ll present you as king of the north, but you’ll have to meet other officials, and etiquette dictates that you be addressed by your full name and title.”

Oh holes…

“I’ll figure something out, Gem,” with a smile, I leave her alone in the coupe, and walk outside through the now mostly emptied train.

The train station is very similar to the one in the Crystal Empire, actually, without all the sparkle and shine, of course. And bigger… a lot bigger. I can see five more platforms, and the distant milling and sounds of heavy machinery moving tell me there must be more. The whole design is just one huge roof made of metal and glass held by dozens of pillars on each platform with empty space above the train tracks. Stands with food and souvenirs are scattered all over the place, although with enough space around not to disrupt the flow of passengers coming in or out too much.

Thankfully, while this place is completely packed, the fact that I, One, and Cryo are significantly taller than all ponies around is helping orientation a lot. Three is on my back, Two on Cryo’s, and Eleven is already distributed on every little bit of empty space on us.

“Guys, let’s go outside and see what’s around before we rush off,” I order, pushing through the crowd. Our sizes, especially Cryo’s, are enough to make our passage bearable, and we’re soon outside in the fresh air…

...and horrible heat.

“I’m meltiiiiiiing!” Cryo yells while covering her eyes. With a ‘hmph!’, ice crystals form on her body, “Much better.”

Two hugs her neck, and lets out a relieved sigh as the melting ice trickles down her carapace. Elevens jump off, and start licking her everywhere they can reach.

“I’m gonna have to figure out a transformation for this,” One furrows her brows, “I haven’t been in a scorching heat like this for years. Not counting magma streams under Brauheim.”

“Let’s find some shade and figure out what we want to do,” I switch into hive mind speech, “Stay connected. I got some gold from Gem so that we can mess around a bit. Feel free to explore in the meantime.”

“Neat!”
“IS THAT A BEARDING DRAGON?”
“Let’s see if Eleven can fly if we tie enough balloons to him!”
“Yay, we can!”

Aaaand everyone but One is gone. Three is floating over the crowd with Eleven using him as eyes, and Two is riding off on Cryo’s back.

“I don’t mind some peace and quiet,” after strolling through the streets for a while, watching the milling, One leads me off into a shady alley, “I must admit that what Gem said is making me nervous, but I wouldn’t deprive anyone of the spectacle everywhere in the city. It’s quite lively compared to the last time.”

“Worried you can’t protect me on your own?” I boop her, she snickers.

“Oh yeah, definitely, dummy,” she smacks my forehead, but her soft smile fades, “But not without collateral damage, no. This… this is important. We have a chance of smoothing things up with the princesses, to finally find personal peace. I can protect you, but by protecting you in the wrong way, I might doom everything you stand for. Now that I think about it, it might have been better if Five was here and I was back underground. She doesn’t blow up as easily as I do.”

“You’ll do well.”

“But what if-”

“You’ll do well.”

“I might-”

“You’ll do well.”

”I don’t know if I should be angry at you not taking this seriously, or happy that you trust me so much,“ she frowns.

“Well, it’s you, so you should focus on the part that doesn’t make you mad,” I smirk.

“I’m about to opt for the choke you option,” she shakes her head.

“Honey, I believe in you,” I run my hoof through her messy mane, “And leave the choking for later when we have our own room.”

She playfully punches my shoulder.

“So what are your orders, my king and nighttime jackhammer? Do we partake in the festivities? I’ve always wanted to hoof wrestle a dragon, and I’ve noticed few of those at the station as well.”

“There’s one place I want to check out more than anything,” I say and strengthen my mind links. I’m not sure how far I can reach the others, but communication feels a lot easier in the open air. We’ll just head back if we lose contact, “And it’s not like we’re missing out on anything, since everyone else is running around like crazy.”

A feeling of panic and pure horror from one hive link rushes over me out of nowhere, and I bolt, One in tow.

***

“MY EYES HURT!” Cryo lets out a frustrated roar which makes ponies around jump, but when nothing else happens, they go on with their business, which is, well, business really.

She and Two are walking down a long promenade full of shops on the sides and stands lined up in its center. Unfortunately, there are no trees or pillars other than public lamp-posts to shield her from the merciless sun, so while her ice magic is keeping her cool, she’s squinting and mostly focusing on not accidentally stomping on anyone. Two can relate, even though she did visit Crystal Empire more often and is used to daylight. There’s just too much of everything around - bright colors, bright ponies unlike the dwarves, loud shouting everywhere which is much worse than the markets in Brauheim. Her head is spinning already.

Suddenly, Two realizes that Cryo has stopped, and is narrowing her eyes at a unicorn stallion in front of her, levitating articles of clothing.

“Help, little beard, I’m being business’d!”

“You two look hot, lovely changeling ladies!” he’s yelling enthusiastically, “That black chitin must draw sunlight something fierce. I’ve got just the right stuff for you.”

This is the first time Two is seeing clothes not made of metal or leather, and is having trouble deciding whether the apparent thinness of the T-shirt the unicorn is waving in front of Cryo and her is by design for weather like this, or whether it’s just incredibly shoddy craftsmanship.

“How does additional clothing help us cool down?” asks Two.

“WHAT?” yells the unicorn over the crowd, “Speak up, young lady!”

“HOW DO WE GET COLDER BY WEARING MORE STUFF?” Cryo likely deafens the salespony and everyone in the vicinity.

As the unicorn’s eyes uncross and he rubs his head, he waves over to his shop. Two jumps down and enters while Cryo remains outside, only her lowered head peeking through the door frame. Even with the door open, it’s much quieter here.

“White reflects sunlight the best,” the unicorn smiles at Two looking around the shop filled with piles of folded clothes, some displayed on stands with various pictures, and strange black eyewear, “I don’t have anything magical or enchanted, but those things never last long. If you want summer clothes, you’ve come to the right shop.”

“Thank you for the offer, but we don’t have any money,” Two shoots him down politely. Diplomacy first, “My dad has everything we got for the trip with him.”

“That’s a shame-” the unicorn suddenly stops, smile spreading on his muzzle, “Although… would you be interested in a deal? Or namely your tall friend.”

“What would it be?” asks Two, instantly suspicious.

“A promotion!” the unicorn stomps his hooves, “I give you some clothing for free, and you’ll walk around wearing it and occasionally call out where you got it. That’s all.”

“No fine print?” Two narrows her eyes.

“Nope! Of course, the promotional stuff isn’t of the best quality, but if you want the finest pieces, you know where to buy those. Wait, no, one more thing - he quickly scribbles something on a big sheet of paper with a string attached.”

“Summer wear sale - forty-five percent off at Blue Skies’ emporium. Hundred and twenty-seven Cobalt st,” reads Two, “That’s… an address, right?”

“Mhm,” the unicorn- Blue Skies nods, “Just hang this around your friend’s neck so that everypony can see it.”

“Aaand then we can have your stuff for free. No one will be chasing after us?” asks Two, still suspicious. Granted, getting things for free was rather common in Brauheim, simply because everyone knew that changelings never wanted much and were openly part of the ruling class, but here she can’t help but feel that she’s missing something, which isn’t a good thing for an infiltrator. However, one look at the water trickling down Cryo’s neck as the ancient queen tries to lick her own wet forelegs is persuasive enough, “You know what? Deal! If you have anything that would help Cryo feel a little more at home here, I’m game. We’re from the north, and this weather isn’t pleasant by far.”

“Excellent!” the unicorn beams, and starts running around. First, he tosses a white T-shirt to Two, who puts it on. It’s somewhat loose, but feels pretty nice. Maybe she misjudged the unicorn when she thought he was just some charlatan. The T-shirt has a picture of the sun on it, and two half-moons with writing “Sun’s out, buns out!” underneath. Two furrows her brows when she finally realizes what it’s supposed to mean. Next, she gets some elastic band with a firm white square on one side.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Eyeshade. Put it around your forehead, with the rim above our eyes.”

Two does so, and immediately blinks. That is neat!

“Hmmm...” the unicorn hums, “I don’t think I have anything in your friend’s size, unless… well… you don’t mind looking a little risque?”

“Que?” Cryo tilts her head.

“That means lewd,” Two explains, unsure what lewd Cryo would look like.

“I looted stuff before!”

“I’ve got this XXXXXL sundress,” the unicorn levitates something which could comfortably cover a filled cart, “It’s billowy and fairly see-through, but don’t think it’s any worse than the T-shirt I gave you.”

“Never crossed my mind...” comments Two. Her intended sarcasm isn’t fair, though. The clothes are reasonably well done, and if they really help in this blistering weather, it will be worth it to look somewhat silly.

An attempt to put the dress on Cryo proves that there indeed is a way to make the ancient queen look indecent without trying. It’s spandex-tight on her, reaching just under her forelegs like a sports bra, and since Cryo’s chitin is constantly wet, in addition to her long, wet mane clinging to her neck it creates a show-off effect Two has never associated with her aunt.

“Oh my...” the gawking unicorn looks taken aback as he’s standing outside his shop after putting the sundress on Cryo is finished, “Sorry for staring, miss.”

“I’m not sure it’s working,” Cryo pokes her chest.

“It’s not exactly covering enough for you, miss,” the unicorn clears his throat, and darts back inside. A moment later her returns with a long, white skirt, “This might help.”

Of course, the skirt is long by the definition of a pony. On Cryo, it looks…

As the warrior queen flicks her tail, the unicorn blushes and rushes back into his shop. Likely to cool down. A mare nearby puts a hoof over one staring colt’s eyes. To be blunt, it looks like a tight mini-skirt on Cryo, squeezing about three quarters of her massive muscular booty so that the rest below the skirt bulges outwards when she’s relaxed. Combined with the instant wet effect, it’s no wonder that stallions passing by are turning their heads and staring.

Cryo shifts her legs, and the skirt tears on the side, which doesn’t help anything.

“I broke it...” she comments, looking back, “Do we call the boss to pay?”

“O-Oh d-d-don’t w-worry about t-t-that,” Blue Skies is levitating a wide-brimmed white had, standing slack-jawed, “...this is going to boost sales thousandfold...” he mutters to himself. Of course, Two can hear him, and the corner of her mouth curls up when she notices a faint gathering of lust everywhere around, “And this,” as Blue Skies finally gathers himself, he levitates the white hat on Cryo’s head.

“I’m still blind...” mumbles Cryo.

“We can fix that!” Blue Skies is longer inside this time, and pulls out a pair of the biggest sunglasses with string that definitely wasn’t originally part of them attached in the back. He levitates it to Cryo who puts them on.

“HA!” she beams, teeth as long as Blue Skies’ whole skull is high visible for all the world to see. She grabs the unicorn and pulls him into a very careful hug which means he only groans for a while and his eye bulge before putting him back down, “I can see again! In your face, Celestia!” she shakes her hoof to the sky, much to the laughter of few onlookers gathering around to see what the show is.

“Can I get a pair too?” asks Two. In response, she gets the sheet of paper with the address around her neck, and then Blue Skies dives inside his shop, accompanied by five customers, “Nevermind...”

“I like the respect they treat us with,” Cryo waves at a staring stallion who blushes, quickly waves back, and rushes off, “It makes diplomacy easier. No need to siege this city to teach the ponies a lesson.”

“Dad wouldn’t let you do that anyway...”

“True, but it still makes the stay here more pleasant,” she pats Two’s head, finally having learned to do it softly enough not to stun the poor little beard.

“You know what? You’re right,” Two smiles back, and jumps on Cryo’s back with only the faintest help of her wings. Up there, she takes a deep breath, “HEY, PONIES, GO VISIT BLUE SKIES’ CLOTHES STORE! WARES GOOD ENOUGH TO COOL A CHANGELING DOWN IN THIS HEAT.”

***

“Heheh, you heard that, right?” Three, surrounded by eleven Elevens, pokes the nearest one who nods. All Elevens turn shiny white in a moment, followed by Three, “Hmmm, I can’t feel any different, but we’ll see.”

After having separated from the boss and wandering around for few minutes, Three and Eleven are looking around the main promenade of lower Canterlot, watching the colorful ponies momentarily slightly surprised by their transformations.

“Can I get that?” a small pyramid of Eleven is already propping the top one face to face with a stallion operating an inflatable balloon stand.

“It’s two bits per balloon, or I can make you an animal for three,” says the pony warmly.

“Awww… nevermind then,” Eleven is straining his speaking focus, “Thank you.”

“Boss has all the gold,” Eleven says mentally, recovering from the effort of maintaining balance and speaking from one mouth.

“Let’s find something we can try for free,” Three doesn’t lose his enthusiasm, “There must be… like a thousand ponies here. And you know you’re supposed to speak out loud. No slouching and disappointing the boss.”

“Okay,” Eleven nods.

Short while later, Three, floating above the heads of ponies, spots something blue ahead with a lot of young voices coming from there. He looks at a swarm of Eleven grouped underneath, and points.

“Let’s see what that’s all about.”

The carefully, and in some cases fairly acrobatically, make their way through the slowly moving crowd to a rather open area with something that Three identifies as an above ground pool, strictly on the basis of colts and fillies swimming around with ponies chatting nearby. He observes the situation for a while, and spots a colt simply getting inside the pool via a short set of steps. There doesn’t seem to be anyone wanting money for entry. Three floats down to Eleven, saying:

“Wanna cool down a bit? I admit the white color helps, but water would do us good.”

Eleven nods, and follows Three who walks to the pool undisturbed, with only few sideways glances from the parents around it. He drops in, and breathes out. Despite him being a little bigger than the foals, the water is up to his chin.

“It’s a little deep, so be careful,” he warns Eleven.

The first of four Elevens pokes the water, and finds it pleasantly cool even in this weather.

Then he steps in, and the remaining three on the steps jump instantly afterwards.

The mental echo of his panic resonates far and wide.

Four Elevens immediately start drowning, them being slightly smaller than even the foals. Three grabs one, but can’t fly him out due to wet wings, so his legs are flopping in the water to get one to the edge of the pool while the others are splashing and choking. Eleven can’t just grow something as complex as gills. He can barely do basic surface transformations.

Elevens outside just sit there, all control left from those bodies.

I’m galloping through the street already, world slowed down to a crawl. Yet, despite my enhanced speed, I see an even faster blur ahead, moving ponies aside so that my mad dash doesn’t hurt anyone. Neither I nor One can fly even remotely as fast as we can run, so we just do that.

Three has just managed to push one Eleven to the helping hooves of a pegasus outside, and dives back down where three more are only twitching along with the screaming of colts trying to get out.

One jumps in, transforming her forehooves into claws, and grabs an Eleven each while I feel desperate power well inside me. Through One’s eyes, I target my telekinesis, and pull the final Eleven out. An earthpony mare snatches him from the air, and stomps on his chest. I almost dart ahead and decapitate her, but she lowers her hoof from Eleven’s chest, puts her lips to his, and blows air into him. I must be missing something.

Her Eleven starts coughing immediately, and so does the one to whose chest One puts her horn and lets out a little love lightning. The one Three got out in time is sitting on the flagstones, trembling, and I grab the last one and carefully shake him, which by what must be pure luck because I have no clue what I’m doing works, as he begins coughing out water as well.

“What the hole, Three?!” my raised mental voice is shaking as well.

“I… I’m sorry, boss. The pool was too deep, and when Eleven panicked I couldn’t help him float. I’m… so sorry...”

I walk over to the earthpony mare and take a deep bow.

“Thank you very much for your help, miss,” I turn my head to the pegasus, “And you too, sir.”

“No problem,” says the mare, “Just be more careful, especially if the little ones can’t swim well.”

“Who cares? Bugs can always hatch twenty more,” someone snickers in the back.

One’s head snaps in the direction of the speaker who would normally be hidden in the crowd, but with her height, One can see the unicorn clearly. She only shifts her weight to the tip of her hoof, and the flagstone cracks under her foreleg.

“Let it go, One,” I breathe out, “This was our fault. And factually what he said was correct.”

“That pony wasn’t saying that from objective standpoint. It’s some bug hating hornhead.”

“You think I don’t know that? But what does it matter? We can’t just beat him senseless in the middle of the crowd as much as we’d both want to. Let’s be happy that other ponies helped. Damn, my heart is still pounding.”

One breathes out.

“You’re right, honey.”

Eleven’s bodies are all glaring at the pool, as if daring the water to jump out and try to hurt them again.

Three pokes the nearest drenched one, and says:

“I… forgot to tell you that you need to fill the holes in your legs,” he puts his forelegs up, shapeshifts them to remake his ‘cupholders’ and then makes them disappear again, “And you have to keep breathing. It helps you float. Sorry...”

Eleven pouts, raises his forelegs, and with supreme focus, the tiny holes in all his many legs disappear. All bodies wobble from sudden exhaustion, but one walks in front of me and points at my horn.

“Can I fly?”

Now it takes me some focus, because telekinesis isn’t something I use often, and I let one Eleven hover above ground. He points at the pool, and I fly him over there, not letting go as he gradually lowers his legs into the water. Very slowly, he starts splashing them around. Three hops inside again, but one colt is faster, and paddles over to Eleven.

“You gotta move your legs like this,” he swims around Eleven who stops moving, relying on my hold, and only watches. He nods after a moment, and the body sitting next to me says:

“Let go, boss.”

I do so, and the Eleven in the water, furiously holding his breath to stay afloat, starts moving.

“You need to breathe,” says Three, standing next to Eleven. This is advanced control, because even I don’t understand much how Eleven’s mind works, but the little guy is a quick learner in a pinch, and soon he’s flapping around alongside Three and other foals. He doesn’t dare try with more bodies at once yet, but he’s happy enough, and now that there’s no immediate threat, neither am I.

One colt has crawled out of the pool, and approaches Eleven sitting outside.

“Wanna go play hide and seek?”

“What’s that?” Eleven answers while his swimming body gets out of the pool.

“A game, we’ll show you,” the colt trots over to a group of others. Eleven looks at me, and when I nod he follows them.

“Three, keep an eye on him, will you? No drowning this time,” I pat Three’s strangely still fluffy pink, wet afro.

Finally letting out a sigh of relief, I nuzzle One’s neck, and look ahead at the shops.

“How about we cool down with some ice cream, hmm?”

“Don’t you want to keep an eye on Three?” she asks.

“Look, I trust him. He might have made an almost fatal mistake, but in his case that only makes me more certain he won’t do it again. He’s not one to get overconfident and complacent. Plus, Eleven needs to learn on his own too. I’ll protect them when I can, but I’m not going to raze every obstacle in their way.”

“That’s Comfort’s approach,” comments One.

“And your, really,” I add, “We all need to make mistakes to learn from them.”

One ponders that for a moment, then she smiles.

“Ice cream?”

“Yep.”

***

”I AM CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGED TO TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN BUY A CLOTHES-THING LIKE THIS DOWN NEAR THE TRAIN STATION!” Cryo’s happy voice ruptures the eardrums of nearest ponies.

“That’s a sundress,” Two corrects her.

”I AM CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGED TO TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN BUY A CLOTHES-THING LIKE THIS DOWN NEAR THE SUNDRESS!” Cryo corrects herself.

Two shrugs, and waves the board with Blue Skies’ shop address above her head.

“They’ll figure the message out eventually- whoah!” she grabs onto Cryo as the queen leans down to a public fountain, and with the noise of a partially stuck industrial pump starts drinking.

“Everything is blurry now,” she says when she pulls her head out of the water. Two takes Cryo’s sunglasses off, making the queen frown and shield her eyes with her hoof, “Brown and blurry was better.”

“They’ll dry out in a moment,” she puts them back on Cryo’s head, “Though you know what? That’s not a bad idea at all,” Two jump straight into the fountain, and walks under the water trickling from the horn of the unicorn statue serving as the central ornament. The cold water certainly helps a ton in this weather, “That’s a whole lot of ponies… and non-ponies,” she lay her eyes on a red, scaly creature with long neck, sharp teeth, and claws on its legs of Cryo’s size with large, leathery wings. A quick connection to One identifies it as a very young dragon. She heard of those from the dwarves, but much bigger and deadlier ones. No one is eating anyone, though, which counts for a lot.

“Two, this walking loaf of beard is courting me. How do I diplomatically cocoon it?” Two hears Cryo’s confused voice, and when she turns around she sees a creature she’s never seen before. Strangely enough, loaf of beard is a surprisingly accurate description. It’s somewhat bigger than an adult pony but with long brown hair all over covering most of its shape. There’s a muzzle sticking from the front otherwise barely distinguishable from the back, and it has horns like a minotaur above it.

“Bugpony look strong!,” it grunts. Cryo leans down to it, sniffs it, and scrunches her nose.

“What are you? How do you not melt in this heat?”

“Yak strong. Yak from north, but heat not defeat yak!” says the… yak?

“Look, little beard, it’s neighbor beard!” Cryo points at the yak and turns to Two.

“Literally,” Two splashes over.

“This not beard, this fur,” explains the yak, “Beard underneath.”

“That’s just her tick, ignore it,” Two waves her hoof.

“Yak got ticks too!”

“Color me surprised,” says Two flatly, “How can we help you, mister yak?”

“Yak want nothing. Yak only say big bugpony pretty! Huge assets,” the yak smiles, waves, and wanders off.

“What does banking have to do with courting?” asks Cryo.

“A lot, actually,” Two hops on Cryo’s back again, “Topaz told me he had a gold digger marefriend once. Great body, but a horrible leech.”

“All dwarves are gold diggers,” answers Cryo, “Wait no, gems and iron too.”

“You’re right,” Two chuckles to herself, lies down on Cryo’s back, and lowers her eyeshade over her eyes, “Let’s head on again. Boss hasn’t called yet, so we’ve got time.”

“Aww, I liked beard loaf. Tasty snack.”

Huh, Cryo does feel a little fuller.

***

“Hey! You’re really good at this,” an orange colt crawls from behind an apple stand as Eleven peeks under the counter accompanied by laughter of the owner, “That’s three times in a row.”

Eleven beams and leads the colt to other five already gathered foals.

“I bet you can’t do it four times in a row!” a green filly pokes Eleven’s chest.

“I can!” pouts Eleven.

“Hey, Three. You up for some trip down memory lane?” I ask.

“Is that here in Canterlot?” Three looks at the house numbers around, confused.

“No, I mean if you want to see someplace familiar. One and I are on the way.”

“Sure, boss. We’ll catch up with you,” answers Three.

“Come on, Eleven,” Three pats Eleven’s head, “Let’s see what the boss is all about,” and when they’re out of earshot, he leans down to Eleven’s head, “They might eventually figure out you’re cheating.”

“I wasn’t cheating!” objects Eleven, “Rules said nothing about me.”

He beams, and other ten bodies drop their invisible disguises which they used to spy on the hiding foals during the game of hide and seek.

I laugh to myself as well, and turn my attention back to One hoof wrestling a random dragon off of the street. To her it’s more a measure of love needed rather than a real contest, and soon the dragon’s foreleg touches the table hastily provided by the owner of the ice cream parlor, much to the dragon’s bulging eyes.

“Wha- whuh- how?” the dragon about twice One’s size chokes out.

“You’re pretty strong,” she pats his chest with a smile, “Well done.”

She looks around at gawking ponies holding ice cream cones. Few quickly chomp their cones down, and start stomping the ground in awe.

“Thank you, thank you,” One bows, “Huh?” she turns around as the store owner pats her shoulder, and gives her a small tub of multicolored ice cream, “Oh, thank you!”

“You drew quite the spectacle,” I comment, “That guy must have sold out half of his shop.”

“I’ve got an idea, honey. How about I smear it all over myself and you lick it off?”

“That would be a fun spectacle, but ponies might object in the same way they did when we tried it in Brauheim. Public indecency my ass.”

“Technically, MY ass,” she smirks.

“Can’t argue with that,” I admit, “Anyway, Three and Eleven will be with us soon. We should go. There’s still a whole half of the city to see.”

With One leaning lightly against me, we head through the less prominent streets to a certain place from my… almost seven years old map of the city.

Wow, has it been that long? Well, hibernating for five of those certainly made it shorter, but even the past two years in Brauheim just flew by.

When Three and Eleven finally catch up with us, we’re already at our destination, although it certainly does look different than last time.

“The Grand Plan Orphanage,” One reads the writing above the door, “They made… and orphanage out of it?”

“Oh hey, that’s where we lived in Canterlot, isn’t it?” Three beams, “Orphanage? That’s awesome! They’re like you, boss.”

“Huh?” I stop looking at the previously deserted house of our time, and turn my head towards Three, “What do you mean?”

“Well, we were all lost and alone at some point, but you got us together and we’re all happy,” he hugs my foreleg, and I blink away the first hint of tears.

No one says anything for some time, not even Eleven who can’t really recognize the meaning of this place.

“It’s been so long...” One mumbles eventually.

It’s clear why we’re here in Canterlot. This house is a reminder of everything that mustn’t happen again - changeling failures, pony hatred, griffon-pony wars, and greed of the power-hungry tearing the lands apart.

The corner of my mouth curls up, although my eyes are still wet. It’s been a very long trip since we left Badlands.

“Now it’s my job to make sure nothing like that happens again. Arriving late wouldn’t be a good start, and we still want to see the upper city.”

“Wait, there’s something written here too,” Three trots over to a rather large plaque by the door, “We might not always see the big picture. Things might seem scary at times. Friends might look like enemies, and enemies may pretend to be friends. However, as long as we don’t give up, there is light. Dedicated to the events of Zebrican invasion, and to the alicorn of Hope.”

“Huh, I wish Gem was in range. She would know what this means,” I comment. She did talk about the invasion of zebras and undead several years ago, but all I know is that supposedly everyone involved was played by the unicorn minotaurs consider their Dark Prophet. Don’t know anything about any alicorns, though. Oh well, “Anyway, let’s go. Upper Canterlot awaits, and imagine what’s there to see if the lower city is this lively.”

***

As it turns out, way less than one would expect.

I admit, it was fun taking the official route between the two cities for the first time - the wide and well-kept road winding up and around the mountain to upper Canterlot. The view was breathtaking, there were food stands and performers around serving to make the trip of the thick queue of carts and visitors more bearable, and in the end we crossed the train tracks Gem must have taken on her ride up. All in all, a lot more interesting than our previously used route - the sewers, although a lot longer, taking over an hour of casual walking.

And now we’re up here, this time all of us in white to combat the sun bearing down on us. Again, I mean. First time for me, I mean. Eh, shared memories make things confusing. One and Gem were up here few times during our original visit, Comfort obviously knows this place well since we have a still rather accurate map of the upper city in our hive mind from the time of the invasion despite her not being here now.

Still, it doesn’t take anything away from the sight. Beautiful, clean white buildings decorated with gems and gold everywhere around. Narrower streets still hosting many stands and street performers. Store owners inviting visitors from species I can barely recognize, and even an untransformed changeling here and there. It’s no Crystal Empire in its hospitality, but it does feel warm despite the occasional freaked out glance at me, One, and mostly Cryo in her rather fetching outfit… in a weird, unfitting way.

Two’s eyes are open wide as she’s turning her head from side to side while riding in the front on uncharacteristically smiling Cryo. One’s not looking around directly, but I feel her being tapped inside everyone’s eyes through me while she’s just walking by my side with a content smile, her ears flicking and turning. Three seems to have taken to flying, which he hasn’t been doing much underground, and is hovering above us with the occasional break on my back. Eleven is walking in a tight group behind me and One, all jaws dropped.

“Anyone hungry?” I ask, coming to a sudden realization. Our love levels are more than fine, but the mingling of ponies and various species around is rousing my desire to taste the emotions, “Or peckish really.”

“No. Ponies like me for some reason,” muses Cryo.

“...I wonder why...” whispers One into my ear while nodding to the wet globes of Cryo’s ass ahead.

“...she does look good in that, though...” I reply.

“...you like ‘em big and strong...” she chuckles.

“...I sure do...” I nuzzle her neck.

“Nom nom nom...” Cryo smacks her lips, sensing our love behind her.

“I’m good on the old love side,” reports Three, our own little ball of edible energy.

“You know...” Two says in thought, “While I’m not hungry, I am curious if this place supposedly full of magic has something interesting to offer. Dwarf brothels were sort of boring, Crystal Empire ones were neat, so I wonder how a high-class place here would taste.”

I toss her the pouch with bits from Gem. It’s not as if we would need it at this point, it seems. Most of the attractions have been free for foals, which did include Eleven and Three, our most interested members, and we didn’t have much use for food other than ice cream to cool down.

“Sure, go for it. Do you know where one is?” I ask. Two quickly scans Comfort’s map of the city.

“There is one nearby. Not completely high-class, but certainly a reputable establishment. I’ll check it out,” she jumps off of Cryo’s back and rushes into a side alley, “Keep an eye on miss wet T-shirt here, will you?”

Makes sense Comfort would know a place like that in detail. I have to ask if she worked there while preparing the invasion.

Cryo turns her head around when Two is gone, and says:

“Don’t worry, boss. I won’t cause any trouble,” she glances upwards, “In fact, I think I’ll find some shady spot and wait for little beard there.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. Despite Cryo’s peaceful and rather warm attitude, I do sense a hint of melancholy from her.

“I am,” she nods and walks off in the direction where Two left.

We walk around for a while, but I can’t help feeling something is off, and I barely acknowledge the attractions in our way.

“What’s bothering you?” asks One.

“Cryo felt… sad. Only a bit though.”

“Hugs must be administered!” Three punches the air, and Eleven beams in preparation for full body swarming. Cryo is the only who can get hugged by all his bodies at once, and he appreciates that.

It’s the little things in life.

“Maybe she remembered something,” ponders One, “I mean, the old conquest did end here in upper Canterlot when changelings couldn’t break through the castle defenses.”

We both remember only fragmented remains of the rulers’ memories, mostly only why things happened and not what exactly did happen. Carefully, I peek out of Cryo’s eyes to see where she is.

The huge queen is sitting behind a dumpster in a shady alley. Not sad, not contemplating anything, just… waiting. Come to think of it, ever since she joined us in Brauheim, she’s been spending time mostly with Two.

“I agree with Three,” I make an executive decision, “Onwards to huggery!”

Our little procession makes sitting Cryo look up quizzically, and I sense her puzzled surprise as Eleven jumps all over her, hugging everywhere he can reach. Three floats behind her, and hugs the back of her neck.

“Bad memories?” I ask, “I’m the boss right now, so you can’t get away with lying that easily,” I smile and wink at her.

“No memories,” she shakes her head, “Only… feelings. Everyone is so happy. It feeds me, it cheers me up, but to me… this place is a… a grinder,” she sighs, “It just hit me out of nowhere. I’m not about to try to refight the old wars, if you’re worried about that.”

Patting her foreleg, I slowly breathe out.

“No, I’m not. It just, I think that at this point I’m sort of attuned to something bothering my changelings, and I immediately want to sort it out. We suffered for long enough, and we deserve peace… or peace of mind in your case.”

“In my time, your underlings would eat you alive,” she chuckles and changes the subject, “Anyway, how’s little beard doing? I’m curious how Canterlot magical whorses taste.”

Together, we all look out of Two’s eyes.

She enters a rather dim and quiet hall decorated with wine-red carpet, wood paneling halfway up the walls, and electric lights disguised as torches scattered evenly on the walls.

“How can Ai help yoo, mees?” asks a cheery voice from a booth in an alcove to the right. Two blinks, taking a second to decipher the fumbled message, and looks at the speaker, a grey earthp- unicorn with most of his horn missing and the stub neatly filed down who is giving her a dizzy albeit genuinely friendly smile.

There is a sense of unease around him, but to Two it doesn’t seem as if she’s the cause. In fact, she can smell a changeling on him, although he clearly either isn’t one or is such a good infiltrator that he can hide his identity from her. Considering how much time she’s spent with Comfort, that’s extremely unlikely.

“This is a brothel, right?” Two walks over to the counter.

“Yes, mees,” the crippled unicorn nods, and reaches for a thick binder on his desk, “Wee have all yoo mite want, even for a sh- ch- shen-jee-link,” he stutters out.

“Wow, neat!” Two beams at the nervous receptionist, and puts the pouch with bits on the desk, “I’d like someone or something with tentacles, and two knotted dongs. No, make it a dragon. A big one.”

“Eeeeeeh...” the receptionist starts flipping the pages of his binder furiously, “Ai… Ai dont theenk we… meybe… no. Ai… Ai dont know,” his quietens down into mumbling which coupled with his fumbled speech Two can barely recognize, “Aim soree its taking so long… Ai normally just kleen d place… Rose is upstairs wit a customer coz wee ar busy wit all d veeseetors,” he reaches the end of the binder, obviously not finding something Two wanted, and starts visibly shaking, “Ai… meybe… if wee call my shen-jee-link frend for d tentickles, end Fleck is a diamond dog but shee is a shee, so no notty stuff. But wee hev dees fake strap-on thingies end shee can wear too of dose dragin ones. Ees dat okey wit yoo?”

His hopeful and scared stare locks on her as his impeded talking stops. Two takes a moment to decipher his message, which doesn’t seem to bother him at the slightest. He’s likely used to it.

“Umm, sure?” Two nods to the bits on the counter, “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Greyscale, mees,” the unicorn takes the pouch and starts counting while flipping the pages again, “But Aim not a worker heer. I mean I am but Ai just kleen d place. Wait, Ai alredy said dat. Soree,” he counts the money much faster than Two would expect, probably faster than she could, making her think that he’s just a very nervous pony with a speech impediment, not someone wrong in the head, “Umm, mees? Yor sixty-seven bits short.”

“Oh,” Two pouts. Settling for some normal unicorn whorse, albeit possibly a high-class one, would be underwhelming to say the least, “Nevermind then. I wasn’t sure about the prices in the big city,” she says politely.

Unfortunately, that serves to unnerve Greyscale even further.

“Ai, wait! Meybe wee ken work someting out,” he looks around, “Ai ken ask the lady if wee take inst-all-mence,” he peeks into the hall and to the right where there are stairs leading up in the distance, “Ai bought mai new heeter last winter like dat. No reeson to lose a customer-”

Two comes to her own executive decision, and jumps over the counter, landing with her forelegs around Greyscale’s neck.

“Aim not huggabl, mees!” contrary to his words, the unicorn stands stock still.

“On the contrary,” Two sinks her fangs into Greyscale’s neck, and stays like that until her venom makes him stop shaking and calm down. When his eyes glaze over, she whispers, “I wasn’t here. Have a nice and pleasant day,” after a quick thought, she adds, “and don’t worry so much.”

As dizzy Greyscale starts humming a happy tune, Two buzzes out of the booth, and quietly leaves the brothel.

“I apologize, boss,” she says via her link as she starts heading our way, “We don’t have enough money for anything interesting, and trying to force your order would do more harm than good.”

“Alright,” I reply, aware of what transpired and agreeing with her in every respect.

“Little beard would get shaved for this in my time,” comments Cryo as Two is landing in our alley, “I’m glad this isn’t my time anymore.”

“Shaved?” Two snickers.

Cryo just grins at her, and stands up.

“There is someplace I’d like to visit, though,” says Two, “The city walls - the view must be amazing.”

Come to think of it, while she did visit Rift and Crystal Empire, there wasn’t much to see from anywhere with a view.

“Hey, everyone!” I hear Gem’s voice in my head, ”I’ve set everything up in the castle. You don’t have to rush, but it would be a good idea to arrive in time for a tour.”

“Sure thing. We’ll start heading there,” I reply. To Two, I say out loud, “We’ll take it slow. You can go check out the city walls. We don’t know how much free time we’re going to have during the summit.”

“Thanks, dad,” she hops on Cryo’s back, and the two are quickly gone.

I turn to One.

“You know, I was trying to put it off as long as I could, but I guess it’s time to face the music, and by music I mean two alicorns you beat the everliving goo out of.”

“Huh, I wonder if I could do some permanent damage now. It was irritating to make them look as if they got a massage from a trash compactor only to have them heal few seconds later,” ponders One with a smirk, “You know, personal growth and all.”

“Please don’t greet any of the princesses with ‘Hi, remember how I broke your legs and stuffed them into your nostrils?’.”

“There’s a conversation ice breaker if ever I heard one,” One snorts as we’re once again walking on the crowded main streets, “And didn’t you do something to them too?”

“If we don’t count shitting myself so hard that some must have splashed her way, I can’t recall. Besides, I was Three’s size at the time. The best I could do would be poking her shin.”

“Heh, if Ten was here, he’s prefer poking that booty.”

“Quite honestly, who wouldn’t?” I mumble.

“Speaking of which,” One gives me a devious grin, “My ass or Celestia’s?”

“Ummm… my memory is a bit foggy,” I try to ignore Ten’s memories of him not entirely on accident becoming Celestia’s pillow, “I don’t think I can render a fair judgement regarding all the ways yours is better than hers- stop laughing, I know you’re in my head!”

“Yep, and it’s hella fun watching you worm your way out of this one,” One bumps her hips against me, “Pretty smooth attempt, though. Good job.”

“Thanks.”

It’s kinda hard to lie to someone who knows exactly what you think.

“It damn well is,” she comments, “Besides, the things I would like to do to her ass would be considered crimes against equinity in most of the world. I mean, just from the looks alone, Chrysalis and Comfort look great, but Sunbutt… holes damn!” she shivers as her imagination takes her to the land of lusty an happy.

“Thank you for that image,” I roll my eyes, “That’s exactly what I want on my mind when I meet her.”

“You worry too much,” she playfully punches my shoulder.

“That’s why I’m still alive and in this position,” I counter.

“Speaking of positions, us, Ten, Celestia three-and-a-half-some.”

“Screw you, honey...” I mutter.

“Already did that, but that alabaster plush-”

“Stoooooooooop...” groaning, I turn my attention to figuring out how to shapeshift my ears off without One knowing.

***

“Now this was worth it,” Two breathes out, standing on the crenellations of the upper Canterlot city walls. Cryo is standing next to her, and despite the boosting effect of the masonry for Two, her horn is still over Two’s head.

The ancient queen is looking down on Equestria, its forests, plains, fields, villages and small settlements occasionally dotting the landscape. Everything is lush with greenery or… vegetablery, which is the only word she can come up with. Changelings like her don’t know much about pony food.

Everything is so much alive...

Two blinks.

...and then it’s all gone, dead and burning.

4: Diplo-thingy

View Online

The brutalized land trembles under the stomping hooves of the changelings.

From the walls of upper Canterlot, Two can see spires of green goo of purpose unknown to her rising from the landscape. In the further distance, there are clouds of smoke hanging in the sky from vast stretches of burning land and the charred skeletons of villages. Hundreds of thousands of changelings are walking in ranks, completely silent to the outside world, but Two can sense echoes of orders streaming through a hive mind million times more expansive than anything she’s familiar with, the tsunami of voices almost strong enough to rob her of all individuality and make her a mindless thrall to the commands.

A golden flash lights the smoldering grassland far down, as a small group of either extremely brave or downright suicidal ponies flank a square formation of marching changelings from a secret route inside the mountain. The shockwave from the explosion scatters tens of changelings around and incinerates the closest ones, but even a magical attack like that is like spitting against a forest fire. Many more bursts of light and flame follow, burning changeling after changeling as the ranks of the seemingly infinite black army close around the pony group and swallow them. Two hears the hive mind report - nearly two hundred dead changelings, but a successful capture of three unicorn stallions, one earthpony stallion, one unicorn mare, and one earthpony mare. Strong ones, all of them. They will serve to breed and feed far more changelings than they killed. Soon, the nearest drones are dragging a set of cocoons towards the green spires.

“How?” asks Two, her mental voice unheard. She turns her head to look away from the sight of marching changeling armies making her weak at the knees, but she finds no respite.

She’s still on the walls of upper Canterlot. The city behind her, however, is as far from any festival as one can imagine… other than endless changeling feast.

A spire made of green goo and remnants of crumbling masonry like those far down towers over the nearby streets, and this close Two can see its intricate structure of ledges allowing for movement between ponies set in its walls, bloated with eggs or with genitals sticking out for a quick refill of lust by any needy changeling. As a mare on the second level screams, flow of eggs easily slips out of her and into a gathering indentation underneath, signalling that she’s been through mass birth many times before. A changeling breeder with massive equipment flies over immediately, and as a drone gathers the eggs, he starts pumping a new batch into the mare who only whimpers, her glassy eyes unblinking and unseeing. She’s only one of many. Only moments later, the eggs hatch, and instead of larvae, there are changeling warriors already crawling out of those, unsteady at first but soon ready to fight with bloodthirsty single-mindedness.

Two, or what’s left of her in the sea of hungry voices, senses the minds of the fresh batch of changelings… or what constitutes a changeling only by the barest definition. Those aren’t minds by any measure she knows, only sets of instructions - fight, capture, spread. No individuality, no advanced intelligence, only… only… they are only tools. Tools, empty bodies to storm the walls of the last bastion of ponykind, the perfect way to make warriors without wasting love on developing their brains.

“Like Three and dad were supposed to be…”

With those whispered words, there is no Two anymore, only information flowing from all sides. The fresh braindead batch of warriors flies eastward to crumbling walls separating the Canterlot castle proper from the rest of the city. There are changelings massing on the stomped lawns covered in shattered chitin, crunching and devouring the dead and dying for any remnant of love in their physical bodies. Without thinking, literally, the newborn warriors from all birthing spires around the city storm the castle walls, and hit an invisible barrier which grinds them into dust. Few of the accidentally more developed ones can feel fear, and as they turn to flee, bolts of fire, lighting, and colored lights from various slots in the castle walls deliver swift and painful death to every single one of them.

The united ranks standing on the castle lawns but still out of range of the pony defenders shift nervously. Not exactly from the death of the fresh wave, that’s a common sight these days, more from a single tall female changeling with teal mane and wearing a green plate armor standing in front of them.

She looks down at the male infiltrator by her side, her second-in-command, and snarls.

“They sealed all entrances, your Majesty. We’ve managed to track-urk?!” the infiltrator levitates up, green glow around his neck crushing his chitin.

The queen opens her mouth, and rips all energy at once from the hive’s number One, making the infiltrator scream in agony. She throws him towards the castle, and growls:

“Go. Show them how it’s done.”

“But your Majesty-” his mouth closes on its own, biting his tongue off. His mind takes a back seat to the queen’s control, and his legs make him stride towards the castle, maw bleeding but head raised.

Even with most of his power drained by the queen, he still deflects a bolt of lightning coming from the walls, and manages to get to the barrier. As he jams his horn into it, the slow grinding begins. Queen’s control doesn’t let him scream until most of his skull is gone and his body keeps being sucked further in towards the grinding magic.

With a bloodthirsty grin, the queen turns to the lined up changelings led by who are supposed to be her best, her generals, potential queens…

...FAILURES, ALL OF THEM!

“Figure something out, or you’re next!” she barks at them, and leaves. The changelings let out a collective sigh of relief as they turns their heads to their respective generals.

A light blue-maned warrior, humongous even for a changeling, exchanges glances with a green, much smaller infiltrator with long fangs protruding from her mouth when the queen is out of earshot. The blue one is Cryo, her carapace scarred and mane charred in places. However, her expression isn’t the usual slightly dazed one, but the sharp, serious face of someone who has seen the future and didn’t like it one bit.

“Is it time?” asks Moss, not daring to communicate via hive mind in fear of the conversation being tracked, “Chrysalis looked more pissed off than she usually is.”

“Yes, it’s time, unless you want to end up like One. That’s what happens when an infiltrator wants to lead a war on her own,” says Cryo, making Moss hiss angrily at her, “Oh shut up, I don’t tell you how to do infiltrating either, so Chrysalis should have let a real warrior lead the war effort. Vulcan is with us, and all other generals are on a… similar wavelength.”

“What do you mean by similar?”

“They want to leave too, but I doubt they will be… peaceful about it. My infiltrators say they will want to escape with as much resources as they can, which means they will devour anyone weaker and vulnerable on the way.”

“Do you want to... cooperate during the escape?” offers Moss, “It would make getting away easier.”

“There can be only one queen in a hive,” Cryo shakes her head, “Not worrying about being attacked by your or Vulcan’s hives is more than enough.”

“And Chrysalis?”

“That idiot will draw forces from all over Equestria to stop us, which Celestia will use to regain control of Canterlot,” Cryo shakes her head, “We could have taken the castle, but Chrysalis fucked everything up...”

“What happened?” Moss tilts her head, “I was busy chasing survivors in the White Tail woods when the order to gather everyone in Canterlot arrived.”

“All we had to do was group up, siege the castle, and tire them out. It could take months, but it would have worked. Chrysalis, though, thought that because we took Canterlot, the castle would follow soon, and she broke the alliance with the zebras prematurely. Since we lost so many changelings already, she had to pull forces from Zebrica, and a pretty pissed off striped army is landing in the south. All we needed was time, and that’s the only thing we don’t have thanks to her. That’s why she’s resorting to her new… invention. Creating these pseudo-changelings… mindless abominations. Fucking monster.”

Moss facehoofs, and Cryo grins without any joy in it.

“That’s not all,” the warrior queen continues, “News from the east is that the griffons did what we never thought they were capable of - they united and switched from guerilla warfare to open march on our outposts. Shadowstep’s campaign has been defeated, and the last information I have is that they chased her into the northern deserts and starved her to death. Without that traditional loyalist, Chrysalis is alone, and griffons are coming with their cannons, bombs, and technology. We’ve united the world against us, and if we want to survive we need to hide.”

“It’s all breaking down...” Moss breathes out, “Where do you intend to go?”

Cryo shrugs.

“Probably the north, you know, Cryo and all. I’m not going to tell you more for obvious reasons, and I’m not going to ask you either. Maybe we’ll meet again in better times for us changelings, maybe not.”

Without another word, Cryo leaves and seeks out her One, the number Sixty-eight of the whole changeling empire. Contrary to the warrior queen, her best subordinate is a male infiltrator. Cryo is fully aware of the value of varied skill set.

“Gather at most five hundred of my best, warriors, infiltrators, drones,” orders the sapphire queen, “We’re leaving. No hive mind communication, word of mouth only. If we get found out too early, we’re all dead.”

“Don’t take it as insubordination, my queen, but why not assemble everyone and fight our way out?” he asks.

“Moss and Vulcan will take everyone, and so will other generals. Such mass exodus will immediately draw Chrysalis’ attention, and she’ll seek to make an example of them instead of focusing on the ponies. If she finds out most of my hive is still in Canterlot, she’ll think we’re either dealing with the rebels or that we are far too small group to bother with,” Cryo raises her foreleg, “Yes, I know this means sending thousands of my changelings to their deaths. Do it.”

One nods, and gallops off.

Several hours later, Cryo’s hive is galloping west, the eyes of her rear guard locked on Canterlot mountain slowly getting smaller. Chrysalis’ orders ring through the hive mind, and infinite pain of tens of thousands of changelings slaughtering each other is making even her best warriors weak.

Suddenly, Chrysalis’ voice enhanced by magic booms through the land:

“I WILL DESTROY YOU, TRAITORS! I WILL DEVOUR YOUR MINDS AND FLAY YOUR CARAPACES PIECE BY PIECE! NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES!”

“Yep, scream that for the whole wide world to hear, Chrysalis,” Cryo smirks, “Especially to the pissed off alicorn in the castle waiting for any sign of your weakness. Infiltrators, seriously...”

Two gazes from the city walls, tears streaming from her eyes at the massacre all around her. Finally, it all becomes too much. Her knees buckle, and she keels over into the depth.

“Careful, little beard,” a huge foreleg catches her before she can drop down a whole mountain.

“Whuh- wha- why…?” Two breathes out, “You remembered something!”

“Huh?” Cryo tilts her head, “Oh yes, I did! We were told to go to the castle.”

“No, I mean… I mean… changelings all over Canterlot, fighting each other. You and other queens left furious Chrysalis here alone,” she tries to make sense of the vision.

Cryo blinks.

“My head itches...”

Two, legs still shaking, flies onto Cryo’s back, adjusts the queen’s hat, and scratches her head under the tight rim. Cryo’s tongue lolls out.

“Better?” Two forces a smile. It was the past, it must have been. Equestria is different now, changelings are welcome… or at least tolerated…

...but Chrysalis is still the queen.

I will destroy you no matter how long it takes!

Kinda puts the ‘bad mom’ as Three calls her into perspective. Two grits her teeth, her stomach swimming.

***

“BOSS, IT’S MINI-STOMPY!” Three immediately flies off so fast that he actually makes One blink.

Two and Cryo caught up to us some ten minutes ago, and now we’re about to enter the castle grounds separated by a wall from the rest of the city. By the sides of the only entrance, an open gilded gate, stand not only a pair of Royal Guards, but also a trio of Gem, a brown earthpony mare with darker brown mane, and a pony made of delicate metalwork, two bright blue circles in his otherwise pitch black eyes locked on Three buzzing around and poking him.

“Do you have lasers?” Three’s smiling from ear to ear, “Flamethrowers? Big buzzing energy shields? Are you a real pony in a metal body, or a full mechanical pony? Is your name Stompy junior- wait no, you’re small so you wouldn’t be so loud so… Clanky, Scratchy, Clippy-Cloppy?”

The chocolate mare next to the machine pony is doing her best not to burst out laughing at Three’s curiosity.

“My name is Bucket,” answers the machine in a slightly distorted voice, “Your curiosity regarding technology is rather unusual for a changeling.”

“Three, cool down a little. Ponies might get curious who Stompy is, and we’re not supposed to talk about the dwarves, remember?” I warn him.

“Oops. Sorry, boss.”

“My friend Six loves gadgets,” Three lands in front of Bucket, “He’d be ecstatic to see someone like you. Or something? How do I some- you?”

“I prefer someone,” Bucket smiles. His metalwork is incredibly more delicate than Stompy’s, so he likely isn’t a war tank or something, rather the imitation of a pony. However, the question regarding where ponies got a design like him comes to mind. Still, it’s not our priority to know.

“Ahem,” Gem clears her throat, “Dawn, Bucket, this is my father,” she points her hoof at me.

“Greetings, your Majesty,” the mare… Dawn takes a deep bow, and so does the robot. He’s really as flexible as a pony from what I can see.

“Who? Me?” I lean away. One smacks the back of my head, “Oh right, right. Sorry, I’m not used to titles, really. Everyone just calls me boss.”

“I’d prefer your Majesty,” Dawn chuckles, rising back up, “If I called you boss in front of anypony in charge, I’d get fired immediately… probably from a cannon into the sun.”

“We are here to show you to your rooms,” Bucket goes straight to business, “We will also answer any questions you might have.”

We really don’t need a tour of the castle, considering Gem knows her way around the public areas of the place, and we simply copy the map from her head.

“Let’s head off to where we’ll be sleeping first. Lead the way,” I nod at Bucket who turns around and goes through the gate.

The Canterlot castle gate is connected to this gateway via a paved white road, and there are lawns everywhere else. On the right lawn there are Royal Guards currently engaged in what looks like sparring and physical exercises, and the left lawn seems to be more on the decorative side since I can see a wall of greenery slightly taller than Cryo with an entrance in its center.

“Boss...” Three pokes me, “Boss, boss, boss, boss...”

“Shush, Three, I know.”

“Mind if I ask where you come from, Bucket?” I say out loud, “I mean, who built you?”

“Princess Twilight Sparkle built me as her… personal assistant-”

“A clopbot,” mutters Dawn, which makes One snort immediately, and Eleven runs by, taking a good look at Bucket’s underbelly. There doesn’t seem to be anything between his hind legs, though.

Bucket glances at the small changelings swarming around him.

“I don’t wear such equipment in public unless asked,” explains Bucket, “It serves no purpose.”

“Makes sense,” I shrug.

“Anyway,” Bucket continues, “Twilight Sparkle built me based on certain currently classified designs as her… intimate personal assistant, although I’ve been used that way by her very rarely. As for your little changeling’s question, I’m not a pony in a mechanical body, I am an artificial intelligence learning about the world.”

Classified designs… some unearthed dwarven technology? Granite did say that their ancestors had outposts and cities all under the world before the great war.

“Ponyficial,” adds Dawn. Bucket sighs, which comes out as a soft, distorted buzz.

“Princess Twilight insists on calling me a ponyficial intelligence as a symbol that she came up with it,” says the robot, “It makes no sense.”

We enter the castle, and I look around. The castle is white, mostly, with red carpeting on the floor. Various flowers hang overhead in gold-foiled metal pots, the load-bearing columns are built into the walls, showing only as rounder, evenly distributed vertical lines. Door frames are reinforced, and if the building material are granite slabs which it feels like-

I stop my drone instincts from taking over. For now, I don’t need to know the exact density of every single part of every single wall.

Anyway, the castle is certainly busy, with servants rushing around, guards patrolling the hallways in pairs, and various pony and non-pony guests everywhere.

The stained glass windows are pretty, although they show views and ponies I don’t recognize whatsoever.

Wait, no, I spoke too soon. There’s one with a bunch of changelings exploding out of the castle windows along with a rather good likeness of Chrysalis screaming in horror and flailing her legs. I snicker, which makes Bucket turn his head instantly.

“The end of the invasion of Canterlot,” he says, “I… don’t know how you feel about it, but if it bothers you, we can have the window covered for the duration of the summit, maybe?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I can’t stop grinning, “In fact, can I get a poster of Chrysalis’ face from that one?”

“Who else is attending the summit?” asks One in a raised voice, trying to slip on her diplomatic horseshoes.

“Oh come on, it would look hilarious on Five’s practice targets back home.”

“I can’t argue with that, but they don’t need to know,” despite no one in the real world being able to hear us, she still hisses at me.

“You’ll get to meet all representatives on tomorrow’s mixer,” says Dawn, “But it’s the usual group. Prince Rutherford for the yaks, warlord Darkhorn representing the minotaurs, princesses Celestia or Luna for us, obviously, queen Novo for the hippogriffs. She’s fairly new, actually. Steward Vargaz for the Griffon Empire… I don’t know the zebra, diamond dog, or neighpon delegates,” she claps her hooves together, “And dragon lord Ember for the, well, dragons. Did I miss anyone?”

“Yes,” says Bucket without adding anything, which earns him a stink eye from Dawn.

“Smartass...” she mutters, but brightens up immediately, “Gem- I mean miss Gem said four rooms would suffice for you and your entourage, your Majesty, so here we are, although there’s quite a lot of you, to be honest. The first four guest rooms in this hall are reserved for you, and you’re next to the zebra delegates. Is there anything else we can help you with?”

“Four?” I ask.

“You and mom, Three and Eleven, Two and Cryo, one for me or just in case?” Gem points it out, “I’m pretty sure you’re all be sleeping on one big pile anyway.”

“Not exactly,” Two nudges silent Cryo looking around.

“Not now, thank you,” I nod at the duo, “I believe our lodgings will be alright like this. Although if we need anything, who do we ask?”

“Any servant or a guard, really,” replies Dawn, “They should point you in the right direction or do what you want.”

“And is there anywhere we’re not supposed to go?” Two adds her two bits to the conversation, “It’s in our nature to explore.”

“Thaaat might be a little iffy,” Dawn clicks her lips, “I’d assume it would be a bad idea to go barging into any rooms, really. Castle grounds are okay including the workshop, barracks, garden maze, and everything else, though.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Two nods, “Thank you.”

Bucket and Dawn bow again as Gem ushers me and One into the first room. It’s… frankly quite similar to our room in Brauheim - a bed for two adorned with carvings, two wardrobes, one large window, a work desk with full stationery, everything woody and goldy.

Kinda boring. No green goop in sight.

A quick check on Two and Three?

Same rooms, only with two beds instead of a single big one.

“Hey, mom, dad?” Gem sits down on the bed, putting her forelegs together, twiddling her hooves nervously, and looking at the carpet, “I called you here this early because… there’s something I’d like to do. There’s someone I want you two to meet.”

“Hmmm?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Mind meeting me outside?” she gives us a hopeful look, “The garden maze should be empty, and there’s a place where we can sit down in its center.”

“Sure, should we take someone else with us?” I ask visibly relieved Gem.

“No nonono, just the two of you,” she shakes her head, “It’s nothing important- I mean it is, but- you’ll see.”

“Okay, we’ll be there in few minutes,” I nod, and she rushes off.

“What do you think that’s about?” asks One, “Summit stuff?”

“I doubt that,” I walk over to the window, and open it, letting the warm but fresh air in, “I never thought I’d say that, but when we’re back home, I should get out more. The cold underground is great, but a change of scenery does work wonders.”

“Told you you should go hunting winter wolves with me sometimes,” One gives me a smug wink.

“Next time I’ll take that offer, but we’re not killing them.”

“Sure, I can settle for a good concussion,” she shrugs, “Anyway, we should go meet Gem.”

“Definitely,” I reach for the door handle, and then stop, “This way will be faster,” I nod to the window.

We fly outside, and after a quick flight around the castle while being cautiously observed by Royal Guard pegasi, we spot the garden maze which was the green wall I saw earlier, and land in its center. There’s a clearing there with a pond and several benches made of white marble. The tall shrubbery makes the place shady and pleasant even on this hot day.

In about ten minutes, we hear soft hoofsteps approaching through the maze. A quick mental scan reveals one of the arrivals as Gem, but she’s blocking my access to her senses, so I can’t take a look at who is with her. She’s worried, though, that much I can feel, and same goes for One who cautiously grows a hidden blade on the back of her foreleg.

Gem enters the clearing first, followed by a brown-maned, grey pegasus stallion holding his wing pressed tightly against a grey-maned changeling mare of stature similar to One wearing a silky, silvery blindfold.

I feel a soft mental prod.

“Now here’s a mind I haven’t felt in a looooong time,” the changeling grins, “The punch bug one, not the royal one. Speaking of royals, how many assassins did Chrysalis send after you? I offed three, and I’m blind, although the last one killed himself when he tried to gloat for ten minutes and I just didn’t give a fuck.”

“Well I’ll be...” One smirks, “Sixteen?”

“Half-hearted Fury, as my beloved breeder calls me these days,” she nudges the pegasus’ neck, “What rank did you manage to chew your way to in the end? Three, four?”

“Considering what I had to corpsify in the service of my penetrating paramour, about negative two hundred. Buuut, since I kicked the ass of previous One even when she ascended into a succubus, I’m One now. Both under my king, and technically under Chrysalis.”

Gem clears her throat.

“Well, I didn’t know you knew each other, but mom, dad… here are my guardians - Half-hearted Fury and Common Crest. I asked them to come from Riverside to meet you.”

“I hear you’ve done a great job taking care of my daughter in her time of need,” I stand up and shake hooves with Crest.

“Pleased to meet you, your Majesty,” says the pegasus before guiding Fury’s hoof to mine to shake.

“Same here, though I wouldn’t miss the making of Canterlot’s most prominent drug dealer for no amount of dragon dicks,” she says, “Sorry for talking to One first, but I prefer making peace with the changeling who can kick me so hard I wouldn’t need a train ticket back home to Redneckville. I would bow, but I tend to keel over.”

Crest sighs.

“Riverside, honey.”

“That’s what I said,” she shrugs.

“As quite often, it falls to me to apologize for my wife, your Majesty,” Crest sighs, “She considers causing an international diplomatic incident an interesting passtime.”

I wave my hoof dismissively, and point at the bench next to the one One is sitting on.

“I started as a drone, and got here mostly with an amount of luck that will doubtlessly get balanced at some point by few decades of something horrible,” I shrug, sitting down to One again.

“Just decades?” One snickers, “Every time you get lucky with me, it’s six months of karmic debt to pay.”

“Heh, and here I thought my wife had a sharp tongue,” Crest strokes Fury’s mane with his wing.

I can’t help laughing out loud.

“Mister Crest, I’ve got two of these. I have yet to decide whether I’m lucky or cursed.”

“Oh, who’s the lucky side-chick that gets to bang a changeling king as well as his One?” Fury’s blindfold shifts as she raises an eyebrow.

“The previous One of Chrysalis’ hive who is now a succubus,” One shoots immediately.

“Is his dick made of love, cocaine, and candy?!” Fury yells out loud, “Crest. I want to change my celebrity crush!”

“Touch him, and being blind will be the last of your problems,” One’s threat has no hostility behind it, “Get your own!”

“I have my own!” objects Fury, “But he gets tired too easily.”

“Hey, this guy took a lot of training too!” One points at me, “He started as a drone, and the first time I wanted to bang him I had to lock us both up in a cellar. He lasted all of ten seconds, not that I let him go afterwards. I’m glad I did that anyway, since, you know, Gem happened.”

“Whaaaaaat?!” Fury stands up with Crest steadying her, and follows her ears to our bench. Then she pokes me as if I wasn’t a king, “Scootch over.”

I mean…

A little respect…?

I stand up and let Fury sit next to One. Crest and I take the other bench along with happily smiling Gem between us while they keep reminiscing about how things were back in the hive.

“Dad,” Gem nudges me, “I was curious, do you think it would be possible to cure Fury’s eyes?”

“Do you know what’s wrong with them?” I ask, “I mean, I certainly can’t do it, but I could give her enough of a love boost for her to regenerate them from scratch.”

Gem frowns.

“I… think she has love aplenty,” Gem leans against Crest’s shoulder, “She just doesn’t have enough control over her body to fix it. At least that’s my guess.”

“I can have a look at her, no problem, but it would be a lot better if Comfort was here.”

“Yeah, do that,” I hear One’s approval.

“I’ll need an access to her head. I’d prefer not forcing anything.”

“Hey, Fury,” One interrupts their chat, “Let the boss into your head, will you? I’d do that myself, but I’m not too subtle. You could end up with an actual new face hole.”

“Heh, could spice up my and Crest’s sex life. What for?” she turns her head around, “I mean, no big deal, it’s just a bit dusty in there. I haven’t used hive communication since the invasion,” she taps her short horn, “Does it even still work?”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Ah?!” Fury shakes her head, “Okay, that took me by surprise.”

“Dad is talking to Fury through her changeling mind link,” Gem quietly explains what’s going on to Crest.

Fury frowns in concentration.

“Testing… testing… one, two, three...”

“Heya, Fury!” Gem joins our experiments.

“You know, why haven’t we used this before?” ponders Fury, “We could have messed with Crest SO HARD!”

“Calm down, please,” I extend my control over Fury’s body, and allow One to analyze what’s going on. A warrior would know how a warrior’s body works.

“Gimme a second...” One mumbles to herself, “I see...”

“I don’t!” laughs Fury.

“Shut up or I’ll have you grow three extra legs,” One shoots her down, “So it’s like this… she’s been blind for too long and her natural memory is of her already being blind.”

“How is helping her different from me forcing you to shapeshift?” I ask.

“If it was Comfort doing it, it wouldn’t be. You could sort of… graft my eyes on her, or yours, or Gem’s really. I don’t know whether you have enough control to do it.”

One? Let’s leave it like this so that no one can hear us.

She softly nods my way, quiet both physically and mentally.

Good. I don’t know when Comfort will be back, nor whether we’ll have time during the summit, or how long Crest and Fury can stay here before going home. Imagine the look on Gem’s face if we gave Fury her sight back.

One smiles.

I’ll take complete control of Fury. You’re me. Change your eyes.

I feel Fury’s bout of panic, but she doesn’t have enough mental power to resist me, not that she’s trying too hard anyway. Synchronizing our breathing, I take it slow until her body is mine. One shapeshifts “herself”.

As I release my control and withdraw from Fury with utmost care, I open my own eyes, only to see Fury rip off her blindfold and blink in the daylight. Her jaw drops, and so does Crest’s as he slowly realizes what happened.

“You’re not messing with me again, Fury, are you?” he breathes out.

Gem is beaming like crazy with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Chrysalis’ anatomically incorrect crotchtits, you look SO PLAIN, CREST!” she starts laughing like a madpony, “Common, my ass! The commonest.”

“Fury?” One grabs Fury’s shoulder, but the changeling shakes her hoof off and stumbles towards the pegasus. “You mustn’t shapeshift no matter what or it might come back on accident. Your memory is unstable, and those are actually my eyes-”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she mutters absent-mindedly as she grabs Crest’s face into her hooves, squishes his cheeks, and then she pulls him into a prench kiss, not closing her eyes for a second, and looking into his.

I sit down to One, and she leans against me.

“You know...” One whispers to my ear, “even if we end up pissing off every single bigwig on this summit to the point of war… it was worth coming here.”

Gem hugs Fury and Crest when they finally stop kissing.

“One hundred percent.”

***

Aaaaah! I’M SO NERVOUS!

To explain, it’s tomorrow, well, today. I mean…

I can barely think!

Breathe, breathe!

Okay, let’s start over.

Yesterday was awesome, what with the trip through Canterlot, and meeting Gem’s guardians. Even the guest room beds were comfortable, although we ended up using only two rooms because Three wanted to sleep with me and One, and Eleven didn’t want to sleep alone, if it’s even possible for him, so he piled on Two and Cryo who didn’t mind in the slightest. Today, though, is a new and horrifying day, because it’s the first day of the summit, and I have no idea what to do or where to even start wondering about what to do.

Thankfully, I can reach Gem’s mind from here, because she remained with Common Crest and Half-hearted Fury yesterday long after we left. As things turned out, the free room in the castle had its use after all, heh, so they didn’t have to go to a hotel in the city.

“Calm down, dad,” Gem feels me mentally poking around randomly.

“I don’t know what to dooooo!”

“Don’t worry too much. You won’t be the only first timer there, I suppose,” she chuckles, “In fact, I’m pretty sure that you have more experience debating random minutia than half of the attendance.”

Huh. I mean… maybe? Now that I’m not trembling after hearing a friendly voice, I need to remind myself that I’ve been doing this daily for the past two years, or something similar enough.

“That might be the case, but unlike in Brauheim, I doubt I can take a nap during the boring parts that don’t concern me in the slightest,” I’m still panicking, but my erratic breathing is slowing down already.

“I can buy those glasses with eyes painted on for you, if you want,” Gem laughs.

“Har har,” I pout, “When does the summit start anyway?”

“The guards will come to get you-”

“A sentence which has never ever resulted in soiled pants.”

“-Oh shush. From what I know, princess Luna actually likes us a lot, so she’ll offer a helping hoof if needed.”

“Yes, ponies whom we’ve mind-controlled at some point in time tend to sincerely mean that...”

“Come on, that’s just panic talking.”

“I know, I know...” I breathe out.

“Good. Now, the morning mixer will start in two hours. It’s a semi-formal event for the delegates to get to know each other, and since the zebras always send new representatives because of some coup or other power struggle, everyone will be trying to get to know them. Oh, and the dragons have a new ruler too, so everyone will be more interested in them than in us. We’re kinda insignificant really.”

“Thank holes.”

“The actual summit will start later in the afternoon,” she finishes.

“How do you know that much anyway?”

“I just asked Bright Star. He and Ten arrived last evening from Manehattan. There are always some paladins keeping an eye on the proceedings.”

“Panic returns in three… two… one...”

“You know, dad...” she pauses.

“Ummm yes? There’s something horrible you failed to tell me, isn’t there?”

“Dad, STOP,” her voice grows stern, “and grow a spine!”

Okay, I’m not sure what to say to that.

“We have an exoskeleton, Gem.”

“We used to be ponies, so we have both. Well, most of us do!” she says meaningfully, then realizes what just left her mouth, “Sorry, dad...”

“Am I really that bad…?” aaand the bad mood comes back, although for a completely different reason, “One?”

The long silence tells me more than anything she could say, but what she adds doesn’t help:

“Well, honey… remember when we met Chrysalis in the Crystal Empire when Three stole the Crystal Heart? You folded harder than broken deck chair.”

I growl. Do they think it was easy to avoid pissing off everyone and not repeat the fate Chrysalis brought on us?

“Good, now channel that anger into something useful,” One clearly isn’t impressed.

Say what you want. I will do it my way. If it means bending when I have to and looking weak and soft in order to make sure you can live a life Three or I never supposed to have, then so be it. Other than One, none of them would have lived more than few months at best, and even she ended dying alone in a forest, ripped to pieces by her kind.

“Honey, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then HOW did you mean it?”

“That sometimes you have to appear strong in order to avoid a war. The illusion of power can be as important as the ability to win a battle. Imagine a hypothetical war scenario. If you look strong during the summit without being arrogant and stupid then no one will attack us. If you appear weak and vulnerable, they will attack us and while we can kick ass harder than anyone, guess which scenario leaves us more at peace? I’m not saying that anyone on the summit will be unfriendly in reality, it’s just a hypothetical to make sure you get the idea.”

Gritting my teeth, I leave our guest room on my own. Three is already gone, and One is lying on her back with her eyes closed. I don’t know how I look, but considering that any castle staff quickly hug the wall as I pass by, it can’t be pretty.

“Gem, how many can I take with me to the summit?”

“There isn’t a limit, but I’d advise against taking everyone,” she replies carefully.

“And the mixer?”

“Same thing.”

“You, One, Cryo, and Two will attend the mixer with me. If we want the perception of power, then who better than a queen who kicked Chrysalis in the nuts and almost won the siege of Canterlot.”

“That might be a little too hostile-” objects Gem.

“That’s an order.”

I cut all connections to myself. Of course, it doesn’t work for One, but she gets the idea and leaves me alone as I wander through the castle, not sure where to but one hundred percent certain I want to be left alone for some time.

***

“Woooow, there’s a pool in this one! I wonder who it belongs to.”

Three is lazily hovering by the castle wall, checking out a particular window while trying to look as inconspicuous as his neon pink zebro allows. Obviously, this has left him with a pair of Royal Guard pegasi circling above with another one watching him from the roof. The second reason for the guard presence, however, might be eleven Elevens currently casually hanging from a ledge under said guest room window like black decorations.

The first Eleven climbs directly under the window, and then pulls himself up to peek through.

“Neat!” he exclaims, “Hey, there’s someone swimming in it. Wait, how does it fit?” he beams at his own show of control and proper speaking while focusing on all his bodies hanging, literally, around.

Scratching noises from below, few huffs, and masonry crumbling under unbelievably sharp claws makes Three look down, only to see a strange rusty equine creature suddenly beaming at window Eleven from the same ledge.

“Hi!” she greets them, having climbed two floors in two seconds, “Do you like climbing too? Be careful not to leave scratches, it makes the princesses mad,” she salutes, hanging easily by one foreleg, and looks down at the castle wall brutalized by her quick lunges upwards, “Oops, miss Connie will scold me again.”

“Hello,” Three smiles back, “Eleven here is just practicing, and boss said I should keep an eye on him. And look, there’s an indoor pool in here… somehow. Oh, by the way, I’m Three,” he raises his foreleg which the mare shakes, “We’re here for the meeting of the important creatures.”

“Bubbles,” with both forelegs, she pulls herself up to look inside too, “Wow, you weren’t kidding, that’s a real pool,” she narrows her eyes, “And there’s somepony swimming in it, look!”

“That’s what I said!” adds Eleven.

Three bumps into the window and rubs his forehead.

Something moves in the pool, and the water surface explodes.

A flash of light makes everyone blink.

The window opens.

Spooked Eleven lets go of the ledge under the window...

...and hovers in the air, gripped in a cyan magical aura.

A pink-tinted white… equine with two-tone pink and violet mane, beak instead of a muzzle, and talons on her forelegs is leaning out of the window, eyes narrowed as she watches the congregation outside her room. Her golden coronet adorned with three light blue plumes is glowing with the same light presumably holding Eleven.

“Fluffy...” he mumbles. And he’s right, the strange tall mare indeed is. Come to think of it, she’s easily as tall as princess Celestia which is the only point of reference Three has.

“Prey tell, what are you doing outside my window?” her voice is a little on the hostile side, but she’s obviously more curious than unfriendly.

“We were wondering how they got a pool into your room, miss,” Three scratches his head, now apparently in the position of seniority, “But… are you a changeling? You had fins and flippy tail and everything for a second, and now you’re a pony… a bird pony I mean. Are you bad mom in disguise?”

She narrows her eyes.

“What did you just say?” she asks slowly.

“Umm… which part made you mad?” Three hovers lower and grabs the floating Eleven whom the mare refuses to let go.

“Let’s start with the assumption of being a bad mother...”

“Oh, bad mom? That’s queen Chrysalis! And you changed, so I thought-”

“That I was a changeling, now I understand,” her expression thaws a little, and she pulls Eleven inside. She tilts her head and blinks when other ten Elevens follow, then Bubbles jumps in, and finally Three joins them too, “Now, who are you?”

“Hey, it’s impolite to ask others’ names without telling yours first,” Bubbles pouts, “Miss Anvil taught me that.”

“And is it polite to spy on a queen of another nation first thing in the morning?” she tilts her head, “Although you are correct in a way. My name is Novo, and I am the queen of hippogriffs.”

Bubbles smacks her head with her foreleg.

“Uh oh… miss Connie is soooo going to shove me into a pet carrier for this...” with a nervous chuckle, she bows, “I’m Bubbles, member of the Order of the Silver Sun special task force under sir Cromach. We’re here to keep you safe, ma’am!”

Three’s eyes cross. Everyone here is too important. Where is boss when you need him? Alright, it’s time to do things diplo-wordly!

“We’re with the boss representing the changelings… from the north… near the Crystal Empire,” Three bows too, taking his cue from Bubbles, “Not with bad mom, I mean queen Chrysalis. I’m Three and that’s Eleven.”

“Well, then excuse my rudeness,” Novo extends her talons to Three who shakes them. Eleven senses his moment, and hugs the huge mare’s other foreleg, “My, you certainly are friendlier than most other changelings I’ve met.”

“Just wait until you meet boss,” Three beams, “He’s awesome, even if he worries too much about everything. But minotaurs and crystal ponies are okay with us thanks to him and we have enough to eat without having to cocoon anyone. Unless they want it, of course.”

Novo blinks.

“Why would anypony want such a thing?”

“Kinda agree with the queen on this one,” adds Bubbles.

“It’s relaxing!” Three explains cheerfully, “You can have a nice dream, take an evening off, and all you need afterwards is a good bath. I even heard a pony say it’s great for your mane. I don’t have any, so I can’t tell.”

Bubbles pokes Three’s wobbly zebro.

“Ummm...”

“That’s fake,” Three scoops a bit and boops Bubbles’ nose, “Have a taste, it’s cotton candy.”

With utmost suspicion, Bubbles’ crossed eyes examine the pink blot on her nose, then she licks her muzzle, and her ears perk up.

“That’s delicious! Can I have more?” she starts sniffing Three’s scalp, “Miss Anvil doesn’t let me have too much sugar. She says I’m already hyperactive enough, and that I would get fat.”

“Sure,” Three tilts his head which Bubbles starts chewing on without delay but with utmost care. It’s like a head massage really. Wohoo, he’s doing diplomacy already! Boss will be so proud of him, “You can have some too, miss queen. You’re fit and pretty enough to handle a bite or two.”

Novo covers her beak with her talons, snickering. One Eleven scoops some of Three’s mane, and offers it to Novo who takes a peck, and hums in approval.

“I sincerely hope your… boss doesn’t mind me eating his subject,” she turns around, and walks into the pool which by all laws of physics and architecture can’t be more than a hoof deep until only her head is visible. With a flash, her hind legs turns into a fish tail, and she relaxes with her back against the opposite end, “Now, it would be rude of me not to return the gesture. If you want a dip, this pool is very accommodating. Princess Celestia had it made specifically for the rooms of me and my retinue. Us hippogriffs can transform into what others call seaponies at will,” she shows her tail by flipping it above water.

“Hey, I thought hippogriffs had pony heads and just talons, but fluffier feathers around their neck like griffons,” Bubbles has cleaned up Three’s head into glistening perfection, leaving no trace of any pink mane.

“As it turns out, yes. We, the original pureblood hippogriffs, live on and under mount Aris, and our magic allows us to transform like this. However, griffons and ponies can have hippogriff offspring who can turn out to be like us or like Bubbles here described, without the magic.”

“Neat!” Bubbles walks into the pool, and begins paddling around. Eleven’s eyes dart from Three to the water, and then one carefully lowers himself into the water and starts swimming.

“Don’t be afraid,” Novo looks at other Elevens sitting around and watching the water, “It’s very deep, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Oh, Eleven is...” Three scratches his head, “He’s like one mind in eleven bodies, that’s why we call him that. That means he’s already inside,” he points at the small changeling flapping his legs with an expression of furious concentration on his scrunched muzzle, “We had a bit of an accident in a pool yesterday. It’s hard to swim with leg holes, and Eleven isn’t the best at shapeshifting. I can show you,” he jumps into the pool, raises his forelegs while kicking with his back legs as hard as he can, “Now I’ll make our normal holes in our leg-blrblblrblr?!” he immediately sinks like a rock, and gets pulled out by Novo’s telekinesis. After coughing out some water, he adds, wheezing, “See? Eleven isn’t the best at coordinating his bodies doing new things in stressful situations, that’s why there’s just one of him in the pool,” her reshapes his legs back, and starts splashing water at Bubbles who beams with all her teeth which for reasons unknown to her don’t scare Three off. That’s a new experience, and a pleasant one to boot.

***

Inside a simple office on the floor above, Cromach is sitting behind his desk, reading the guest list for the summit, and his talon stops on one particular line.

“The boss of the northern changeling hive...” he asks. Contradiction, standing at attention in front of him, shrugs, “I don’t like new. New usually means bad.”

“No idea who that’s supposed to be. Maybe your buddy Vargaz will know. Black Ops agents know everything about everything.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll have to ask him later,” he drums his talons on the desk, “On the other tentacle, this could turn out to be an opportunity for a scouting mission for you and your team.”

Connie rolls her eyes.

“Yes, us, the guys who are about as inconspicuous as an active volcano farting clouds of rainbows. A white griffon who sneezes lightning, one unicorn weirdo, a demon, satyr, and a minotaur. We’re the right ones to call if and only if we ever need to infiltrate a carnival unnoticed.”

Cromach snickers at the image. Why can’t there ever be some dark mage hiding in a circus, seriously? Clowns are weird enough already for a crazy unicorn to hide around. But nooooo, it always has to be either a graveyard or the sewers.

“You’re right. We’ll need a good reason to follow members of a changeling royal retinue if we want to avoid diplomatic trouble.”

***

“Wheeee!” Eleven squeaks as Bubbles is holding one above water with each foreleg. Others are circling Novo floating in the center of the pool. Only one is sitting on the edge, wetting his forelegs, and keeping an eye on the situation.

Knocking on the door interrupts their fun, and Novo looks up at the clock sitting atop a small cabinet.

“Oh my, time sure flies,” she darts towards the pool’s edge, turns into a hippogriff in a flash of light, and walks out, “and I should get ready for the opening ball.”

“Don’t worry, miss queen,” Three pulls himself out of the pool and salutes. Bubbles shakes herself off like a dog, and then helps Eleven get out too. Soon, they’re all lined up by the window, “Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll tell the boss that you’re really nice for a queen.”

“Yep,” Bubbles nods as well, “I haven’t met any other queen, but you set up a high bar,” with a smile, she backflips out of the window, “Bye!”

“Goodbye to you all as well,” Novo waves at them, and goes to answer the knocking.

Three flies outside, and sees Bubbles priming for a vertical jump. With a whoosh of air, she’s on the third floor ledge, looking down at Eleven quickly climbing out too.

“Ohh hey, there’s Astry!” she looks down at guard ponies practicing and the satyr sitting cross-legged nearby, “HEEEEEY! ASTRYYYY!” she waves, hanging by one foreleg.

The satyr waves back, then covers his eyes from the sun to see Three and Eleven better.

“That’s a skinny minotaur,” comments Eleven.

“Astray is a satyr. Half-minotaur, half-something hairless and cuddly,” Bubbles explains from above, “He’s really nice, let’s go see what he’s doing!” without a moment of doubt she kicks herself off of the wall, and dives to the ground. Finishing her drop with a roll, she looks upwards at Eleven with an eager expression.

Eleven measures the distance, and comes to the correct idea of not trying to imitate Bubbles. Instead, two Elevens help steady the one hanging from the ledge while other two hang down from the first one’s legs, forming a ladder to the first floor window. The remaining six use the five to climb into safe dropping distance, and then catch the other five dropping one by one.

“Well done,” Three flies down to the pile of slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed Elevens who high one each other, “Boss will be proud of you.”

They approach Bubbles and Astray, the grey-legged and maned satyr thingy wearing a dark green, airy shirt.

“Friends?” asks Astray with a smile. Bubbles nods.

“Mhm, those eleven are Eleven, and the floaty one is Three. I already ate his mane so you can’t have any, sorry,” she adds, looking at the grass and clicking her claws.

“I might need some more clarification on that,” Astray raises an eyebrow when Eleven starts curiously poking the fingers of the arm he’s propping himself with. Suddenly, the satyr quickly opens his palm at sniffing Eleven who jumps backwards so fast he does a somersault. Elevens around the satyr narrow their eyes, frowning.

“I’m Three,” he shakes the satyr’s hand, motion which is followed by eleven heads nodding up and down with utmost suspicion, “I’m keeping an eye on Eleven while the boss is getting ready for the big meeting. Well, two eyes. I can grow more but it makes my head ache.”

“Boss took us to see the big pony city,” the Eleven in front speaks up, and uses Astray looking in his direction for one of his bodies to sneak up on the satyr from the back and grab his hand with all four legs. The satyr casually lifts Eleven wrapped around his forearm in front of his face. Eleven sticks his tongue out at him.

“So… all of these guys are Eleven?” Astray scratches the chin of an Eleven he can reach with his free arm. All Elevens stick their tongues out this time.

“Yep,” Three nods.

“Huh, shows how little we know about changelings,” muses the satyr, and lowers his Eleven down.

“You wanna play catch?” Bubbles asks.

“Sorry, can’t,” Astray shakes his head, “I’m watching the Royal Guard practice. Someone has to report to sir Cromach later. Not that I’m particularly supposed to or anything, it’s just a way to pass time before they call on us.”

Three shakes his head too.

“With all those ponies around,” he waves his hoof towards the practicing guards, “I think I should be serious and represent the boss.”

“Do I represent too?” Eleven gives Three the puppy eyes, not that Three would even want to deny his obvious request to play.

“Don’t worry about it, Eleven,” he beams, “I’ll do the representing, you do you.”

“Yay!” Eleven groups up around Bubbles, “What do we catch?”

“You!” Bubbles beams, “You run around and I have to catch you. Let’s limit ourselves to these back lawns so that we don’t bother any guests. When I catch you, we switch.”

That sounds suspiciously easy to Eleven. After all, he’s quick and she’s alone. He nods, and primes his forty-four legs.

“Alright, on the count of three,” Bubbles stands up and grins, “One… two-”

“Three!” Three calls out, and Eleven scatters.

His miscalculation becomes clear when Bubbles rushes forward with speed even the changelings consider crazy. Eleven instinctively tries to get away from her, unaware that she’s herding him into smaller and smaller circle. It doesn’t take even five minutes before Eleven has to slow down. Bubbles is faster, although their agility is about even. What makes all the difference, though, is Bubbles’ infinite stamina. She doesn’t have to slow down in the slightest.

However, Eleven is nothing if crafty about his bodies.

As Bubbles jumps ahead to force Elevens to move aside again, two bull-rush her legs, making her stumble in an attempt to avoid stomping on them. The rest swarm around and all over her.

“That’s not gonna work,” Astray smirks, “She’s a lot stronger than she looks.”

However, the pile of Eleven fails to break. It just keeps shaking until Astray realizes he’s hearing Bubbles’ unrestrained laughter.

“AHAHAHAHA- STOP- STO- HAHAHAHAHA!” Bubbles just keeps choking, laughing, and gasping for breath, “HAHAHAHAAA- HEL- HELP MEEE- AS- HAHAHA- ASTRYYYYY!”

Eventually, only two Elevens are required to completely disable Bubbles by tickling her sides while the others sit around, grinning in victory. Astray stares in horror.

“You… you immobilized… Bubbles?” he stutters.

“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!”

“I win!” Eleven finally lets Bubbles go, “Counterattack OP.”

“That was… that was…” Bubbles can finally breathe, “cheating...”

She weakly puts her forelegs up in defense when Eleven approaches again, but this time two only hug her, which she reciprocates by wrapping a foreleg around each.

“Rules are for biggers!” cheers Eleven.

***

“QUEEN CHRYSALIS, RULER OF THE EQUESTRIAN CHANGELING HIVE!” yells an earthpony usher clothed in red and gold coat reaching all the way to the floor after a unicorn by the other side of the big double door is done blowing a quick note on a trumpet.

Here we are, approaching a line of various species of ponies, griffons, zebras, dragons, diamond dogs, minotaurs, and Chrysalis who is just being let inside the ballroom on the ground floor of the castle. It seems like the protocol is that someone from the retinue announces the ruler’s name, the yelling guy compares it with the checklist, then the music guy blows the tune, and then the screamo calls the name out.

“IVAN IVANOV, DUKE OF STALLIONGRAD!” a white unicorn with military decorations all over his broad chest disappears into the room followed by two mares, one of whom looks like a secretary with her black formal wear and glasses, and one is obvious eye candy, wearing only a see-through skirt.

“MI AMORE CADENZA, EMPRESS OF THE CRYSTAL EMPIRE!”

My ears hurt already.

Now here’s a solution! I shapeshift myself deaf, and let out a sigh of relief. It’s going to be a long wait. On the other hole, it’s sort of fun to keep guessing who is who as they enter even though I don’t know whether I got the answer right since I can’t hear the usher anymore.

So, the grey ponies with black stripes wearing gold rings around… everything really are zebras. There’s a bunch of them the usher is calling out separately, so wherever they come from must be separated into hives or nations or groups too. A grey griffon wearing only a gold-embroidered black jacket is next, and his identity makes me wonder a little, since he looks way more common than the majority of his retinue. Then it’s the turn of an azure, red-eyed dragoness shooting dominant glares at anyone daring to catch her look.

The line moves with glacial slowness, until…

“Boss, did you think of the name?” asks Gem with urgency, currently talking to the usher.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! Of course I didn’t.

Apparently, no spine means no brain as well.

Quickly turning my ears back on, my confusion reaches peak values when sudden chaos coming from Cryo’s mind reaches me.

“What’s going-”

“BEARD!” she calls out.

“KING BEARD OF THE NORTHERN CHANGELING HIVE!” the usher calls out automatically into the ballroom as we all freeze.

“Well fuck me backwards...” One rolls her eyes, drawing us all into the hive mind.

“Holes damn it!” I sigh.

“Congratulations, beardad,” Two snickers.

“Cryo, what the hole?!” I raise my mental voice at the blinking queen.

“I… I… the beard… studied shadows… and scary crystals...” she stutters out, “Wanted weapons… minotaurs helped...”

“Cryo, not now, please. We can’t have you stuck at the moment.”

“Rebooting,” says Two, and kicks Cryo’s hind leg in the real world as hard as she can without being too obvious about it.

“Hey!” the queen looks down at Two who gives her an innocent smile, “Oh, was I doing it again? My bad.”

“Glad you’re back with us,” I sigh, gradually shuffling into the ballroom, ”Now to just deal with being king of the beard or whatever that pony idiot called me.”

“You can just grow one, boss,” I hear Three who is apparently watching through us, “Like I did with my mane… until Bubbles ate it.”

“Who did WHAT?!” my eye twitches. As is usual with Three, what he’s saying contains too much information as well as too little at the same time.

“Don’t worry, boss. I’ll grow it back soon, and we made new friends!” he adds.

Okay, okay, breathe. First things first. What’s the worst that can happen? They’ll laugh about the beard thing. I might even get to explain it and gain a fun story out of it, right?

Keep walking. Ignore the stares, that’s normal. They’re just curious. Ignore the shaking legs.

“WHAT THE-” Chrysalis sits up from her chair so fast it flips over, now standing on her hind legs with her forelegs slammed into the central table. Her eyes are open wide, but her slit pupils are like those of a predator ready to kill, and her fangs are openly visible.

“Ah, excellent,” princess Luna’s friendly wave towards us is interrupted by Chrysalis’ jerky reaction.

“-BUCK?!” Celestia is standing already as well, finishing Chrysalis’ thought. Her narrowed eyes aren’t on the murder level of Chrysalis, but the open hostility is palpable.

Kinda hard to ignore that.

The thing is… they’re not looking at me. They’re looking above me.

Their shocked and furious glares are all aimed at Cryo.

Thankfully, Luna comes to the rescue, and approaches us first with a smile, giving a courteous bow to me and One walking in the front.

“Forgive my memory, but I do believe I recall only the lady here,” she nods at One.

“Oh, we’ve met-” I pause, “Ah, you wouldn’t recognize me, princess, would you? I was much smaller and without the mane. Still in charge, though, or so they made me believe,” I add with a smirk.

“I see, the one everypony wanted to protect from us. You’ve grown up a lot in the past years.”

“Despite certain fanatic’s attempts at making sure he wouldn’t,” One nods at rapidly approaching Celestia and Chrysalis.

“My sister will explain everything, but she understands how wrong she was. You have to understand as well that the situation was vastly different from today. I had hope in you, and you didn’t fail me,” Luna smiles.

“We need to talk right now!” Chrysalis hisses at me, “What the hive is she doing here?!” she nods at Cryo who is quietly staring down at both princesses and the queen.

“We should all calm down and take this discussion somewhere a little more private than the center of the ballroom,” says Luna.

“Where did you dig up this relic-” Chrysalis downright growls now.

“Shut up, mother,” One steps up and looks straight into Chrysalis’ eyes. The queen’s scowling changeling bodyguard raises her hoof, but doesn’t do anything, having apparently received a mental order from Chrysalis, “My king is too polite to cause a scene here, but it’s clear that you aren’t and neither am I.”

“We need to talk about this,” Celestia’s careful and controlled tone interrupts the staring contest between One and Chrysalis.

“We certainly do,” all heads turn to Luna, “I’ve never seen you so impolite, sister,” the moon princess tilts her head only slightly, but a gesture like that won’t be lost on a changeling.

With renewed peace, or at least a temporary truce, we stop being the spectacle of the room as we follow Luna to a long, wallside table filled with refreshments.

“Now, what was that all about?” asks Luna in a hushed tone.

“That is Cryo!” Chrysalis glances at the larger queen currently sniffing the punch bowl before burying her muzzle into it and taking a long, gurgling draft, “Though I don’t recall her being such animal.”

“One of queen Chrysalis’ generals from the invasion of Canterlot during the great war with the rising changeling empire.”

“Aaaand? I know I haven’t been around at the time, being launched on the moon and all,” Luna says meaningfully, “but a lot of old enemies are our friends these days,” her head turns from Celestia to Chrysalis.

“Cryo staged a rebellion against me during the siege!” growls Chrysalis, “We were so close to taking the castle and ending pony resistance once and for-” she stops, realizing that Celestia is now giving her an unusually hostile stare.

“You know, I was wondering for decades as we were rebuilding what stroke of luck saved us in those dark days...” muses the solar princess who decides to approach Cryo who has successfully polished off the entire punch bowl.

“Fruity,” she hiccups, and a stream of floating pink bubbles leaves her mouth, “Little beard -hic- I might have -hic- a problem,” she covers her mouth, hiccups again, and the bubbles come out of her ears.

Now that’s a strange reaction of liquid and our changeling goo if ever I saw one, and I saw one mix melt through a granite floor.

“Oh dear,” Two opens the nearest window, and leads Cryo to it, “Just try to breathe, and don’t worry about the bubbles.”

“Ahem,” I clear my throat, “Cryo is a member of my hive now, so I’d appreciate if you left the buried past where it belongs,” I lower my voice while looking at Chrysalis, “Especially those of us who have a history of butchery beyond redemption.”

“You talk big for a drone-”

The following crack of chitin fails to resonate through the ballroom only thanks to an incredibly quick sound blocking spell of Two of all changelings.

“Oh dear holes thank you!”

“No problem, dad. All in the day’s work for an infiltrator.”

Chrysalis’ bodyguard barely had a chance to move when One’s downwards punch broke the queen’s muzzle. Even Chrysalis barely had a chance to move.

“You will show my king proper respect,” says One coldly, “and you will extend that respect to my whole hive,” she glances Cryo’s way, “Fail to do that, and we will have words. Your will be ‘ouch’, ‘I beg you’, and ‘please stop stabbing my rectum with my own brutally twisted off horn’.”

Green fire washes away Chrysalis’ horrified stare and unnaturally bent muzzle, replacing it with her usual healthy form and calm demeanor. I can sense her seething under the disguise, though.

“Enough!” Luna narrows her eyes at One, “This is a summit about cooperation and peace,” then she looks at me, “There is no one beyond redemption. Trust me, I know better than most,” and finally, she nods to Celestia, “Sister, I would love a refresher on recent history later, but there are others we should greet at the moment.”

Celesta agrees, gives one final fascinated glance to now slightly foaming Cryo being taken care of by Two, and follows her sister to meet a fourth, smaller, purple alicorn mare who feels familiar for some reason.

“Honey, let me talk to Chrysalis alone, will you?” One mentally pokes me.

“No punching unless she tries anything,” I reply, and slowly walk off, examining the variety of pony food on the tables.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be diplomatic.”

“More threats out of earshot, my daughter?” Chrysalis tilts her head.

“I said what needed to be said. You acted like a total ass,” One shrugs, “And I believe Luna said the rest. That aside, this isn’t your first summit, I suppose. How do things generally go?”

If Chrysalis is surprised in the slightest by the shift of the conversation into the realm of casual, she doesn’t show it.

“Since we don’t control any actual surface territory other than the Badlands where no one really wants to live, much of the discussion about migration or trade doesn’t concern us. I’m here more to show that changelings are still a thing in this world, that getting rocks thrown at us in the street is a bad idea, and that we’re smart enough to contribute to the society at large. You’d be surprised, but this is what I’ve been trying to accomplish during my time of not being ‘evil’. I assume your king Beard,” she snickers, “will be building on the foundations I set up. Speaking of facial hair growth, what’s all that about?”

“It’s a long story...” One sighs, “No, it’s actually a very short and incredibly stupid story. You wanna hear it without your emergency ration tailing you all the time?” she nods to Chrysalis’ bodyguard whose eye twitches.

“That’s my new rank One,” Chrysalis taps her hoof against the floor, which makes her One freeze, “You might have noticed she’s a warrior this time. Plurality of opinion isn’t exactly what I’m used to, but I’m starting to see the benefits as well as drawbacks in these changing times. With Comfort’s ascension, you finding a new owner, and my general loss of changeling power, even my best still have a lot to learn. Good thing we’re not at war anymore, I suppose.”

With tentative peace restored, One, other One, and Chrysalis continue their chat about the current status of the hive, and the better parts of the old days.

Unfortunately, it would be too much to ask for cheer to rule everywhere.

Cryo has finished hiccuping, and is sniffing a variation of smoked meats prepared for the diamond dog, dragon, and griffon visitors, cuts neatly stacked into a fan on each other. She examines a string of sausages, and slurps one up whole. In an attempt to move her head up from the full plate, she notices that the whole rolled up batch moved. A more careful cross-eyed examination reveals that the sausages are all connected, and that the string is stuck between Cryo’s teeth.

“Little beard, I think this food is a trap,” she doesn’t dare move not to start flailing a long string of sausages around.

A burst of laughter from a group of griffon delegates busy with the selection of food nearby, however, makes her straighten up in an attempt to look dignified. That, of course, leaves her in her full huge glory with a pony length of sausages stuck in her mouth, much to the snickering and whispering of quite a lot of guests now.

“Little beard, I’m afraid I’m causing trouble for the boss.”

“Don’t worry, just lean down and I’ll get it out,” Two rushes over from her own examination of mild liquor. Cryo’s motion only serves to amuse the griffons further, at least until the leading grey griffon approaches and says something Two can’t hear over the loud conversations of everyone. The snickering stops immediately, and the griffon attention turns back to food. Whoever the griffon leader is, he is firmly in charge.

In fact, almost everyone loses interest as soft music starts playing from the stage in the back of the ballroom. Some of the more courageous ponies quickly start dancing to the tune. The one who doesn’t lose interest, however, is a ‘loaf of beard’ tall enough to reach Cryo’s underbelly who approaches the azure queen finally freed by Two.

“Beautiful lady got appetite,” the brown yak wearing a crown says in a genuinely appreciative tone, “Changeling don’t mind stuck up griffons. Yak mares know how to eat, and are proud of it. You big, you strong, you represent hive well,” and just as quickly as he came, he leaves the two absolutely astonished changelings behind.

“That loaf of beard didn’t smell,” comments Cryo after a while, “Must have been royalty.”

“Yeeeeah...” Two scratches her head, “I’m pretty sure this will result in diplomatic relations we might not want.”

“Diplomatic cocoon.”

“Yep. Come on, they refilled the punch with blue one. I want to see if it makes you blow different bubbles.”

Whether it’s because she enjoys the taste, or whether she just wants to spend time with Two, Cryo follows her off to try the fresh bowl of drink.

As the event progresses, One notices a large, muscular zebra stallion approaching her with an easy to sense hint of lust coming off of him. A heavy golden hoop hangs from his ear, and there are three around his neck as well, possibly a mark of status.

“I couldn’t help noticing,” he speaks up in a deep, seductive voice, “how you showed queen Chrysalis her place in front of the Equestrian princesses. You are a powerful mare.”

One returns his interested smile, curious where this is going.

“Speechless?” the zebra continues, confidence practically oozing from him, “We, zebras, have this effect on mares. Many even seek us out to join our harems,” he has to stretch his legs and neck to reach to One’s chin despite being taller and broader built than the occasional earthpony guards occasionally visiting the ballroom, “The heat of Zebrica can be… legendary.”

“I do believe I’ve heard the rumors,” One smiles back at the obviously hungry zebra.

“They are more than just rumors, gorgeous,” the zebra nuzzles her neck, “I heard your… king speak, a typical soft diplomat. Why don’t we sneak off somewhere private where I can show you why we rule the fantasies of married mares?”

“You…?” One’s sudden unimpressed tone serves like a cold shower. She leans down to look under the stallion’s belly, “With that?” she starts laughing, “You’re offering that… to a changeling? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What? You got just one? Yeah, let’s sneak off -HAHAHAHAHA- for few minutes -HAHAHA- somewhere private! I think -HAHAHA- I can spare -HAH- a hoof!”

The stallion huffs, now red with indignation. Celestia arrives to see what’s going on.

“Oh my, somepony is having fun,” she comments carefully, keenly aware that the stallion certainly isn’t that somepony.

One wraps her foreleg around the zebra’s shoulders, not giving him an inch to move when he tries to shift away.

“Nopony told me that zebras are so charming and funny too!” says One out loud, “What a lovely chat, but I should go. Business doesn’t wait,” she strides off towards Cryo currently shoving her head into an open window again.

“Diplomatic enough for you, honey?” One asks with a hint of real amusement.

“Yep, that guy might know the heat of Zebrica, but he’ll still need some ointment for that burn.”

5: Obviously, it couldn't last.

View Online

Exactly how it is possible that someone of Cromach’s stature and color has remained mostly unnoticed during the mingler might forever be shrouded in mystery. However, if there was someone who would notice the white griffon loitering behind a pillar in the corner of the ballroom then it would be the grey griffon leader currently approaching him at casual pace.

A keen observer would notice the griffons wearing almost the same clothing - a simple yet comfortable black jacket. However, where the grey griffon’s one is tastefully decorated with gold ornaments, Cromach’s design uses silver embroidery with an added symbol of a silver sun on his back.

Contrary to everyone in the room bowing or at least giving a courteous nod to the Griffon Empire steward, Cromach offers him only a quick salute, which the griffon returns with a faint smile.

“You don’t look happy to be here, your Holiness,” Cromach smirks.

“Emperor’s infinitely sharp sight, don’t call me that, ambassador Cromach,” the griffon makes a fake throwing up noise.

“You should rather be saying Emperor’s hopefully empty diaper, shouldn’t you, Vargaz?”

The current steward of the Griffon Empire, the head of the Imperial Secret Service known as Black Ops, and thus likely the most influential creature attending the ball and possible in the world, ticks off an invisible item on an invisible pad with an invisible pen.

“Execution order resumed. Keep talking, agent, keep talking...”

Contrary to the words said, Cromach just laughs.

“I could use the practice, Vargaz, trust me. I’d take assassins over bureaucracy any day now. That way I’d be responsible only for myself, not the slightly prolonged existence of the whole world.”

Vargaz give Cromach a courteous bow.

“I haven’t had the chance to say my condolences, what with taking care of the young Emperor. The Emperor and the Empire owe you and your late lover a lot.”

“Considering that Crowley was being taken over by Nightmare, the whole world does. All I’m saying is that it would be nice not to have to balance the Order’s budget every quarter of a year after what Blaze, Connie, I, and others did.”

“I am turning a blind eye to your using Black Ops money for Silver Sun funding, Cromach. Considering you’re working for Equestria, that’s technically high treason.”

“I told you already, send some assassins, I could use the cardio. As long as you send me a good accountant with them,” Cromach shrugs.

“I would assume your princesses would have provided someone experienced if you asked,” Vargaz tilts his head.

“Considering that Celestia pretty much caused Blaze’s death, and that due to her idiocy we had to fight the whole Vigil elite on our own, I try to avoid working for her as much as I can. She admitted her fault, but that won’t bring him back now, will it?”

“Then what brings you here if not her orders?” Vargaz looks around, “Some suspected dark threats?”

“Nothing even remotely substantial,” Cromach waves his talons dismissively, “Celestia just wants a show of power during the summit, and Silver Sun seems to mean something these days. It’s free buffet, and I thought my new team could use a break. Last time we were in Canterlot, it wasn’t much of a vacation. Personally, I hate these events as much as you do.”

“Only six more years,” Vargaz chuckles, nodding, “Then the Emperor will be of age to lead, and I can go back to scheming behind the scenes,” he snaps his talons as if remembering something important, “Before I forget, the accountant thing. I can be of help.”

Cromach raises his eyebrow skeptically.

“Come on, the last thing I need is to have to keep an eye on a Black Ops agent doing my finances and sending all reports about what we do back to the Empire.”

“You wound me, Cromach,” Vargaz puts a foreleg to his chest, faking a hurt expression, “Or you would if that wasn’t exactly what I would do normally. However, my word needs to be worth more than gold and gems these days, or the noble families will tear the Empire apart. If you need a perfect accountant, I will provide. No questions asked, for free, no reports to me or anyone else but you. I don’t take my debts lightly, especially big ones like what we owe to you.”

“I’ll consider it. How are things in the Empire anyway?”

“Eventful, as usual,” Vargaz shrugs, and examines the pony food on the table, “As it turns out, Crowley had supporters among the nobles, many of whom used Emhyr’s death to steal some power from their neighbors. Unfortunately, they have much less noble intentions than he had. He would have made such a good Emperor if he didn’t become the pawn of an evil god. Oh well, such is life...” the griffon sighs, “It would be a blessing if you could marry some highborne daughter and move back to the Empire. Or son, although that would be harder to defend, but some nobles do worse things on daily basis. You’d be alright, hero and all.”

“I’m happily in a relationship again, actually, and I like Equestria,” from the corner of his eye, Cromach notices three newcomers to the ball who didn’t suffer the misfortune of having their names called out by the usher, “Speak of the devil, there she goes. The unicorn,” he nods the way of Anvil, Astray, and Connie slowly walking towards him.

Vargaz whistles.

“Oh my. Lucky you, although-”

“The minotaur sleeps with the other guy,” Cromach adds with a smirk.

“I take that back, lucky him,” Vargaz nods approvingly, “I think I should visit Rift at some point while I’m still young if that lady isn’t a complete outlier,” he pats Cromach’s shoulder, “Anyway, they seem to be looking for you, so I’ll go meet the zebra delegates. I’m pretty sure that the one with the dark blue military trench coat and gold buttons is a successor to a dictator my agents killed earlier this year. I need to call in few private favors.”

Cromach watches the leaving griffon, undisturbed by his comments. Soon, though, a much more pleasant sight reveals itself as Anvil, Astray, and Connie finally arrive. With a smug and quite openly pervy smile he lets his eyes linger on Anvil who is fully clothed, which in her case only means even more jaws dropped everywhere around than usual.

She’s wearing tight white pants, which somehow manage to leave even less to imagination than when she’s naked, dark blue jacket with silver buttons and deep cleavage, and for some reason a tricorn hat. On her, it fits. Although anything showing half of what this fancy outfit does would look absolutely stunning.

Connie, on the other talon, opted for a much simpler outfit - a white shirt tucked into a pair of tight, shimmering, black pants. Considering that she has much less to show than Anvil, the same style looks actually remotely decent. Her white mane is tied into a simple, slick ponytail showing her long neck, pretty much the only feature that would make any attendee of the ball look at her over Anvil.

Astray’s clothes are a lot more flowing and airy in comparison to the tightly compressed females with him, which makes sense because he isn’t too keen on showing his ass around, although considering how exotic he must look to most occupants of the ballroom, there certainly are mares giving him impressed stares. He’s wearing simple grey pants with silver flower petal embroidery on their outer sides, and a black shirt with top buttons popped open.

None of the three are visibly armed, but Cromach knows his team. If anything happens, they will be ready.

“Well, you’ve certainly captivated my attention as well as everyone else’s,” the griffon smirks, “And even without the screaming idiot calling out your names. I wasn’t so lucky, and my ears are still ringing. Speaking of big ears, where’s Bubbles?”

Connie levitates four glasses of punch, one for each of them. As she’s busy, Anvil answers:

“Sneaking around,” Anvil points at the small demonette currently hiding behind a pillar on the other side of the room, “Said something about keeping an eye on the new changelings.”

“Wait, what?” Cromach blinks, successfully avoiding spitting out the punch ins surprise and ruining someone’s clothes. Then he waves his foreleg, “Eh, nevermind. By the way, the food is free, so have fun, but if anything happens, don’t kick ass on stuffed stomach. You might get the cramps.”

“Orders received,” Anvil salutes, grinning, “There are few zebras drooling my way, and judging by the scowling of one of Darkhorn’s minotaurs, he’s the more traditional sort who thinks us females should be only firekeepers stuck at home. I think I’ll parade around for a while.”

Astray clears his throat.

“You know, we can do something other than cause havoc,” he nods to the stage in the back, “Care for a dance?”

“You can dance?” she flicks his ear.

“A little,” he shrugs, “Not that I had a chance to practice since I left the orphanage, but it’s not like they can play anything difficult to dance to since there are so many different species attending. The question is, can you dance?”

“Hah, you’re asking me if I can dance?” Anvil crosses her arms on her chest, and then breathes out, “No, I actually can’t,” she laughs at Astray’s stunned expression, “What? I had you for a second there, didn’t I?”

“Hope you brought your paladin sabatons,” Cromach adds with a touch of friendly sadism.

“I doubt I will need those, sir,” Astray gives him a soft but reassuring smile, “Both Anvil and I do martial arts with the best grandmaster in the world. We can coordinate during a simple dance,” he winks at Anvil, and takes her hand, “Shall we?”

They give Connie their emptied glasses, which the unicorn levitates back on the table.

“That’s gonna be quite a show...” she comments, pouring herself a second glass already.

“So are you if you don’t slow down with that punch. I mean, it’s almost alcohol-free, but you’re a serious lightweight,” Cromach absentmindedly grabs Connie’s ponytail and twirls it in his talons.

“Heh, now that I don’t need liquid courage to ask you out, I think I can handle myself,” she whistles innocently, recalling how incredibly wasted she got during their friends’ and ex-teammates’ wedding last year when she wanted to tell Cromach how she felt about him for the first time, “Oh boy, here it comes,” her attention turns to Astray quietly gasping at Anvil’s first step straight on his fetlock, “Martial arts coordination my ass.”

“Wanna join them so that they aren’t the only ones limping tomorrow?” Cromach winks at her.

“Nah,” Connie shakes her head, “Unlike Anvil, I don’t need the attention of the whole room on myself. I just need yours,” she gives Cromach a peck on his cheek.

“I wouldn’t be getting all kissy with me,” the griffon wraps his foreleg around her shoulders, “I just ate that garlic mini-sausage.”

She just leans against him and shakes her head. If this is going to be a boring few hours, it’s going to be few warm, boring hours.

Bubbles, thankfully having avoided being stuck into any tight clothing, and left only with a collar decorated with a silver sun, keeps lurking by the sides of the ballroom, namely where the food tables are. For some reason, there was a string of sausages hidden under the long tablecloth. It was all slobbery with something blue and minty, but delicious anyway, and no one saw Bubbles eat it which was a bonus.

“The patrol should be coming in ten seconds, get ready...” she hears a devious voice followed by a lot of industrial-tier gurgling. Peeking from under the tablecloth, she notices four absolutely huge changeling legs, and crawls from underneath the long table, which reveals a changeling, duh, as tall as Anvil sticking her head out of the corner window, with a much smaller changeling on her back now counting quietly, “Three… two… one...”

The big changeling loudly burps out a thick cloud of red bubbles which is thankfully drowned out by the sound of live music inside. Outside, though, it literally makes the unicorn guard just clearing the corner teleport backwards and scream:

“CODE TWO-ONE-ONE, EXPLOSION IN THE BALLROOM, I REPEAT-” he stops when he hears the changelings laughing out loud with the large one foaming red out of her nose and ears for some reason, “Hey, what was that supposed to be?!”

The changelings quickly close the window and, as if nothing happened, move to the opposite end of the ballroom.

Bubbles can’t help smiling from ear to ear which, unfortunately for his poor heart, is the first thing the guard sees when he gathers the courage to peek into the window again. She immediately realizes what her oversized and oversharp teeth do to unsuspecting ponies, but the guard is already on the grass, clutching his chest.

Few black blurs rush over to the collapsed pony and start poking him from all sides. Bubbles resumes beaming, realizing that the tiny black heads mirror her own smile on a smaller scale. She opens the window and waves.

“Hi, Eleven,” she looks up as she hears soft buzzing, ”Hi, Three!”

“Oh hey, Bubbles,” Three waves back, “How’s the big celebration going?”

After making sure the guardspony is groaning and breathing, Eleven forms a pyramid to be able to peek inside through the window. Bubbles pats the head of the top one who nuzzles her claw.

“It’s a bit boring, to be honest,” Bubbles shrugs, “Why aren’t you inside? There’s a bunch of changelings already there.”

“Oh yeah, we know. We saw Two and Cryo in the window, so we came for a chat, but then everything went red and bubbly, and when it cleared they were gone.”

“The huge one with light blue mane and a small one with red mane?” Bubbles leans back inside to see the duo stalking a servant carrying a tray of multicolored drinks. How can someone be so quiet and sneaky with that size is somewhat of an intriguing mystery to the demonette. It must be a changeling thing.

“Yep, that’s them,” Three nods, “And we can’t go in. Miss One said that this was an important meeting, not a daycare center, so we’re out here with Eleven, exploring.”

“I wish I was out there too...” Bubbles frowns, “Miss Anvil and Astray are dancing, sir Cromach is chatting with princess Luna and miss Connie, and all the dignitaries look super stuffy or busy. Well, there was one grey griffon who scratched me behind an ear and didn’t smell scared. Wait! I’ll go ask sir Cromach if I can go outside. He said nothing bad was probably going to happen,” Bubbles rushes off to badger two figures Three doesn’t know and princess Luna.

The alicorn looks his way, and her jaw drops. Three waves at her, his glowing purple runes leaving lines in the air. She must remember him from the castle! Wait… he was dead when the princesses arrived, wasn’t he?

“Hello, princess! I’m not a ghost, I’m real!” he raises his voice, but Luna clearly doesn’t hear him, “I glow too! Wait, that’s what ghosts do...”

The white griffon waves his foreleg, which apparently grabs Luna’s attention, exchanges few words with the black and white unicorn mare accompanying them, and then Bubbles rushes back, and vaults through the window.

“Sir Cromach is okay with us hanging out. I’m supposed to give you a tour of the castle gardens.”

“Neat, let’s go!”

***

“-and finally, we also welcome changeling king Beard from the northern hive,” princess Celestia opens the business meeting.

It’s afternoon, it’s quiet, and I’m feeling a bit peckish. As it turns out, Chrysalis’ retinue brought charged love crystals which, sadly, they refused to share with us on the account of them being carefully measured to be enough for her changelings, because her hive still wasn’t in the best situation. In my opinion, I think One’s diplomatic downward right hook kinda closed the goodwill door for us. On the other hole, it’s not like we’re even remotely low on love, it’s just that without the occasional refresh, the body just wonders what’s going on.

Still, that concerns only me and One, because Three’s full and so is Eleven. Cryo is currently sleeping in her room, snoring multicolored bubbles, and Two is on the hunt in the city. We’ll be okay if she returns with something as well as later when we meet Three again. I couldn’t really take him to the business part of the summit as a snack, could I?

“We vouch for king Beard’s presence on this summit despite the north hive having no surface territory,” Shining Armor proclaims, supported by princess Cadance’s nodding.

Darkhorn rises afterwards.

“We can also attest to them being a relevant business partner to both us and the Crystal Empire.”

Zebra delegates do the same for the apparently new ones, and in the end Celestia does that for the azure dragoness by the name Ember, currently in charge of the Dragon Lands who looks equally nervous and bored which is somewhat of a feat, really.

One and Gem are sitting by my sides, and while One is quietly observing everyone, Gem is digging in a backpack containing several lists of potential tradeable materials and things dwarves in Brauheim could use. We’ll be doing business mostly on behalf of the dwarves, since we don’t exactly have anything we currently need.

The proceedings start with the leading griffon by the name Vargaz bringing up some forged steel treaty with Equestria, and as soon as he starts reading numbers, I realize that all my nervousness is gone.

It’s exactly like at home.

***

“Okay, guys, let’s take it from the top,” Seven facehoofs, “You have the knowledge. Six gave you everything you needed.”

A drone gathers itself from the floor of the tunnel, shaking its head in a daze.

“Well, we know how those things work,” a different drone points to a hoof-held power drill lying nearby, “But those are made for dwarves, not us. We’re not built like them.”

“That’s the defeatist inside you speaking!” Seven shakes his hoof in the air, “You can do it, you just have to get the grip of things. Digging the hive throne room is the most important thing there can be and, unfortunately, the plans require the throne room to be here in this section of baked volcanic granite. We have two weeks to do this, and I want it to be done by the time the boss comes back. I believe in you!”

One of the drones salutes, spurred on by Seven’s optimistic attitude. It walks over to the dropped power drill, fastens it to its forelegs, takes its position at the end of the tunnel, puts the… digging part to the wall, and clicks the starter button with its free hoof. It takes few seconds for the machine to start humming while the drone has its hooves in the slots by the handle, teeth grit in concentration. Soon it starts buzzing, then rumbling…

...and then the vibrating begins as the drill jumps to action, spinning and pumping like a cross of a simple drill and a pneumatic hammer. One-fifteen’s forelegs go numb within few seconds, and the power of the device starts flailing the drone behind itself. It holds on for several more seconds, and then flies off into the tunnel exactly like the drone attempting this before. The drill safety shuts down as soon as the drone’s hooves leave the handle, and with only few more jumps it lands on the floor along with the bouncing drone.

“Owww...” One-fifteen shakes its head, and looks at few knocked out teeth scattered on the floor, “Awww… now I look thilly.”

Seven rushes over to the drone. The last attempt ended with a dazed but unhurt One-Fourteen, this is worse. He puts a hoof on the drone’s head, and pours some love into it. One-Fifteen immediately fixes its mouth, and salutes.

“Thanks, Seven,” it glances in the way of the once again floored power drill, “I don’t wanna be a defeatist, I really don’t, but we’re not as strong and heavy as the dwarves, and that thing just kicks around too much. We can try digging this out the changeling way harder and without sleep if you and the infiltrators can get some more love, but that rock is just really hard,” he nods to the end of the tunnel.

“We wouldn’t make it in time anyway...” grunts Seven.

A warrior - One-eighteen, raises its hoof.

“Why is it so important that we’re done with the throne room before the boss is back? I mean, he himself said that time wasn’t of the essence.”

“True, true,” Seven nods, “but imagine how excited he’ll be if we have a place for him where he can live as our real boss, not as a guest of the dwarves.”

“Technically, he’s the king of dwarves as well, so the castle is his as well, isn’t it?” asks One-one, an infiltrator.

“Yes, but it’s not a changeling castle! That’s enough questions,” Seven scowls at the new infiltrator, “Now, if none of the drones are strong enough to use the dwarven equipment, we just have to be resourceful. Stand aside, I’ll show you how it’s done using a brain.”

Seven grabs a small piece of rock, and with his horn glowing, he transforms the rock into a stick of chalk with which he draws an uneven summoning circle on the floor. Thankfully, while the rest of the tunnel is jagged and basic, the floor is fairly smooth and even.

His focus is supreme despite all other changelings shuffling nervously away from him. After all, summoning a demon is nothing new to him, right? The glow of his horn grows stronger. All he needs is a powerful demon, a strong, obedient demon capable of using the power drill to show the drones how it’s done. A demon, exactly like he did the first time. The desired contract takes form inside his mind as the spell requires - all he needs is a demon to do the digging.

The energy gathered by his mind opens a hole in existence, and the summoning circle bursts out with flames. Seven grins. Whatever massive and powerful murder demon will be bound to his exact orders and…

Seven’s grin freezes.

“SEVEN!” Comfort’s scream echoes through the tunnel along with few mumbled hellos and waves from the hundred-rank drones, “TELL ME IN WHAT HOLES DAMN REALITY DO YOU SUMMON A SUCCUBUS WITH A CONTRACT TO DIG SHIT?!”

“I- umm- miss Comfort- uhh- I think I- I must have- my mind must have wandered to you-”

“DO YOU WANT YOUR MIND TO REMAIN IN THAT SKULL?” Comfort takes a step forward and her muzzle scrunches against the invisible wall cast by the edge of the summoning circle.

One of the drones has produces a bag of popcorn out of somewhere, and is sharing with a warrior standing next to it.

“I’m really sorry, miss Comfort-” pleads Seven, backing away, “I can fix this. I don’t know the exact banishment spell, but I think I can figure it out in few hours-”

“Screw that!” Comfort stomps the floor, “Let me out.”

“I’m not sure I should-”

“Seven...” she growls, “Look, I don’t think I can have the boss rip your head off, but I sure a hole can ask him to lock your horn and have you dig this whole hive ON YOUR OWN, SO FUCKING LET ME OUT!”

“Okay, okay, let’s not do something crazy we’d all regret and threaten each other with manual labor,” Seven’s back hits the wall of the tunnel.

“YOU SUMMONED ME TO DIG YOU A FUCKING ROOM!”

“Technically, not me, but the boss- AAH!” his back legs give out, and he plops on his butt when Comfort shoots him an almost physically punching glare, “You can leave the circle, you can leave the circle, pleasedon’teatme!”

“Good, so I have to dig through this,” she knocks on the wall at the end of the tunnel, uncharacteristically calm all of a sudden, “You, drones, why is the idiot summoning a demon for this?”

“I-” Seven opens his mouth, his chitin beet-red now as he hears the chittering of changelings around.

“I really wasn’t asking you,” Comfort says with a sweet smile that nonetheless promises slow and painful death by broken off limbs inserted into holes and attached to the power drill, “So?”

“Miss Comfort, we can’t dig out this area quickly enough without a big supply of love,” says One-nineteen, the closest drone, “and Seven is trying to have us use dwarven power tools for it, but we just can’t. We’re too light and weak… sorry...” it adds in the end.

“Alright, sit on your asses until I come back,” in a flash of fire, Comfort disappears.

For some thirty minutes, no one dares move or speak, both out loud and mentally. Then rumbling begins in the distance, gradually drawing closer and closer. Eventually, everyone can hear yelling over the roar of what has to be an engine.

“It’s ten percent luck, fifteen percent skill, fifty percent concentrated POWER DRILL! Five percent pleasure, ninety-nine percent PAIN, AND A THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SIX FUCKING PERCENT REASON TO REMEMBER NOT TO SUMMON ME FOR FUCKING DIGGING!”

Drones scatter as a massive dwarven motorized drill starts chewing through the tunnel without any guidance of rails, but with Comfort sitting in the driver’s seat. Seven screams in horror, and with a flick of his horn teleports everyone behind the tunnel digger. A high-pitched screech of the drill hitting the wall makes everyone’s eyes cross before the engine sputters out, and silence rules the tunnels of the hive again as black smoke pours out of the big machine’s back.

Comfort climbs out of the drill when it stops doing anything, and examines the wall.

“Hmmm… seems this dwarven crap isn’t as good as they say,” she leans to the short dome the drill managed to dig into the tunnel, “Hey, there’s some black stuff here, Drones? Get over here!”

One-thirteen darts ahead, partly curious about the apparently broken dwarven device, and partly about the progress Comfort’s reckless attempt brought. To the drone’s eyes, it looks like the drill broke through a thick layer of volcanic granite and indeed hit something black it barely scratched before burning out.

“Hey, that’s bedrock,” Seven arrives, curiosity taking him over as well, “But that’s usually found way deeper. Damn, there’s really no way we can hollow out this big a section of underground if it’s bedrock. That means...” he sighs, “That means we need to move the whole hive...”

“Umm...” One-thirteen scratches its head, “I don’t think it’s solid,” the drone knocks its hoof against the bedrock, then repeats it, only stronger, “I mean, the bedrock thingy is weird, but to me it feels as if it’s hollow.”

“I’m not staying here until you dig this out!” Comfort groans, frustrated, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuu-” she cocks her foreleg back where it starts burning with pink fire that makes Seven’s horn flicker, “-cckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!” and punches.

She pulls her foreleg out of a hoof-sized hole in the black wall.

“Hey, the little dummy was right, it is hollow,” Comfort pats One-thirteen’s head, “That means I fulfilled the contract. I’m freeeeee!” in a burst of fire, Comfort is gone, leaving behind a bunch of confused changelings, tunnel filled with burned machine smoke, and Seven genuinely reconsidering his life choices.

“Huuuh… if this is hollow, I wonder what’s behind it,” mumbles One-thirteen, its blue eye pressed tightly against the hole, “Nope, can’t see anything.”

“We need at least a little light, I suppose,” Seven shoves the drone aside, and a flying white spark separates from the glow of his horn and enters the hole, “What now?”

One-thirteen peeks inside again, and frowns.

“I dunno. Looks like a wide open space… with maybe something...” it pulls its head back, and then from side to side as the glow of Seven’s spark grows brighter. In the end, the drone shakes its head, “I think there is something in the room, but I don’t have a proper field of view. Can someone transform into a bat or something?”

“Let’s not,” orders Seven, “It could be a nest of flame spiders or something, and if one of you gets eaten then it’ll be up to me to explain how it happened,” he sighs, “Alright, let’s do it the changeling way. Start digging around this section of bedrock. With any luck, it’s not too huge. I’ll… I’ll just go tell loremaster Granite that we broke one of the diggers...” he ends with a sigh, and walks away.

Later, he knocks on the door of the council room, and enters. Six is reading something while Five is idly massaging his shoulders. Granite is the only dwarf here, busy with a different report.

“Hey, guys?” Seven scratches his head nervously, “Digging out the throne room hit a little… snag.”

Six turns his head.

“Look, I tried to tell you over and over, unless we use actual dwarven armor and enhance drone muscles to the point of warriors, we won’t be able to use dwarven power tools effectively. The kickback is just too big. I know you want us to use technology, but we’d burn more love on enhancements than we would by digging normally.”

“Well yes… I see that now,” Seven nods, “Buuut… what about those huge dwarven diggers that you can drive around?”

“We don’t need them,” Six rolls his eyes, “Those are useful, I admit, but the way drones dig is better for soft changes and actually somewhat faster because we don’t need to lay tracks for everywhere,” Six’s eye twitches, “Wait… don’t tell me you took one...”

“Technically… I didn’t,” Seven chuckles, withering under the drone’s glare, “But… purely hypothetically… what would we do if one broke?”

“If one somehow broke on its own?” Six adds, his stare now burning holes in the twitching Seven.

“Nooooot exactly...”

Five pulls out a pistol from a holster around her chest and aims it between Seven’s eyes.

“Start speaking before I start shooting,” she says simply.

“Well, as things go… we kinda wanted to dig out the throne room area faster, and-”

“We?” Six rubs his temples, “I thought the boss gave us specific instructions to simply keep going and don’t do anything crazy.”

“Alright, I wanted to surprise the boss with the finished throne room when he came back, so I kinda pushed the drones a little too hard and I wanted them to use the dwarf equipment, and so I kinda summoned a demon to help us dig.”

“Wait, what was the last part?” Six’s jaw drops, “A demon?”

“Yeeeah,” Seven whistles innocently, “I messed up a little, and summoned Comfort instead, who didn’t take it well and… mumblemumble...”

“What?” hisses Five.

“I said she stole the big digger, drove it to the tunnel, and crashed it into the wall upon which I think the motor burned out… and the drill broke too, because, well, there’s a cave or room made of bedrock where our throne room is supposed to be.”

Granite, rather amused until now, frowns.

“The TX-3 drills are ridiculously expensive in rare materials, both the engine and the drill itself,” he says in a serious tone, “They are the fastest drilling devices we have, but digging through bedrock requires specialized equipment, not these,” he shakes his head, “I hate to say it, but we would require some compensation. Hard Reset and especially Hard Hat will be furious if the digger has to be scrapped.”

Six whimpers, and buries his face into his hooves. Five stands up, walks over to the freshly repaired target dummy, not made of bedrock this time but rather simple leather and gravel, and punches it several times. This being apparently not satisfactory, she pulls out her pistol and empties a full clip to the dummy’s head, each shot making Seven wince.

Two guards from outside the council room charge in, flamethrowers at the ready, and look around in confusion when they find nothing happening.

“OUT!” screams Six, “EVERYONE BUT GRANITE GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

“Sorry-” Five realizes that her weaponized outburst really didn’t help anything, and tries to apologize.

“Accepted,” hisses Six, “but get the hole out. I need to fix this, and I don’t need any hothead accidentally shooting anyone. And Seven, if you as much as show any drone a power drill, I’ll shove it up your urethra and set it to mulch!”

Without a word, Five walks to Seven, grabs him by his neck, and pulls him out of the council room as the two guards follow and close the door behind them.

Six whimpers again.

“Oh great… boss leaves us in charge and at this rate when he comes back we’ll be banished out of Brauheim...” he mumbles to himself.

“I sincerely doubt that,” Granite chuckles, “although I’m afraid I really can’t just let this slide. Losing the drill means a rather dramatic slowdown of our deep core mining operations. There are only five of those operational at the moment. Well, there were only five.”

“I know,” Six frowns, takes a deep breath, and looks Granite in the eyes, “Alright, boss wouldn’t use his dwarf king position to sweep this under a rug, he would admit his mistake and work on fixing this. How can we repay the broken drill, Granite? We don’t have anything to trade or money to pay with, so what can we do to fix this?”

He knows Granite won’t try to screw him over. The dwarf thinks for a moment, and then speaks up:

“The obvious option is for your hive to fulfill the task the digger was supposed to, which would require you to grab the deep core protective suits, and go digging, but as far as I know, you dig with your hooves, and the temperatures down there are too high.”

Six nods.

“I did some digging down there in a suit, I know how to shapeshift properly. Maybe this will be a good opportunity to teach the new drones something useful. And if Seven figures out some heat resistance magic or something, it might not be too bad,” he says, “Alright, Granite. I’ll gather everyone and tell them what we’re supposed to do. One of the infiltrators will accompany Hard Hat and relay to us the digging schedule. We can start in about an hour, is that okay?”

“I do believe so,” Granite gives Six an impressed look, “I’ll have a talk with Hard Hat and Hard Reset to figure out the exact scale of the needed work. Just send somepony here, and I’ll relay what I get,” when Six nods, Granite leaves.

Six just lays his forehead on the cool stone of the council table, and closes his eyes for a second.

“There are ranked infiltrators and warriors around, so damn it, why do I have to be the responsible one here?!” he grumbles.

***

There are two equine figures sitting silently by the pond in the center of the Canterlot castle garden maze, both wearing paladin armors and meditating cross-legged. Ten is completely focused on his breathing and gathering magic into his horn, faint tickling coursing through his whole body as his magic veins draw power from all over him. Bright Star is sitting opposite of him, presumably doing the same. Magic crackles between them, small sparks ionizing the air or making it wibble from sheer amount of concentrated power.

“-”

Bright Star feels the seesaw of energy tip, and gradually releases some of his held magic, which Ten mirrors, and both paladins open their eyes. The unicorn sees Ten’s ears flick and turn. Knowing that Ten’s hearing is significantly better than his, he asks:

“Is anything wrong?”

“Not exactly, I just can hear my guys,” with a smile, he mentally reaches around for hive links, and quickly finds Three and Eleven casually wandering around the maze, “We’re about to have company,” he stands up, and heads into the winding arboreal halls with Bright Star in tow.

Few moments later, Eleven walks from behind a corner, looks up, beams, and rushes towards Ten and Bright Star. Three, hovering above, clears the corner next, and waves at the two paladins.

“Oooh, did we find it?” a squeaky female voice is followed by Bubbles walking in the back, “Hey, mister Bright Star, mister Ten!” she darts forward when she spots the two currently busy with Elevens swarming around and hugging every huggable surface.

“Oh hello-” Bright Star snickers when Bubbles bounces at him with such speed that she grabs his neck armor with one foreleg and spins around his neck to land on his back, “Ooof, careful, Bubbles. I’m an old stallion after all.”

“What are you all doing here?” asks Ten, casually juggling three giggling Elevens as part of his practice.

“Boss, miss Gem, and miss One are busy on the bigwig business meeting, so Bubbles decided to show us around. We’ve scoured the whole castle gardens already,” explains Three, “Two disappeared somewhere, and I thought I sensed Cryo around, but I guess it was you, Ten.”

Ten furrows his brows, and shakes his head.

“Hmm, no. Cryo is around, her link is just really weak,” he starts walking ahead, “Let’s go find her.”

It doesn’t take long before the group of walking and in some cases riding equines find a huge pile of changeling snoring in the dead end of the maze.

“Oh my gosh it’s the huge barfing lady!” Bubbles starts poking Cryo all over.

“Wha- who?” the queen raises her head, and squints at Bubbles jumping around and smiling, “That’s a lot of teeth, I approve.”

“How did you end up sleeping here?” asks Three when Cryo sits up much to the amazement of Bubbles still darting around her.

“Little beard said she had something to do, so I wandered around and ended up here,” Cryo shrugs, “This winding bush is confusing...”

“You’re even bigger up close...” Bubbles pokes a leg through a hole in Cryo’s foreleg.

The queen raises her foreleg with Bubbles still attached. The demonette salutes, hanging by one leg.

“What’s this little beard with teeth?”

“I’m Bubbles, nice to meet you! And I’m not beard, I’m half demon, half pony. Well, not exactly half, more part pony, part demon, part a lot of stuff I can’t recall. I can bark too. Woof!”

“Huh.” Cryo sniffs Bubbles and, seemingly satisfied with the result, puts her on her head. Bubbles grabs Cryo’s horn for stability, and enjoys looking down at usually bigger Bright Star.

“Oh,” Three smacks his forehead, “Hey, Bubbles, can you cover your ears for a moment? I need to tell mister Bright Star something secret.”

“Sure!” she folds her big ears down and puts her claws on them, “Done.”

“Good,” Three lowers his voice, “Mister Granite said not to mention ‘the little guys’ under any circumstances.”

“Got it,” Bright Star and Ten nod.

“Who are the little guys?” asks Bubbles immediately, ears still folded and covered.

“Hey, I asked you not to listen!” Three gives Bubbles a pouty stare.

“No, you told me to cover my ears. It’s not my fault I can hear you anyway,” Bubbles uncovers her ears and folds her forelegs on her chest, still holding Cryo’s horn with her hind legs.

“Wooow, you’re so smart! I didn’t think of that. Please don’t tell boss I screwed up like this,” Three frowns.

“It’s a diplomatic thing, Bubbles,” Bright Star explains, “No one is supposed to know, so keep this to yourself.”

“Mouth sealed!” Bubbles makes a zipping motion with her foreleg, “It’s not like I know anything anyway.”

Cryo yawns, which makes Bubbles jump down. Three flies down to her, and hugs her.

“Thanks for being a good sport about this.”

Elevens circle around the two, and Ten quickly realizes why. To his changeling eyes, both Bubbles and Three look like two little love-filled suns of pure happiness.

His horn flashes. A free refill is a free refill.

***

Finally, the first day is over.

Walking out of the summit room, I shake my head. My suspicion about the event being wildly similar to council meetings in Brauheim proved correct quickly, although this actually felt impactful. No toothbrush hardness arguments, allowed colors of hoof polish, or braids in beards. This was big - migration limits, military support, relief aid… and pretty much nothing about us, really.

We spent most of our time just listening and taking in information about the current state of the world. From what I gather, there’s peace pretty much everywhere. Some zebra countries aren’t exactly friendly with each other, and states loosely tied to the Griffone Empire to the east often take over each other’s border fortresses, but no one is openly fighting anyone.

Gem hides a notepad filled with details she didn’t want to store in the hive mind into her saddlebag, and looks at groaning One who leans against me. I can feel the echo of her splitting headache, and her brooding mood.

“Are you okay, One?” I nuzzle her cheek.

“I didn’t screw anything up, did I?” she mumbles.

“No, you did well.”

“...wohoo...” she cheers quietly, and hisses at a fresh stab of pain.

Her headache is nothing physical, so it just must have been too much for her - too much new information to make sense of, too many things to be careful and wary of not to make a diplomatic misstep. Gem tried to answer in her stead as often as she could, which only served to make One more miserable, although I knew she was grateful not to have to talk about our ties to minotaurs or anything big.

“Let’s get you to our room. I think we all deserve some peace and quiet after today,” I say. Mentally, I add, “Everyone, how are things?”

“We did maintenance on Cryo!” announces Three, “Bubbles even braided her mane.”

Uhhh… what?

“What do you mean by maintenance and who is Bubbles?”

“We cleaned her all over since Two was busy. Bubbles even brought her shampoo. It was for dogs, but it made Cryo’s mane and tail really shiny. She looks like a crystal pony now… well, she looked like one for a while before she fell asleep on the lawn again,” Three’s report continues, “Oh, and we met Ten and mister Bright Star who know Bubbles from some city called Manehattan. Then they played fetch, which I didn’t join because I was being all serious and kept an eye on things.”

His talent at saying everything while explaining nothing is uncanny. I take a peek into Three’s mind for anything Bubbles-related, and receive a good image of a rather strange semi-equine mare with a smile that Comfort would shudder at. Everything in Three’s mind screams ‘friend’ about her, so I leave it be.

“I could use you here. One isn’t feeling well,” maybe our little healing talisman will help even though One isn’t drained or exactly hurt.

“I’ve got a better idea, boss! I’ll bring Bubbles too. You’ll like her.”

Well… I suppose it can’t hurt?

Suddenly, a mass of information flows into the hive mind which makes me blink. It’s an updated map of the castle, now including Royal Guard recruit barracks by the northern wall of the castle, a workshop near the southern city walls, garden maze, and full garden as well including everything I could know if I walked through the places myself. On top of that, the map contains hotspots of magic spread around the castle, although their meaning is still unknown. And finally, it includes common hiding spots on the roof for Royal Guards observing the ground, ground patrol routes, occupants of the guest rooms, and pegasi flight paths.

“A little update on how this place works,” says Two, and I can practically feel her smug grin, “I had to unload Cryo somewhere safe, but I think my exploration was worth it.”

“Wow… that’s quite the attention to detail,” Gem herself adds approvingly, “I didn’t find the magic sources, though. Well spotted.”

“Any idea what those are?” I ask.

“No, boss,” admits Two, “I can sense them thanks to spending time with Seven, but I don’t have his understanding of their complexity.”

“I can help there,” Gem takes a rather educated guess, “There are magic wards inside the castle which prevent unauthorized users from teleporting in and out as well as scrying or generally using any advanced magic. Royal Guards have to learn specific patterns to their spells in order to be able to use them within the walls of the castle.”

“Well done, Two. This could be crazy useful.”

“No problem, boss. When I’m in a situation in which I can’t fight my way out, I need to know EVERYTHING in order to avoid it in the first place. Infiltration one-oh-one.”

“Uhgg… I don’t mean to be annoying, but could you please keep it down?” One interrupts our conversation, “All this hive link communication isn’t helping my head, and since boss here is involved, I can’t cut myself off properly.”

“Yeah, I suppose I’ll ask a different question - any problems?”

A general chorus of ‘no’ is all I need to hear before I weaken my links to help One rest.

She leans against me, and slowly breathes out.

“Honey, I’ll just go lie down.”

“I’ll go fix you something for the headache, mom,” Gem pats her back, “I think I can make something that will work properly even on you,” she rushes off.

“Am I really too stupid for all that business talk?” muses One quietly, “I think my brain is protesting listening to problems I can’t punch my way out of. You, on the other hole, seemed right at home between all those diplomats. Owww,” she stops and clutches her head, “Must not use long words now, and this was just the first day...”

We reach our room where One lies down on the bed, buries her muzzle into a pillow, and I draw the curtains. It’s evening, but at this time of the year it’s still bright outside. Quiet knocking precedes Three, Eleven, and Bubbles walking in, the last one looking around hesitantly.

“Heya, boss!” Three greets me cheerfully, although in a slightly muted tone in respect to One. Bubbles pushes herself to her full almost-earthpony height, and salutes.

“Diplomatic greetings, king Beard.”

“You must be Bubbles,” I shake her foreleg, “Thank you for keeping Three and Eleven company throughout the day.”

“No problem,” she proudly puffs out her chest, “It was a lot of fun.”

“Hey, Bubbles, can you help me make miss One feel better?” Three pokes her.

“Huh, how? I’m not too medicine-y, and I don’t know much about you changelings,” she gives him and then the bed a quizzical look.

“Trust me on this,” Three flies onto the bed, followed by jumping Bubbles, and curls up by One’s head. A moment later, One’s leg wraps around him, “You’re really nice, so I thought that just being near miss One will make her feel better. This is totally diplomatic, isn’t it, boss?”

“I suppose so,” I shrug with a smirk.

“Awww,” Bubbles beams and hugs One’s back, “Diplomacy away!”

As she nuzzles One’s neck, I can see what Three meant. For some reason, Bubbles seems to love everyone indiscriminately, and while she isn’t the source of energy Three is, just her presence must be helping because One’s breathing is already slowing down.

“Sorry, honey, but can you leave me alone for a while? At this point my head aches just from your thinking.” I hear One’s weak voice.

“I’ll go take a walk and clear my head,” I say.

“Hey, king Beard,” whispers Bubbles, “Can you please tell sir Cromach that I won’t make the evening report since I’m here helping diplomacy-ing? He’s a big white griffon who can sometimes look scary, but he’s really nice. His office is on the third floor, and it has his name on it.”

“I’ll be outside the castle, but Eleven, you can do that, right? Everyone else is busy,” I say, opening the door.

“Sure thing, boss,” Elevens salute as one, and follow me out.

“Thanks, honey. Sorry for kicking you out like this,” mutters One.

“Don’t worry about it, just have a good rest for the second round tomorrow.”

“Holes, kill me now...”

***

Eleven splits up with me on the ground floor, waves me goodbye, and then looks around.

Now this... this is a mission that requires infiltratoring! Of course, he could simply go to the office and relay the message, but boss might get into trouble for not respecting ponies properly by sending someone as inexperienced as Eleven. This needs… subtlety.

An opportunity presents itself on the second floor where he finds a laundry basket outside the door filled with colored ponchos and a sombrero. Hah, now a real pony can relay the message. Of course, if he does things wrong, there might be the problem of him borrowing some clothes, but he’ll bring everything back in few minutes. Using Two’s observed patrol timings, he pretends to look out of the window, although five pairs of changelings standing on each other’s backs, one by each window of the hall totally don’t look suspicious at all with one sitting by the wall opposite of the desired laundry basket. As a pair of unicorn guards pass, Elevens quickly snatch the poncho and a hat, and form a new amalgamation of bodies. Two Elevens form each leg, two make up the body, and one with the big hat takes charge as the neck and head. It takes some serious coordination, but today was a treasure trove of experience regarding control already, and Eleven learned things about himself he didn’t know before having to flee from Bubbles. After few stumbling attempts, Eleven starts moving.

Yes, it does look like a marexican ghost is sliding along the floor, but it’s the thought that counts. Stairs prove an unexpected obstacle, although at this point Eleven has come too far to give up, and with some carefully timed hopping he finds himself on the third floor, confidently striding- gliding towards the office identified by both Two’s map and Bubbles’ description.

Okay, knocking is going to be a problem.

After a minute of thinking, Eleven fails to figure out a solution, so the two Elevens forming the right foreleg simply drop and knock normally before reassembling into a leg.

“Come in!” comes from the inside. Head Eleven frowns, and this time knocks the rim of his sombrero against the door.

The second attempt works, and the door opens, showing a white griffon almost a head taller than the Elevens even with the hat.

“Yeeeees?” the griffon’s eyes go wide, “How can I help you?”

“Yo soy muchachos Bubbles will not make the evening report because she’s helping boss Beard with a headache… sombreros,” head Eleven adds after a thought.

“Sorry, ambassador, I don’t speak Sponish,” the corner of Cromach’s beak twitches, “Can you bring an interpreter? Or if you don’t mind, I can ask one of the princesses to come, they can speak most of the delegates’ languages.”

“No no no,” instead of waving two Elevens that form the leg, top Eleven sticks his tiny legs through the neckhole of the poncho and waves them defensively in front of his face, “Bubbles is just helping-” says the right leg as Eleven’s concentration breaks, “-because miss One has a headache, so she-” and the right leg joins in, “-and Three decided on some hug treatment-” Eleven realizes what his torso just did, “Uh oh...”

“Well well well, changelings pretending to be a delegate reporting about my subordinate missing...” Cromach leans to the head Eleven who gulps down some drool, and grabs the sombrero.

“Aaaaaah!” ten changelings immediately scatter like a black wave, and start running down the hall. Unfortunately, the final one is still hanging by the chin from the strap of the sombrero, face to face with Cromach. Having no idea what to do, he smiles from ear to ear. That usually works either for making friends or scaring enemies away.

“Tell Bubbles I’ll be expecting her in the morning,” he boops the hanging changeling’s nose, and then slowly lowers him down to the floor.

Eleven bolts away, an effort quickly marred by the sombrero acting like a parachute behind his back and making him slide back on the floor. Others quickly rush over, untangle him, and all eleven of them flee from the griffon. Eleven can’t tell what’s so scary about him, other than the entire operation failing horribly, but there just is something wrong with seemingly friendly Cromach, something more than is visible, something horrifying.

***

I took a casual trip to the city walls and admired the scenery as darkness finally fell on Equestria. Strangely enough, night revealed a lot more from the land than the day, thanks to many lights dotting the landscape where I couldn’t see villages and settlements before.

Anyway, I’m finally back in my room, and I don’t feel tired at all after all the refreshing cold air outside. I don’t dare kiss One out of fear of waking her up again, although whatever Gem’s concoction was, it knocked One out like a light, so I just shapeshift my legs to walk silently on the carpet, turn the lights off, and leave again.

So, Three is with One and Bubbles, Eleven is with Cryo in the next room, Two has our third room for herself, Gem is with Ten and Bright Star in Bright Star’s estate, and I’m now aimlessly strolling through the upper floors of the castle which are a lot darker than the lower ones and decorated more with the motif of a moon rather than the solar decorations lower. It must be princess Luna’s floor or something. Even the guards look rather strange, mostly dark in color and wearing vastly different armor - midnight purple, jagged, and all in all scary. Oh yeah, and they are batty too - like pegasi but with sharp teeth, eyes with slit pupils, and leathery wings. The main difference, though, between them and the usual Royal Guard pegasi downstairs is that these guys often hang head-down by their hind legs from metal bars hidden in shadows by the ceiling. Weird, I tell you.

It must be late after midnight when I return to the second floor, everything is quiet, my eyes are finally closing on their own, and I chuckle when I see a Royal Guard propped against his spear and snoring.

Wait a minute…

Not just him. A diamond dog guard is sleeping curled up by one door, two zebras are sitting on the floor, their backs against the walls. Quite unusual for all these representatives to be basically unprotected.

“TWO!” I immediately connect to the first changeling who comes to mind.

“Wh- what- dad-? This again?” she mumbles in daze, and I sense a stab of fear from her, “I AM A DRONE AND I’M DIGGING A HOLE!” she starts screaming into my link, which washes away my sleepiness instantly.

“DIGGY DIGGY HOLE, DIGGY DIGGY HOLE!” I scream back, “Good thinking!”

“I’ll be right with you,” she says, and I hear a door slamming open and shut somewhere in the distance behind a corner, “Everyone is asleep! Do we call for help?”

“Last time, there was no help to call for,” I recall her map, “Can’t you sense where the magic is coming from? I think it’s somewhere in my hallway, but I can’t point it out.”

Two arrives, her short horn glowing.

“There’s a lot of magic everywhere around, but I think… Queen Novo’s room,” she immediately turns around and gallops back towards the room near the end of the hall. Two hippogriff guards are propped on their spears, heads drooped.

“Alright, let me do the unlocking,” a burning blade forms around my foreleg, and almost without any resistance I cut a triangle out of the door, and barge inside.

The room being dark means nothing, and I immediately spot the unconscious queen in her hippogriff form at the edge of the pool, sliding into the water with a stream of bubbles. Without thinking, I jump in, transform my hind legs into a fish tail, catch her limp body dropping deeper and deeper, and pull her out.

“She’s not breathing!”

“Gimme a second!” she presses her mouth to the queen’s beak, and breathes some air in.

“STEP AWAY FROM THE QUEEN!” we hear loud voice behind us, and realize that not only the hippogriff guards are fully awake, but that the sleep spell is gone, and princess Celestia is observing the situation.

“She’s not breathing!” I raise my voice.

“Step away, and we will sort it out,” says Celestia calmly. Two and I back off, which the two hippogriff guards use to dart past, and touch the queen’s forehead. She turns into a seapony and back, starting to groan and breathe.

Unfortunately, Novo points at me, grunts, and tries to shuffle backwards.

“No more… please...”

Well, shit.

6: Dishonored, deceased, and downright deadly.

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“Step away from queen Novo,” repeats Celestia firmly.

“Look, we didn’t do anything-” Two raises her voice.

“Come over here, please.” the alicorn interrupts her.

“Come on, we won’t gain anything by antagonizing her,” I mentally poke Two.

“You can’t just fold like you always do! You’re a diplomatic guest and you know this is bullshit!” Two objects.

“Two, be quiet, please.”

I walk over to Celestia, with reluctant Two baring her teeth at anyone staring in tow.

“So, what now?” I ask, facing Celestia.

A yawn comes from the hallway, and the big, white griffon I saw at the mixer pushes past Celestia, clearly unbothered by either of us.

“Gee, a griffon is trying to sleep and now this...” grumbles Cromach, walking straight to Novo who has been moved to her bed. He pokes her few times, a green flash follows accompanied by the smell of ozone, and in the end he turns around, “Energy drain. I assume someone stole her divinity, although not completely.”

“Wait, you couldn’t sleep?” I blink, “How come? Everyone on the floor was out like a light, even I got almost knocked out.”

“Meh,” he just shrugs, “You try to sleep in an office chair with a head on your desk. I swear, the castle staff order those so that anyone trying to work will work under any circumstances.”

“I feel like you’re not taking this seriously,” Celestia frowns at the griffon.

“Not exactly, no. Hard to take something as minor as attack on a demigod royalty seriously after what I’ve been through,” he pokes my side, and in the same way as it did to Novo, green lightning spark makes me hiss and back off. At the same moment, Two snaps her jaws at Cromach’s outstretched foreleg, misses completely as he must have predicted it, and he flicks her ear with a talon, “Besides, if this guy did it then I’ll eat my own paw.”

“Ahem, with all due respect, sir,” a Royal Guard unicorn clears his throat and steps forward. Novo’s guest room is getting rather cramped by now, “We have received reports of changelings spying on this exact guest room earlier today, and even getting inside. Coupled with the fact that somepony we couldn’t track kept triggering changeling alarms all over the castle throughout the day, and king Beard as well as his retinue being the only new changeling guests this doesn’t bode well for them. Of course, changelings are energy eaters, and we’re ignoring the fact that queen Novo recognized him as the attacker.”

“Yeah, makes me wonder why...” Cromach rubs his chin.

The hippogriff guards approach us, and tap the butts of their spears against the floor.

“The queen is sleeping,” says the leading one in a hushed tone, “I would politely ask you to leave, all of you,” he looks meaningfully at Celestia who nods.

“Come,” she says quietly but firmly. A Royal Guard taps Two’s flank with his spear while Cromach points at the door. The griffon seems to be on my side, or at least on the side of common sense, so I don’t object although I can feel Two’s angry mental mumbling.

Outside, even more guards have gathered as well as some guests peeking from the closest rooms at the nighttime hubbub.

Celestia looks down at me standing there, surrounded by far too many armed ponies for comfort.

“Until the situation gets resolved, I have to ask you not to leave the castle,” she says.

“Deal,” I shrug.

“At least PRETEND you’re giving her something you don’t want to! Didn’t you learn ANYTHING about negotiating?” Two’s mental voice would be facehoofing if it could.

“I got as far as I did with honesty, Two, and it will carry me this time as well. Let Chrysalis lie and scheme her way out of things.”

“I am an infiltrator, I am YOUR infiltrator!” Two growls, “How can I help you when you do THIS?! Dad, if you want to play this the right way, immediately contact everyone who is asleep, and tell them to GTFO before the guards get them!”

“I will also require you to gather your retinue, who will be placed temporarily under arrest. For the peace of mind of all our other quests. I know you can contact them remotely, as a changeling.”

“WHAT?!” Two takes a step forward, and stops quickly when met with two spears aimed at her muzzle, “You can’t be serious.”

“This is only temporary,” Celestia adds.

“Dad, you can’t do this,” Two pleads, “I heard what happened the last time you were here.”

“We didn’t do anything this time, Two, and I’m pretty sure they know. As soon as queen Novo wakes up, we will sort this out.”

“And what if she insists you did it?” I hear Two grinding her teeth.

“I can’t have everyone in prison while the summit goes on,” I say out loud, trying to keep my cool, “If that happens, I may as well not attend at all.”

“Then pick a representative who-”

“One and Gem,” I say immediately. The strong one and the smart one.

“Ah, Gem,” Celestia nods, “I almost forgot about her. However, for the safety of our other guests, I’m afraid I can allow only one companion.”

“Okay, now she’s straight up just fucking with you, dad...”

“Then I want Gem with me. She knows all the diplomatic stuff better than anyone else.”

“As you wish,” she says, “However, I still require you to call your retinue. It will look much less… hostile if you do so than if Royal Guards wake them up.”

“Dad, no...”

“Everyone but Gem, come here!” I feel their links light up instantly as they wake up, “We’re in trouble, but stay calm.”

I share the memory of what happened and what’s currently going on with them while we wait. To my surprise, they feel more annoyed than worried.

“Meh, better a day in prison than on another meeting,” One shrugs, leaving the suite accompanied by Three and rather confused Bubbles.

“Awww, queen Novo was really nice,” sadness is practically dripping from Three’s link, “She needs 20 cc of hugs pronto! And the baddie needs to go to remedial friendship camp. What does cc mean… couple cuddles? Hmmm… that’s going to keep me awake all day in prison.”

“You’re really not bothered by someone CLEARLY conspiring against us?!” Two can’t believe the lax responses of everyone.

“Obviously, we are,” Gem joins in, “However, they’re most likely to imprison us in the castle dungeons and, well...”

“Been there, fled that, got the T-shirt… and the changelings,” One finishes the thought.

“Besides, it’s all a big misunderstanding,” Eleven adds his bit to the conversation, “Queen Novo wouldn’t teach me to swim properly if she wanted us jailed.”

“And escaping from the dungeons could actually be way easier than from the castle itself if need be,” Gem explains, “The boss and I will be in the most danger if this is some trick to get us. Still, I’m an equestrian citizen unlike the rest of you, so I’ve got the law on my side, and I know some really good mob lawyers. I mean, experts on law analysis-”

“Too late to save your good girl image, kiddo,” One snickers.

“And this, Two, is why you don’t piss everyone off immediately, and give yourself time to think,” I say, “Imagine how many more eyes we would have on us if we didn’t cooperate quietly. Sometimes, prison can be the safest place to be in.”

“I… I’m sorry, dad,” she sighs, “I didn’t mean to call you spineless...”

“You’re not the first nor the last, I assume.”

By now, everyone is cautiously walking towards us, and guards of all shapes and sizes are glaring at Cryo. She yawns, showing a mouth full of teeth, her fangs almost as long as Celestia’s horn each. Less courageous creatures back away. I swear, Cryo is way smarter than she lets on.

Bubbles sneaks around, and jumps on Cromach’s back, whispering something into his ear. The griffon shakes his head in response.

“So, here goes,” I say out loud just to pretend I didn’t tell them everything already through the hive mind. Let’s not reveal the details of we can do, “Queen Novo has been attacked, we’re the suspected party, and you’re to follow the guards quietly. I’m under house arrest until things are sorted out. Gem will be with me on the summit.”

“Alright, king,” One bows, keeping things official, “Let’s go, and let the guards figure it out. Quickly, if possible.”

After Royal Guards fasten suppressor rings onto the horns of everyone… and call for more when they run out thanks to Eleven, Gem and I are led off to our respective rooms, and the hive mind goes quiet.

It remains quiet only for a short while, though. Gem decides to sleep in my room in case of trouble, and pretty soon we’re both lying on the bed, eyes closed and pondering the situation.

“Greeeeat… and here was I thinking I could get some sleep,” I hear One complain. While I can’t connect to her completely due to the suppressor, it seems we can at least communicate.

“Seriously, what’s with the wailing and screaming?” Two joins in.

“What’s going on?” I ask, if only to see whether or not they can hear me.

“Someone’s really sad down here, boss,” Three explains, “Wait, you can hear us! We can hear you!”

“Yeah, the suppressors should be preventing that, and I can’t see what you see, but at least we can communicate like this. We must all be a lot stronger than we used to.”

“Would be a pretty pitiful state of affairs if we weren’t, after all we’ve been through,” comments One, “Anyway, things are like this - we’re split up in the cells, and there’s someone sobbing, groaning, and occasionally yelling outside.”

“I really wouldn’t expect castle dungeons to be a happy place,” says Gem.

“IMAGINE HOW AWESOME THAT WOULD BE!” Three squee’s, “We could make all the prisoners into friends and have a big reformation party! The guards and princess Celestia would be so surprised.”

“Huh, could be worth a shot on the off chance it would give her a heart attack,” One sneers, “Wait, can alicorns even have one, cheating three-in-one bastards that they are?”

I think it’s time for some royal orders here.

“Everyone, go to sleep. It’s been a long day, so let’s think about things when we’re well rested and calmer. Goodnight.”

***

Alright, so the good thing is that I can walk around the castle as much as I want, although I have to wear a bracelet which supposedly tracks my position and will trigger an alarm if I leave. Granted, when the guards put it on me earlier in the morning, it took all I had to resist the temptation to wave the hoof outside the window just to see what happens.

Aaaanyway, it turns out that Gem really isn’t bound by the same rules that I am, and that she’s free to go about her business as usual. Of course, she immediately noticed ponies following her when she did her experimental trip around upper Canterlot. Am I being overly optimistic if I think that Ten’s paladin status will mean he won’t be followed? Yes, I am.

After my morning walk, I return to my guest room, and I catch a blur from behind the window. Narrowing my eyes, I open it and look around. Nothing. It doesn’t take a genius to assume I’m being followed as well… for some strange reason since the bracelet is doing its job. Plus, someone must have known I wasn’t in the guest room.

Hmmm… planting evidence against me in the case of attack on queen Novo?

Since I have some six hours left before the second meeting, nothing is stopping me from scouring every inch of all our rooms for anything even remotely suspicious. Considering that I have experience of several damn good infiltrators at my disposal, it comes as a surprise and… to be honest… mild disappointment that I don’t find anything.

Oh well, it helps pass time until Gem returns and day two of the summit begins.

***

“What do you think is really going on?” asks Two with minimal expenditure of love.

“Wrong place, wrong time, I assume,” replies One, “Although someone spying on our empty room from the outside is suspicious.”

“I mean, why would someone attack first princess Cadance and then queen Novo? They don’t look like someone who would have a common enemy.”

“To be completely honest, I couldn’t care less. I’ve adopted the dwarven approach - as long as no one targets us, they can do whatever,” One shrugs inside her cell, “Of course, if someone as much as touches the boss, I’ll happily commit back-alley cosmetic surgery on them with a rusty butter knife.”

“That’s the thing, really, isn’t it?” Two sneers, “Everyone has been telling me that I can’t be there to solve all problems, so I need to think ahead to prevent them. And here we are, sitting locked up while dad and Gem are on the summit. We should be outside, trying to figure out who attacked Cadance and Novo, and proving that dad is innocent.”

“The second we escape, guards will start swarming around the boss,” One sighs, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I think I can take the suppressor off- AAAAAAAAAAAARHGGG!” Two’s scream can be heard both in the hive mind and the real world.

“Huh, the screaming stopped,” comments Cryo.

“I stopped trying to unscrew that damn thing from my horn...” groans Two.

“Not you, little beard. That loud crying from the other cell,” Cryo corrects her.

“Whoever was imprisoned there probably passed out,” says One, “Thank holes, actually. It was pretty annoying.”

“Or they’re dead,” Two goes straight to the radical conclusion, “And no one will know until they can smell the corpse from the outside. There hasn’t been anyone checking up on the prisoners since yesterday, and that was only one set of hoofsteps anyway.”

“Mmmmm...” whimpers Three.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” another scream resonates through the underground.

“Stop that, Two!” One snaps at her, “Only I might be able to take the suppressor off on my own. You’ll just fry yourself if you keep trying.”

“I refuse to sit here and wait until some nutjob attacks someone else, and dad gets blamed again,” Two pouts.

“Oops… I broke it,” they hear Cryo, “Uhhh… will boss beard have to pay for the ring thing or something?”

“What do you mean by ‘broke it’?” One physically leans backwards.

“Little beard figured out trying to unscrew it from one’s horn was a bad idea, so I was curious what would happen if I squeezed it, and I tried with my both hooves. It sort of broke… will I have to walk around Canterlot with another advertisement?”

“If you really crushed it, then certainly not,” snickers One, “Now sit there and don’t accidentally break the world.”

The lock of One’s cell door clicks.

“Wasn’t me!” says Cryo immediately.

“Okay, I take it that someone unlocked your door too?” asks Two, “Still think this is a coincidence?”

“Mhm,” Three agrees, and gasps as his door opens. Eleven’s head peeks inside, and another one rushes inside to give Three a hug, “Wait, did you do it, Eleven?”

“Nope, I just went out to look if someone was there, and there wasn’t,” explains Eleven, peeking into the cell of every changeling prisoner. Afterwards, he checks the next door which fails to open, “And it’s only us. Does it mean that the ponies realized we’re not the bad guys?”

“Okay, screw this! On unscrew in this case,” One grits her teeth, and starts unscrewing her suppressor. Gold lightning arcs through her and sears the entire cell as Eleven jumps out and closes the door again. With nothing more than groaning and seeing double, One eventually tosses the suppressor on the charred floor, “Eat this, Comfort! I can do this too now, and I don’t scream all the time like a little bitch.”

One rushes to Two’s cell, and sees Cryo’s gigantic forelegs clamp around Two’s horn. A moment of pressure later, the suppressor cracks and drops on the floor in pieces.

“What happened to staying put?” snickers Two while unscrewing the suppressors from Three and gathered Elevens.

One gives her a flat stare.

“Hey, honey,” she calls out to me, “the doors to our cells just unlocked on their own while none other did. Do you think we should stay put?”

“What?!” sitting at the meeting table, I exchange glances with Gem whose jaw drops a little, ”Of course not. Get the hole out of there, and figure out what’s going on. Gem and I will deal with whatever happens here.”

With a raised eyebrow, One gives Two a smug look.

“Yeah yeah...” Two rolls her eyes, “The sewer drains?” she asks.

“I’ll leave that up to you, but go quickly. Spread out, and regroup outside of Canterlot. If they added more alarms since last time, the ponies will know that you escaped and will likely chase you. I’d like to avoid fighting as much as possible. Pick a place and time I won’t know, and when you’re back together, figure out a way to proceed.”

“You heard the boss,” says One, “Get to shapeshifting. Each of you will take a different drain, and I’ll contact you when we’re down in the sewers. Close your links so that Chrysalis’ guards can’t sense us.”

With all the changelings in the dungeon hallway, it’s Three’s voice which stops the escape operation.

“I’m not going,” he says.

“You heard the boss’ orders,” One leans down to him. Three smiles at her in response.

“You should go, I’m not arguing that, but I’m useless at running… or at fighting. You know me, I’m much better at making sure ponies don’t see us as scary. I’ll stay here, in my cell, and explain what happened to the guards. I’ll tell them we don’t mean anything bad by this, but that we’re just worried. A gesture of good intentions can go a long way.”

“Deal, go!” I order.

“Honey, are you serious? Three could be in deadly danger,” One can’t believe her ears.

“Someone WANTS you to escape. My best guess is that there are more things happening at the same time. No one could have known that we would have stopped the attack in the Crystal Empire, and then one at Novo. I think someone is just using us accidentally getting in the spotlight to make ponies mad at changelings to gain some diplomatic advantage on the summit. This might throw a wrench into whatever plan is going on.”

“That’s a LOT of random guesswork, dad,” says Two, “Honestly.”

“Yep, so why are you still standing there, not shapeshifting and figuring things out? You do know that without the suppressors I can now see through you again, right?”

“We’ll be back with someone’s head, honey!” One points at the doors, and darts into her own cell. A moment later, all changelings are escaping through the various cell drains as rats or insects, all but Three who sits down inside his own, takes a deep breath, puts his suppressor back on, and listens.

***

The door to Cromach’s office opens, making the griffon currently sleeping in a let’s say… newly manually imported comfortable armchair with his hind legs on the table twitch and open one eye.

“What went wrong, Connie?” he mumbles.

“Sir, the changelings have escaped,” the unicorn salutes.

“All of them?” the serious message doesn’t faze the griffon in the slightest.

“King Beard is attending the summit, if it’s not a different changeling pretending to be him, and so is… I think Gem is her name? The equestrian citizen one,” Connie taps her hoof on the carpet, “Oh, and the small, glowing one remained in his cell.”

“Ah yes, the cotton candy one,” Cromach stretches his forelegs, and yawns.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not taking this seriously, sir?”

“Why should I?” he shrugs.

“Because it’s our job to protect the summit from dark forces, maybe? And I know you’re not a fan of princess Celestia, but what if the escaped lings attack somepony again?”

“They didn’t do it,” Cromach sighs, “Divinity reacts to divinity. I can feel Harmony’s mark on you, and you might eventually be able to sense my power. Funnily enough, I felt more divinity from the small infiltrator redhead than from Beard, and that was still nothing even compared to you. Whoever drained Novo must have escaped before Beard got into the guest room, or maybe they didn’t finish the job because Beard arrived.”

“Then why would the changelings escape?” Connie rolls her eyes, “Right right, the usual story narrative thing - if they know they’re not behind the attack, then they either want to figure out who is, or they just want to hide for a while. I suppose we can’t have them run around and punch random ponies until they find somepony who knows something by sheer luck...”

“Yep. Grab Anvil and Bubbles, and see what you can find.”

“Astray?”

Cromach clicks his beak, and shakes his head.

“How did the changelings escape?”

“That’s the weirdest thing. Their cells were all unlocked, suppressors damaged on the floor, or missing altogether, but the dungeon guards didn’t see anyone escape or go in through the only access route. And before you ask, there were no marks of changeling venom or magical influence on them.”

“The sewer drains then,” says Cromach, “Start under the castle and see if you can find something.”

“You still haven’t answered me why not take Astray as well.”

“Oh? I just want someone to sit on the summit instead of me. It bores me to no end, and I haven’t slept properly, that’s all… almost all, now with your report. I’ve got an idea. Plus, he doesn’t have the combat power of you or Anvil, and neither the tracking ability of Bubbles.”

“One last thing, sir...” Connie shifts her hooves, “Are you sure about this? It’s all guesswork.”

“Not entirely, Connie. I spent most of tonight and this morning talking to everyone. Novo said she saw red light and a tall, black figure who certainly might have been Beard, but it also might have been Luna, or Celestia painted black, or a hooded scarecrow with a lamp from the red light district, really. I also checked up on Chrysalis, who said that while changelings actually can drain divinity, it requires a special process and leaves marks she would easily sense, and she didn’t sense anything like that from Beard. Of course, because she’s a changeling too, no one really wanted to listen to her.”

“And you trust her?” Connie raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Chrysalis was Blaze’s good friend, and despite Shadowstep and her guys leaving her and joining Silver Sun, I haven’t had any problems with her. Pretty fun drunk too, although somewhat grabby.”

“You… went out drinking with… QUEEN Chrysalis?”

“Multiple times, actually,” Cromach says, carefree to the point which makes Connie’s eye twitch, “Though she has to transform into a pony to metabolize liquor, and to avoid press attention.”

“You need to take this more seriously!” Connie stomps her hoof.

“You need to get moving before the changelings escape too far,” the griffon winks at her, smirking.

“You’re just trying to make me mad in hopes this will lead to angry sex!”

“Guilty as charged,” Cromach shrugs, “Will it?”

“Of course it will! But first, I’ve got changelings to catch,” Connie rushes out, and slams the door behind her.

***

One finds herself staring at a cave-in.

She’s managed to get through the castle drains and escape into the old mining complex inside Canterlot mountain without being tracked, seen or heard, and after reaching the central hole leading from the top of Canterlot mountain all the way down to the underground mines, she’s found that a part of the ridge spiraling on the circumference collapsed at some point. This certainly wasn’t like that before.

Examining her mental map of the underground, she decides that from here she should hear the others approach, and enhances her ears.

Soon, the quiet pitter-patter of tiny hooves reaches her ears, and One…

...One’s jaw drops when less than Eleven-sized Cryo trots out of the tunnel mouth ahead, and sits down by One’s hooves.

“I’m stuck...” announces the queen in a high-pitched buzz.

Come to think of it, One realizes that she has never seen Cryo make any major changes to her body.

“Give me a second,” One concentrates, reaches into Cryo’s mind, and withdraws, “You know what? Nevermind. You’re too big for this tunnel in your real body, and we don’t know what else might collapse.”

The stoic azure queen just shrugs, sits down, examining her tiny hooves, and waits.

“I thought we decided not to use mental links-” they hear Two’s voice in their heads, and the infiltrator clears the same corner from which Cryo arrived. An ear-to-ear smile explodes on her face, and she literally pounces on the tiny queen, “OhmygoshyouaresosmallIwanttoeatyouupandsqueezeyouand- ouch!”

She actually does pick the queen up and tries to squeeze her, only to find out that she might be small, but has the density of a diamond which scratches Two’s chitin.

“Who’salittlebeardnow? Yesyouare!” Two keeps nuzzling Cryo’s muzzle, “I’m gonna carry you on my head like a little changeling hat!”

The queen seems to take offense with that, and with a simple stretch of her forelegs, she pries Two’s legs off of herself. Then she sits down, puts each tiny hoof under Two’s hind leg, and pushes. Two simply slides upwards, now being effortlessly held by the sitting changeling approximately one fifth of her size.

“I’m the biggest beard there is!” Cryo puts Two down, and crosses her forelegs on her chest in victory, “But I’m stuck like this...”

“I heard,” Two nods, “Anyway, I haven’t noticed anyone following me. How about you?”

“No, and I’ve been sitting here and listening for a while,” says One. Her ear twitches, “Eleven is here.”

The carefully trotting herd of changelings arrive, and one looks down over the edge into the depth.

“Don’t worry, we can carry you down no problem,” Two pats the nearest Eleven’s head.

“I have a better idea,” Eleven shakes one head, “Three was right. He’s not a fighter nor a runner, and it’s similar with me. I don’t have your stamina, and I would slow you down if you had to run away. I’m good at hiding, though, so I think I should stay here and keep an eye on the boss.”

“We can carry you, I mean it,” Two shrugs, “It doesn’t really drain us at all. You’re light.”

“You know, I’m actually for it,” One furrows her brows, “We won’t be running far, we can’t. At worst, we’ll end up in the forest around lower Canterlot and then we’ll go back. I can’t reach the boss from here, but if we have Eleven in the city, he might be able to act as a mental contact between us and the boss. All he needs is just to stay tucked away somewhere, invisible.”

One freezes when her ears pick up an echo of something she can’t identify.

“Someone is around. It could be just a maintenance pony, but I’m not risking anything. We’ll have to scatter again, because fighting is the last thing we want. Eleven, turn invisible and hide. Make your way somewhere safe,” she quickly points out three sewer exits on the hive mind map - one from the underground mine, one in lower Canterlot, and one on the bottom of upper Canterlot foundations. “Open your mind links once you’re outside, and shapeshift into ponies. We’ll group up. If you know you’re being followed, warn the rest and we’ll surprise anyone trailing you. Links off, lings move!”

***

Six limps out of the council room, head hung low in a picture of total misery. He yawns, and walks into the wall.

“Ah, damn it!” he mumbles and shakes his head. At least the bump made him wake up a little.

Five quietly passes him by, headed towards the nearest staircase up.

The drone sighs, trying to make some sense of the chaos inside his brain.

“Okay, council meeting’s over. Next up is Hard Reset’s class, then I need to check the progress on the new digger...” he mumbles to himself while walking through the Brauheim castle, “That gives me… two-ish hours to get some love, and five hours to sleep… four in the worst case, and then the magma digging. Right, right...”

Six is more summarizing things for himself than planning anything, because this is the third day of paying off the broken digger, and it’s been exhausting to say the least. But, thankfully, Seven hasn’t done any more damage, and Five has just been sitting in on the council meetings, listening and barely talking.

It sucks…

“I really shouldn’t have blown up on them like that.”

With one more sigh, Six gets ready for another filled day and night.

Two floors higher, Five enters the castle library without knocking, and her murderous glare immediately interrupts Seven’s complaint at someone breaking the silence of the place.

“We need to do something for Six,” she says firmly, ”You’re a stallion, broadly speaking, what do you guys like?”

“If you have to ask me about what would help Six, you’ve been doing something really wrong for the past two years. You’re the one sleeping with him,” Seven shrugs.

“Is that all you can think about?” Five rolls her eyes.

“I’m a changeling who spends most of his time studying magic alone in the library. I need love or lust or anything companion-y. Why aren’t you feeding Six so that he isn’t passing out whenever he blinks?”

“I AM!” Five barks at him, “Whenever he’s asleep, I’m there to transfer what I got earlier. The problem is that he’s a drone, and he simply doesn’t have the capacity to keep up with this pace he set for himself. This cycle of refilling and exhausting himself is physically hurting him.”

“How did the boss do it?” asks Seven.

“He’s a king, not a drone.”

“I mean before he was a king.”

“From what I know, he mostly just lay hidden out of sight and ordered everyone around,” Five shrugs.

“Aaaand we can’t have Six do it like that because…?”

“Because both of us are braindead when it comes to the council meetings, we have all four hooves left when it comes to digging, and don’t even get me started on attending Hard Reset’s tech classes. I was there once, fell asleep, and accidentally swallowed a wrench. Don’t ask how that happened,” Five raises her hoof, “And if we tried to just be the proxy for him to listen through, it would only drain him even worse.”

“Are we really that useless?” Seven taps his hoof on the table, and closes the book in front of him, “I mean, even the hundred-numbered drones are at least doing the digging.”

Five slumps into an armchair next to Seven’s.

“We are… specialists,” she says slowly, “And right now, the hive isn’t in a position to use our skills.”

“This can’t be right,” Seven frowns, “You’re the top brawn and I’m the top brain here right now. We must be able to figure something out. After all, this is a challenge, and this situation threatens the hive in a way. What if we think about it like this - Six being exhausted to the point of passing out or making mistakes in decisions is our enemy.”

“Hard to punch an abstract concept, Seven...” Five crosses her forelegs on her chest.

“Every enemy is vulnerable, and if your speciality is physical attack, we just need to figure out where to punch, metaphorically.”

“I can punch you perfectly literally if you don’t start making sense.”

“Listen, threatening me won’t help you, so how about you shove a hoof an inch deeper into your mouth whenever you feel the need to punch me.”

“And what do I do after my foreleg comes out of my ass?”

“Hoof in!” Seven scowls at her.

“Mmmmph...” Five actually does it.

“Now, you can either help his body recover, or help him fight stress by making him forget about what happened during the day and avoid thinking about the same routine waiting for him the next day,” Seven has slipped into his academical tone, stood up, and is pacing around, “The first idea would mean a massage that works on changelings and, to be honest, I don’t have any reference material for that. Of course, you are free to rub Six all over as much as you want, it just won’t help the muscle regeneration.”

“Can I shove a spiked hoof up your asshole now, or will it cause brain damage?” asks Five, “Six is a drone. He’s used to physical work. I don’t think that’s what’s draining him.”

“That’s where number two comes in,” Seven ignores her insult.

“No, ass is where number two comes o-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” a flying book smacks Five’s head, “If this is about mental pressure, then it’s stress, and as I said, you need to make his time off worth it, make him forget about everything for a while. Now, how does the sphincter of this operation do that?”

“Whuh?”

“Sphincter is a muscle keeping the asshole shut. I think it fits you,” Seven gives now fuming Five a smug glance.

“A roll in the hay comes to mind,” Five says after a moment of thought.

“And we’re back where we started,” Seven sighs, “You need to make it special if you can’t come up with anything else. Have you thought about… lingerie, oils… I don’t know, something that’s not that rough, acrobatic nonsense One does to the boss? Something gentle but captivating? Think, muscle. Figuring out how to do this is on you. I don’t know what Six likes.”

That hits Five like a bullet.

“...neither do I...” she breathes out, “We just always… you know… just did it. When we spent time together, I was doing my stuff and he… was around, that’s all. Happy to be there.”

Seven rolls his eyes.

“Alright, are you willing to risk your relationship for this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That you need to start trying stuff out. Go buy some sexy lingerie, dance for him tonight. If it fails, we’ll try to figure out something else tomorrow. And so on and so on. It’ll be hit and miss, and some things might make it only worse, but if we do nothing, it will get only worse. Got it?”

Five nods.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got some bits from when I subbed on guard shifts-”

“No need,” Seven’s horn flashes, and a half open bag of gold coins appears on the table, “Take this. It’s from the castle treasury.”

“You do realize we’re currently paying off a digger. We can’t add to that.”

“The dwarves won’t notice. The digger was filled with electronics, effort, and rare materials. This is just gold, already in coins so not the industrial kind. This doesn’t count.”

Five decides not to argue with that logic, and grabs the bag.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“And I’ll switch up my reading material a little just in case we need a plan B.”

“How likely is that we’ll need one?”

“You’re his marefriend who knows nothing about him and I’m… me. Take a wild guess,” Seven gives her a flat glare. With another sigh to add to her collection, Five leaves the library.

***

White lace stockings, a thong, and a soft, silk corset adorning her body. The one and only crystallized rose tucked behind her ear. Her tail tied into a loop to show off her tight butt. Faint white lipstick, and hoof polish lightly contrasting with her black chitin.

Feeling ready, Five enters Six’s room in the castle without knocking and with soft swaying of her hips. The drone looks up from a book he’s reading, and gives Five a worn out but heartfelt smile.

“You look great, Five. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing big, really,” she saunters over to him, “I thought you could use something or someone to take your mind off of things.”

“Heh,” Six chuckles, “To be honest, I could use something to keep my mind on things. I could barely focus on the engineering lecture today, so I’m trying to catch up instead of running around and hunting for love. Speaking of which… umm… could I get a little refill?” he waves his hooves in front of himself, “It’s okay if you don’t want to-”

Five presses her lips to his, and Six feels love flowing through him like cold, refreshing water. Sadly, it doesn’t help the chaos inside his head nor does it wash away the numb pain behind his eyes. Five breaks the kiss, and closes Six’s book.

“You need rest,” she nods to the bed, “Come on, let me dance for you a little. You might want to see how I look under these,” she runs her hoof down her corset, an winks at him.

“I see you every day without clothes. Not that these cover much.”

“Not the point...” Five flicks his face with her tied tail as she walks to the bed, “Forget about everything tonight, and think only of me.”

“Five, I need to plan everything for tomorrow and get some rest before I go digging with the other drones-”

“Why can’t you leave it to them, and focus on being in charge?” Five slumps a little, her vaguely erotic display clearly failing.

“Because boss wouldn’t do that. He leads by example. He wouldn’t just tell others what to do...” Six recalls the stories about boss’ earlier misadventures, “I mean again. And even that was out of necessity. I want him to be proud of us when he comes back.”

At this point, Five has literally no clue what to say, so she opts for a cheesy:

“That sense of duty is making me so hot!”

Six sits down on the bed, which Five uses to resume her plan, and pushes him on his back.

“Now relax,” Five starts swaying around and stretching, giving Six an eyeful of her toned body, “and enjoy.”

She does her best.

For someone who has never done anything like this before, it’s actually pretty passable.

And after some five minutes, she kick off her thong, and with her hind legs spread, she cranes her neck down to look between them at Six on the bed.

He’s snoring, spread-eagle, with a thin string of green drool staining the pillow.

Five ponders punching something within reach, but quickly comes to the conclusion that doing so might wake Six up. In the end, she picks all her clothes up, and with utmost care she leaves. The dwarf guard in the hallway chokes quietly and does his best not to stare at a changeling putting on a set of clothes designed to make any stallion boil. Five doesn’t bother telling him that she can feel his lust, and keeps going with a short show. This way, at least someone will enjoy the damn set she’s wearing.

Short time later, she finds herself in the library again. Seven looks up from a fresh stack of books on his table, sees Five’s frown, and sighs:

“Didn’t go as planned?”

“He fell asleep ten seconds after I started dancing and stripping,” she immediately raises her hoof, “And keep all comments about me being boring to yourself.”

“Well… you did help him relax,” Seven can’t help himself.

“And a prime candidate for today’s braining is…?” Five cracks her hooves.

“Now now, I’ve come up with something that could balance out your un-sexiness,” he taps a book in front of him, “Since I accidentally summoned Comfort to do digging, I think I’ve figured out the principle of the summoning and contract. I can perform a ritual that will summon a succubus who won’t just wildly bang Six, but who will do a show like you tried to… only well, you know. Then she will be bound to give him a massage or something, and apply mental pressure to send him to proper, relaxing sleep.”

“And are you sure that’s what’s going to happen?” Five has her doubts at this point, rightfully so.

“Look,” Seven rubs his temples, “I… there are no actual spells here in this library. I don’t know how to explain it to you… how to tell you in what way I understand things. I don’t know an incantation and a guide to create the proper flow of magic to cause a desired effect hundred percent of the time. The voice that taught me… changed me… I understand magic on such fundamental level that I… I can create almost any effects that I want, but I don’t have the high level guidance others learn by, because dwarves don’t use magic. However, they understand energy manipulation. Not just simple things like electricity or heat, but actual magic flow, ley lines, and even divine power. They researched matter as a function of energy, so the reality we live in and others are just different combinations of energies. I have access to some of that knowledge, and the weird… analysis voice inside my head. I have to figure out what I’m doing on my own, not just repeat a set of steps.”

“So you aren’t sure that succubus thing is going to happen,” is what Five takes from that statement.

Seven narrows his eyes, and slowly breathes out. She can’t understand, and that’s okay. They’re both here to help.

“No, I’m sure I can make it happen, but I’m not sure I can make it happen hundred percent of the time. I can do the summoning right as long as I remain focused, but just in case… go get your shotgun, will you?”

“I really don’t want to wake Six up, even for this.”

“It will be worth it, and I’ll cast a sound dampening spell on him so that in case you need to shoot something he doesn’t wake up. I’ll call a succubus with the right set of skills to do what we can’t. At worst, the summoning will fail because no one like that exists, and we just quietly clear out. How about that?”

“Fine, I’ll hop off to the castle armory. Don’t start the summoning without me,” Five trots away.

When she’s back at Six’s room, the drone is still fast asleep, Seven has drawn a chalk summoning circle on the carpet which someone will have to clean up later, and Five’s shotgun is firmly on a belt around her chest.

“Let’s do it,” she says quietly despite there being no need to due to Seven’s sound dampening spell.

Seven’s horn starts glowing. The ritual drags on as all that seems to be going on is the infiltrator walking back and forth with his eyes closed, and eventually an equine figure appears inside the circle, and looks around.

Thankfully, it’s not Comfort this time. Actually, the succubus is slightly chubby, dark purple with leathery wings, and a long mane glowing green in tune with her eyes. Even to paranoid Five, she looks quiet… cuddly. She could just hug her, let her wings wrap around Five’s head and relax in the comfortable embrace-

Five bites her lip to wake herself from the instant daze.

“What an interesting contract,” the succubus’ deep voice drips like honey, “I must admit I haven’t been called for something like this in my entire existence. For someone else on top of that.”

“Can you do what’s asked of you?” asks Seven formally.

“Oh certainly,” she smiles at him and runs her foreleg on the barrier which sparkles at her touch, “The question is… can you do what you thought you could do?”

Five’s ears immediately perk up.

“What?” Seven tilts his head.

With a push of her hoof, the succubus leaves the summoning circle, much to Seven’s dropped jaw.

“The circle protects you from me, and makes me obey you, but if this is all for someone else,” she chuckles, “Then I serve him, don’t I?” she strokes sleeping Six’s head, “And he isn’t properly protected.”

Five’s buckshot hits the succubus’ wing to no effect.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, you almost hurt the little guy,” the succubus laughs out loud, and Six finally wakes up.

“Whuh?” he blinks and yawns, “Come on, guys. I need to sleep. Do you want to try magma mining for a shift too?”

“Hey, changeling,” the succubus pokes Six’s nose, “You’re mine!”

“Wait, whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-?!” a burning hole opens under Six, the succubus grabs him by his shoulders, and in an eruption of flames, they both disappear.

The room goes silent.

“Put up a sound dampening spell around the whole room,” Five’s voice is made of pure ice.

“Look, if you want to yell at me, that can wait-” Seven’s eyes are darting from Five to the now empty bed.

“Spell. Now.”

Seven’s horn flashes, and Five’s ears pop.

Seven can’t react at all when she shotguns his foreleg off at the shoulder at point blank range.

She grows claws and grabs the separated foreleg.

“Wait-” Seven crashes on the floor as Five hits his head so hard the leg breaks in two. Several more blows with the stump follow, leaving Seven in a quickly expanding pool of his blood.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you before you cause even more damage!” Five screams into his barely conscious face.

“I… maybe I can summon him back… or something...” he croaks.

Five grabs his broken muzzle and pulls him up, shaking but deep down enjoying the crunching of Seven’s twisted chitin and bones.

“No, think about it very carefully so that you don’t fuck up this time, and then send us after him.”

“Us…?” he croaks, the word barely recognizable.

“I think you need a lesson at working in stressful conditions,” Five throws his head back on the floor so hard he bounces and the blood splashes around, “I’ll go grab some more useful gear, and you’d better heal quickly, because I’ll be holding you by the neck all the time to make sure you finally pull your weight. I don’t care if that weight is just a head.”

***

Three is sitting inside his cell with his suppressor on. He can’t sense anyone anymore, but the dungeon is quiet and strangely peaceful. The previously screaming and gurgling guy must be sleeping.

“I am a drone and I’m sitting in jail, dank and chilly jail, dark and chilly jail,” he starts mumbling the tune of the drone song adjusted for the situation, “Kinda like home, actually.”

“Huh…?” he hears the clicking of the cell doors from the left. One by one, opening and closing. Is someone checking the cells? He didn’t hear anyone come in from the direction of the dungeon entrance.

Three shuffles backwards to the corner of his cell, and takes a deep breath. This is exactly why he stayed. The guards will be mad that the others left, but he’s here to explain the situation, and make sure the boss isn’t in trouble. That notion gives him courage, and he conjures up a little nervous but friendly smile.

As expected, his door opens soon. Three nearly swallows his tongue when he sees the unpleasantly familiar gold-rimmed armor of the paladin order. The hoofsteps enter the cell, and stop.

Courage, Three!

“Please, don’t be mad. The others left, because they were worried that we were being framed, so they decided to go figure out who is behind the attack. The boss doesn’t know where they are, and neither do I at this point. When they find out who hurt queen Novo, they’ll bring them back, and we’ll be friends again.”

At this point, Three finally looks up at the pony, and whimpers as his eyes go wide. After all, you can’t forget the last thing you see before you die… no matter if you get better afterwards.

Even someone as optimistic and hopeful as Three realizes they were all wrong. The idea of unlocking the cells wasn’t to let the changelings escape, it was to make the cells accessible from the outside.

“...so you are all still alive...” growls fully armored, armed, and strangely grey Star Trail.

7: A long night

View Online

Star Trail advances on Three. He looks a lot different now. His mane is grey and withered, and his coat, while lighter in color, is grey and dusty as well. However, the fanatical fire of hatred in his eyes hasn’t changed in the slightest over the seven years. That’s all Three can see, because everything else is covered by a well-fitting paladin armor, and because Three’s eyes are fixated mostly on the sword hovering next to the unicorn.

“You will tell me where the others are, eventually. Spare me the effort of persuading you, and I might make your death quick,” he growls.

“I don’t know where they are,” Three inches by the wall away from him, “Boss told us to spread out specifically so that we didn’t know. And boss is on the big meeting with the princesses and everyone important.”

“Boss, boss!” he tries to call out mentally, but there’s no answer. Having the suppressor on without the presence of others is limiting his hive link communication too much.

“Let’s see if you keep spouting that without one or two legs!”

“Yaah!” Three jumps under Star Trail’s slashing sword, and manages to reach the other corner of the cell. Unfortunately, while Star Trail left the door open, he’s still somewhat between Three and freedom, “Why are you doing this?!” he squeaks, “The princesses don’t want us in prison anymore. Well, this was a misunderstanding, but changelings can live in Equestria now. Even bad mom isn’t an enemy anymore.”

“You may have pulled wool over everyone’s eyes, but I know what you parasites are after. You can’t be allowed into real society. If your head bug bitch calls, you will rip the throat of anyone nearby open.”

Three stands up, puffs his chest, glares into Star Trail’s eyes, and forces a wide smile for a moment.

“Most of us can’t even do that, see? Maybe nibble, but not rip anything. We don’t have the teeth for that,” Three frowns, a sight that would instantly obliterate any heart with any capacity for compassion, “And boss isn’t a bitch! Not like you, attacking a defenseless me! You’re not even a real paladin anymore. I’ve met three of those, and they were all nice! Besides, you don’t really want to kill me… again.”

“I do, you and all you insects. Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“Well, I mean, last time when you killed me, I got this sweet glowy body, and you got sent to jail and went all grey. Who knows what might happen the second time-”

Star Trail’s eye twitches, and he roars as his sword lights up with fire. Three’s legs start shaking, but he doesn’t stop staring straight into Star Trail’s eyes. Despite all hope for some final spark of compassion, the ex-paladin swings straight down, releasing a wave of fire that incinerates everything in front of him and scores a black scar into the wall in front of which Three used to be.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” used to be, because as soon as Star Trail’s sword moved, Three darted towards the door, and now disappears into the hall, yelling, “Someone help meeeeeeeeeeee!”

Star Trail grunts when he concludes that the small dusting of ashes isn’t Three, and bolts outside. Unfortunately for Three, the corridor is long and straight, giving Star Trail already gathering energy for a massive ball of fire a clear shot.

The burning projectile is completely unavoidable for the changeling. However, it moves only few pony lengths before exploding into a shower of sparks against a cell door freshly kicked open from the inside.

“What?” Star Trail narrows his eyes. Three, hearing the explosion, quickly looks backwards, and stops when he sees the figure almost tall enough to reach the ceiling, “Mister Astray?” he yelps.

“Get into the cell, Three. The main gate is locked anyway,” Astray quickly points to the cell he came out of. Three looks deeper into the hallway, then at Astray, and in the end opts to obey the order.

“Who and what are you?” hisses Star Trail. He blinks as he realizes the resemblance Astay’s armor bears to his own, “Did my princess initiate something like you to the paladin order?”

Astray looks at his bracer, and wraps his fingers around the unusually longer handle of his short sword.

“Nope, Silver Sun. And you’re under arrest for an attack on a diplomatic envoy. Are you coming quietly, or-”

Sparks fly as Star Trail’s sword with all his telekinetic might behind it clashes with Astray’s held in both hands, the satyr clearly ready for the attack. With a grunt, he directs the blade to the right, and spins around while reaching for a pistol on his belt. Star Trail’s sword hits the floor, and Astray fires three quick shots.

Golden barrier surrounds the ex-paladin’s body, but all three bullets go through, harmlessly bouncing off his chestplate with a clank clank clank. Astray uses the moment of surprise to stomp on the hovering longsword.

Star Trail’s horn glows with gathered magic for another ball of fire, but a quick shot from Astray makes the magic fail even though it only passes by the ex-paladin’s head.

“What is this?” he hisses, “Last warning. Get out of my way, hybrid, or suffer the fate of all changelings and their sympathizers.”

“I don’t know who you’re supposed to be, but you’re not touching Three-” three smaller fireballs materialize in front of Star Trail, hurtling towards Astray who shoots two down, but then his pistol only goes click, “Ah, miscounted.”

Astray blocks the last one with his gauntlet, hisses, and shakes his hand. Seeing his magic fail again, Star Trail charges at the satyr who backs off. That allows the unicorn to levitate his weapon up again, and swing wildly at Astray over and over.

Several successful blocks later, Astray is clear on the fact that Star Trail’s telekinesis is only a little stronger than he is. However, as unharmed as he is, he needs to reload to keep disrupting Star Trail’s magic. Fortunately, Star Trail has used his charge to regain his sword, and the following clash to back off again.

With the distance being in the ex-paladin’s favor, Astray quickly sheathes the sword in order to reload at least one bullet.

Star Trail’s horn lights up again, and the glow gradually envelops his whole body. Astray has no idea what the paladin is trying to do, so he just keeps reloading. Each successful bullet is one chance to deal with magic, so he needs all the options he can get.

The unicorn disappears with a flash. Astray instantly drops his pistol, and slams his back against the wall. A ray of gold light blasts past him, revealing that Star Trail hadn’t teleported, only charged at blinding speed directly at the satyr, horn reinforced with magic aimed straight ahead. The spell clearly allows the user to stop, because the following shockwave makes Astray brace while Star Trail comfortably turns around.

Telekinetic grip twists Astray’s leg backwards, making him drop on one knee and all fours. Not enough to make him panic as he grips his sword again, though.

“You...” growls Star Trail, walking towards Astray, slightly out of breath due to the intensity of the quick duel.

The satyr grins, and blindly slashes upwards. The edge of the sword nicks Star Trail’s horn, shortening it by a third. The unicorn instinctively stops, his eyes following the separated tip of his horn bouncing off of a wall. Astray doesn’t need more than two seconds to grab his sawed-off shotgun from his back.

Star Trail looks down into the barrel.

The echoing blast makes Three whimper inside the cell and crawl under the plank screwed into the wall serving as the bed.

Quicksilver projectiles aren’t the best at causing damage to non-magical targets. Their main advantage and purpose is to dispel magic and harm magical beings. However, at this range, shotgun is a shotgun.

Half of Star Trail’s head is missing, flesh sheared off and skull openly visible. His horn is slashed off at an unnatural angle. And yet, his remaining eye focuses on Astray, and the unicorn hisses:

“I will save my country from all you monsters if it’s the last thing I do.”

Crackling light gathers around his crippled horn, he grunts, and disappears with a bright golden flash, leaving the dungeons silent with the exception of Astray’s heavy breathing.

“Huh, didn’t think he’s be able to do that with half of his horn missing,” Astray croaks, and quickly locates and scoops the tip severed tip of the horn as evidence.

Smacking his forehead, he rushes back into the cell to check up on Three in case whoever the clearly undead unicorn was just teleported to finish the changeling off. He breathes a sigh of relief at Three being alive and shaking under the bed, the purple lights on his legs turning the cell into a disco.

The changeling is clearly beside himself with fear, quietly whimpering and stuck in his little world. Astray takes his gauntlets off so that the first thing Three feels isn’t steel, and reaches under the bed to pat the drone’s head.

Three’s jaws snap at his hand, and bite down.

“Ouch,” Astray pulls his hand back.

That makes Three realize what he did, and he whimpers, eyes wide:

“Sorry, sorry, sorry...”

“Come out,” Astray gives Three a reassuring smile, “The unicorn is gone.”

Three remains down there. Astray sighs, and pulls him out, this time without getting bitten. Three’s legs are shaking so hard he can’t even stand, so Astray just scoops him up into one hand, which Three uses to prop himself on the satyr’s shoulder.

“He almost killed me… again...” Three whimpers, “We did nothing bad. Why can’t we all just be friends…?”

“Again?” Astray raises an eyebrow, carrying Three to the exit from the dungeons. There’s no way he’d leave the drone in his cell again. Whatever is happening needs someone more experienced than he is, “Do you know who that unicorn was?”

Three just mumbles something he can’t make out, so he decides not to push it for now. After quickly explaining the situation to the dungeon guards outside, Astray heads up through the castle with Three pressed against his chest and forelegs wrapped around his neck.

Cromach looks up from a report he’s writing regarding the situation when the door to his office opens, and Astray walks in with that glowing drone quickly glancing his way and immediately trying to hide his muzzle into Astray’s armpit.

“Sir, we’ve got a problem,” Astray salutes with his free hand, “An undead unicorn just tried to kill Three here down in the dungeons.”

Cromach blinks several times, and the corner of his beak curls up.

“Come again?” contrary to the gravity of the statement, Cromach almost seems to be excited to hear that.

“I was hiding in the cell next to his like you told me to after the others escaped, and I heard commotion. It turned out that an undead unicorn in paladin armor was trying to kill him. I stepped in, cut part of the unicorn’s horn during a fight and shot half of his face off with a shotgun. Afterwards, he teleported away,” Astray pulls out the tip of the horn from a pouch, and puts it on Cromach’s desk, “I didn’t dare let Three down there alone anymore.”

“Did the guards let the paladin inside?” asks Cromach.

“No, sir. According to them, no one went in or out.”

“Hmmm… Novo gets attacked, changelings get blamed. Changelings get attacked in pony custody, ponies get blamed. All sides are confused and or angry,” Cromach frames the situation in a little different light, “Third party attempt at making sure the summit fails?”

“Nu uh...” mumbles Three.

“Did your armpit just contradict me?” Cromach smirks.

“What do you mean, Three?” Astray nudges the drone.

“It was the bad guy who killed me and miss Comfort years ago - Star Trail. Miss Gem said he got sent to prison for that.”

“Killed you?” Astray tilts his head.

“Mhm,” Three nods, “But both miss Comfort and I got better,” Three gasps, “We need to tell boss! He might be in danger.”

“If it’s about diplomatic chaos, having Beard dead would be contradictory,” muses Cromach.

“No!” Three shakes his head, “This guy wants us dead, he wants all changelings dead. Trust me, I know! Boss tried to make friends with him before, and I got steel poisoning.”

“Steel poisoning?”

“Knife through my skull,” Three shudders and taps his eye.

“Beard is currently attending the summit,” says Cromach, “He’s about as safe there as anyone can be. However, it can’t hurt to inform him. Astray, will you? He’ll obviously want to see Three, so take him here.”

“Sir, aren’t you bothered by Three here supposedly coming back from the dead?” Astray crosses his hands on his chest, feeling slightly irked at his boss’ approach.

“Only once?” Cromach shrugs, “I’m pretty sure Blaze had a season pass to Tartarus and back. Being dead isn’t as big a deal as most creatures think. Now shoo, you have a ruler to talk to. Leave Three here, I’ve got few things to ask.”

“One last thing, sir,” Astray doesn’t press the issue, “Does this mean king Beard is off the hook for the attack?”

“He never was on the hook in my head, but Celestia couldn’t be sure, and used him to placate the other guests. And no, this doesn’t mean anything for them. If anything happens, it’ll be the old - ‘changeling scheming blah blah blah, all part of their plan’. Plus, this doesn’t do anything against Novo’s testimony,” the griffon rolls his eyes.

“Alright, sir,” with a salute, Astray leaves.

Three, sitting on the carpet, looks up at the big griffon who according to Bubbles is called Cromach and is her boss.

“So, I take it that you know the pony who attacked you.”

“Yeah,” Three nods, “His name is, umm, Star Trail, and he used to be a paladin but went in jail for killing me and miss Comfort, ruining our home in Las Pegasus, and being overall not a nice pony. Princess Luna knows everything. She was in the old castle when it all happened, and helped us get away.”

Cromach pushes a button on his desk. Nothing happens for a while, and then a mare in a maid unicorn peeks inside after a knock.

“You called, sir?”

“Yes,” Cromach nods, “Ask princess Luna to come here, please. Yes, yes, I know she’s sleeping,” he raises a foreleg as the mare opens her mouth to object, “This is important.”

“Yes, sir,” the mare leaves, and Cromach drums his talons on his desk.

“Ummm...” Three raises a foreleg after some thought.

“Yes?”

“Who are you, mister?” he asks.

“My name is Cromach,” answers the griffon.

“I know that, Bubbles told me,” Three shakes his head, “I mean… you know the princesses by name, you know Bubbles, the servants know you, you were invited to the big meeting downstairs, you sent mister Astray to guard me, and you can just call for princess Luna to come. You’re special. I don’t know how, but you’re special.”

Three’s conspiratory tone and accusatory pointing hoof make Cromach snicker.

“Far from that, Three. I’ve just been through a lot in a rather short time.”

“Hmmm...” Three narrows his eyes, and pouts, not believing him in the slightest.

A loud pop interrupts him thinking about a different approach to the questions, and princess Luna appears in all her dark blue, starry glory, her tail completely covering Three.

“Sparkly!” the drone digs himself out of the hairy nebula, and beams at confused Luna staring at him, “Hello, princess.”

He’s not prepared at all for Luna to smile back and scoop him into a hug.

“You must be Three. Gem told me all about you and what happened to you,” Luna nuzzles him, and grabs his hoof, “Huh, and in Scream’s artificial body, just like she said.”

“Ahem, princess?” Cromach clears his throat to interrupt the princess’ poking, “I’ll give you Three to play with later, but you need to know that someone by the name Star Trail just tried to kill Three down in the dungeons.”

“WHAT?!” Luna bares her teeth at Cromach, and the window rattles at her voice, “Come with me!” with a flash of her horn and short falling feeling, their surroundings change to the dungeons. Three shuffles backwards to Cromach, and bumps into his foreleg. The griffon shoves him between his front legs.

The cell door opens at her touch, which makes her scowl.

“Yes, Star Trail is indeed gone,” she sighs, “That doesn’t bode well for… anything really. Alright, let’s head back,” in another flash, they reappear inside Cromach’s office.

“Can someone enlighten me about this?” Cromach sits down back behind his desk, “I’ve tried to gather as much information about Beard and his changelings since I arrived, but I must have missed this.”

“It was like this-” Three speaks up.

“With all due respect, Three, your storytelling is a bit too… chaotic for me. I’d like princess Luna to tell me the overall story, and then you can fill in the important details afterwards, okay?”

“Okay!” Three beams.

Luna takes a long breath, and starts talking:

“Beard’s hive is a group of changelings, some of who survived the invasion of Canterlot, and some who weren’t there in the first place,” Three waves his foreleg as Luna speaks, “They managed to infiltrate Canterlot after the invasion, seeking to figure out what happened to other changelings, and they eventually rescued some of the changelings held captive in the castle dungeons. Their actions didn’t remain unnoticed, and in the wake of the invasion, paladins were sent to deal with them.”

“I doubt that ‘deal’ means ‘to cut a deal’, right?” asks Cromach.

“Exactly. However, the changelings managed to escape Canterlot with the rescued prisoners, and they dropped a part of the mount Canterlot mining complex on the pursuers. From what I know, they escaped to the Castle of Two Sisters in the Everfree Forest, and began operations in Ponyville. After talking to the targets, the feeding operations were benign or in some cases even helpful.”

“Boss always said that if we wanted love, we should make ponies like us, not hate us. Makes sense, really,” adds Three.

“However, these operations were enough for the paladins to find the changeling base, and launch an attack, which ended with several paladins dead, the rest captured, and Star Trail, one of the paladins, killing Three here. On complete accident, Celestia, I, Twilight, Cadance, and Shining Armor visited the old castle on a… stress management exercise, which escalated in a big battle in which I got partially mind-controlled by one of the changelings.”

“Wait, these changelings fought three alicorns, and survived to tell the tale?”

“I didn’t,” Three reminds the griffon who pats his head.

“We had most of our power sealed for the exercise at the start, but we were forced to remove the seals and fight almost seriously, until I got surprised. Anyway, with me captive, the changelings escaped to Ponyville, and during the trip I got a good glimpse of what was really happening. They weren’t some Chrysalis’ operators, but a group caught in the crossfire. They let me go after boarding a train in Ponyville, trying to make me forget what happened, but that’s difficult to do to somepony whose mind is in the dream realm half of the time. Later, the paladins asked me what I remembered from captivity, and I sent them to Manehattan, hoping that they would cool down while I persuade my sister about what happened. Unfortunately, after being ‘taken over’ by changelings, I wasn’t exactly the best witness, and the paladins must have assumed I lied to them.In the meantime, the changelings made quite the spectacle in Las Pegasus, and the paladins found them again. Star Trail got a permission to use the alicorn amulet, citing the deaths of many paladins and my own defeat to persuade my sister. In the end, he, Bright Star, and one more now deceased paladin by the name Resolute attacked the changeling base in Las Pegasus. Bright Star came with the testimony of what really happened, sacrificing his paladin status in the process. Star Trail got jailed for murders and attack against what’s basically different kingdom, details aside, and for five years, all we had was Gem, Ten, and Bright Star here in Canterlot. However, soon after he was put in jail, Star Trail went… insane for some reason. He just kept screaming, locked into reliving a nightmare of his squire getting killed by a guard controlled by changelings. I couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t a spell or an illusion, it was some physical change of his brain.”

“So that was the screaming in the dungeons!” Three’s mouth forms an O of realization, “But it stopped before miss One and others ran away through the drains-” Three clamps his hoof over his mouth, giving Luna a guilty look.

“We know how they escaped,” Cromach rubs Three’s shoulder to calm him down.

“And you’re saying Star Trail got out of his cell, got cured from a condition neither I nor Celestia were able to fix, and attacked you?” Luna tilts her head.

“If by got cured you mean killed and reanimated, then yes,” Cromach narrows his eyes, seemingly deep in thought, “AND he somewhere got hold of full paladin gear AND he teleported out of the dungeons with half of his horn missing.”

“That’s impossible,” Luna shakes her head.

“Yep. Someone else is behind this, because if Star Trail was able to do this on his own, the changelings would be dead already,” says Cromach with absolute certainty.

“But why would somepony do this?”

“No idea. I suspect it’s connected to the attack on Novo, but we simply don’t have enough information at the moment. We’ll know more once Connie and others return with the escaped changelings. Hopefully, they won’t resist much, and arrive back here only slightly smooshed.”

“Hey, miss One is a great fighter!” Three looks up at Cromach’s chin, “Miss Cryo is super big and strong too, Eleven is quick, and Two is hella smart. Your guys should be worried about them, not the other way around, if they even find them.”

Cromach sighs.

“That’s what I’m scared of, Three. If it was only Bubbles and Anvil, it would probably be okay, but if they force Connie to go all out… well, did you see the chunk of Canterlot mountain missing near the top? She did that last year when she still couldn’t control her power.”

“I might be able to help,” Luna taps her hoof against the floor, “If any of the groups go to sleep, I could possibly contact them and tell them what’s going on. Well, probably not the changelings, but your group should be easier despite the magical protection on their equipment.”

“Give it a shot, please,” Cromach nods, “I’ll try to explain this to king Beard without too much yelling. Three’s going to help, right?” he pats Three’s head, who nods.

“Boss is smart. He’ll figure something out, he always does.”

“One can only hope,” smiles Cromach.

***

“Got anything?” asks Contradiction.

Anvil, holding a flashlight, examines her book of maps which now includes the blueprints of upper and lower Canterlot sewer system.

“Bubbles?“ she looks at the demonette with her nose pressed to the floor, and a disgusted expression etched on her face.

“I… think the minty trail I caught under the dungeons and in the mines is still around, but it’s drowned out by the nasty stuff everywhere. I can’t go faster, sorry,” she sounds genuinely remorseful, not sarcastic in the slightest, “I’m having real trouble not throwing up.”

“Take your time,” Anvil nods, “I doubt they’ll run far while their king is still in the castle, and I also doubt they’ll stay in the sewers, because they must know that we know how they escaped. Unless, of course-”

“Unless it’s the old we know that they know that we know that they know situation,” Connie nods, “The most important thing is whether or not we’re really following something related to the changelings or not.”

Bubbles shrugs.

“The huuuge changeling lady smelled super minty for some reason, and I think she doesn’t like sausages.”

Neither Anvil nor Connie have anything to say to that insightful comment, so they only exchange glances, and keep following the smaller equine.

***

Gem is furiously scribbling some notes while prince Rutherford of Yakyakistan is talking about wood shavings and splinters, which are for some reason a relevant export of his country. I guess they like breaking wood rather than building from it.

A rather tall figure which I can identify from Three’s memories as Astray silently approaches… me for some reason.

“Your Majesty,” he leans to my ear and whispers, “May I ask you to accompany me for a while? It’s important.”

“Gem, stay connected.”

“Sure thing, dad.”

“I assume they finally realized our guys escaped, and want to question me about it. This guy is one of the special forces called for this summit.”

“Stay safe. Our experiences with ‘special’ agents were never good.”

I follow Astray out of the ballroom, accompanied by hushed whispers of several delegates noticing that something is going on. He leads me to the third floor, and then to a spacious office with a white griffon sitting in an armchair behind a desk, and a-

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSS!”

-purple-glowing, black cannonball hits me, and clamps his forelegs around my neck.

“Three?” I stand there, stumped as the sobbing little drone is hanging on me, wiping snot on my chest, “Three, what’s wrong?”

“Astray here stopped an assassination attempt on Three,” says the griffon. Cromach, was it?

“WHAT?!” I snarl at him, unable to control myself. First all that nonsense with being accused of an attack myself, and now someone wanted to kill Three of all changelings?

“Someone by the name Star Trail broke into his cell, and tried to kill him. Astray was keeping an eye on the situation after the rest of your guys escaped, and stopped him.”

Aaaand now I see red.

“...what did you just fucking say…?” I hiss, tone suddenly cold as ice. Astray reaches for the sword on his belt, but Cromach just raises his foreleg and almost unnoticeably shakes his head, “A murderous nutjob in your custody got out, my family is on the run from you AND him now, and I’m still the one suspected to have attacked a foreign royal, are you kidding me?!” slowly breathing out, I pry Three off of me, and take his suppressor off. Too much information at once to deal with this nonsense.

Cromach makes a pyramid from his talons atop his desk, and nods.

“Yep, I think that sums it up pretty well.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?” my eye twitches, “This is your fault!”

“One - Star Trail’s escape certainly has nothing to do with me, because few days ago I had no clue who you were, and that there even was a different hive of changelings. Heck, fifteen minutes ago I had no idea who Star Trail was. Two - yes, that’s pretty much all I’m going to say until you calm down,” he raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for my next move.

“Were you born this annoying, or did you study?” I take a deep breath, and start patting Three’s head, mostly to help reassure me that he’s still there and that Star Trail didn’t kill him again, which is the only scenario my freaking out head can process right now.

To my surprise, the question only makes Cromach smirk.

“How diplomatic of you! Now, I wanted to ask you if you could contact the escaped changelings, and tell them to stay out of the castle, but somewhere within reach.”

“I can’t,” I shake my head, “They’re too far, and I specifically instructed them not to tell me where they would meet and what they would do, so that no one could use me to get to them.”

“Noble, but inconvenient to say the least. You see, my agents are currently trying to find them, and by find I mean ‘bring them here and not take no for an answer’.”

“Your agents are in for a surprise then,” I snicker.

“With all due respect, your Majesty-” Astray speaks up, but Cromach clears his throat and interrupts him.

“Is there any chance they will go quietly?” asks the griffon, “Or any way to get to them?”

“I already told you...” I shake my head. I mean, we could probably contact them after scouring Canterlot and possibly sensing a hive link, but I’m not telling that to whoever this guy is. For all I know, this could be just an elaborate trap, although Three isn’t faking or overreacting in the slightest, I know him well enough for that, “And why am I being grilled here? Would you go quietly if you knew that someone framed you, and the other side fell for it hook, line, and sinker? What would you do if you got wrongfully imprisoned, managed to escape, had your leader held hostage by a side that already previously tried to kill you?”

Cromach sighs, and rubs his temples.

“Yeeeeah, that’s what I was afraid of. I would pray that someone only gets beaten up, but I know the gods… and they don’t listen, or when they do, it makes you wish they didn’t.”

“So what now?” I ask, “I’m not letting Three get jailed again, not even to placate whatever diplomat from whatever damn part of the world.”

“Astray will protect him. he’s already dealt with Star Trail once. I’ll tell Celestia what happened. Telling her she screwed everything up is one of the few pleasures I have left,” he brightens up considerably, “Thankfully, it happens often enough to make an occasion out of it.”

“You’re not a fan of royalty, are you?” I tilt my head. The griffon does feel a lot more natural than all the stuffy diplomats and bigwigs.

“Luna’s alright. Twilight...” he shrugs, “she would be okay if she wasn’t such a kiss-ass of Sunbutt, but Celestia...” his expression darkens as he lowers his eyes for a moment, “I’ve been through living nightmares, and lost way too much because of her,” when he looks back at me again, his face looks thirty years older than the rest of him, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, it doesn’t take a genius.”

“Can you blame me?” I give him a flat stare.

“Not really,” he chuckles, “Anyway, the underlying point is that someone attacked and drained a divine being here inside the castle, and if it wasn’t for you scaring them off, things could have been way worse,” he covers his beak when he sees my ‘THAT IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SAY ALL THIS TIME!’ expression, “What’s worse, they also used a large scale suspended animation spell, and got out without triggering any alarm. That shouldn’t be possible.”

“The same thing happened to princess Cadance when we were leaving Crystal Empire,” I pull out my trump card, and grin in victory as I finally manage to see the griffon’s genuinely surprised face. Gotta take pleasure from what you can in a situation like this, “I suggest you ask her about it. We stopped it as well.”

“Someone is targeting bearers of alicorn levels of divine power then. Unusual, but hardly unique,” he taps his talon on his desk, “Anyway, return to the summit. If possible, please tell your guys to come back peacefully. As I said, Astray will protect Three, and we’ll see how things play out. We don’t have enough information to make a move yet.”

“Three, is that Astray guy trustworthy?”

“Oh yeah, he’s really nice. I think even mister Cromach means well.”

To be honest, was I expecting any other answer from Three?

“Okay, stay with him, but contact me if you think anything even remotely weird is going on.”

“Sure thing, boss! What do we do about the others, though? I mean, I saw Eleven play with Bubbles, and I don’t want any of them getting hurt.”

“We can’t do much, really. Let’s hope Cromach won’t be too mad when his agents come back to him a bit… chewed up.”

“Awww… poor Bubbly.”

***

The second day is over, and I’m sitting alone in my room, pondering things. I haven’t received any information regarding my guys being caught, nor did Three report to me anyone informing Astray or Cromach about the fate of his agents, so I’m assuming nothing has happened yet. Gem is gone, off to deal with her own business. I can vaguely sense her presence, so I’m assuming she’s somewhere in upper Canterlot, but I’m not about to intrude on her personal life unless completely necessary.

Thankfully, Star Trail hasn’t tried anything again after disappearing who knows where, but I’m not about to lie to myself that he’s gone for good. The thing is… can he be connected to the attacks on royalty? I doubt that. If there is something I know about him, it’s that he’s fanatically loyal to Equestria and Celestia. Could his involvement in things just be a coincidence?

I walk over to the bed, lie down on my back, and rub my temples.

Yes and no…

Damn, I should have asked when Star Trail escaped, but let’s take it from the top one more time. Royal get attacked, we get blamed and imprisoned. Our cells get mysteriously unlocked, and we escape, although in a different way. Hmmm… did we play right into someone’s hooves anyway? Maybe. So, everyone is busy keeping an eye on changelings, while the real attacker can move around the castle as they please. The thing is… Gem said there were active wards around the castle preventing outsiders from using complex magic or teleporting. Which means that whoever the attacker was, they can either bypass those wards, or…

...or they are from within the castle.

Star Trail would know about all that - sleep magic, wards, but why would he drain queen Novo and, the obvious hole in the theory, princess Cadance in the Crystal Empire?

Aaaaah! I just don’t know enough, and I don’t even know where to start looking for more information.

A resolute knock on the door makes me turn my head. It’s not one of my changelings.

“It’s open!” I call out. In the next moment, I sit up in surprise, “Princess Luna?”

“Good evening, king ‘Beard’,” the blue alicorn chuckles, entering and closing the door behind her, “Gem explained that little naming mishap to me.”

“What brings you here, your Highness?” I ask. While we haven’t really talked yet, everyone who met Luna considers her my ally, so if there’s someone I’m willing to trust right now, it’s her.

“Sadly, not a simple effort to get acquainted,” she frowns, “I have to ask you directly, did you attack queen Novo?”

“Come on, you can’t believe it-” I roll my eyes in frustration. How many times do I have to repeat it. Is Cromach the only creature here who knows this is complete bullshit?

“Answer, please,” she looks directly at me, “There is a reason for me asking like this.”

“No, I didn’t attack queen Novo,” I cross my forelegs on my chest.

“Where did your changelings escape to?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you intend to do now?”

“Either to figure out who framed me, or survive the summit and leave. To be completely honest, this isn’t my fight. Really.”

Luna nods, seemingly pleased with the answers.

“My connection to the dream realm allows me to sense when somepony is lying to me. It’s much less reliable with changelings, but I believe you.”

I see, so that’s why the direct questions.

“Alright, I won’t take it personally then.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she paces back and forth, thinking, “Now, how do we solve this?”

“Uhh, what?”

“You’re wrong about this not being your fight. The attack, or moreso the subsequent blaming of you, is putting pressure on the already fragile relationship between changelings and everyone else.”

“Look, I don’t know if you heard about it, but Star Trail is back and tried to kill Three again. My guys are being hunted by Cromach’s agents, whoever they are, and the only thing I really want right now is to be back at home, as far away from this damn place as possible. Seriously, I’m starting to think Canterlot is cursed.”

“Being the seat of alicorns and rulers of Equestria, it is like having a huge bullseye on our backs, yes,” she nods, “Heh, to be honest, I was hoping you all were lying to Cromach when you said you had no connection to the others.”

“You know about that?”

“Yes, he consulted me before Astray informed you. It seems that Star Trail escaped very recently, we checked his cell. He also asked me to contact his agents at night, if possible, and tell them to try and persuade your changelings to come quietly and cooperate. Unfortunately, dreamwalking doesn’t work well with everyone fully awake.”

“Huh, so he’s really on my side?” I tilt my head.

“He’s… difficult to assess right now, even for me. He’s been hurt so much that he cares about very little at this point, but I believe he’s still a force for good. To be completely accurate, he has zero reason or desire to harm you or your changelings if you really are innocent. Is that enough?”

“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for,” I sigh, “Oh, one last thing I don’t know if you know - princess Cadance was attacked before queen Novo in the same way, sleeping spell and everything. Watch your back, I’d hate to see you get hurt. Friends aren’t easy to come by, it seems.”

Luna furrows her brows.

“Hmmm… good to know. Thank you for that, although I must say that this means I have to cut our conversation short. I have ponies to talk to.”

“Good night, princess.”

“Stars protect you, king ‘Beard’.”

As she leaves, I lie back down.

“Boss, boss, boss, boss, boss!” I hear inside my head after few minutes. To my absolute shock, it’s not Three, but Eleven.

Please don’t tell me everything went wrong already.

“Eleven, where are you? What’s going on?”

“I’m in an alley, and there are ponies everywhere.”

Kill me now…

“I’m gonna need more info than that.”

“You said not to tell you any details.”

“You can tell me now. Things have changed a bit. Where are the others?”

“I dunno, boss. We split inside the big mountain,” he shows me the mental map of the mines with several spots marked, “That’s where miss One, Cryo, and Two planned to get out of Canterlot for a while. They’ll be back once they’re sure they aren’t being followed.”

Ah damn it!

“They ARE being followed, and I need them to come back without killing whoever is after them. Are you in range to contact them?”

“No, I’m not, boss.”

“Damn it, why are you in range of me then?”

“I figured out that I can’t keep up with them, so I decided to stay in the city in case you needed me. Don’t worry, I’m invisible. Oh, and the alley I’m in is near the castle quarter,” he shows his location on the Canterlot map, “ Well, do you need anything, boss?”

“Stay safe, and stay in touch. I’ll try to think of something.”

“IHATETHISSSSSS!” a different voice arrives inside my head, “Brakes! BRAAAAKEEESS!”

“Comfort?!”

“In the flesh-URK!”

I can feel an impact through the hive mind, and a quick look from her eyes shows her currently bouncing off of a white wall. The following dazed drop reveals that she hit the outer wall of upper Canterlot and is now hurtling towards the ground.

Flapping her wings, she eventually stabilizes herself.

“Okay, I really need to find someone who knows how to get out of Tartarus without summoning circles. Where is Scream when you need her…?”

“Comfort, I need help.”

“The best infiltrator in history, at your service, boss bug!” she salutes while flying back up towards upper Canterlot, “Unless I get called again, but I think I usually get at least few minutes between summonings. Seriously, it wasn’t this bad before Scream disappeared.”

I explain what happened.

For about five minutes, there’s a succubus hanging in the air at upper Canterlot wall height, gradually scowling more and more at nothing while at first her eye starts twitching, then she begins punching the air, tail whipping follows, and it all ends in grinding of teeth possibly audible all the way to Manehattan.

“You know… I’m starting to think that Chrysalis should have succeeded in the old invasion, BECAUSE THESE PONIES ARE TERMINALLY STUPID!”

“I tend to agree at this point, but right now I need you to find One, Cryo, and Two. If there’s someone who can do it then it’s you. Grab Eleven too. He’ll keep going if you get summoned. Three and I can’t leave the castle, but no one knows about Eleven.”

“Any idea where I should start?”

I share with her the marked sewer exits.

“They’ll either be in Canterlot or around. Tell them to get back immediately, and don’t kill anyone.”

“Hey, pile of hugs and bugs,” she mentally pokes Eleven, and marks an alley a short way away from the castle quarter, “Meet me there. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, miss One!” he answers, and before his link weakens, I hear a quiet, “Yay, my own mission!”

Heh, almost.

***

It indeed doesn’t take long, and Comfort, disguised as a changeling, lands in the target alley. In the gloom of the late, summer evening, she looks around as she hears hoofsteps.

A figure is slowly approaching her, wearing a trench coat, a fedora, and a pair of sunglasses. It’s gliding forward like a ghost, without actually moving its legs. Comfort facehoofs when it stops its eerie progress in front of her, and then smacks the side of its head.

The fedora, the sunglasses, and the hat drop on the ground, followed by top Eleven losing its balance and dragging the trench coat with him. The now uncovered remaining ten look up at Comfort. One of the ‘legs’ waves at her.

The head Eleven untangles himself from the coat, pouting at unimpressed Comfort.

“Trench coat and sunglasses in the middle of summer at night,” she shakes her head, “Where did you even get that?”

“I-”

“You know what? Ignorance is bliss,” she returns to her succubus form for broader back and bigger wings, “Hop on, all of you. Leave the clothes here for some lucky hobo.”

“They had a swimsuit too...” mumbles Eleven.

“Did whoever ‘they’ are have a burlap sack? Because if you don’t start getting on, I’m getting one and stuffing you all in it.”

“They did, actually,” head Eleven sticks his tongue out at Comfort. One Eleven grabs onto each Comfort’s leg, six manage to stuff themselves on her back, and the head one hops on her, well, head.

“Succubus airlines taking off,” with utmost care to get used to the new weight, Comfort flies into the air, lazily flapping her wings, “Now, where do we start? One of the guys should still be around upper Canterlot, so keep your link open.”

Over the next hour and a half, they circle around upper and lower Canterlot, finding nothing at first, but eventually catching a faint trace of Cryo’s link.

“It seems that they decided to meet somewhere in the forest instead of the city. I’d assume they know they’re being followed,” muses Comfort, “I think that if we circle around the base of the mountain, we’ll find them. Hold on, I’ll show you how non-changelings really fly.”

“Okay!” head Eleven grabs her horn tighter, “But can we at least go lower? I don’t think I like this...”

Comfort realizes that all the little legs are tightly clamped onto her, and sighs.

“Alright, we’ll hurry up... but slowly. And when I have time, we’ll work on your shapeshifting. Can’t have a non-flying changeling who dresses like a filly molester around.”

Suddenly, she feels a familiar pull grasping her whole being, and freezes for a second, which isn’t lost on Eleven.

“Aaaaaah!” his synchronized scream of all mouths cuts the night air.

“Crap crap crap crap, not now!” with a growl, Comfort heads straight down while she can still control herself, “I really need to find someone, anyone who knows how to resist these!”

Fire envelops her whole body, lighting up the darkness of the night and the trees around as she finally reaches near ground level.

“JUUUMP!” she yells at Eleven.

The short rain of changelings is cut short by fire finally devouring Comfort, leaving only dazed black buggy balls rolling on the ground and hitting trees in several unlucky cases.

Few minutes of uncoordinated walking around and few loud calls of ‘here!’, Elevens find each other despite the darkness and knowing nothing about the area. Eventually, the gathered herd of changelings scratch their heads as one, pondering their next move.

Based on the escape routes, One, Cryo, and Two could be anywhere around the base of the mountain at this point, but their eventual goal will be lower Canterlot no matter what. With that in mind, Eleven chooses not to go around the mountain the way Comfort already carried him partway, and instead he opts to go counter-clockwise to cover the rest.

An hour later, he hasn’t caught the faintest notion of any hive link, and he still hasn’t left the forest, making him finally realize the real sheer size of the area he needs to scout out.

This is going to take a while.

***

While Eleven’s run through the wood is quite the ordeal, it’s mini-Cryo who is having real trouble finding her way to the designated meeting spot. It’s not that she’s tired or threatened, having already beaten two very optimistic badgers and one boar unconscious. The problem is that everything is taking so needlessly long with her new size.

On the other hole, as she’s skittering along, she has enough time to think, completely unaware of the silent, rusty menace with huge teeth following her.

The beard, the beard was the key.

He researched black rocks in order to make a weapon of sorts, rocks that didn’t originate in this world, but appeared along with shadows eating everything - love, heat, light. Shadows easy to crush underhoof, and yet… scary even to her.

More rocks, more shadows to destroy in the north. Too many for changelings, too many for the tinies rebuilding after the war with the cursed… no, bad Cryo. Little beard is trying to make your thinking box work properly again. War with the… Twisted.

Big ones had to help, fearless even when faced with the swarms of shadows. Eventually, the shadows disappeared. Why? There were some weird ponies around. One had a big shovel, strong pony like Cryo.

And then… then…

The big shadow appeared, and no one knew what to do with it. They couldn’t destroy it, because it wasn’t of this world, and didn’t obey its rules. Not even the shovel worked. They could only lock it away.

In the end, beard disappeared without a trace along with the others.

Not much later, her hive found the machines, and with them their doom. Or was it…? The order of events from so long ago is too hard to remember at this point.

“Huh?” Cryo’s fragmented glimpses of memories scatter into the void when she bumps into a tree, and scrunches her muzzle, “What was I thinking about? Oh right, turning back into proper size!”

Awash with green fire, Cryo finds herself finally looking at the grass from her usual point of view high up, and casually kicks the tree which so rudely impeded her progress. It breaks and falls on her head, splintering one more time over it.

“Heh, boop this,” with a victorious smile, the unharmed queen resumes trotting towards the meeting spot at manyfold faster pace.

In a bush behind her, Bubbles stunned by the impact of the falling tree canopy tries to untangle herself from the twisted branches, and only watches with sadness as Cryo stomps away into the distance, leaving behind a corridor of crushed foliage.

“Hnnngh!” Bubbles manages to squeeze between two branches of her prison, sighs, and starts biting branch after branch while spitting out pieces of wood. When she’s done, Cryo is way gone. She sticks her tongue out in disgust, “Bleh,” looking at the devastated nature, she scratches her head, and starts quickly trotting along, “Well, at least she’s easier to track now.”

***

North, far far north, inside a tunnel of the temporarily not growing changeling hive glows a makeshift reverse summoning circle with a group of equine figures around, and a huge one barely fitting into the tunnel in the back. Five is wearing a fake beard for some reason. Why is the Silversmith war mech Stompy there is anyone’s guess. Anyone but Five’s.

“Drones, you know your shift schedule Six drafted, keep working to pay off the digger,” orders Five, standing in front of heavily chewed up Seven, “Infiltrators, you’re attending the council meetings as a group,” she says, looking at the skinny and tall duo among the gathered lings, “Warriors, one of you patrols the hive, the other hunts for love at all times.”

“Ahem,” Seven cautiously raises his foreleg and winces when putting the weight on his reattached one, “Five, the project?”

“Right!” rather energized Five taps her hoof against the floor, “One infiltrator on the meeting, one working on my plan then. When it’s ready, find a dwarf to give it a test ride. Granite might help you with that. Anything else?”

“No, Five,” a warrior in front shakes its head.

“Then leave before Seven screws this up too, and blows us all to pieces on accident.”

Everyone scampers away, leaving only Five, Seven, and Stompy around the summoning, resummoning, unsummoning or whateversummoning circle.

“It is going to work,” Seven sighs, “By the way, why did you want to make the circle right by the bedrock wall we failed to dig through?”

“Because judging by your track record, this can literally explode in our faces, and if it does, it might break the wall, and the drones will have easier time digging later. See? I intend to use all possible outcomes.”

“It won’t blow up, Five.”

“Let me remind you that last time you did something like this, it was to summon a helpful demon into this reality, and one of us ended in theirs. Now that we want to end in theirs, I’m still working with a fifty percent possibility of us ending in some happy realm filled with fairies and Threes, and fifty percent of kaboom.”

“And the result where we do end in Tartarus?”

“I suppose that can happen too,” Five shrugs, “And that’s why I have this,” she taps her long and full beard previously owned by Three, “Also to remind you that you need to learn how to enchant a bag instead of a beard of holding!”

“I didn’t exactly have much time to work with, and Three’s beard was highly magically malleable for some reason.”

“Well, as long as it doesn’t stop working halfway during the trip...” from her fake beard, Five pulls out a shotgun, One’s unbreakable sword, her own gatling laser turret, and in the end the Big Friendship Gun one by one.

Thankfully, with the help of Stompy, the dwarves managed to unbind the weapon from Three since its last use, and now it is her trump card.

Five shoves her foreleg deeper into the beard, and pulls out a rocket launcher.

“Huh, was wondering if that one got lost...”

Seven rolls his eyes.

“We don’t know if any of those will work on demons anyway. Divine or demonic beings are naturally heavily resistant to mundane attacks.”

“Then you’d better figure out an enchantment for bullets, rockets, flamethrower fuel, and a BFG plasma cell fast, or I’m throwing you at whatever tries to disembowel us.”

“If something eats me, no one else can get you, Stompy, and Six back home,” Seven backs away.

“I’m taking my chances of shooting my way out.”

“Look, I can see you’re still mad-”

“No, I’m still furious!” Five cuts him off, “Now start the ritual before… before...” she looks at the floor, and goes quiet for a heavy, desperate moment, “...before it’s too late, you idiot...” she breathes out.

“Alright, alright,” Seven closes his eyes, and his horn starts glowing, “Any last ideas, something we may have forgotten to take with us?”

“Not as far as I know,” Five pats her beard.

“All weapon systems fully operational,” Stompy agrees.

“Okay then, let’s go!” raising his voice, Seven sends a bolt of energy to the circle which lights up, and in a flash all three of them are gone.

Darkness lit only by the still smoldering and sputtering summoning circle burned into the stones goes quiet.

It doesn’t last long, however, as a strange, metallic, dragging noise disrupts the silence, getting closer and closer to the circle. Something big and heavy is approaching, one step, drag, or shove at a time. Only the faintest glow of a dying flashlight dims the darkness enough to reveal a figure larger than any of the changelings slowly making its way to the circle.

It stops when it gets to the center, and waits. Contrary to all logical thought, when nothing happens, it begins punching the ground with a metallic noise that makes sparks fly into the air.

After three sledgehammer-like hits, the circle lights up again, revealing a strange mesh of metal and charred feathers for only a fraction of a second before flames swallow it just like they did to the trio before.

***

Luna finds herself alone, surrounded by blackness of space lit only by the distant twinkling of bright stars. She’s standing on a plane made of concentric blue circles spreading into infinity. This place, no matter how wrong the term is for her current state of mind, is her personal hub of the dream realm, her meditative spot from where she can reach into the minds of the asleep.

Unfortunately, she hasn’t been able to reach any of the escaped changelings nor the Hoof of Fate members, which has to mean either that the chase is still on, or the mental protections of each of the targets are way too powerful to break through without possibly causing more harm than good.

Well, there is always the rest of the night. She just has to keep her mind open for any sign of them.

That kind of full awareness is what saves her.

The alicorn amulet around Star Trail’s neck glows blood red as he materializes behind the princess, and his flying sword leaving behind a red trail slashes straight at her neck. What the weapon hits, though, is an ornate, silver-decorated halberd appearing out of nowhere and expertly blocking the blow. He suddenly finds himself staring into the burning white eyes of the alicorn of the Night clad in full plate armor on which all the Nightguard armors are based.

When did she-?

Star Trail jumps backwards, but misjudges Luna’s speed and the reach of her extended weapon as the blade of her halberd slashes at his own neck. He has to block, and groans once again at Luna’s unexpected strength when the strike makes his sword fly away.

The princess advances at him, drawing magic all around into herself.

“An undead paladin who has stolen the alicorn amulet,” she growls, “Again. I know who you are, Star Trail.”

“Your deceit ends here, usurper!” Star Trail hisses back, his sword materializing again by his side, “Equestria is the land of the sun and ponies. You, Nightmare Moon, conspiring with bugs and griffons, will finally pay for your sins.”

“You are clearly insane,” Luna gives him a flat stare punctuated with a wide swing of her halberd which Star Trail blocks successfully this time, the crimson glow of the alicorn amulet enveloping him explaining why, “My sister has forgiven me my transgression, and we are working to bring the world together. Besides, if you think only I am a traitor and a murderer, you clearly don’t know my sister’s less recent history,” she taunts him. Granted, while Luna’s big sin stemmed from her own hurt ego and Nightmare’s possession, the pain Celestia caused over eons was more from her overprotectiveness and impulsiveness, but there was no way Star Trail would know that. To him and to most ponies, really, Celestia was this perfect motherly figure always keeping them safe.

“Shut your filthy mouth!” Star Trail lunges at her, his sword covering his movement with a barrage of blows. It’s only a distraction, though, as magic gathers in his horn, and lightning surges from it towards Luna. It hits her chestplate, and harmlessly arcs into the mostly invisible ground.

“I can’t blame your ignorance, fanatic,” she spins her halberd in the air, the butt hitting Star Trail’s chin so hard it makes him fly off backwards with a spin. Any normal pony’s spine would have snapped at the crushing hit, and so does Star Trail’s, but it doesn’t seem to bother him too much, as he jumps back on all fours, ready to defend himself again, “I, however, can’t tolerate my own lack of knowledge. How did you get into my dream realm?”

“As if I would tell you!” Star Trail’s sword flashes, and releases a crescent wave of red energy at Luna. She teleports- no, he has to correct himself as he reflexively turns around with his sword raised. She simply dashed behind him much faster than he could see, and only his battle-honed instincts save him from her brutal downwards hack which would have split him in half, paladin armor or not. His sword strengthened by the magic of the alicorn amulet cracks.

Star Trail might have been through dozens of combat missions, survived hundreds of ambushes, but there’s something ponies always forget about alicorns - no, not that they are stronger, faster, and unbelievably tougher, but that most of the living ones survived tens of thousands of pony lifetimes from way less civilized ages.

When Star Trail’s sword shatters with Luna’s next strike, and the feedback of released magic sends rending lightning through his horn and skull, he realizes he might have bitten off more than he can chew.

A beam of dark energy barely visible in the inky realm of the night sky hits Luna from behind. However, the expectation clearly was to strike her unaware, not to hit her raised wing shielding her completely from the blast.

“There you are!” a bloodthirsty grin grows on Luna’s face, “Cromach was right. There was someone else behind this rambling weakling.”

She turns around to face the newcomer, and casually kicks back with her hind leg at Star Trail, her hoof piercing his chest and leaving a burning gash nearly decapitating him behind. The ex-paladin collapses, forelegs clutched against the wound as the dark magic of the alicorn amulet weakens with each passing second.

The new equine figure is wearing a black robe with hood covering its head, only a long horn protruding from it. It’s about as tall as Luna, but skinny beyond belief, and with no obvious weapons, not that it means anything. Come to think about it, he is about the size of a certain someone as well.

“I don’t suppose your name is ‘Beard’, is it?” she flourishes her halberd in the air.

The figure remains silent.

Rolling her eyes, Luna jabs her halberd behind her, this time stabbing a hole through risen Star Trail’s skull. He falls over again, hooves held over his fresh extra-large third nostril.

Oh well, time to end this.

Luna charges at the new figure, not repeating her attack from behind, but simply slashing at it while passing by to avoid any area of effect spells at close range. The enemy clearly is a necromancer with knowledge of advanced mental magic, and likely the ability to drain divinity, so wasting time would be unwise.

A glowing purple barrier stops Luna’s strike for a fraction of a second before shattering and letting the blade through. The figure gets hacked in half as well, revealing only bleached bones under the robe. A moment later, both Star Trail and the other one disappear.

Two undead.

Luna knows that this is her chance. Death within the dream realm would likely have severe consequences on the living, and even though the two attackers were both undead, they should be hampered in some way. On top of that, they can’t be far away from her. That means she has the chance to end this immediately.

She simply closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, she finds herself on the balcony of the tallest Canterlot castle tower, standing next to a golden telescope aimed at the night sky. While she can still feel that isn’t the real world, it’s a step closer. She extends her consciousness through the unknown pocket dimension, and senses the intruders immediately. Looking down from the balcony, she gets a clear look on the intruders, and dives to the ground.

I’m not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with ME!

Her impact makes a crater on the castle grounds, and the vengeful demigoddess rises from the wreckage accompanied by thunder and lighting tearing the night sky apart. Her armor and the halberd reappear just as Star Trail attacks her. Of course, all wounds he sustained in the dream realm are gone, but he is slower. He can’t feel physical pain from wounds as an undead, but there must be some temporary damage to his nerves still in play, and the same should be true for the robed skeletal unicorn in the back on some level, although obviously not the physical one since, you know, all bones.

She goes straight for the offense, knocking Star Trail’s sword away with the butt of her spinning halberd, and charging at him. He jumps to the side to avoid Luna’s magically reinforced horn, the vastly advanced version of the spell he tried to stab Astray with before. That, however, doesn’t allow him to keep track of her halberd which bites directly into his chest through his armor, knocking him on the ground.

A jet of flames bursts from the skeleton’s horn, and is once again deflected by Luna’s wing. There is a serious amount of power behind the spell, but nothing that could even remotely scratch an alicorn archmage like her. Flying up into the air, she spreads her wing and freezes. In the next instant, the white moonlight from the sky above crystallizes into a beam that hits the skeletal mage head on, disintegrating it completely.

Earth shakes as Luna lands again, hair cracks spread through the night sky, and with the effect of a shattering snow globe, the pocket dimension crumbles, finally revealing the real Canterlot castle, Star Trail on the lawn struggling to get up, and the reappeared skeleton stumbling from the feedback of the broken spell.

So it’s not just a reanimated skeleton, but a real lich. I can’t destroy it completely unless I get rid of its phylactery. It can’t be far, though, and it can get the idea that attacking me is fruitless.

“NIGHTGUARDS!” Luna calls out in the royal Canterlot voice, “YOUR PRINCESS IS UNDER ATTACK! COME TO ME!”

The lich turns its hooded head around as the night sky fill with batpony blurs converging towards them. However, Luna can’t keep an eye on him, because contrary to all expectations, Star Trail attacks her again.

“Give it a rest!” she slashes his real sword in half this time, and the glow of the alicorn amulet fades completely. Star Trail collapses on his knees, and can only look at Luna with pure hatred in his eyes, “You will not haunt anypony anymore, revenant! May the peace of real death cure your insanity.”

Her halberd now enchanted with holy magic goes down like a guillotine…

...and buries itself into the ground as feeling of freezing claws ripping her from the inside makes her drop it and scream. All strength leaves her as she keels over in front of Star Trail, only able to turn her head enough to see the red glow of the lich’s spell sapping her divine power away.

The lich was trying to have her underestimate him all the time, and succeeded.

However, the first Nightguards finally arrive, swooping down like hunting hawks and interrupting the mage’s draining magic. A shockwave knocks the first few away, but as the lich looks upwards to see more and more coming, it flicks its horn, and with a flash of light both he and Star Trail disappear.

Luna, feeling colder with each passing second, whispers-

“...Magnus...”

-and passes out.

***

Celestia lands by Luna’s side just as two batponies arrive with a stretcher and load her on.

“What happened?”

The nearest Nightguard salutes.

“Princess Luna was attacked, your Highness. There were two of them, a unicorn stallion wearing a paladin armor, and one taller and skinny creature wearing a long robe. Judging by the size, we assume it was a unicorn stallion as well. It was his spell which hit princess Luna.”

“How is she?” Celestia gives a worried look to the duo carrying Luna now entering the castle.

“We didn’t find any physical wounds on her, your Highness. My best guess is that whoever attacked queen Novo did the same to her. The spell looked like a red and black beam, which is what queen Novo reported as well. I apologize that I can’t tell you more, but I’m not a unicorn,” he shakes his head.

“Hmmm...” Celestia frowns, “Two attackers, you said?”

“Yes, your Highness. They both teleported away at once,” he taps his helmet, “Oh, and one final thing - we can’t be one hundred percent sure, but before she passed out, princess Luna said ‘Magnus’.”

Celestia freezes.

“I don’t suppose… there are any clues that might mean that changelings are involved in any capacity?” she asks slowly, her mind somewhere completely else.

The batpony shrugs.

“Not as far as we can tell. I mean, anything is possible with changelings, but we won’t find anything. Send us an experienced unicorn to examine the combat scene, and we might come up with something, but right now changelings are a big no.”

Nodding, Celestia flaps her wings, and takes off straight towards the second floor of the castle, teleporting inside as soon as she’s near the wall. She finds a particular guest room, and enters without bothering to knock.

The white griffon inside is already sitting on the bed, and giving her an annoyed glare.

“Can’t a griffon get a good night’s sleep around here?!” groans Cromach, “Seriously, even the darkest threats to ponykind and the world at large have the decency to be evil during business hours...”

“This isn’t a joking matter, Cromach,” Celestia heads straight towards the bed, “Luna has just been attacked.”

“Aaaand how did king Beard do it this time?” he snickers with a raised eyebrow.

Celestia ignores the verbal jab, and explains:

“Two attackers, one tall and robed and one wearing a paladin armor, managed to drain my sister. Once again, they were interrupted before they could finish the job, this time by Nightguards. They supposedly teleported away when faced with the guards.”

“Star Trail and the guy who killed him, reanimated him, and then pulled him out of the dungeons before Astray could finish him off,” Cromach’s smug grin makes Celestia’s eye twitch.

“What?!” she hisses at him, “How have I not heard about any of this?”

“Considering your track record with decisions when you are informed, you can’t blame me for trying to avoid you fucking everything up again, can you?”

Celestia takes a long and slow breath.

“You should realize where you are, Cromach,” she says in a low voice.

“And you should realize that I really don’t give a shit about anything coming from you after your blatant idiocy killed my lover. Now, I don’t think we need to go through this every time we’re forced to be in the same room, so what was that about Luna getting attacked by king Beard and possibly the tooth fairy?”

“First, you’re going to tell me about Star Trail so that I can make a clear judgement about this.”

Cromach repeats everything he knows about Star Trail, his chat with king Beard and Three, Astray’s testimony of the attack, and Luna telling him the known history of Beard’s hive.

“Alright,” Celestia paces back and forth, thinking, ”I’m not saying Beard is off the hook, because it could still be some elaborate scheme combined with using Star Trail for revenge against me-”

Cromach facetalons.

“-Look, I have to keep my mind open. I’ve lived for way longer than you can even imagine, Cromach, and compared to some coup attempts I’ve gone through, this would still be foal’s play. I’m not saying it’s likely, I’m saying it’s possible.”

“It’s your kingdom pissing the changelings off, not me,” he just shrugs, “Now can we finally get to why you woke me up after Luna got attacked?”

“Before Luna passed out, she said ‘Magnus’.”

“Like the primal alicorn of Magic?”

“You know about him?”

“I saw him at Zeph’s years ago,” explains Cromach, “White, no wings, scared of mares. Do you really think he can be behind this? I mean, isn’t he supposed to be some sort of crazy magic researcher recluse?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t, but Luna named him. He’s also the only alicorn without any divine power, since Twilight is the inheritor of his divinity, and he’s still immortal. No one knows how he does it without necromancy or blood sacrifices.”

“Am I right in assuming that you think he’s trying to regain divinity for some reason?” Cromach tilts his head.

“No, I’m not, but it’s the only explanation I can think of at the moment. I can’t leave the summit, so I need you to go find the location of Magnus’ research tower, and talk to him.”

Cromach snorts in suppressed laughter.

“Wait, you want me to go punch the snot out of a primal alicorn, literally the most dangerous being alive other than the three gods?”

“Look, there is no one else with your kind of experience around, and it’s only a matter of time before somepony else is attacked.”

“Oh I’m not refusing,” Cromach waves his forelegs defensively, “I’m just trying to summarize it for myself. I saw Blaze punch Void once and he walked away alive. I mean, worst case scenario, I get turned into a frog and squashed. Big boo hoo,” he shrugs.

“I could give you a lecture about having a death wish, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t listen,” Celestia’s tone softens a little.

“Not listening to reason, eh? We’d finally have something in common,” he raises both his forelegs as Celestia opens her mouth to scold him again, “Alright, I got it out of my system for a while. Now, your Highness, hiring me will cost you. We’re not on terms where you can just ask me to do this anymore.”

Celestia sighs.

“What do you want?”

“Forgive the rest of the Silver Sun debt to the crown. We’ve paid most of it already, so this wouldn’t be a blow to you anyway.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll think about going.”

They glare at each other.

“Fine, deal,” Celestia gives in first. It’s difficult negotiating with someone who holds all the cards.

“Good. Any idea where I should start?”

“I can teleport you to Zeph’s, that’s pretty much it. I don’t know where Magnus’ tower is, but Zephyr or someone there might.”

“Do I have to go alone?”

“I can provide few guards if you need, but-”

“No, no… I think I have an idea,” he grins, “Can you prepare me a scroll that can take me and my company there? I don’t know when my guys might be back, but if they don’t come soon, I’ll have to take Astray or someone, and I don’t want to bother you in the middle of the summit meeting or whenever I decide to go.”

“I can make you a one-use scroll, yes. I’ll have it delivered to you within an hour.”

“Alright,” he stretches, “I guess I’ll go have a cup of coffee or something.”

When Celestia leaves, Cromach chuckles to himself.

“Too bad I won’t be here to see her face when she figures it out. Gotta tell Astray to snap me a photo.”

***

Shortly after one of the servants arrives in Cromach’s guest room with the requested scroll, the griffons has already procured two backpacks out of somewhere, and harrassed some castle staff to fill them with a bottle of water and some lasting food each just in case. Now, accompanied by Astray, he knocks on king Beard’s guest room.

“Why are we waking up the king of the changelings this later at night?” asks the satyr, still dizzy from having been roused from sleep only few minutes before.

“You didn’t think I needed you to come with me, did you?” Cromach smirks, “There’s someone else who wants to figure this case out more than all of us put together, and- ah, good morning, your Majesty!” he bows before me, the smug ass that he is.

“Don’t tell me there was another attack...” I ask in joke, but Astray’s serious expression makes me breathe out, “Who?”

“Luna,” the griffon puts one of the two large backpacks on his back on the floor.

“Look, I was asleep until you knocked-” I immediately wave my forelegs in front of my chest.

“You wanna go figure out who is behind this?” the griffon interrupts me, and nods to the bag, “Luna named a name, and Celestia scribed me a teleport scroll to where I should start looking.”

“Wait, Celestia wants us to go sort this out?” I still have trouble grasping the situation. Thankfully, two more brains join me as Three and Gem walk up to my side.

“Not exactly us, per se,” Cromach can’t hide his grin, “I asked her to have the scroll work on me and my company. I didn’t exactly tell her who I intend to take with me. I assume she expected Astray or one of my guys when they come back. Let’s not go and correct her, shall we?”

I, well, I mean…

It’s not a terrible idea. I’m pretty sure that I will get blamed for this on some level anyway, and this way I might be able to help clear our name.

“Gem?”

“Not a fan, boss. How much do you trust that guy?”

“There are two things that could happen. One, he genuinely wants to help and we’ll do what we can to find the real attacker. Or two, he’s somehow evil and I will be in danger instead of you.”

“I really don’t want you to go alone. No, I really don’t want to be the one to explain to mom where you went in case this goes south.”

“Eleven is looking for One and the others, and hopefully he can find them in time. I would take you with us, but I need you here. You are good with all this diplomatic stuff, and certainly better than me at haggling. You or Two would be the best lings for this job, and with how things are, guess who this falls to.”

“You DON’T have to go.”

“I want to. Since the first night, I’ve had this irresistible itch to punch someone, and I might finally get a chance.”

“Hey, you two,” I nod to Cromach and Astray, “What exactly is the mission?”

“Right now, simply find the location of a certain stallion, and then ask him several questions regarding this situation. It might turn out he’s not involved at all, in which case we just come back here and start from square one. If he is involved, then we ask why, and maybe get a little shouty.”

“Aaaand that’s what the axe on your back is for?” Gem tilts her head.

“Exactly,” Cromach nods.

“If boss is going, I’m going,” says Three firmly, “I don’t care if I’m food or a pillow, but I’m not leaving boss alone in this! We started this together, and we won’t have ponies be unfriendly with us.”

“Umm, Three,” I look down at the drone, “Astray here can protect you in case Star Trail comes back.”

“Nope!” he crosses his forelegs on his chest, “I’m coming and that’s final. Boss, I’m not scared for myself- well, no… I’m really scared, but I’m more scared of you being in danger and without any of us around. Even if you tell me no, I’ll just follow you.”

Be a good king and order him to stay safe, or take him with me not to hurt his feelings? I mean, he’s right in a way. If I need energy and a second set of eyes, he’ll be invaluable. But then, can I keep him out of harm’s way?

No, wrong question.

What I’ve wanted for a long time was to give my changelings a choice about what they want to do with their lives. There is no arguing with my main principle.

“Alright, Three. You’re coming with us.”

“Yesssss...” he punches the air.

“Gem, deal with the summit business, and inform the others if they either come back or are brought back.”

“I’ll tell Connie and others about the plan if needed,” Astray speaks up.

“And keep an eye on the lovely lady Gem here,” adds Cromach.

“Umm, what?” I ask.

“She’s the only changeling of yours left inside the castle, and Star Trail can come unannounced,” says Cromach, “Don’t worry, Astray won’t perv on you too much. His harem is already full.”

“Sir!” Astray looks away, blushing immediately.

To my amusement, Gem takes it in a much calmer fashion, walks up, and offers Astray her hoof.

“I don’t mind having a bodyguard keeping an eye on me. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Oh right, the changeling trials. I completely forgot about that.

Astray clears his throat, and shakes her hoof.

“I’ll make sure no harm comes to you, lady Gem.”

“Perfect!” Cromach claps his talons, “Three, your Majesty, stand over here if you will, and put that backpack on...” nods to a spot next to him and the bag on the floor. Three flies onto my back, and as we step out into the dark castle hall, Cromach wraps a wing around my back while pulling out a scroll.

“So, where are we goi-”

There’s a bright flash of light, and…

...Gem and Astray look at each other, suddenly alone.

8: Bug in the sun, bugs against fake Sun, and bug loving real Sun.

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The short yet still unpleasantly long sensation of a wingless drop through the empty void ends with wooden floor under my hooves.

“Okay, screw teleportation,” I mutter immediately.

“Wheah-oh!” Three stumbles, “Hey, sir, your mane is smoking!”

“I feel you,” announces Cromach, looking around, “Heh, hasn’t changed a bit since last time.”

“When yar at the age of my clientele, ye appreciate a familiar place, birdy,” answers a heavily accented voice, “Nice to see ye again. Yer friends too, and that’s just how my mane looks like.”

Again?

Okay, let’s start from the top.

This place looks like one of the smaller, family-run dwarf restaurants Two took me and One once to meet Topaz - a single, large room with low ceiling, a counter at the far wall with a door leading presumably to the kitchen, and fairly few tables scattered around. All the windows have blinders of surprisingly high quality for a place this rustic drawn, so the entire room is dim gloom of the… wait, isn’t there supposed to be night outside? Anyway, lastly, there’s a wooden door leading outside with glass panes in the center through which bright light is pouring into the dusty and dim interior, and all I can see is a lot of brownish yellow.

The speaker answering Cromach’s comment is…

...an alicorn. An elderly orange-fading-to-brown alicorn, to be exact, with light grey mane and tail which nonetheless look like what I could imagine as smoke or wind given life, who seems to be the only occupant of this place.

I am immediately suspicious because, you know, my experience with alicorn’s isn’t the greatest, but Cromach is smirking, and already heading towards the counter where the windy alicorn is cleaning a levitating glass with a rag wrapped around his hoof.

“So, what brings ye here?” asks the alicorn when Cromach hops onto one of many bar stools lining the counter.

“Nothing pleasant, Zephyr, though if I had a way to come here more often, I would,” Cromach shrugs, “Someone seems to be attacking alicorns.”

“Wasn’t me!” Zephyr waves his forelegs defensively, chuckling, “Although alicorn meat bean stew...”

“If you ever add it to the menu, invite me,” laughs Cromach, “No, the reason for the attacks is that someone is trying to drain their divinity. So far, queen Novo and princess Luna have been attacked.”

“And princess of Food,” adds Three, and I can almost feel the gears in Zephyr’s brain starting to turn in a different way to account for Three.

“Oh, right!” Cromach snaps his talons, “Yeah, Cadance too. This guy,” he points at me, “interrupted the attacks on Cadance and Novo, and from what I heard, Luna kicked a metric crapton of ass before the attacker or attackers took her down, which brings us here.”

“How?” Zephyr raises an eyebrow, “I think I do have an evil version in some other reality, but all he does is make the stew extra spicy. I think he calls it the anal screwdriver bowl.”

Thank you, that’s imagery I didn’t need so early in the morning.

“If even you call it extra spicy, I’m pretty sure it melts dragons from the inside,” Cromach waves his foreleg, “But I wasn’t talking about you. Before Luna passed out after the attack, she supposedly identified Magnus as the attacker.”

“What? Maggie? Naaaah,” Zephyr shakes his head so vigorously few tiny tornadoes split away from it an wibble in the air shortly before disappearing, “Maggie might be a foul mouth, but he wouldn’t hurt a mare in his dreams. Hay, I think Creamy used to tease him with some offered spanking and he just went red and started frothing into his blueberry juice.”

“I turn red too whenever miss One kisses my nose even if I’m not trying to transform. I also start glowing for some reason. Anyway, hurting anyone is bad unless they need remedial friendship lessons, so this means that Magnus guy is alright,” concludes Three.

Cromach pats his head.

“Good buggy. That’s all I know. We came here to ask if you or someone else didn’t have any idea how we could find Magnus, because it turns out that Sunbutt nor anyone we know does.”

“And Maggie likes to keep it that way,” Zephyr continues cleaning the glass for few moments while Cromach just drums his talons on the counter, “but if the situation is this serious...”

“Do you know where to find him?” asks the griffon.

“I don’t, but I know someone who might,” he points towards an empty table in the corner which is the only one with a pulled out chair for no reason I can think of. Maybe someone invisible?

“A table?” Three eyes the piece of furniture with suspicion, “It does have the right kind of legs to be a changeling...”

At least for a moment, I gain some mental anchorage in this situation when Cromach looks as confused as I’ve been feeling since the teleportation.

I follow him to the empty table, and twitch when I hear Zephyr bellow:

“HEY, KRONIE, GET OVER HERE!”

We both turn our heads to the alicorn who nods, and when we look back at the table, there’s an earthpony already sitting there, sipping from a square glass of some amber liquid. Unlike Zephyr, he’s smaller than me or Cromach, his mane is chocolate-brown and not at all magical, the rest of him is several shades lighter, and I can see his cutie mark of an hourglass.

“Come on, I told you last time- no… I told you before… or will I tell you now? Anyway, you didn’t have to yell,” says the earthpony calmly in a somewhat high-class tone.

“Sorry, have that whiskey fer free,” Zephyr just shrugs, and the glass before ‘Kronie’ refills on its own, “Anyway, these guys are here to see ya. Something about Maggie.”

The earthpony looks at us, and says:

“The closest entrance to Magnus’s tower is in the Holy City. Do you know the central market? Yes, you do,” he answers his own question before Cromach can open his beak, “It’s one of the exits he uses to grab… volunteers for his experiments. You need to be carrying a plastic cup of blueberry juice, exactly six apricots, think of a mare you’d like to have intercourse with, and walk into any part of outer wall of the Imperial palace.”

I have exactly zero idea what just transpired, so I just automatically mumble “Thank you.”

“Thank you, mister wibbly-pony!” Three smiles at the earthpony who gives him a somewhat confused look.

“That’s it, no persuading or anything?” Cromach seems to be as taken aback as I am.

The earthpony shrugs.

“Whether or not you spend five minutes persuading me won’t break this timeline or anything, really, so I didn’t see any harm in just telling you,” he picks Three up, and examines him from all sides, “Hmmm, Scream’s work.”

“Yep, I’m part lamp,” Three’s runes starts blinking various colors.

“We could be lying to try to get to Magnus and, I don’t know, harm him or something,” I suggest.

The earthpony raises an eyebrow, and gives me a smile I immediately categorize as somewhat irritatingly patronizing.

“I am the alicorn of Time, king Beard. I know what’s going on, I know what preceded this, and I know how this ends,” he glances at Cromach, “Well, most of it. There are certain loose ends which are so uncertain even I can’t see them. Amusingly enough, those depend on both of you,” finally, he sits Three down on the table, and boops his nose. Three lights up, literally, “Well, all three of you in a way.”

“Hmmm...” I rub my chin while Cromach stares at the possibly-disguised-alicorn with a puzzled expression, “Then how about you tell us what’s really going on, who is behind it, and how we kick their ass in the end?”

The earthpony smiles, and shakes his head.

“Now that would create a timeline neither of us wants. I know this will mean nothing to you, but it eventually will to our feathered friend here. The current state of the Pact of Harmony is giving us a fairly narrow path to a future which isn’t… a complete dead end. And before any of you ask, I don’t understand what happens to make it so, but I know Cromach here is either involved or directly responsible.”

“Hey, that makes two of us,” jokes Cromach, seemingly not bothered, “Though something that is invisible even to the alicorn of Time must mean that its source is outside of time, right? The question is - what is outside of time?”

“Springs and cogs,” Three raises his foreleg, “I broke a clock in the castle once on accident. It just came pouring out… The guards were really mad, but then I told them I was really sorry, they clutched their chests, and groaned that it was okay because there were enough clocks already.”

Well, that sheds some light on several sudden, previously unexplained guard vacations.

“By definition, I cannot know what’s outside time,” he shrugs, and then he clops his hooves together as if he remembered something, “Alas, when the critical point arrives, that series of events will be completely on you, Cromach, not me.”

“Greeeeat, no pressure at all,” Cromach rolls his eyes, “Any tips that would help me not flush the whole timeline into a toilet?”

“Hmmm… that statuette you left in your Manehattan office is important. Oh, and the usual - trust your heart, your instinct, and most of all your… lower parts,” he flickers, I have no other way to describe it, “Yes, that shouldn’t have ruined anything major. Oh, and where are my manners,” he raises a foreleg for a shake, “My name is Kronos. Or did I already introduce myself? I apologize, focusing on a single moment in time isn’t my strongest suit.”

*THUD!*

Before I can shake his hoof, the door of the diner slams open, and several griffons armed with sabers rush inside.

“THIS IS A STICK-UP! GIVE US ALL YOUR GOLD AND-”

“Seriously, this happens every time I’m here,” Kronos sighs.

“MORE FRIENDS! I CAN GIVE YOU ALL THE HUGS!” Three jumps down from the table.

“Don’t mean to be a stickler for reality, but yer everywhere all the time at the same time,” Zephyr corrects Kronos, undisturbed by what are over ten armed bandit raiders spreading around his establishment, and Three currently pouncing at one.

“GETITOFF! GETITOFF! IT’SEATINGMYFACE!”

Three bandits rush over to Zephyr, and one aims a pistol straight at his head. Four fan around us, pistols and sabers at the ready while the last two walk around, checking under the tables and turning the place on its head. The final one is chasing one very confused griffon crashing into tables with Three around his neck.

“You didn’t hear me, horse?” the apparent leader of the bandits slams his fist against the counter, and hiccups.

“Hmm, what?” Zephyr looks up from his glass, “I am fairly old, true. My hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

“I said -hic- I said-” he burps. The bandit next to him farts out loud, and looks around, “Seriously -hic-”

The third bandit lets out a loud and long burp that might have originally been a sentence.

Cromach snorts.

“Pretty lowbrow sense of humor, Zephyr,” he comments on the bloating and gassy trio now unable to do more than tremble, clutch their bellies, and make random gurgling noises.

“Alicorn of Winds, what do ya expect? Just open a window, will ye?” he replies.

Cromach grabs the nearest griffon by the neck, and throws him through one as if the adult and armed bandit didn’t weigh anything.

“Ahhh, fresh air...” he takes a deep breath in front of the stunned bandits who finally realize something is deeply wrong.

Another bandit tries to raise his gun, and at this point I finally let out all my frustration from the entire summit situation. Fire envelops my foreleg as I punch him. When he smashes into the wall by the door on the opposite side of the large room with an audible crack of bones, I note that I may be a little more wound up than I cared to admit to myself.

“Therapeutic, isn’t it?” Cromach grins while casually slapping the everliving shit out of another bandit while crushing his talons barely holding his gun with his other foreleg.

With only a quick nod, I pick the closest metal chair, and smash the nearest bandit with it.

“Ouch...” Kronos winces in sympathy, and disappears.

“Oh- I- I didn’t- I...” I stutter while staring at the result of my love-fueled strike, namely at a mesh of wood and metal lodged deep inside the torso of a very dead griffon, “That wasn’t even sharp!”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Cromach pats my back, “It’s no fun if you straight up kill them...” he frowns, “None left for a second round. Makes me a sad catbird.”

In horror, I stare at all the remaining griffons bloated like huge balls and slowly bouncing off of the ceiling while their uncontrolled burping and farting keeps them moving.

“STOP CRUSHING MY NECK, YOU GLOWING BUG MONSTER!”

“Never, you’re soft and cuddly!”

“I’M A BANDIT!”

“I’m a bandaid!”

“Nomad attacks are sort of a tradition by now. I mean, if you are stupid enough to try to raid an alicorn bar, you deserve that,” shrugs Cromach, nodding to the floaters, and sits down to an empty table, “Alright, we got what we came for, aaaand I kinda wasn’t thinking about a way back. Let’s wait for Sunbutt to pick us up and send us somewhere closer to the Holy City. It’s over a week-ish trip by train from here, if I recall correctly.”

The panicking bandit finally realizes that Three isn’t actually doing anything other than cuddling his neck, grabs the beaming drone under his forelegs, scowls at him, and then he realizes there’s no noise other than his heavy breathing. He looks around, sees his floating colleagues, the corpse, the broken window, and one griffon outside already fleeing. Under our glares, he very carefully lowers Three on the floor, pats his head-

“Eeeh… good glowy bug?”

-shuffles backwards to the door leading out, and quickly runs out, slamming the door behind him.

Humming and clanking of metal makes me turn my head, only to see Zephyr levitating some sort of netting and two long poles as well as a mop and a bucket, the last two landing by my chair.

“Yer cleaning yer mess, buggy! There’s a trash can outside,” Zephyr points at the half-griffon half-chair I killed. I mean I didn’t want to, it just… everything just bubbled up and… and why are they both so calm about this?

“Three, go help mister Zephyr to the kitchen,” I block Three’s line of sight of the mutilated corpse.

“Okay!” he darts behind the counter.

Unable to cope with casual murder -well, I mean it was self-defense, technically- I carry the body along with the twisted framework of the chair outside and leave it by the… trash can in the sand. Oh yeah, now there I’m outside, there’s desert everywhere, with nothing else to see other than a wall of living wind looking like Zephyr’s mane circling the diner as if we were in the eye of a hurricane. When I return back, number and number with each second, I start mopping.

Through the broken window, I can see Zephyr setting up a white net between two tall poles while Cromach has procured a glass of something green, and is just sipping it. Short moment later, Zephyr returns with a broom, and starts paddling the floating bandits outside. Three’s already bouncing one up repeatedly with his head.

“Oy, guys, I’ve got a beach volleyball set up out here,” I hear his voice, “Wanna go fer few rounds?”

Cromach peeks outside, then finishes his drink, and vaults through the broken window. In the distance, the fleeing figure of the bandit he originally threw through it screams louder and picks up the pace. Three’s temporary friend is slowly catching up to him, throwing backwards glances towards the diner.

The white griffon looks at the net, then at Zephyr casually steering one floating bandit by poking him, and in the end he shrugs.

“Ah screw it, we’ve got time. Ten points per set? Hey, your Beardedness, you coming? You and I against Three and Zephyr.”

I facehoof, and feel something shatter inside me.

Wringing the blood from the mop into the bucket, I jump out of the window myself, and take a break from morality and sanity, which are apparently overrated anyway.

As I bounce the first bandit ball over the net upon which Zephyr immediately jumps and sends him back, my sudden lack of caring makes me realize one thing:

“Huh, that’s how Comfort and Scream must feel all the time.”

***

*Knock knock knock!*

The knocking repeats itself until Ten rises from the bed and replies:

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

The bleary-eyed changeling opens the door only to see Bright Star already in full paladin armor staring back with a steel expression. With ice-cold certainty, Ten adds:

“What’s wrong?”

“Princess Luna was attacked by an unknown assailant. Every paladin within reach is being called to the castle for extra guard duty,” reports Bright Star. When Ten rushes to the armor stand in the back of his room inside Bright Star’s Canterlot estate, the older paladin’s eye stop on the bed where, other than the crumpled sheet, lies a rather extremely well-done replica of princess Celestia.

He walks inside, and pokes the plushie over twice the size of Ten.

“Good likeness,” he snickers, “Where did you even get that?”

“Hey!” Ten, halfway inside his armor, notices what Bright Star is doing, and blushes, “...had it custom made...” he mumbles in the end.

“Extra filling in the backside department, I see,” Bright Star pats the plush princess, and with a laugh at the now steaming changeling, he walks out of the room. Considering that he himself did use one of his paladin loyal service requests to spend the night with the real thing many decades ago, he has real appreciation for the quality of the work.

Ten comes out shortly after, slams the door shut, and locks it behind him. To avoid being teased further, he asks:

“How is princess Luna?”

“As far as I know, she’s alive but exhausted and unconscious. We’re supposed to patrol the castle through the rest of the night, and somepony will sort out shift schedule for the duration of the summit later today.”

Too focused on potential threats, the two don’t talk much during their trip to the castle, although Ten notes that he can’t feel any changelings other than Gem around. Of course, that can be simply because of increased magical protection fields and Gem being the top infiltrator around with the most powerful mental signature. As they enter the castle, Ten only shakes his head. He’ll figure it out in the morning. Now, his job is to make sure no threats befall anyone for the rest of the night.

About an hour later, Ten feels his eyes droop, and yawns. In the next moment, he kicks Bright Star’s foreleg, which makes the older paladin blink and gasp.

“Sorry, I must have dozed off-”

“No, you didn’t,” hisses Ten, “It’s the same thing that happened to us in the Crystal Empire! Can you feel any magic nearby?”

Bright Star furrows his brows, his horn flashes, and he scowls.

“Yes, above us. It’s massive. Why isn’t anyone examining something of that magnitude already?”

“Because of the sleeping spell. It kept even princess Cadance out cold last time, and it was happening in her room,” he kicks Bright Star again when the paladin’s head lowers mid-sentence.

“How come it’s not working on you?” he asks as he leads Ten up one floor towards the guest rooms, passing several guards sleeping on the job.

“We have tricks related to our hive mind that help. Don’t think I’m immune by any stretch of the imagination,” whispers Ten as Bright Star stops by the door of one of the many guest rooms, and points, “Alright, lockpicking time,” green fire envelops Ten’s armored foreleg before he punches the door in, and steps into...

...pitch blackness which closes behind him after two quick steps.

“Bright Star?” Ten whispers, turning around and seeing nothing.

“Light of Celestia’s sun, dispel this abomination!” proclaims Bright Star’s voice, and the darkness burns away, revealing a guest room with infinite amount of floor and ceiling spreading into the distance, but with no walls.

Bright Star is standing behind Ten, his horn flaring with golden light. In front of him lies a bed with sleeping princess Cadance and Shining Armor. Between them and the bed, though, stand two figures, one of whom Ten hoped never to see again. Even Bright Star’s eyes bulge for a moment.

“Star Trail?” he chokes out. The ex-paladin is ashen grey, whole left part of his face looks as if it was mauled by a bear, part of his horn is missing, his chestplate is dented and hacked to pieces, and the paladin longsword hovering next to him has cracks spreading all over its edge.

Behind him stands a slightly taller figure covered by black robe, its horn a clean bone glowing red and connected by thin wisps of black and crimson smoke to moaning and groaning princess on the bed.

Ten, however, isn’t paralyzed for even a second. Finally, all his service goals to both the boss and princess Celestia align with long-suppressed personal rage, and with the delicacy of a butcher he slashes at Star Trail.

The ex-paladin expertly parries, his experience outclassing Ten’s many times, but Ten’s ferocity as he grinds sword against sword makes him back off. That doesn’t help at all when Ten darts under the crossed blades, transforms his hoof into a spike, and rams it straight into Star Trail’s neck.

The normally fatal wound has no effect as Star Trail kicks Ten away with surprising strength, no blood coming out of the neck wound.

“Star Trail, what have you done?” whispers Bright Star.

“I have a second chance to make things right,” growls Star Trail, his sword now hacking at Ten with wild abandon.

“There is nothing even remotely right about what you’re doing!” Bright Star raises his voice, “Changelings aren’t enemies anymore, and what the hay are you doing with princess Cadance?”

“I don’t expect you to understand, Bright Star. I don’t even hold betraying me in front of the holy princess against you, not even after the head bug bitch tortured my mind for years. But if you try to stop me this time, I will end you!” Star Trail growls, his horn sparkling from the duel with Ten.

“Can you stop talking and help me here?!” Ten grits his teeth, pushing Star Trail back again.

“Right… right...” Bright Star shakes his head, and darts towards the robed figure. His sword lights up with golden fire and strikes a dark barrier surrounding the enemy.

“I need time!” hisses the unknown equine.

“Tick tock, motherbucker!” Bright Star blasts the enemy with light so bright it makes Ten back off and cover his eyes. That doesn’t bother Star Trail with his back towards it, whose sword slides off of the plating of Ten’s armor.

The shockwave from Bright Star’s spell has knocked the hood off of the enemy, revealing a clean skull with two glowing blue eyes. However, that seems to be the extent of the damage caused magic attack.

“Undead...” Bright Star immediately scowls, putting two and two together. A powerful lich and an ex-paladin revenant, which means one big thing. Star Trail won’t be able to use some holy magic, and in turn Bright Star’s speciality will be extra effective. Of course, that doesn’t put any limit on the lich’s power.

The floor rumbles, making Bright Star jump to the side just as a black, jagged spike erupts upwards. Before the paladin can counterattack, red lightning strikes his sword which he’s rammed into the floor, earthing the magical flow away from himself.

Green light of burning love fuels Ten’s next strike at Star Trail with such force that Star Trail’s cracked sword shatters into shards.

“That’s for Comfort’s and boss’ unborn foal, you bastard!” growls Ten, raising his sword more like a woodcutter about to chop down a tree.

Magical barrier blocks Ten’s second hammering strike, fracturing along with Star Trail’s horn. Ten follows it with a punch which cleaves a hole in it, making it disappear as few more fragments of Star Trail’s horn fall on the floor. The ex-paladin screams even as an undead as the feedback from stopped magical flows rends what’s a connection between his soul and body.

“That one was for Comfort!” the fury in Ten’s eyes is matched only by that in Star Trail’s

His charred horn only sputters few golden sparks now, and the shards of his paladin sword weakly wobble on the floor. Biting his lip, he looks up, and finally realizes that whatever his final attempt at defending himself was going to be, it would take too long anyway.

Ten’s sword, burning with twin golden and emerald flames of love and paladin magic in tune with Ten’s short horn lengthened by the effect of light twisting around it, is already coming down like a guillotine.

“AND THIS ONE IS FOR FUCKING THREE!” screams Ten, cleaving Star Trail in half from his horn down to his belly, his platemail offering next to no further resistance.

However, Star Trail’s limp flop on the floor is drowned by a loud, pained gasp of princess Cadance sitting up on the bed, clutching her chest and choking. Her eyes bulge, roll to the back of her head, and she drop back.

Pink smoke coming from Cadance shortly swirls in the air, twists around the skeletal mage, and seeps into his body. In front of him, Bright Star pulls the sword out of the floor, and back off, gathering magic into his horn.

“Finally, a full divine aspect,” the skeleton laughs, “Let’s see how it handles.”

A red beam intertwined with black smoke hits Bright Star whose armor flashes gold like his horn, smoothly deflecting the beam away. Protection from negative energy and null plane, the bread and butter of experienced paladins trained to face vampires, life-draining magic, and shadows. Complex but quick to cast, and absolutely vital.

Bright Star is about to lunge ahead when a gasp from behind him makes him turn his head. A second beam has hit Ten who withers in the span of a second, his hoof breaking off under his weight, chitin crumpling like paper unable to support the heavy armor as all his energy is drained by the lich. The light in his eyes fades along with his sword clanking on the floor. He finally lands with more a poof than a thud, his body already more dust than solid form.

On the other horrifying leg, Star Trail’s wound knits back together, though not completely, leaving him as a partially cleaved abomination staring at Bright Star.

“Works rather well, if I say so myself,” says the lich, “Now to-”

Golden light bathes the area, making Star Trail stumble backwards and the lich slump and groan. Bright Star’s horn is shining like a beacon of holy magic, keeping evil and both undead at bay, at least temporarily. A flare splits off of the glow, and lazily strikes the lich who bursts into flames, flailing around.

“Star Trail!” roars Bright Star, “You killed Three in front of his king, and now you killed my student in front of me. You did twice what was done to you. You threw away your equinity and life for this? Do you not understand that hate only breeds hate?”

“Not if one side dies out completely as they should. I will find those bugs, and kill them all properly this time,” hisses Star Trail.

“No, you won’t!” the same flare that hit the lich before strikes Star Trail who starts screaming and flailing as the holy fire devours his flesh.

Turning around, Bright Star finds himself staring face to face with the lich free from any fire. Bony talons of pure red magic grow from thin air and grip Bright Star by the neck, pulling him up like a noose. The crushing grip right above the rim of his breastplate doesn’t allow him to focus on magic or telekinesis, making several kicks his only viable course of action.

The lich laughs, possessing no real weight but still being immovable like a mountain.

“Now now, do I try to repair him, or do I simply kill and reanimate you?”

Bright Star chokes and flails, his eyes rolling backwards.

“Decisions, decision-” the lich suddenly screams and drops the paladin.

When Bright Star finally catches some amount of oxygen, he looks forward at the lich struggling under various arcing streams of lightning, pink, blue, and teal, twisting him and seemingly dragging him along back towards Cadance. The paladin tries to push himself upwards, but collapses again, barely feeling his limbs.

“No!” the lich calls out, slowly making the wild energy disappear back into him. He manages to contain it, and stumbles. Further steps only mean further loss of balance, and he can’t walk whatsoever anymore.

Unfortunately, he can apparently still use magic, because his horn flashes, and both he and Star Trail’s charred corpse disappear.

***

“Woooo, that cleared my head!” Cromach wipes his forehead after helping me replace a glass pane of the previously broken window. We finished playing bandit ball ten minutes ago, and when Zephyr remained outside to let the badly bruised bandits go we were sent to repair the window with a spare pane. Apparently, this does happen often.

And yes, the bandit corpse I left by the trash disappeared in the meantime. Don’t know, don’t ask.

I’m sitting in a chair, sipping a cold and refreshing blue drink which, while bitter, tastes of some kind of minty herbage. Maybe if I shapeshift my insides to be able to digest this, my returning worries about what I did will drown. To silence that little voice inside my head, I say out loud:

“You’re not a normal griffon, no matter what you say, mister Cromach. You’re about as common griffon as I am Chrysalis’ grandma.”

“Well, are you?” he smirks, sitting down with his own drink he poured from one of the many bottles on the shelves on the wall behind the bar counter without asking, “Alright, I get it. You won’t let this go, but the honest answer is that I’m really not anyone special, or too special. So, ask away.”

Yes, FINALLY some answers!

Wait… to which questions?

“Oookay, so… how do all the alicorns know you? Celestia, Luna, Zephyr here… and even Kronos. We’ll get to that tiny little detail of him telling you that you were the savior of the world later.”

“Long story,” Cromach raises his foreleg when I instantly take a breath to object another vague deflection, “I mean it. I’ve been involved in fighting some threats which targeted alicorns before. If one has their kind of power, they also tend to have a bullseye on their backs. Now I’m the head of Order of the Silver Sun, and our job is to offer military-style training to anyone who pays, and to find and destroy enemies who use high levels of dark magic or some fragments of divine power.”

Huh, that’s similar to that bullseye thing that Luna told me, at least I think it was Luna. Too much happened too quickly during the past few days.

“What does ‘fragments of divine power’ mean? Like… pieces of alicorns?” in my defense, that was the best I could do with my amount of experience. The only mentions of divinity I can recall are Scream’s incomplete ramblings from two years ago.

“Uhhh… where do I even start?” Cromach scratches his head, “What do you know about gods of this world?”

“Like Celestia or Luna?”

“Pfff, stars no! Alright, a really brief lecture - there are three gods of this world, not some superstitious idols, actual manifestations of the powers of creation, destruction, and potential. Being the big three, they waged a war so that only one of them would remain and become one true all-powerful entity. That kinda screwed the whole reality up and no one was able to win, so they decided to stop and to compete instead. Then they either picked this planet at random or created it to be their battleground, I don’t know which. A long time ago they made an alicorn each into whom they poured some of their power, and those three were what we now call the primal alicorns, the most powerful creatures other than the gods themselves, and by far. Magnus is the last one remaining, so if we have to kick his ass eventually, good luck to us.”

“Wait, WHAT?” I choke on my drink.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it myself if necessary. I understand that suicide missions aren’t everyone’s idea of a relaxing vacation. So, now about the fragments - those are generally any items or creatures containing divine power either created by the gods, like the Elements of Harmony or a bunch of weird monsters including alicorns, or anyone or anything able to channel the divine power permeating this world, like cults or weird machines. Lecture over. We find those things, and if they’re evil, punch them until they stop being evil. I call it lateral persuasion.”

I nod, still coughing out alcohol.

“That was brief,” although there was one word that caught my attention, “Did you say cults?”

“I said many words,” replies Cromach with his familiar patented smug tone that makes me want to put a chair in him. Damn, that went quickly from ‘boo hoo, I murdered someone’ to using it as a figure of speech. Though with his furry ass, I’m starting to consider it a vital part of my thought process.

“I mean, we killed some weird cultist two years ago, all tentacles and badassery. The watch- no… Vigil, right! Ever heard of something like that? That guy was impossible to hurt by almost anything.”

Cromach freezes, but my changeling senses are more than enough to hear his heartbeat quicken, and the almost inaudible quick drawing of breath.

He knows exactly what I’m talking about. Let’s see how honest he really is.

“The Vigil...” he breathes out, “How did you meet one of those bastards?”

“Long story,” I give him his own smug smile. Not so funny now, is it?

“I doubt you know even a tenth of it,” he growls.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” I reply with a casual, singsong voice, “Two years ago, an alicorn by the name Scream contacted me and my hive, and helped us with... certain things regarding our current home. Later, she wanted me to repay the favor by finding some blueprints she needed, which eventually led to the fight between the Vigil and my hive. It was tough, but we destroyed the cultist. I haven’t heard from Scream since then.”

“Would those blueprints by any chance be related to pillars with some kind of crystal ornaments on top?” Cromach asks slowly, clearly working through what I said in his head.

“Yes, actually. You saw the blueprints?”

“I saw the pillars and the horror they brought. I would do anything to unsee it,” he growls.

“W-What do you mean?” I lean backwards, “Scream wasn’t evil, was she?”

“No, of course you wouldn’t know anything. Scream played everyone after all...” he shakes his head, looks down at the table, silent for few moments, and when he looks up at me, even I can recognize that dead, not a thousand-yard but thousand-mile stare, “I guess you should know at least some results of the chaos you caused. First of all, the love of my life is dead because of you.”

“I… umm… I’m sorry?” is the best I can say without knowing any details.

“No,” he suddenly waves his foreleg which makes me twitch, “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to find anyone I can blame, but it won’t change anything. You, Celestia, Scream… it doesn’t matter. So you have no idea what the blueprints you found for Scream were for?”

“I honestly don’t. She kinda… rambled most of the time. I think she did mention a god or something, but anything she said was really hard to make sense of.”

“It started during our first, I think, year as the newly reformed Order of the Silver Sun. A strange group of cultists calling themselves the Vigil appeared, and we investigated them, found their base, and because we believed they were connected to some entity called The Watcher, we wanted to get rid of them before they became a problem. Of course, our first team of specialists failed, some of whom were my and my lover’s friends. All of them but one got captured, tortured, killed, and flesh-crafted into monstrosities I was forced to destroy for good. Only Connie survived it because she ran away. It was the right call, but she still considers it her fault the others died, and I can see why that’s the case. And that was only when the Vigils were just starting and still weak.”

“As I said, the one we fought was almost invulnerable and strong enough to crush my best warrior filled with love to the brim. Easily...” I mumble.

“Yeah, you must have gotten one of the elder Vigils who came later,” Cromach nods, “Well, the death of our first team was only the beginning. Our second team, few months later, uncovered the spread of strange invisible creatures around Equestria, which when investigated eventually led to the connection with the Vigil. However, that also brought Vigil attention to us, and their assassins killed two of my friends. My lover, I, and our second team destroyed the second base of the cult, upon which they went underground again, but with some help by Scream, Magnus, Chrysalis, and Void we figured out who they were and what they were ultimately after.”

“Which was?”

“They wanted to bring the god ponies currently call Harmony back to this reality which… wasn’t a good idea to say the least.”

“Harmony doesn’t sound bad.”

“From what I gathered, that name is a translation from ancient ponish which doesn’t capture what the god really is. Harmony is really bad. The fact that we are all still alive is a testament that Blaze did everything right.”

“Blaze?”

“Oh, I didn’t say it, did I? My lover was the alicorn of Hope by the name Blazing Light. When the god tried to push through the void rift opened by the pillars which Scream helped the Vigil construct, Blaze bought me enough time to kill the Vigil grandmaster, but facing against a god alone was, of course, impossible for him. Harmony purged Blaze’s divinity and obliterated him. Well, in the end, we destroyed the pillars, defeated the heart of the Vigil, and sealed the heavily wounded god back in the void between realities. Unfortunately, now we know what lurks out there, and that we didn’t stop it, only delayed it again. Blaze is gone, Void is gone, by Void I mean the primal alicorn of Death, not the empty void between realities. In retrospect, his choice of a name was a bit hit and miss. Scream got killed by the Vigil leader after helping them construct the pillars, and a lot of other good ponies died.”

“None of that was made up, was it?” I just ask, trying to wrap my head around it. We needed the help of ancient dwarven technology the world hasn’t even dreamt of, I had the best of the best of Chrysalis’ hive at my disposal, and only when we brought ourselves to our utmost limits, we defeated one of the cultists. Cromach defeated their leader and the Silver Sun members wiped out the rest of the cultists.

“No,” Cromach shakes his head, “I wish it was. Every second, I wish Blaze was still here, I wish I could get the warped reality, all the tentacles, and the gazing eyeballs from under my eyelids, but no, it’s all still there,” he downs the rest of his glass, “No matter how much I try to forget.”

Oh holes…

Now I really really hope that my guys go with the Silver Sun team quietly. Although knowing them, what are the chances of that?

***

One frowns as she stares into a mouth of collapsed tunnel, planks blocking access to the few visible pony lengths somepony could go inside before being stopped by a cave-in. It wouldn’t be accurate that memories come flooding in, but the sight of the tunnel Comfort collapsed during their first escape from Canterlot still brought the unpleasant crushing sensation of One holding the collapsing mountain on her back.

She shudders to shake the feeling off.

“So much has changed,” she whispers. Afterwards, she looks up at the shadow of upper Canterlot, adding, “...and yet so little, apparently.”

She’s standing inside a deep groove in the ground sloping up from the old mine tunnel to reach ground level, so she can’t see anything that’s not straight up, but her enhanced ears can hear faint hoofsteps which coupled with presence growing within her hive mind announces the arrival of Two. One looks at the ground nearby the dirt of which seems to be pressed down in regular intervals. That’s all One needs to know for certain that Two is already here, although invisible.

“How did it go?” asks One.

“I didn’t notice anyone following me, changeling or otherwise,” replies Two, “Can’t talk about Cryo, though. She has the subtlety of an avalanche. From what I can feel,” she focuses for a moment, “she’ll be here in few minutes. Do we set up a trap just in case?”

“You’re better at hiding,” orders One, “Stay up there and keep an eye out for anything unusual. When Cryo gets here, we’ll figure out what to do next.”

“Will do!” Two flies up to the ground level, and quickly looks around, “It doesn’t look as if someone followed us, but if there’s someone easy to track, it’s big blue. Any potential plans of action?”

“If we’re followed, punch first and ask questions later, just don’t kill anyone,” One shrugs, “We can’t afford to kill guards even in self-defense. As for investigating who attacked Novo… I tried to think of anything relevant, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. Hole, few days ago I had no idea that something like a fish version of a hippogriff existed. We don’t know who could consider them an enemy or… anything really,” One sighs, “I was kinda hoping you would come up with something. I’m stumped.”

“Alright then, let’s stick to our original plan then - we return to Canterlot, we find a safe place, then a way to communicate with the boss and see what’s going on inside the castle. That might be enough of a challenge already.”

Two can feel faint tremors coming through the ground, announcing the arrival of Cryo who, despite that, is moving in surprising silence. As the azure queen trots down into the hiding groove, Two looks up at the sky in case some guard pegasus is coming to investigate, and sees nothing. They all wait for several minutes, and then Two jumps down to the other two, and turns visible.

“Did you notice someone following you?” asks One just in case.

“No,” Cryo shakes her head.

“But they will,” Two sighs, “The forest looks as if a train ran through it. We should figure out some harmless disguises and move. I passed lower Canterlot on my way here, and there are tourists still arriving for the summit. Guards are milling around the gates, but there’s too few of them for the entering crowds. We could easily slip in.”

“Miss Connie, here they are!” they hear a cheerful voice which even to their sharp ears wasn’t preceded by any other sound of anyone approaching whatsoever.

As one, the changelings look up at a small, rusty, equine head looking down at them from the edge of the groove above.

Time slows down to a crawl.

“Do we run?” asks Two.

“Knock the mare and anyone with her out, stuff them in here, and then we transform and go back. The city gate might be less guarded than the sewers at this point,” orders One.

Not waiting another second, Two’s horn crackles with electricity, and in the next instant her whole body turns into a lightning bolt which strikes Bubbles’ chin, making the mare do several backflips in the air, and landing Two on the edge of the groove.

“Mom, she’s not alone!” reports Two just as Bubbles belly-flops on the ground, “Get up here, both of you.”

One and Cryo fly up, and see a black, white-maned unicorn floating towards them from the edge of the forest nearby in complete silence. A female minotaur dressed in way less than One associates with them from her experiences with Rift residents runs out of the foliage and quickly joins the other two.

Contradiction lands at Bubbles’ side who shakes her head, and pouts at Two:

“Hey, you didn’t have to do that!”

“You’re to return to the castle. Don’t make your situation worse,” says Connie, “So far, you’re not sentenced to anything, but we need to keep an eye on you.”

“We’ll figure out who framed our king, since you apparently have no desire to deal with the real problem, and in that we’ll find out who attacked queen Novo,” says One.

“Proper investigators will do their job, not a bunch of changeling vigilantes,” retorts Connie, “It might take time, but justice will be served.”

“Yeeeeah,” Two butts in, “Proper investigators sent us to prison without any proof and blamed our king who saved queen Novo, so forgive me if I’m not too keen on trusting you. Plus-”

“Plus,” One points at the boarded entrance to the collapsed tunnel barely visible from up here, “that place is the testament to how your justice works for changelings. I’ll give you one final chance to diplomatically turn around and pretend you didn’t see anything. We’ll figure out who framed out king and come back with their head.”

Connie and Anvil exchange glances, having no clue what One is talking about. On the other hoof, they don’t need to know.

“I wanted to avoid this,” says Connie, “But I’ve got my orders, and those are from someone who actually knows what he’s doing. Come peacefully or in a matchbox. I don’t particularly care which.”

“Two, take the small one, she looks quick, but be careful about the teeth. Cryo, ruin the minotaur’s day a little. I’ll show that smug unicorn some… diplomacy.”

The second lightning teleport punch from Two strikes only the ground this time, scattering dirt everywhere as Bubbles shifts to the side just in time to get barely grazed.

“Eep!” she the demonette squeaks in surprise, already pouncing at Two on reflex.

“Wha-?” Two gets swept into a rolling ball by Bubbles crashing into her, and kicks up with both hind legs while covering her neck and face wit her forelegs.

It works. While Bubbles is seemingly made of steel but flexible cables covered with short plush, she’s light as a feather, allowing even someone fairly weak like Two to free herself easily.

“Soooo… not going quietly?” Anvil raises an eyebrow, glancing the way of Bubbles and Two.

“Obviously not,” Connie shrugs, “Pick one, and don’t be afraid to break a leg. Chrysalis can help us put them back together.”

Huge black blur passes by, Cryo barrelling straight at Anvil already. The minotaur jumps to the side to avoid the bull rush, and the only thing that saves her from losing majority of her teeth is her spotting a black blur from the corner of her eye and curling up mid-air. Cryo didn’t just blindly charge at her, but was quick enough to react to the attempted dodge and swipe with her foreleg at her.

Anvil lands in a roll, and jumps back on her legs.

“There’s more to you than just a big, clumsy brick, isn’t there?” Anvil smirks, taking her two-handed mace from her back.

Cryo rears on her hind legs, and rams her forelegs down with her full titanic might. The ground trembles, making Anvil shift her weight. That fraction of a second is all Cryo needs for her thick hind legs to propel her forward once more.

Anvil’s laughter pierces the air as the colossus heads her way, reminding her of the old times of wrestling polar bears. Finally, an enemy worthy of her. She repeats her maneuver, filled with joy when Cryo reacts the same way, only adjusted even better for her dodge. If Anvil did exactly the same thing, she’d be far away on the ground with her bones broken. However, this time she digs her legs into the dirt after the quick hop away, and meets Cryo’s approaching foreleg with a swing of her mace.

Exactly like hammer and anvil.

As the individual skirmishes of resourceful against quick, and strong against stronger get into full swing, One examines the black and white unicorn.

Unarmed, unarmored, fit but not bulky… battlemage? Likely. Equipment - only a pair of saddlebags, possibly able to contain throwing daggers or something similar. Maybe an alchemist like Gem? No, that wouldn’t work unless the bags are filled with vials containing the same thing or she would get them confused.

With nothing much to go on other than knowing for certain that she is way tougher, stronger, and faster than the unicorn, One opts for the standard way of fighting spellcasters - not giving them time to breathe and prepare.

Only a faint glisten of green announces One’s fast advance ahead in a snaking pattern. She almost makes it to the unicorn before…

...something hits her, swatting her away into the corridor leading to the barricaded mine. She bounces off of the wall, hits the ground, and uses the moment of peace to figure out what the hole happened. It wasn’t a precise strike of an invisible weapon, it was as if she hit an invisible wall, or more like if a wall hit her.

“Alright then,” One grins, “A battle of endurance it is then, little girl.”

Green passes through her chitin again, and she jumps out of the corridor to ground level where the unicorn is just watching from the same position she was before. Behind her, Bubbles flies through the air like a bullet straight at Two. The unicorn doesn’t even flinch.

Not bothering with speed or strength enhancements this time, One rushes straight at the mare. Her world spins as something grabs her by her legs, swings her in a long arc above Cryo and the minotaur, and breaks a fully grown tree in half with her. This does make One wince, although she wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Shifting her love usage again, One kicks herself off of the trunk with an empowered kick straight at the unicorn. Granted, if this hits, it will likely break most of her ribs, but that’s what magic users deserve anyway.

She hits, the blow finally connects. What it connects with, though, is what must be a completely invisible barrier surrounding the mare who grits her teeth a little. That’s when One turns invisible.

The unicorn backs off, but as expected, that reaction is painfully slow to what One can do, and she’s already rearing behind her, pouring love into her foreleg for a punch.

The punch almost touches the mare before stopping who kicks up with her hind legs in response, hitting One without any relevant effect other than a minor shove. Yes, compared to what One usually fights, the unicorn is fairly weak. As the unicorn turns around, One spits goo at her which once again hits the barrier.

This time, invisible One remains still, making the mare turn her head in an expectation of another attack from a surprise angle. Instead, One tiphoofs towards her, cocks her foreleg back, and swings.

Contradiction yelps when her telekinetic field faces something with the speed of a bullet and yet kinetic energy of a speeding train, but to her own surprise her telekinesis holds even without her having to draw upon her other power. Still, the black hoof an inch away from her face does make her frown as she calmly backs off from the invisible changeling now firmly caught and squirming in her telekinetic grip.

“YOU WILL NOT MAKE ME LOSE ANY MORE OF MY HIVE!” a roar makes her clamp her hooves over her ears.

The huge changeling starts flailing wildly at Anvil trying to hide between trees which shatter into splinters when faced with the rampaging beast.

“I think something made her really mad!” yells Anvil, instantly leaping away through the foliage.

What looks strange, though, is that the changeling doesn’t seem focused on her despite it being clear she had to see her escape.

“NOT YOU!” the changeling punches a hole through a thousand-year old tree, “AND NOT EVEN YOU!” with one vertical strike, she grinds a pony-sized boulder into gravel.

Short distance away from Anvil and the unfortunate forest facing Cryo’s devastation, Bubbles once again jumps at Two. She’s the only one who knows who everypony involved is from her time together with Three and Eleven, and as such she has zero desire to actually hurt Two despite the orders not to hold back. Besides, it’s not as if Two is a threat to her.

Then she gets hit by a hurled tree.

The trunk which would easily crush a building bounces off of the ground and the hole into which it pushed Bubbles. The demonette shakes her head, blinks few times, and gets smashed in the back of her head by a rock held in both Two’s forelegs.

“Ouch!” she snaps her jaws at the young changeling who backs off, gasping for breath from their intense battle… or what Bubbles would call playtime, really.

Suddenly, she feels a sting in her side, and her world turns into blurs.

One, having just punted Bubbles into the sky with a love-fueled kick, pats Two’s head.

“What -haah- is going -haah- on?” Two chokes out.

“Cryo,” One nods to the roaring and flailing titan.

Everything is white. Why is everything white? Wasn’t she in a forest in summer a moment ago? Snowing, here in Cant… here in… here up north? Cryo shakes her head, pulls out a spear jammed between her chitin chest plates with her teeth, and rams it into the eye socket of the minotaur foolish enough to attack the queen.

Crushing his ribcage with her hoof, she looks up only to face a muscular minotaur as tall as she is with an axe in each hand. The chieftain’s weapon bites into her chitin and breaks through, making her rear backwards in pain.

Three changelings rush at him to protect their queen, and one receives his remaining axe right through his muzzle. That’s enough time for Cryo to transform her hoof into claws which snap around the chieftain’s neck, and twist. After instant crunch despite the minotaur’s rope-like neck muscles, she throws the corpse into the snow.

“Crack their heads, I want to know where they came from,” says Cryo, and several infiltrators rush off to examine the snow drifts now red with blood of minotaurs, “Most of them are males, which means there’s a camp or a village somewhere nearby.”

She looks at the dark mountains towering ahead. For the past few days, the blizzard has been gathering strength, and it’s bound to strike soon at full force. She, as a queen, has been able to adapt to the frozen northern wastes during their months long march from Canterlot and so have most of her infiltrators. The drones and warriors were growing weaker and weaker, though.

“Your Majesty,” reports the current number One, a warrior trying to keep his voice steady despite the creeping cold, “We lost thirteen warriors, six infiltrators, and twenty drones,” he hangs his head low, “They surprised us completely. I take full responsibility for misjudging the threat.”

“If I had someone who could do it better, I would feed you to the survivors, but I don’t,” growls Cryo, “So take this as an opportunity to be a better changeling and adapt.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” he bows, happy to keep his life in a situation which he knows the majority of changelings wouldn’t survive.

“How do the minotaurs deal with this cold?” asks Cryo.

“Some wear pelts, your Majesty, and others use some kind of… ointment. Mostly, though, I assume they’re just used to this, having been born here.”

“Movement, ointment, pelts,” she walks over to the chieftain’s corpse, rips his head off, and examines it from all angles. Slicing his nose open with her claw, she shows it to One, “This. Structure of nose hair. Have an infiltrator examine and replicate it,” she tosses the head to One, “Trying to warm up just by moving is pointless if all it does is make us breathe more frozen air. Then take all their pelts and use them. If those don’t fit, make them fit. Make the unusable scraps into bandannas for those who won’t be wearing anything. If you find whatever that ointment thing, rub it on them too. We’ll see if it helps. If the weather gets even worse, we’ll need to find the minotaur village or we’ll have to march towards the mountains.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

With infiltrators scattering into the distance, Cryo resumes leading her hive into the mountains. This inhospitable part of the world bears many dangers, but there’s one huge benefit of it - if even her hive is having trouble with the weather, none of Chrysalis’ spies will ever find them.

Short time later, traps hidden in the snow snap, and chains suddenly wrapped around her legs pull her backwards. She howls along with the noise of blizzard in her ears.

Two’s jaw drops as she sees the unicorn mare’s horn glow sickly, sea green color…

...the same as massive see-through tentacles pulling Cryo away from the bleeding minotaur mare trying to push herself off of the ground and failing.

“Cryo! CRYO!” Two calls out, trying to break through the strange mental barrier surrounding the azure queen’s mind, “Auntie!”

“Whuh? Little beard?” Cryo notices the tentacles thicker than her torso dragging her backwards, “What’s going on? I’m being eaten by an octopus!”

“She’s okay!” reports Two, “Mom, punching time!”

“Already on it!” One charges at the unicorn.

“ALRIGHT, ENOUGH!” yells the mare.

A fresh tentacle rams into One mid-jump and smashes her against the ground several times. Two turns invisible, but gets instantly pulled into the air by something completely invisible, and grunts as she feels pressure tighten against her creaking chitin.

“Miss Connie, miss Connie!” Bubbles gallops out of the forest absolutely devastated by Cryo’s rampage, “Look whom I found!”

Bubbles isn’t alone. On her back, there’s a changeling tiny even in comparison to her, barely awake and making faint running motions with his legs. Limping behind, the remaining Elevens are struggling to get through the uneven terrain to the scene of the battle.

“What are those?” Connie shoves all held changelings together so that she doesn’t have to focus on all sides.

“That’s Eleven!” Bubbles carefully lowers the Eleven on her back on the grass, upon which the little changeling starts wobbling towards One, “He has a message for us and for the changelings.”

“For us?” Connie raises an eyebrow. Anvil has finally gathered herself, limped over to Connie, grabbed three suppressors, and put one on each changeling’s horn. Aside from Eleven, that is.

“...boss said… boss said not to fight. You have to... to come back to the castle... and help, because Three… Three got attacked by some guy... called Star Trail,” Eleven whispers. In the back, some Elevens previously wobbling in pairs to stay upright collapse, which makes Bubbles rush over and start carrying them to the clearing.

“...what?” whispers One in a tone that makes chill run down Two’s spine. Suppressor or not, before Connie turning the message over inside her head can react, One knocks her on the ground, standing on her and shaking her by her shoulders, “I THOUGHT YOU FUCKERS LOCKED HIM UP FOR GOOD!”

“I- d-d-d-d-d- ouch!” Connie bites her tongue when she tries to speak with One shaking her. Invisible force knocks One away, and the unicorn stands up on all fours, “I don’t know who that is.”

“We must get to the castle right the fuck now!” One interrupts her, “Eleven, how are Three and the boss?”

“Three’s okay, miss One. Mister Astray saved him on orders of some Cromach guy who was supposed to keep an eye on him after you escaped. He warned the boss about some things and wants to keep him and Three safe,” head Eleven is being propped up by Bubbles who has manage to recover the remaining ten now lying on the stomped grass nearby, passed out.

“What’s Cromach trying to do now?” Connie rolls her eyes, “Nevermind. Castle, now! We can sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sure...” Eleven wobbles his hoof, “I’ll be right… with you...” and he collapses out of sheer exhaustion.

Connie levitates several Elevens on each changeling’s back, one on Bubbles’, and one on her own. With few still lying down, she simply scoops them all up into a telekinetic hold.

“...wheee...” mumbles one weakly, making swimming motions with his legs.

Pointing towards where One knows is the entrance to lower Canterlot obscured by foliage, Connie glances at One and Cryo, saying:

“Don’t try anything funny, or I’m crushing those little guys and dealing with you next.”

“Monochrome beard is mad,” mutters Cryo. Two smirks.

***

Bright Star knocks on the door of princess Celestia’s room, and waits. Next to him, Ten’s helmet is hovering in the air. This early in the morning, the princess should just be waking up and getting ready to raise the sun. However, nothing happens for several minutes, so he repeats his knock. This time a maid passing by sees him, clears her throat, and says, clearly nervous from talking to a paladin:

“I apologize for disturbing you, sir, but the princess is with princess Luna in the castle infirmary.”

“Thank you,” Bright Star nods, and heads off.

Mulling over whether there was something more he could have done to save Ten would be pointless, but the first changeling paladin’s grim fate didn’t bode well for the relationship already strained by this whole event. First, he has to report to princess Celestia, and then… then he has to tell the bad news to the boss.

After Star Trail and the lich disappeared, he woke princess Cadance and prince Shining Armor up and explained what happened. The princess was crushed by Ten’s death, obviously knowing the changelings the best by now, while the prince rushed off somewhere, mumbling something about security.

Approaching the infirmary wing, Bright Star sighs. He’d been through wars, ambushes, conflicts of all kinds, and he knows how quick and random death can be. The knowledge doesn’t make dealing with it any easier, though, especially the death of somepony like Ten who, as originally Chrysalis’ throwaway changeling and survivor of previous Star Trail’s madness, know best that no tomorrow was certain.

Soon, he finds princess Celestia in a room guarded by two other paladins who lower their heads, knowing full well that the empty helmet Bright Star is carrying means the loss of one of them. The solar princess is sitting by a bed in which princess Luna is lying, both quietly talking to each other until he enters.

“No… not another attack,” Celestia breathes out. Bright Star looks at the floor, and nods.

“Yes, your Highnesses. Star Trail and some lich attacked princess Cadance. From what I understand, this wasn’t the first time. The method of attack was exactly the same - a widespread, powerful sleep spell, sound dampening spell, and this time also a pocket dimension created to avoid any visitors.”

“They trapped me in a pocket dimension as well after I defeated them in the dream realm,” Luna nods, “Any clues to who the lich is?”

“You said it was Magnus,” Celestia tilts her head in confusion.

“What? No, I didn’t,” Luna frowns.

“The guards said they heard you say his name before you passed out.”

“No, nononono!” Luna shakes her head, “I… I understood his -the lich is a stallion, that I’m sure of- intentions when his spell struck me. He wants to become immortal like Magnus, without blood sacrifices, without stealing bodies, or anything similar.”

“But aren’t liches already immortal by definition?” Celestia furrows her brows.

“Yes and no. Eternal existence doesn’t mean eternal life. I’ve known several mages you would consider… dark even though their intentions originally weren’t. There are things gnawing on you when you’re an undead, your body, soul, sanity. We bypass this because we are divine creatures. We and Magnus. He’s the only one who knows the secret to true eternal life without divinity.”

“The lich used some kind of energy draining magic on princess Cadance,” reports Bright Star, “and I believe he managed to complete the spell despite our interference.”

The paladin describes everything he can recall from the battle. When he gets to Ten’s death, Celestia lets out a long, drawn-out, heavy sigh.

“My little changeling, who liked my big butt a little more that was healthy...”

“You don’t know the half of what he dreamt about,” adds Luna, “May he rest in jiggly peace. Does king Beard know?”

Bright Star shakes his head.

“I wanted to find princess Celestia first. I’ll go inform the boss when I’m done here.”

He feels Celestia’s telekinesis grasp the helmet he’s holding.

“No, I’ll do it myself. It’s my duty to inform the families of the fallen,” she shakes her head, and stands up, “Sister, you did say the lich’s spell drained divinity from you, but that you know you’d be okay after enough rest. Could it be because the lich didn’t manage to channel it fully?”

“It’s possible,” Luna nods, “which means that like with Cadance, he will be back for me, and we know the castle isn’t safe. We just don’t know why. There’s good news in this, though.”

“Which is?”

“This isn’t about the summit. Queen Novo simply was the least guarded divine target, that’s all. Speaking of which, you really need to apologize to king Beard, sister,” Luna looks meaningfully at Celestia who nods.

“I will. Sadly, once again I get to realize the full extent of my mistake too late,” levitating Ten’s helmet, Celestia turns to Bright Star, “You did the best you could, Bright Star. Thank you.”

“I know you mean it, your Highness, but right now… words feel incredibly hollow. I’ll feel better once we figure out why the castle’s magic wards are providing us no protection in these dark days,” replies the paladin.

***

“Do you think Celestia is coming?” I ask as the sun sets, and darkness falls on the desert.

“Not sure how regularly, but I assume so,” Cromach shrugs. Seriously, he’s worse than my changelings, “If not, though, it would go a long way to explain why she’s so uptight all the time.”

“You know what I mean,” I roll my eyes, “We’ve been here for a day already. What if someone else got attacked? What if it was her and she can’t teleport us back?”

“I’d be way more worried about her relying on us getting back on our own with tied up Magnus in a bag,” he drums his talons on the table, “Wouldn’t be the first time...”

“Yer a bit too harsh on Sunny,” Zephyr chimes in from the counter, “Heck, I can barely run a diner without forgetting I have stew on a stove, and she has to run a whole country. At our age, it’s sometimes hard to hold a thought… and other things.”

“Yes, the idea of senile Celestia pissing herself in public, and yelling at guards on the lawn to get off certainly fills me with hope for the future,” smack my forehead against the table.

“Hmm, that image does make me want to take things into my own talons,” Cromach rubs his chin, “I mean, there’s a village with a train station not too far north from here,” looking at his backpack occupying one empty chair at our table, he asks, “So, you wanna head off?”

“Right now at night? Wouldn’t it be better to leave when we can see something?”

“I can go in the front,” Three raises his hoof, making pink lights dance around the room before sipping something sweet and chocolate-y Zephyr called Bailey’s when he pulled it out of a swirling hole in space.

“First time in the desert, I assume?” he reaches into his backpack, and starts rummaging in it. When I nod, he pulls out a jingling pouch, “Zephyr, do you still have desert gear for sale?”

“Sure. Just for the big buggo, though,” the alicorn reaches under the counter, and tosses me a fully loaded backpack which casually floats towards me on a swirling cloud, “I don’t have smaller ones.”

Cromach pulls out several gems from the pouch and leaves them on the table. A moment later they disappear.

“Care to explain at least something?” I ask.

“Well, it’s a really dumb idea to walk under the scorching sun. If you have a compass and know where you’re going, which we do, it’s way better to cross a desert at night. Aaand if you have sturdy boots in case of scorpions. I do, and you’re a changeling.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath. Screw it, Celestia has already proven to be incompetent beyond my worst nightmares.

“Let’s go,” I nod, and wave at the alicorn of Wind, “Thank you for your hospitality, mister Zephyr.”

“Yeah, thanks, Zeph,” Cromach smiles at him as well.

“Have a nice eternity, mister Zephyr,” Three waves his foreleg vigorously.

“See all of ya!” Zephyr taps his forehead and points to us, “Good luck with Maggie.”

And so, we head off into the sandy night.

Sandy night that gets colder and colder as hours pass. Aren’t deserts supposed to be hot? The only source of warmth right now is Three snoring above my backpack.

“I-i-i-i-is it n-n-normal that it’s s-s-so f-freezing?” I stutter out.

“Oh yes,” Cromach glances my way, “Water surfaces and natural storage like trees generally stabilize climate in an area, and since there’s nothing but sand around, deserts heat up easily, and when the heat dissipates at night, they get really cold. If I recall correctly, Zeph normally adds robes to the backpacks.”

“Y-you’re n-not bothered b-by the cold?” I ask, putting Three down, and rummaging in the back to finding something coat-like from white cloth.

Cromach shrugs as I figure out how to put the thing on.

“Not really. I wonder why you’re taking this temperature so bad. You know, changeling and one from the north on top of that. If the robe won’t be enough, we can camp for few hours in a tent. That should help.”

When I wrap the clothing around myself, the relief is almost instant, and with one look at the compass, I get ready to resume heading north.

“I didn’t want to burn love on figuring out adaptations to both freezing cold and scorching heat. Without that, I’m still a bug-like pony, and neither of those species enjoy cold much.”

With some space freed by the clothes, Three climbs into my backpack, and falls asleep again, only his dangling head peeking out.

I sigh.

“I wonder how the summit is going. Hole, I wonder if I’ll make it back in time to see the result.”

“Don’t worry, your Beardedness,” Cromach waves his foreleg, “Once we get to civilization, I’ve got friends who can spare us some walking time.”

“...friends are awesome...” mumbles Three, “...I had a friend gun once. It shot green hugs...”

With soft warmth of love trickling to me from Three falling asleep from gentle rocking of my walking, I power through the night, mostly in silence. As it turns out, Cromach is okay as well, although he’s been yawning quite heavily for the past hour. And eventually, light of the morning flows across the desert, heralding the dawn of the new day.

In the light off to the east, I can see movement.

“Cromach, are we near the town already?” I ask.

“No, we should still be about half a day away. Why do you ask?”

“I can see someone moving ahead. A lot of small figures.”

“Damn it!” he hisses, “You and Three need to shapeshift into ponies or griffons, now!”

“Three, wake up!” I mentally poke him.

“Mmmm? I’m up, boss.”

“We need to disguise ourselves immediately.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

In the next moment, I feel the weight inside my backpack shift, and when I turn my head, a sky-blue, yellow-maned pegasus colt is yawning at me.

My turn, I guess.

A unicorn would be useful, if I don’t want to be a griffon, since me being a pony might cover some of my lack of knowledge about the Griffon Empire in case I say or do something inappropriate.

“Big black unicorn, vivid blue mane, blue eyes,” Cromach appreciates my disguise, “Gotta admit, my heart is getting throbbed real hard here,” his laugh sounds somewhat hollow, though. Did my disguise remind him of something?

In the next ten minutes, it turns out that the figures on the horizon notice us, and a crowd of thirty-or-so griffons in gear similar to ours approach.

“Oh great… more nomads,” Cromach takes off the heavy axe from his back, “Can we be more unlucky?” he narrows his eyes, “Fuck, we can...”

“What’s wrong?” I frown.

“The guys in the back are pulling cages. These griffons are slavers. They’ll surround us, and then they’ll either tranq us or just beat us up. Get ready to kick ass.”

Soon, the slaver ranks split to spread around us, and Cromach straight up charges ahead, axe raised. He cleaves the nearest griffon in half including the sword he was attempting to block with. In a fluid motion, his sweeping swing decapitates another one.

I need to help him, though, because while his furious assault is leaving cripples and corpses in its wake, the swarming slaves are quickly surrounding him.

“Alright, Three, hold on tight!” I say, charging into the fray and feeling tiny legs grasp me through the backpack.

Even as a unicorn, when I swing my foreleg on a griffon who backs off, a burning love blade extends only for a second, and hacks his foreleg off before disappearing. Whenever I punch from out of range, more stabbing or slashing love weapons make up for the distance and permanently disarm, or disleg, enemies. Unlike Cromach, I’m careful not to kill anyone, although if they bleed out later it’s not exactly my problem.

Slashing my way to Cromach now surrounded by a ring of griffons hacked to pieces, I get in there just in time to notice pistols being drawn at him.

I jump in the way when the blasts echo through the desert. Cromach turns his head when I get hit, the bullets doing no damage. I might be a unicorn on the outside, but I sure as hay am used to fighting projectile weapons of way greater caliber than these.

“Thanks!” Cromach jumps forward, splitting the skull of another griffon raising a shotgun.

“Unicorn magic!” yells someone, “Take him down!”

When I turn my head away from Cromach, four griffons are already on me, dragging me down onto the sand. An emerald blade of my hoof stabs on clean trough, but his body is already on me, and in the next moment I’m staring up a barrel of a shotgun.

“Stop struggling or I’ll blow your head off!” says the griffon aiming at me while another one pulls Three out of my backpack and throws him on the ground. I could probably survive that, but I don’t doubt in the slightest they’d try something with Three to stop me.

More gunshots cut through the air. I can’t see what’s happening with Cromach, but I can hear crackling of electricity, even more gunshots, some groaning, and eventually a thud.

“Treat the big guy,” barks someone who sounds in charge, “A griffon like him will fetch a serious price on the market. Keep an eye on the unicorn, he knows some dangerous magic. As for the colt… farmers always need workers, and they like them young.”

A pair of forelegs screws a suppressor onto my horn shortly after.

Two griffons carrying tied up and heavily bleeding Cromach pass me, and throw him into one of the small cages with wheels in the back of the nomad crowd. Three gets thrown into another one, and I, under the shotgun guidance, step into another one.

The good part is that Three isn’t hurt at all, and I’m in a good shape. The bad part is that Cromach is unconscious, and judging by the amount of blood all over him, he’s knocking on death’s door, although one of the griffons is about to treat him.

Sitting down and closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.

All in all, this could have gone a lot better.

9: Wait, it can go to hell even more?

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“They killed fifteen of us, we can’t go on with the plan,” reports a griffon nomad, the doctor judging by his big bag of medicinal equipment, “The raid would have been tough as is, but we lost the guys who, let’s face it, were our front line.”

In my slowly rolling cage, I smirk. Unfortunately, that’s the only satisfaction I’m allowed right now. We’ve been plodding through the morning desert for several hours already, getting further and further away from our goal. If nothing else, Three is okay and bundled up in a white ball in a cage to the left. Cromach, though…

...I have no idea how he’s still breathing. The doctor pulled seventeen bullets out of him after they took him down. He was more red than white, and yet he’s not dead. None of those were fleshwounds either. Even right now, wrapped in bandages, he barely fits into the cage, his talons hanging limp between the bars.

“We can always recruit more griffons. This is only a short setback,” says the bandit chief, “Besides, you saw that white guy fight. We place few bets on him in the arena, we’ll have more money than by raiding some nameless hole filled with peasants. I assume we can squeeze something out of the unicorn too.”

“And the colt?” the doctor nods lightly to Three.

“Someone will buy him, don’t worry about that,” the chief shrugs, “Young ponies have million uses in the south, and some aren’t even that bad.”

“I could find a use for him, especially since we lost almost half of our guys, and another ten are heavily wounded or crippled.”

“Sure, although when did I say we’d be taking care of cripples?”

“Chief?” the doctor looks taken aback.

“I’m not an unfair griffon,” the bandit leader raises his voice, “We have a lot of spare gear lying around, everyone! If you can’t move properly or hold a weapon anymore, you can leave. We have no use for you, and we’ll split gold of the dead guys with you in exchange for silence. That’s right, all I ask of you is to keep quiet about our hideout.”

I look around and see about eight griffons who previously had the misfortune to fight Cromach or me hesitate and split from the group.

“Doc, give them their share,” the chief pats the doctor’s shoulder. As the smaller griffon walks off to count the gold, the chief whispers something a big griffon by his side who in turn whispers into the ear of another one.

“Good luck,” I hear the doctor say after he’s done, and the griffons head off… northwest if I’m reading the long line of hoof and paw prints in the sand correctly.

The chief raises his talons.

Eight rifle shots disturb the silence of the desert, each sending one griffon down onto the sand.

“What?!” the doctor raises his voice, and goes deathly quiet when the chief puts a talon on his beak.

“We might not have succeeded in a raid, but we’ll be making profit some way or other. Besides, do you really think they would have kept quiet under Legion questioning?” when the doctor just sighs and looks down at the sand, the chief pats his head, “Good guy. It’s hard to find a griffon with common sense in this line of work.”

Five griffons are already looting the dead, and the group soon resumes moving. Presuming we’re headed to the bandit hideout, I observe the dynamics of the bandits. Sadly, there’s not much to see, as everyone is quiet with the chief and two huge, scarred griffons in the front and one in the back. The best I can do is figure out that we’re headed straight east.

In two more hours, we enter something I wasn’t expecting in the desert - an area of green vegetation growing around a small lake. Several griffons greet us, commenting on the brutally thinner ranks of the returning bandits, and receiving few non-committal answers regarding the three of us. What I presume to be the bandit camp opens before us after less than a minute of pushing through the wall of greenery - thirty or so tents of varying sizes scattered in a circle around a campfire. Speaking of Three, he wakes up as one griffons picks him up to move him into a larger cage in the back, this one without wheels. For a moment, I freeze, thinking they’ll split us up, but apparently there aren’t that many cages for captured prisoners, so I end up between Three and Cromach again.

Huuuh, I did notice two female griffons in the raiding group, but there are others here, chained by one hind leg to something inside the tents. Oh, and a mare as well. A slave now doing laundry for one of the bandits? Come to think of it, the longer I watch, the more servants I can see.

Soon, the doctor arrives to check up on Cromach, carrying several bottles of something with sharp, acrid scent, a bucket of boiling water, and fresh bandages. A female griffon arrives shortly after, her wings bound and hind legs connected via a chain, with more water, this time not steaming. As the doctor begins treating Cromach who only hisses from time to time, the chick lets Three out of his cage and starts cleaning him up.

It’s late afternoon by the time they’re finished with us.

“Thank you, nice lady,” Three, back in the cage, gives the chick a wide smile as she passes by to leave. She glances his way, giving him only a blank, exhausted look. That doesn’t discourage Three who only beams wider. Sadly, even this doesn’t cheer her up, which makes Three sigh and admit defeat… for now. Come to think of it, that might be the first time I’ve ever heard that particular little dejected squeak from him, “I don’t think she likes it here,” he concludes.

“Yeah, I wonder why...” Cromach croaks, trying to push himself up, hissing, and adding, “Okay, bad idea.”

He shouldn’t be awake by any means. On the other hole, he really shouldn’t be alive with those wounds. While I don’t know too much about him as a griffon, just a tiny bit about his background, I’m happy he’s getting better, even though he’s somehow breaking the laws of reality by it, I’m pretty sure.

“You shouldn’t be moving, mister Cromach,” says Three, “Only loveless changelings are supposed to have that many holes in them.”

“Hey,” he chuckles, “I’m a somewhat loveless griffon, does that count?”

“Boss, I really want to transform, get out of this cage, and hug him!” Three’s voice arrives inside my head.

“Don’t! I need you disguised for now,” I order.

“Okay, boss.”

“Hnnngh!”

In his cage, Three sits up on his haunches, nose scrunched with effort, and starts making weird wibbly motions with his forelegs towards Cromach who seems about as surprised as I am.

“What’s that supposed to be?” the griffon raises an eyebrow, slowly managing to push himself up and prop his back against the bars.

“Beats me,” I shrug.

“If I can’t… hug directly yet… I can send love… and hugs!” Three’s voice is quiet and strained.

“Uhhh...” Cromach is stumped.

“I mean, we can transfer love between changelings remotely if needed, but you can’t just hug someone so far-” I realize I’m talking to a changeling who reportedly cured several cancer patients already, made friends with a robot and an unholy murderous amalgamation of vengeful souls, and whose most heroic dream is to be my emergency ration if needed, “You know what? Nevermind. Keep trying.”

“Hnnnnnnnghhh!” few green sparks burst out of Three’s forehead, a pair of glowing green legs appear by Cromach’s sides, and softly squeeze him, disappearing a second later. Three’s eyes cross, he wobbles and blinks, and smiles triumphantly, “Get hugged!”

Reality defying griffon, meet my own little cheater.

“I appreciate the thought, but please stop squeezing more blood out of me,” Cromach winces, “I’m kinda fragile right now.”

So, what have I managed to observe? It seems that the sudden loss of so many bandits means they have to rely on the cages to hold us, and not on someone keeping an eye on us at all times. Unfortunately, their plan is clearly to sell us, which most likely means splitting us up. I can’t allow that, at least for Three. I could part ways with Cromach, but that would be unwise as well, since without him it would take needlessly long to get out of the Griffon Empire.

What to do…? What to do…?

“Got any plans on how to get out of here?” I hiss at the griffon.

“I’ll be useful in a day or two,” Cromach squeezes his chest, “Ouch! Alright, three at most. I might not deflect bullets, but I sure have learned that I heal quickly. Then we get out, break few necks, grab some desert gear, free the slaves, and return to civilization.”

“I can’t wait three days!”

“Because…?”

“Because I’m supposed to be on the summit, making sure some idiot doesn’t decide that by rules of Equestria we’re supposed to obey Chrysalis, reveal where we live. or be inspected each month or something similarly stupid. I don’t know if you noticed, but even though there has been peace for years, we’re still being looked down at. I need to change that, or at least help make things better. On top of everything, damn Star Trail is running free around the castle, powerful enough to attack alicorns without repercussions, and that guy won’t stop until my changelings, and probably all changelings, are dead. If they even get to that point, because your crazy Vigil-slaying agents are hunting them. Is that enough of a reason to be a little impatient?!”

To my surprise, Cromach takes a deep breath, and raises a single talon.

“Are you so sure your guys are incapable of dealing with what’s going on themselves?”

“No, I just-” I realize I have nothing to say to that. In the end, all I can say is this, “I believe in them, I believe that they are smart enough to deal with the situation, but if I’m around, I can make it easier and less risky. I would run myself ragged to improve their chances of not getting seriously hurt by a single percent. You can understand that, I hope.”

Expecting another jab, it quite surprises me that Cromach breathes out and deflates.

“I… I used to,” he looks away.

Fine, I can take this sitting down, believe in my changelings, and patiently wait for an opportunity to deal with my current situation after Cromach recovers.

I know they can take down Star Trail on their own.

…

Fuck that! I’m getting us out.

***

Two drones and one infiltrator are standing around something weird. It looks like an elongated, see-through, green-tinted half-egg, which on its side could fit a big earthpony, set inside a black, stone-ish bedding connected to a ceiling via a thick, clear, rubber tube.

The changelings remaining in Brauheim were all secretly hoping that Five, Six, or Seven would have come back by now, but in their prolonged absence it’s up to them to continue with Five’s project. Granted, in theory the idea would open a lot of new avenues of feeding for the new changelings who still require help from above. In reality, though, it could really use the help of someone responsible for it.

If only because the new changelings have trouble remembering their numbers, since they don’t have any need for them among themselves, and they don’t interact with the dwarves enough to need an actual outwards identity. Pretty much the only thing they can remember clearly is that one-oh-one to one-oh-four are the warrior and infiltrator guys, and the rest to one-twenty are drones. Generally, when they’re called out, one steps up to do what’s required of them.

Still, there’s one thing the boss would appreciate, which is that they’re not going on with the orders out of fear of punishment, but out of genuine belief the his plans will make things better. The fact that they don’t understand those is only a minor inconvenience.

“Step one - finish the pod,” says the infiltrator, “I thought it would be a good idea to give the first one a test run before we make more in case something unforeseen goes wrong.”

The drones look at him silently. They don’t have anything to add, really.

“Step two,” continues the infiltrator, “Find a pony volunteer.”

“Well...” one drone scratches its head, “We did find one, but Five wanted a mare.”

“And since you needed someone quickly for this experiment,” adds the other drone, “The only willing pony not asleep right now was Two’s coltfriend Topaz.”

The infiltrator facehoofs.

“And where is he?”

“Here!” comes from a cave connected to the one with the ‘pod’, “They told me this was supposed to be the waiting room, whatever that is. And I’m quoting the drones here.”

“We thought we should check the whole process. That’s what Six would do,” says a drone.

The infiltrator has to admit that’s probably right.

“Good idea, come in, mister Topaz.”

The uncharacteristically unarmed and unarmored dwarf walks in, feeling very naked and uncertain. Not that he has any reason to be afraid of the changelings, but for the past fifteen minutes, he’s come to the conclusion that they have about the same idea about what’s supposed to happen as he does.

The infiltrator taps into the instructions inside the hive mind left behind by Five.

“So, you are supposed to lie down into the pod and...” the infiltrator pauses, “Umm… sleep.”

“I was just about to go to sleep anyway, although in my own bed,” mutters Topaz, but as his curiosity wins, he climbs into the egg-like pod. The gooey base perfectly shapes under his back, and he whistles in admiration. It’s like jello, but not sticky at all, “Hmmm, comfortable, actually. You could make good living selling goo mattresses. What now?”

“Alright, you drones are supposed to be able to operate this too,” the infiltrator nods, and a drone walks over, putting a hoof on the pod. Some focusing later, green membrane sprouts from the base, and completes the egg shape, encasing now slightly more nervous Topaz inside. The infiltrator senses his unease immediately.

“Don’t worry, mister Topaz. This is supposed to happen,” he turns to the drones, “Filling?”

“One-oh-something is in the cave above this one, ready.”

“Hey, pull the lever!” sounds through the hive mind.

Some gurgling and bubbling later, the hose connecting the pod to the ceiling fills with viscous goo making its way down…

...straight on Topaz’s head.

“Umm, flaw one in the design?” a drone looks up at the infiltrator captivated by sputtering and thrashing Topaz doing his best to wipe the increasing amount of goo off of his face.

“Duly noted,” the infiltrator nods in sympathy, ”Let’s hook the next pod up by the legs, not the head.”

“Yep.”

Topaz has managed to move his head to the side to avoid the flowing goo which has now covered him up to his neck.

Unfortunately, the changelings seem to have forgotten about one more thing.

“MMMGH MMMPPHFF!” Topaz starts thrashing violently as the goo covers him completely. Thankfully, it takes only few seconds during which his struggle gradually weakens until it stops completely.

“Ummm… miss Five did say they would be able to breathe, right?” asks a drone.

“According to the hive mind instructions, ponies can breathe easily during the forced sleep.”

“Aaaaand before they fall asleep?” a drone raises an eyebrow, eyes fixated on Topaz’s face stuck in a grimace of utter terror.

“Design error number two,” says the other drone.

“Agreed,” the infiltrator nods, “Let’s...” he ponders how to fix this while examining the hive mind pod blueprints from all angles, “Maybe we should fill them up to the neck, then let them fall asleep, and fill the rest afterwards. Yes, that sounds like the next step.”

As they watch Topaz whose features gradually turn from deathly horror into something way more peaceful, they notice that his breathing has turned slow and steady.

“Good, he’s not dead,” comments a drone, “Two would kill us.”

“Eventually,” the infiltrator nods.

“Soo… since it’s supposed to be for mares, how long do we keep him in there?”

The infiltrator frowns. Executive decisions are hard.

“Let’s stick to the planned hour, and see what happens.”

And so they wait for an hour. A patrolling warrior passes by twice, other drones are busy on the night shift to pay off the digger, the other infiltrator returns from evening hunting for love, and the second warrior is guarding Brauheim castle. All in all, it’s shaping up to be a peaceful night.

Time’s up, so one of the two drones walks up to the pod, taps its side, and the goo enveloping Topaz joins the now stronger membrane, pops, and drains into the thickening bedding, leaving the dwarf clean as a whistle. The drone can feel the newfound love coursing through the goo.

It worked!

Topaz sits up, takes a deep breath, blinks, stretches his legs, and scowls at the trio of changelings.

“I thought I was going to die!”

“Thank you very much for the honest feedback,” says the infiltrator politely, “We will have that sorted by the next test.”

“Ummm...” a drone walks closer to the dwarf climbing out of the pod, “Maybe we overdid it a little?”

“Overdid what?” Topaz looks at his forelegs and gasps.

In the faint green light of the glowing love gems illuminating the cave, his coat is practically shining.

“I look like a gay crystal pony!” Topaz starts tugging his long, smooth, and now somewhat fluffy beard, “The whole squad will be laughing at me a whole week!”

“Did we do something wrong?” the changelings exchange glances, “This is supposed to happen, right?”

“Maybe we really should have found a mare?” asks a drone.

“YES!” Topaz grabs a strand of his slightly longer mane than an hour ago before going completely pale and twisting his neck down to look between his hind legs, “Oh thank Thorgar’s hammer! No change there.”

“It’s not supposed to turn you into a mare,” the infiltrator shakes his head, “According to the information Five left us, certain kind of our goo promotes hair growth, body recovery, and health, so she thought we could offer that to non-changelings.”

That makes Topaz calm down further, enough for him to stretch again and nod.

“You know, drowning until I fell unconscious aside, I feel as if I’ve slept a whole night,” he drops and does few push-ups, “I’m not even aching from the evening guard training. Plus, I had such a pleasant and vivid dream. Two and I were… umm, nevermind.”

“That’s all part of the experience,” the infiltrator nods, “It’s hypnotic solution to have you fall into deep sleep which helps the body recover and it induces happy dreams. We used the warm and happy batch of goo, not the lewd and sexy adventure batch. Five warned us it would be a bad idea for first time users.”

“Wait, so this is some sort of a spa?” Topaz waves his foreleg towards the pod, realizing something way more important, “And you’re saying you can give me wet dreams in there?”

“Right now, we’ve got two goo recipes, one for inducing love and one for lust.”

“It felt so real...” Topaz breathes out. A moment later he shakes his head and clops his hooves together, “Alright, I think that if you deal with the choking to death aspect, I can find few dwarves to give that thing another test run. How about that?”

The changelings look at each other…

...and smile.

“Yessss! Up top!” the drones do a high one.

“Do you need anything else?” Topaz heads towards the exit, “If not, I think I’ve got few ideas what to do with the time I save by not sleeping. Can one of you lead me out of here? If you want more customers or visitors, you really should mark the way.”

One drone joins him without a word and begins leading him through the maze of tunnels.

Back in the spa cave, the remaining drone and the infiltrator stand in front of the pod, basking in the fresh love emanating from it.

“That’s a lot,” comments the drone, “If we could make more of these quickly and get more dwarves here, maybe nab a minotaur from the surface...”

The infiltrator grins widely.

“We might have enough love to work so hard that we could pay off the digger and do some real progress on the throne room!”

***

“Hey, wake up!” says a commanding voice which nonetheless drips with sexuality.

Six feels himself hit something soft. That’s enough for him to yawn, rub the bags under his eyes, ponder how they got there because he’s a changeling and not a pony, and look around.

He’s lying on a heart-shaped bed, it’s unpleasantly warm everywhere around, and in the distance he can hear faint screaming and groaning. Something did happen recently, but it’s all a blur, and he’s just so exhausted. The only thing he can recall clearly is that Seven is an idiot, his dizzy mind just can’t figure out why exactly.

Something grabs him under his forelegs, and pulls him upwards.

“Oh, now I remember...” Six curses inside the empty hive mind.

Six has seen enough minotaurs to understand how their body shape works, and to deduce that the pink mare… female… that’s holding him up with her hands could control entire clans with a simple jiggle of her voluptuous figure.

“Uh, hello?” Six waves his foreleg weakly.

“You will address me as your goddess, little changeling,” she presses him tightly into her bountiful, bare, and unbelievably soft breasts.

In the warm embrace of such magnificent pillows, Six yawns.

“So rude,” the succubus pouts, “But I know about your delicious, lust-devouring kind, and what you can do. Believe me, you will have lust to eat aplenty. You just need some training. When I’m done with you, you will be the perfect pet-”

At this point, the succubus realizes that Six is fast asleep, drooling into her cleavage, and snoring.

This has never happened to her before.

***

The morning is in full swing when the now visibly tired Hoof of Fate members, other than Bubbles of course, lead or in the case of Eleven carry the group of changelings into the Canterlot castle, which is significantly more guarded than when they left yesterday for some reason.

“I assume this is because of the attack on princess Luna,” Anvil frowns, eyeing the visible increase in security.

“If something happened to the boss, I’m gonna shove every single Royal Guard into Celestia’s ass one by one,” growls One inside the hive mind, “It might be just the suppressor, but I can’t sense him or Three anywhere.”

“I think I can feel Gem,” says Two, “but I can’t contact her with this damn thing on my horn.”

To mild surprise of everyone, the guards don’t pay the changelings much attention, and they can’t sense any hostility from the ponies, unlike when they escaped the prison.

Contradiction is walking in front, deeply in thought about how to progress. They need to keep the changelings restrained, and they need to inform Cromach. Putting them in prison again wouldn’t do any good, obviously. It would be way better to simply keep an eye on them in a public space. Like here, in the entry hallway of the castle. Servants and guards pass through often enough, so any conflict should get reported immediately.

“Bubbles, go find Cromach,” she orders, “We’ll wait here.”

The demonette gently lowers the Eleven sleeping on her back, and Connie scoops him to the bunch others she’s levitating above her.

“We need to contact the boss too,” says One, “These damn suppressors are a pain in the plot, really, and Eleven is out for the count.”

“Find king Beard as well,” adds Connie without turning her head. Bubbles shoots ahead, her sharp claws accidentally ripping the carpet of the hall.

“We could just wake Eleven up,” comments Two, “We have the love.”

“Let him rest. It doesn’t look like anyone is in any imminent danger, and Eleven has done more physical work in one go during the past day than at any point in his life. Let’s not use up any unnecessary love. It’s difficult to recharge here as is.”

They wait for some ten minutes, and to everyone’s suspicion, it’s not Cromach and boss coming to greet them, it’s Astray and Gem, both looking exhausted as well.

“Mom!” Gem rushes over and hugs One.

“Connie, take their suppressors off,” says Astray calmly, “Cromach’s orders.”

The carved steel rings float up from changeling horns, flooding their minds with information. A fraction of a second of shock is followed by horrible chill immediately creeping up One’s spine as she receives Gem’s knowledge of current events.

“What went wrong this time?” asks Connie.

“Princess Luna has been attacked-”

“Yeah, I know. Those little guys told us,” she gestures to the sleeping pile of Elevens, “Stopped us from beating the shit out of each other.”

“Did they also tell you about the attack on princess Cadance resulting in the death of a changeling paladin, and about Cromach and king Beard leaving together to hunt somepony called Magnus?”

The gears in Connie’s head stop...

...at about the same time as One finally processes Gem’s knowledge about Ten’s death.

“FUCK CELESTIA AND THIS ENTIRE CITY WITH A NUCLEAR DILDO COVERED IN SAW BLADES!” she screams, fully aware that most of the higher technological details of her swear will be lost on non-dwarves.

Several guards rush through the castle gate, and few more appear from nearby hallways shortly after.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Gem hangs her head low, “I was asleep when it happened so I couldn’t save him, and Ten wasn’t proficient enough with mental control to hide inside me on his own like miss Comfort did. I’m really sorry...”

“We’ll make them pay,” One resumes hugging Gem, “If these ponies and ‘specialists’ are so incompetent that they let this happen in their own home, we’ll find the culprits and teach them what happens if they mess with us. This is personal now!”

“What’s going on here?” asks one approaching guard. One transforms her hoof into claws, grabs him under his neck, and pulls him up to her height.

“Where is the solar-powered asscunt?” she growls at him.

“I- huh- wha-?” the guard just croaks.

“I do believe she is talking about me,” replies a motherly voice which everyone can recognize, “Although I don’t appreciate the choice of words.”

“Those are the only parts of you worth something!” One turns towards Celestia with a furious expression which nonetheless softens from surprise when she sees the alicorn approaching side by side with Chrysalis and Bubbles. That surprise only lasts for a heartbeat, though, because using Chrysalis to calm One down is like using a mentos and coke to ease indigestion, “Great… incompetence comes in stereo now.”

If either the alicorn or the changeling queen take this personally, they don’t let it show.

“Where did you send my king?” One bares her fangs at Celestia who only tilts her head before Astray clears his throat and looks at her.

“Sir Cromach took king Beard with him to look for the culprit responsible for the attacks, your Majesty. My orders were to protect miss Gem here in case Star Trail tried to kill her like he did with Three.”

“Come again?” Celestia rolls her eyes.

“I believe it would be a good idea to sit down and get everyone up to speed,” Astray looks around the room, “After everything that’s happened, we know that none of us here is responsible, and more than half of us are potential targets. Snapping at each other won’t help anything. Hmm?”

Gem nods and adds:

“We can talk about politics of using us to placate concerns of the other rulers later. Right now, boss and Three are gone with mister Cromach. Ten is dead, and Bright Star is resting in the castle infirmary. The good thing is that all of you are here and in one piece,” she glances Anvil’s way, “Mostly.”

Faced with Gem being the calm and collected one in this situation, One takes a deep breath to at least temporarily calm down.

I shouldn’t be the one in charge, I shouldn’t be the one in charge, I shouldn’t be the one in charge. I’m just a stupid warrior, Gem is a lot younger and she’s handling this correctly, or at least much better than me or Two.

“Lead the way,” says One in the end.

I am a warrior. My job is to know how to handle combat strategy, how to best utilize the strength of each unique fighter under me, not how to talk properly, how to balance fragile relationship on my back-

Hooold on a second, what was that part earlier?

To utilize each unique fighter in the best capacity. I’m being stupid about this again. It’s not just about battle, it’s about everything. I am a strategist, and all this is a battle for our survival against Star Trail and the world.

One smirks as her self-doubts shatter under her metaphorical stomping hooves. It’s all so clear now.

An hour or so of talking later, changelings, Silver Sun, and Celestia are sitting around a table, finally done with the full recap of events from all sides. At one point, Celestia disappeared and returned shortly after with the news that boss, Three, and Cromach weren’t at Zeph’s anymore, likely having left to pursue a completely wrong clue.

Eventually, there’s only the silence of everyone lost in thought.

“There are three things to deal with here which don’t have to be entirely related,” Two speaks up, “One - our representation on the summit without dad. Two - the attacks on royalty. Three - Star Trail.”

“According to the witnesses, Star Trail was working with the attacker,” Celestia corrects her.

“Afterwards,” Two shakes her head, “If we account for the original attack on princess Cadance in the Crystal Empire being part of this, then Star Trail got involved only after we got imprisoned. I think that just like you used us, princess, the… lich who killed Ten is using Star Trail. Let’s say the deal could be… if Star Trail protects the lich while he needs to focus on the divinity draining magic, the lich will help Star Trail kill us eventually. Considering that neither the Crystal Empire palace nor Canterlot castle are safe, I don’t like the prospect. Speaking of which-”

“How the actual fu- hole, is your security so shi- insufficient?” One finishes Two’s thought with some admirable restraint.

“An expert from the united orders of wizardry will be coming today to examine the castle wards for any flaws and possible lack of power. However, my assumption is that Star Trail, as an ex-paladin knows how to use magic within the castle walls. The Crystal palace is significantly less protected, since they’re still working on stripping the power of some stranger kinds of king Sombra’s magic.”

“During my preparations for the, ehm, invasion,” Chrysalis nods, “I had to catch several high-ranking Royal Guards in order to have them divulge the process of spellcasting in here. Of course, there weren’t any changeling wards around at the time, so it was rather easy.”

“Can I be frank, mom?” asks Two after hearing this.

“Yes?”

“They’re both completely discounting the original attack where Star Trail wasn’t involved. Either neither of them has any clue how this could have happened, or they’re both involved, and even I don’t believe the latter.”

“How do you explain the first attack on Novo inside this castle?” says One out loud straight up, “Star Trail wasn’t there.”

“Judging by Bright Star’s testimony, the lich was extremely powerful. That’s why we’re asking for an expert to examine the power levels of the wards today,” explains Celestia.

“Do we know enough about magic to see a hole in that?” asks One.

“No, I’m sorry,” Two sighs internally, “This is way above my level. Seven would know, theory of complex magic is exactly his cup of love.”

“Same here,” Gem chimes in, “I mean I could probably glean something from examining the wards, but nothing that a proper unicorn would miss.”

“I guess we’ll see how it goes,” replies One out loud, “I would also like to remain informed, since we’re a likely target.”

Celestia nods.

“And if you’re worried about the summit,” Chrysalis speaks up, “Most of the rulers already know me, so I can temporarily speak for you, if need be.”

“No, you stand for everything we don’t,” One shoots that idea down immediately, “Gem and I will be representing our hive.”

“You’re hereby promoted to the head diplomat, honey,” One informs Gem, “I’ll just be watching and correcting something if needed. Time for you to rise up from the supporting role. Your family needs you.”

“But I was just taking notes and advising dad until now,” objects Gem, uncertain.

“Honey, I realized something. I’m not a visionary like boss bug. I might not even be that good at figuring out a plan of getting through a war, and I certainly can’t properly perform any parts that don’t involve kicking plot. What I am good at is using limited resources in battle. You are my best diplomatic resource, I will be using you. Any objections?”

“No, mom.”

“Make me and dad proud, honey.”

“And what are we supposed to do, Astray?” asks Contradiction.

“We don’t have any direct orders,” says the satyr, “I mean I was supposed to be miss Gem’s bodyguard, but since everyone is back, I assume you’re back in charge until sir Cromach comes back.”

“Alright,” Connie nods, “We’ll take turns guarding other divine targets. Changelings will have to deal with the threat of Star Trail themselves. Of course, don’t be afraid to call on us if you need help,” she offers a foreleg to One who shakes it after a moment of hesitation.

“Good,” says One, “I might use Eleven for some instant communication within the castle. Right now, I think we all could use some rest before the next summit meeting starts. It wouldn’t be diplomatic to fall asleep during another argument between two windbags about regular shipments of corn while we’re being hunted down by an undead fanatic able to bypass any security.”

***

And so, the next day of the summit officially begins, leaving One more bored than usual, and Gem increasingly nervous as the delegates of various lands speak up. On one hole, there’s a set schedule for specific types of negotiations varying on daily basis, with some time to polish off previous day’s unfinished business. On the more boring hole, today’s topic is migration - limits, required documents, and anything else the bureaucrats can think of.

One yawns, her long and sharp teeth sending a wave of unease around the ballroom. Without the boss sitting by her side, a minotaur diplomat sitting next to her looks at her directly. She just whispers:

“Long night.”

That seems to placate the minotaur who replies with a knowing smirk:

“I know how you feel, queen. Long way from home, one has to pass time in this prudish city.”

“Certainly,” One admits to a night of debauchery that didn’t happen. She’d prefer if it did, but it didn’t. One sad.

Gem is busy making notes all the time, occasionally asking One about official Brauheim stances on various subjects she barely faintly recalls. At least until…

“I would want to propose a vote to disallow migration into and out of king Beard’s changeling territory in the face of trouble his kind caused during this summit already. We can’t be sure of their intentions,” a dragon diplomat raises his voice when it’s Gem’s turn to discuss things. Dragon Lord Ember sitting next to him and looking equally bored as One only glances his way.

“Good,” shrugs One in response, “We don’t want visitors anyway. Besides, it’s not as if most of you could survive more than a day or two in the frozen tundra between Rift and Crystal Empire.”

What happens next makes her realize that divulging the exact location of her hive was a bad idea, to say the least.

“As a representative of Stalliongrad, I hereby submit my official request for increased Royal Guard presence in our province, now that we know a hostile hive is close to us,” a white, blond-maned unicorn slams his hoof against the table.

“Yak no feel safe north. Yakyakistan refuse to continue any debate when besieged by changelings,” prince Rutherford stands up too.

“That was a long word for a concussed ball of fur,” comments One internally.

“As a member of the north guard of the great Griffon Empire, I must object to the possibility of changelings crossing to the Empire over the polar region-” a griffon diplomat pauses when Vargaz sitting next to him clears his throat and shakes his head, “Nevermind, I will discuss this further before rendering final judgement. Complaint withdrawn,” he sits back down.

“While we agree with the olive branch offered by her Highness Celestia,” a pony with long blue coat and heavy accent adds his two bits, “in light of the recent attacks inside this castle, Vanhoover would like to register a formal complaint, and also request increased Royal Guard presence.”

“We didn’t do anything!” Gem raises her voice.

“Likely story!” the Stalliongrad representative glares at her.

“ENOUGH!” It’s Darkhorn himself who slams his fist into the table this time, and when a minotaur fists a table, it stays fisted. The warlord stands up, and looks at Celestia, “May I have a word?”

“Me first, warlord,” the solar princess clears her throat, “Let me clear something up. Neither king Beard nor his changelings are behind any of the attacks, and before you start more conspiracy theories, same goes for queen Chrysalis. It turns out that one of the attackers was an ex-paladin, which explains how they got into the castle. We have an expert on magical protections examining the castle grounds as we speak,” Celestia looks at everyone in the suddenly quiet ballroom, and then nods to Darkhorn, “The floor is yours, warlord.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” the minotaur smiles at her, but his smile fades as soon as he lays his eyes on the Stalliongrad representative, “The united tribes in Rift reside the closest to king Beard’s hive, and we haven’t had any problems with them during our two years of contact. Of course, to be completely honest with you, we have noted several infiltration attempts, but our observation always showed those were only temporary and examinatory in essence. No minotaurs were harmed by the changelings. In fact, one of my best diplomats was saved by them, as well as them having been instrumental in quicker freeing of several mining crews from cave-ins. While I am a suspicious old minotaur, which means I will always advise keeping an eye on any intruders, the northern changelings have earned my gratitude. Considering our recent history, possibly more than Equestria itself. That is all,” Darkhorn sits down.

“I have to agree with the warlord in that respect,” a weak, strained voice grows louder along with princess Cadance rising up with the help of Shining Armor, “and I would like to reiterate that king Beard’s changelings have saved me and my husband from a similar attack to the one which occurred in this castle even before the summit started. I don’t know if your information services brought this up with you, but the attacker targeted us again tonight, and king Beard’s changeling paladin died in the line of duty whine protecting me,” she’s shaking from exhaustion, but her voice grows steadier with each word. Chrysalis looks as if she wants to say something, but opts against it, “Yes, we might have had our misunderstandings, but I can attest to the friendly, albeit sometimes quick-to-act nature of the northern hive. And damn, if I of all ponies am standing on their side, then none of you have the right to question their motives. Maybe with the exception of the griffon delegates.”

“The Griffon Empire will reserve judgement on the northern hive for now. Our sources don’t consider them a hostile entity,” is all Vargaz says.

Those few words have weight, though. Most of the diplomats here know the history of the world, and if even the griffons aren’t certain whether or not to smite changelings with righteous fury, then there is something to think about.

“And I know most of you don’t care about my judgement,” Chrysalis chimes in, “But when I was evil and spiteful, these guys wanted nothing to do with me, so there’s your sanity check for them.”

“...a changeling defending changelings, what a shocker...” mumbles the Stalliongrad representative.

“If I may say something?” Gem raises her hoof.

“Go on, miss Gem,” Celestia nods.

“My queen here was correct in saying that we don’t exactly want visitors, much less open migration to our territory. I also apologize for trying to keep our precise whereabouts secret until now, because due to our experiences with ponies we are equally as worried about you coming to us as you are about us coming to you.”

“Not really...” mumbles One in the hive mind, “Free food is free food.”

“Shush, mom.”

“In short, we have no intention of spreading around, we just want to explore the surface world,” Gem continues, “without the fear of a mob with torches and pitchforks. That’s all, really.”

“Thank you all for raising potential concerns and to you, miss Gem, for clearing them up,” Celestia speaks up again, “For now, I deny the Vanhoover and Stalliongrad requests for additional forces, but I will send several seasoned unicorns to teach your guards to spot changelings better including the use of magic developed after the invasion of Canterlot. I, of course, cannot single-hoovedly deny the migration request of the dragon and yak delegations, but I would ask you to take what princess Cadance and warlord Darkhorn said to heart.”

“Neat, sunny buns finally realizes she fu- messed up,” One raises an eyebrow, “I declare this an official changeling holiday.”

“I’m just happy everyone is talking among themselves again. I’m not used to so many eyes on me,” Gem lets out a quiet sigh of relief as the diplomats resume negotiations.

“Don’t get too comfy,” says One, “Do you really think Celestia’s unicorn wizard will figure something out to protect the castle?”

“Yes? I mean, now that they know about Star Trail’s access and the enemy being a lich, they’re adding some further undead detection.”

“Point one - I’ll be damned if this is the first time Sunbutt has to deal with undead attacking her castle. That, at least to me, means the castle already had magical protections and they were useless. Point two… nope, that’s about it. We’re the only ones able to resist the sleeping spell, and there are a few of divine targets still around. From what I figured out, Luna hasn’t been drained completely, and her bat guards are leagues above the Royal Guard numbskulls. We need to take things into our hooves if we want to prevent the next attack.”

“You don’t think one successfully drained alicorn will be enough?”

“I might not be smart, Gem, but I’m paranoid like the best of the best,” One smirks and raises her mental voice, “Two, you heard all this, right?”

“I totally wasn’t eavesdropping, but I heard everything,” admits Two, “What do you need me to do, mom?”

“I must sit here like an idiot, and so does Gem, although with much less vacant staring and drooling. That means you, Cryo, and Eleven will provide some ‘added security’ in secret. You will figure a way to keep an eye on Celestia whether she wants it or not.”

“Wait, I’m supposed to use CRYO for a stealth mission?” Two facehoofs.

“Hello, I heard my name,” the ancient queen in question joins the hive mind conversation.

“Good, there’s nothing wrong with your ears, both of you,” says One, “HOW you use Cryo is up to you, Two, I just want to prevent the inevitable attack on Celestia or Luna. Eleven and Cryo are your resources, and you are a better infiltrator than I am. Do it.”

“Yes, mom.”

One sighs in the real world. The board is set, time for the pieces to figure out how to do what they’re told.

One doesn’t understand the point of chess, she just likes the part where a pawn can change into anything eventually.

***

As One’s hive link cuts off, Two sits up in her bed, fully awake.

“Okay, okay, okay...” she jumps off, starting to pace back and forth, “Protect Celestia… how do we do that? I could make Cryo stand in front of her door. If she falls asleep, no one is moving her out of the way. The thing is… judging by their previous attacks, they aren’t moving around the castle. The just teleport where they want to. So if they attack- no, when they attack her, they will get directly into her room at night while using a mass sleep spell. That means we need a way to keep an eye on her first,” she rubs her chin, and mentally calls out, “Eleven, get three- no, four of you over here.”

Four sleepy little changelings enter Two’s guest room a moment later.

“What do you need, miss Two?” asks Eleven, “And why only four? Being this separated feels a little weird.”

“All eleven would be too noticeable and clumsy. I’ll need the others for something else anyway. How far away can you control your bodies?”

“Umm… I think I can split up around the castle. Maybe a little bit outside,” Eleven looks down on the floor, “I’ll try to practice more.”

“You’ll get enough real world experience right now. Celestia is attending the summit. I need you to get into her room and stay hidden there.”

Eleven nods.

“What if she finds me?”

“I expect either her or the guards to find you. What we must do is avoid them finding all of you. One, you’re small and not threatening, so the guards won’t get violent when they find you. Two, you’ve already been seen climbing around the castle before the attack on Novo, which was used to blame us and proved wrong. That gives you the ability to do that again without too much suspicion. Three, I think I know where I triggered the changeling alarms during my first scouting, and my best guess is that those are set up on doors and windows. Besides, if the alarms were on whole rooms, they would be incredibly distracting to any unicorns on watch during any private meeting. Seven taught me how those work. Four, if the attackers use the sleep spell again, your bodies will have to stay awake using the hive mind screaming trick and alarm us. And finally, you can turn invisible.”

That’s step one.

“So you want me to get four of me inside through the outside window, turn invisible, and let at most two of me get caught to assure the guards that they found everything.”

“Exactly. I’ll help you get inside. You focus on climbing, I’ll open the window.”

Soon, five invisible changelings are around the window of princess Celestia’s suite, four hanging from two decorative unicorn head busts, and one hovering in the air, transforming her hoof into knife-thin talons in order to unlatch the window from the outside. Not even two minutes later, the window clicks, and Elevens jump inside.

Two guards, a unicorn and a pegasus, rush inside the suite, eyes narrowed and spears ready. Their careful examination reveals one visible Eleven staring at them with both forelegs raised above his head and a scared expression. The expected second sweep reveals another Eleven faking surprise after sniffing some sweet-smelling bottle in the bathroom.

With two sheepish Elevens now being led away by a different pair of guards, and the two original ones resuming their watch by the princess’ door, two remaining invisible Elevens hide away safely, not touching or examining anything in case of more alarms.

Step two.

“Eleven, leave two bodies with Cryo, and send the rest to one of our empty rooms,” orders Two.

“What’s going on? Why are mini-beards leaving?” Cryo looks around as she feels the pile of bodies on the straining bed around her stand up without a noise and leave.

“You can have two for communication, or to juggle them if you want. I need the rest,” replies Two.

“You heard little beard,” Two hears Cryo speak to Eleven, “Hop on.”

“Wheeeee!” Eleven’s dizzy voices join the chorus of the hive mind.

Two didn’t mean it literally, but as long as they don’t get hurt, it’s okay. And why is it that juggling is the only thing where Cryo’s hoof-eye coordination is on point?

“Okay, now I need four of you. Each one will find one of those Silver Sun specialists and STAY with them at all times. If they need to sleep, turn invisible.”

“Umm, miss Two?”

“Yes?”

“I… I can’t split up and shapeshift this much… I think.”

“Alright,” Two isn’t going to argue or overtax Eleven, “Keep the ones in Celestia’s suite invisible, the rest can stay normal. Now go and find them. Nothing suspicious, just ask around. Tell them you’ll be with them in case we need to communicate. You can practice control without rushing right now, use the time.”

“Yes, miss,” Eleven’s voice is weak, “I feel dizzy...”

“Now, leave the rest of your bodies in the room and focus on the ones you’re using. That should make things a little easier.”

“Y-s, m--m,” Eleven only mumbles now. Better to let him focus on himself.

Two closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. It is rough on Eleven, but he’s her best asset right now. Unfortunately, the rough part for her comes now. Nightguards crawling all over infirmary or not, she has to keep an eye on Luna as well. After all, Cadance was attacked twice, which means someone might want to finish Luna off.

“Cryo?”

“Yes? My juggling balls fell asleep.”

“Good, let him rest until you need him. I’ve got a mission for you.”

“The frozen hive stands firm!”

“I’ll take that as agreement,” Two smirks. You can never be sure with Cryo, but her heart is in the right place, even if her mind takes trips beyond the borders of time and space, “I need you to find the guards now leading two Elevens from Celestia’s suite, and bring them back on the pile without harming anyone. Be diplomatic.”

Loud thudding from the hall outside signals that Cryo has rushed off. That means it’s time for Two to do her part.

Luna…

Turning invisible again, Two heads off to the infirmary, only to find a curious lack of guards, night or otherwise. She does find still unconscious Bright Star, fluffs his pillow, and leaves.

So, either something terrible happened without anyone noticing, or the lunar princess returned to her own suite.

Royal Guards are standing at attention on the top floor of the castle, dimmer than the rest even during the day. While it does cement Two’s idea that Luna is back at her place, it also makes approach from the front impossible. A quick check of the outside windows reveals heavy, black curtains completely blocking all daylight from getting in. The good part is that Luna is most likely asleep, the bad part is that Two can’t see inside at all.

“Eleven? The one in Celestia’s suite?” whispers Two, flying up on the roof.

“Miss Two?” Eleven’s voice is clearer again as he’s getting used to controlling his bodies in situations in which they have vastly different directions.

“Tell me, is there a fireplace in there?”

“Yes, there is. Do you need me to do anything with it?”

“No. Just stay hidden and alert.”

Up on the roof, Two finds the chimney most likely corresponding to Luna’s place. Hopefully, the castle is built at least somewhat evenly. She doesn’t dare turn into a bird, a bug, or anything equally vulnerable, so a moment later there’s a hoof-sized, invisible changeling floating down a black tunnel smelling of burned wood.

Thankfully, it’s another scorching summer day, so the fireplace isn’t lit, and even in the pitch darkness of the room, Two can see an alicorn-sized body in a big bed, its chest slowly and regularly rising up and down. It seems her intrusion went unnoticed, which makes her smirk to herself, but also curse the lack of security of this place yet again. Transforming into her full-size invisible self not to burn love on maintaining the imbalance of her mass, she silently moves into the corner of the room, and sits down.

All they have to do now is wait and remain watchful.

The darkness of Luna’s bedroom feels oppressive. Even her changeling eyes can’t make out much other than the faintest lines, and Two soon realizes she can’t hear anything from the outside. Soon, Luna’s breathing becomes her only connection to reality.

It’s just a silence spell, otherwise the princess of the night would never get a good day’s sleep.

*Clip clop.*

Hoofsteps... behind her?

Wait, her back was against the wall just a second ago. Why can’t she feel the stones anymore?

Two turns her head, and realizes she’s looking into the infinite blackness, only occasionally dotted with bright lights of distant stars.

“Eleven, can you hear me?” she reaches out with her mind, and finds nothing. No open connection, no distant but familiar presence of minds going about their business, nothing. She’s completely alone.

Okay, this is magic. What did Seven teach me about magic? Infinite space hints either at pocket dimension, or an illusion. Illusions not specifically crafted for changelings don’t work on changelings due to the hive connections. There wasn’t any pocket dimension during the attack on Novo, was there?

As if materializing from the blackness itself, a tall, slender figure walks forward. An alicorn taller than Luna, pitch black with bright blue mane dotted with sparkles… like blue midday sky, but with stars overlaid over it. She isn’t wearing anything which would identify her as some sort of secret guard, only a smooth, blue helmet and a decorative chest piece of the same color bearing a small ornament of the moon. The alicorn looks down at Two, and bares her sharp teeth.

Tall, black, no robe. Not an undead, though. Any asshole ex-paladin around? No.

“What are you doing here, little changeling?” asks the alicorn in a booming, haughty tone lower than princess Luna’s voice.

“Keeping an eye on princess Luna in case of another attacker, which I think includes you!” Two sees no reason to lie, if only to measure the intruder’s reaction.

“And what makes you think you’d be able to stop me?” the alicorn chuckles.

“Nothing, really,” Two shrugs carelessly, “Not exactly the p-”

Without finishing the sentence, Two sends a bolt of lightning straight at the alicorn’s nose while teleporting backwards to Luna’s bed.

“Princess, I’m gonna need you to wake up ASAP!” she kicks backwards to shove Luna or the bed...

...which isn’t there.

“What?” Two is alone in empty blackness. Then, right in front of her, bright white eyes open, look straight into hers, and-

Two finds herself gasping for breath in the corner of Luna’s room now slightly lit by the window curtains cracked open. The lunar princess is standing over her, staring right at her despite her invisibility.

“Two, was it?” asks Luna. When Two nods, she continues, “What brings you here?”

“I… I...”

“Take a moment to breathe first,” Luna puts a hoof on Two’s head.

“One sent me to keep an eye on you. She doesn’t believe upgrading the castle magical protection is going to help, and we’ve proved resistant to the castle-wide sleep spell already.”

Luna’s eyes are staring directly into her soul. After a moment, the princess smiles and ruffles Two’s short mane.

“Truth, but not the whole truth. I suppose that’s the nature of your secretive kind.”

Two takes a deep breath, bites her lip, and takes a huge risk.

“We’re also keeping an eye on princess Celestia, just in case. Eleven is good at hiding.”

“Eleven… ah, that strange mind controlling many bodies.”

“Yeah, eleven of them.”

“I… see. A fitting name then. Now tell me, what can you do to protect me when you got scared by a little nightmare?” Luna chuckles.

“That was your doing?” Two leans backwards, finally opting to drop her useless invisible disguise, “But… I heard you were weak from the attack, and this was… this was absolute control over reality. Seven said magic like that was near impossible.”

“Last time, I was attacked outside on watch where I must rely on my personal protections or the castle’s. In here, in my room… things are vastly different. Even as exhausted as I am, I could take the attackers head on again. As for magic… these days I am number two in the world, and I intend to keep my position until young Twilight grows up.”

“That’s the purple alicorn, right? Small, nervous, smells of parchment and dust.”

“Indeed. When did you have time to see her?”

“She was here the first day before the summit. I haven’t seen her since.”

“I see. You are an observant one.”

“I’m not too strong nor too magical, so the best advice I got early on in my life was that if I can’t win a fight, I have to make sure it doesn’t happen in the first place.”

“Very useful advice.”

“Speaking of useful advice,” Two nods to the bed, “I’m sorry I woke you up, but you should go to bed again. Mom- One thinks another attack is inevitable, and since most of what I can do is not fall asleep like everyone, and call for help, I would like someone well-rested within reach. I’ll just hide here in the corner again if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t, actually. However, there’s one more thing I want to show you,” Luna points at a full-body mirror on the opposite wall, “That mirror is connected with one in my sister’s suite. Going through it won’t trip any alarms. Use it if you need to get there or to help get my sister here in case of trouble.”

“Thank you,” Two turns invisible again, and sits down into her corner again, carefully poking the wall behind her first.

“No, thank you. If you need to wake me up, just call out.”

“Will do, your Highness.”

“Luna will suffice, Two.”

“Will do, Luna,” Two salutes as the blue princess curls up under her blanket again.

“Hey, mom,” Two reports via the hive link, sending her and Eleven’s locations on the castle map, “Look where Eleven and I are!”

Back in the ballroom, One’s eyes bulge at the completely unprecedented success.

“What the fu- hole?!”

***

Day four of the summit.

One takes a deep breath, and enters the ballroom where yet another late morning mingler is taking place. Negotiations will resume later in the afternoon, so this is just an informal and much less populated event for everyone to have a little more private conversations. Sort of a brunch, really.

There are only a few diplomats around, and the mood feels fairly relaxed, at least until she enters. Most of the eyes in the room lock on her at least for few seconds as the guests gradually notice her, and while several gazes are downright hostile, most are either indifferent or curious.

“I’m not sure if being here benefits us in any way,” Gem, walking by her side, ponders the situation.

“We’re here to be seen,” replies One, “To create the image that we aren’t some monsters hiding in the shadows. I think that in light of what happened since the summit started, it would be a good idea to just relax.”

“Being seen?” snickers Gem, “Well that won’t be difficult, will it now?”

In the real world, she looks to the second looming shadow following One.

“I am the BEST at being visible,” agrees Cryo.

“Then let’s clear our heads and take it easy. We handled things well yesterday. No need to push anything right now,” One conjures up a semi-genuine relieved smile, nods at Celestia currently eating a slice of cake whose spoon waves back, and the three changelings split up.

Sadly, Eleven couldn’t make it. The separation is taking a lot out of him, but he did reassure One that he’s getting better, and that he should be able to properly send another body out soon. As for the two Elevens who got caught inside Celestia’s quarters yesterday, they were sent back with only a warning to stop exploring private rooms. Celestia was obviously doubtful about it being just Eleven’s fun trip, but she examined her suite personally and didn’t find anything suspicious, so she didn’t push it. Of course, that did require one Eleven to hide inside the toilet and the other one to crawl into the fireplace, but they did manage to remain unnoticed, which was quite a feat.

After some time, Gem finds herself being cautiously observed by someone. Pretending to examine a particularly delicate canape gives her cover to figure out why her instincts are warning her, and finds the griffon leader wearing only an unofficial white shirt for once watching her. As a very experienced infiltrator, Gem has to appreciate his subtlety, but there’s difference between being trained to be a spy, and being literally born to be one.

Of course, a changeling being carefully watched by a griffon isn’t a surprising thing by any measure, but Gem can’t sense hostility from him, mostly just curiosity.

Vargaz, the griffon spymaster. Should I ignore or confront him?

Allowing herself a smirk, she decides to listen to the few genes she got after her mother, and sits down on a chair next to Vargaz.

“I couldn’t help noticing you staring at me,” she says in a friendly tone.

“And here was me thinking I was being inconspicuous,” the immeasurably tiny moment of surprise in Vargaz may as well be a signed admission for someone like Gem. However, the griffon recovers instantly, and smiles back at her, “I might take this as a sign that I’m too old for this whole diplomacy thing.”

“Now now, don’t fault yourself for losing a contest against the best of the best,” Gem takes a sip of something bubbly smelling faintly of wine, “Still, I’m curious what piqued your interest specifically in myself. My general experience with griffons is that if one is looking at me for too long, they’re aiming.”

“Yes, the mistrust between our races,” Vargaz sips his drink too, “That’s not something several years and a written proclamation can fix. Although after the few days here I’m certainly regretting I don’t have anyone like you in my ranks, miss Gem.”

“I am no one special. In fact, the diplomatic duties fell to me only because boss had to leave, and One isn’t overly comfortable in this kind of setting.”

Vargaz’s smile only grows.

“If I lost a spying contest with no one special who also claimed to be the best of the best, then I should truly be horrified by the capabilities of your hive.”

Gem realizes she screwed up.

“I can assure you that our intentions are to be left alone, mostly. We’re new, we’re slowly getting used to business contacts plus all this diplomacy stuff, and close scrutiny like this isn’t exactly comfortable.”

“I understand you completely,” Vargaz nods, “ I know how it feels to work from the shadows for the good of the country, or hive in your case,” he looks around, and lowers his voice, “Which is why I would like to talk to you in private at some point.”

“What about?” Gem raises an eyebrow.

“A little followup to the migration discussion from yesterday. I would like to employ someone of your caliber,” he raises his talon when Gem opens her mouth to object, “I don’t mean you specifically, if that is a problem. However, I have a lot of influence within the Empire, and I can offer you a lot of information as well as easing access to the changelings who might want to live in the Empire. Surely, there must be some of your kind curious enough to take up my offer in the same way they did for princess Celestia and her paladins. My condolences about your unfortunate loss.”

What to do?

Decline? Promise something I can’t? And that mention of Ten was an entirely unnecessary attempt at a power move.

So… play his game better than him?

“Oh my,” Gem chuckles, putting a hoof over her mouth in a gesture of innocence, “You are quite confident that you aren’t employing one of us already, are you? As they say, overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer, dear spymaster. However, when my king returns, I will present your idea to him to make our involvement official. I don’t mind the idea of a private meeting, though. It’s difficult enough getting some love under these circumstances already. I promise I don’t bite,” with a courteous bow of her head, Gem finishes her glass, and leaves somewhat stunned Vargaz alone.

Cryo doesn’t feel at home here, especially without Two to keep her company, but she understands that it’s important to keep up the appearance of power and that’s why One needs her attendance. On the other hole, she’s quickly running out of things to pretend to care about. On hole number three, there are sausages, and this time she knows about their devious nature. She carefully pulls at one on top of the stack on a corner table, the only one with meat products on it, since processed flesh of semi-sentient species makes ponies of all kinds understandably wary.

The sausage is tied to the next as expected. This time, though, Cryo is ready, and licks its bottom. The partly acidic saliva does away with the string, but the queen didn’t account for the size of her tongue, which means that along with it, half of the sausage is gone… as well as part of the next one.

She drops the gooey and still melting end of the sausage rope, or whatever its called, back on the pile where it starts melting everything around. In horror, she looks at the blue-ish goop making its way down through the hissing pile of meat. Cryo’s eye twitches. With a quiet growl at the meat not behaving the way it’s supposed to, the queen decides on drastic measures. In a way, this is all she wanted all along.

With a quick look around to see if anyone important is looking straight at her, Cryo grabs the whole pile of sausages, and stuffs it in her mouth, leaving only a silver tray with some of her spittle harmless to metal.

However, her deed doesn’t remain unnoticed.

“Yak no eat meat, but yak like to see mare with appetite!” says a cheerful voice from below.

“Mmmmphmh?!” Cryo looks down at the hairy, brown blob that’s prince Rutherford.

“Changeling no rush, Rutherford want appreciate big, strong mare.”

“Mhmmph?” Cryo points at herself, her mental processes stuck at the moment.

“The strong and silent type? Yak like. Of course yak mean you, big, beautiful lady of few words.”

Cryo tries to smile, and a sausage slips out, hanging by an unmelted string stuck between her teeth.

“Yak want apologize, yak wrong about changeling threat.”

Cryo nods vigorously, the stuck sausage flies off, she tries to catch it with one leg, misses, and punts the sausage into the ceiling where it bounces off, and impales itself on a random Royal Guard’s spear.

“Mmmmmm...” Cryo lets out a depressed groan.

“Big ling no worry,” Rutherford taps on her hoof with his, “Yak often break things and look silly. Yak proud of it, though. Smashing things yak tradition!”

Cryo breathes out in relief, which wheezes through the sausage blockage. Diplomatic accident averted successfully. Rutherford looks up into her slightly crossed eyes, and after some hesitation adds:

“Yak also want smash strong ling lady.”

Cryo makes the mistake of breathing in to scream “WHAT?!”, which only makes the pile of sausages go the wrong way, and the queen starts choking. Of course, as a warrior, she’s way experienced with losing vital organs, and on instinct a blow hole opens in her back. She still can’t speak, but at least she won’t choke to death.

Rutherford, however, mistakes her inability to react for hesitation, and smacks his face with his foreleg.

“Yak apologize! Of course even a strong ling mare is delicate flower and need romance first,” Rutherford sits down, takes Cryo’s foreleg into his own, and grunts when trying to push it up. Seeing him struggle, Cryo raises it herself, currently blue-screening on the inside completely, “Follow yak! Yak show proper courting.”

Cryo shrugs, finally deciphering the situation and feeling in way more familiar depth. She was a little hungry after all that’s happened.

The only remaining question is how to finally swallow these damn sausages.

***

The two Elevens in Celestia’s suite haven’t moved for hours, which isn’t the most comfortable thing for a changeling used to either sleeping or running around with a bunch of bodies. Still, considering the protective carapace, changelings are naturally resistant to sleeping legs and other problems the squishies have.

Shortly after getting inside, Eleven sent one body to look around and examine the layout of the place. The suite consists of two rooms - the bedroom slash living room and the bathroom. For complete oversight, one Eleven climbed on a wardrobe in the bedroom, and the other one sat down in the corner of the bathroom.

Eleven’s ears perk up when the door opens and princess Celestia comes in. It’s early afternoon at most, so the big daily meeting can’t have started yet. The princess drops all her decorative jewellery unceremoniously on the floor, although she does take care to put her light dress away into the wardrobe on which Eleven is lying, his head hanging down over the edge. If this was, let’s say, Ten, this could be considered creepy, but Eleven watching Celestia’s every step is more like a curious ceiling lamp.

Celestia lies down on the bed, rubs her temples, and closes her eyes.

“At least everypony was civil today...” she mutters, “Every time, this reminds me how much I prefer bickering of my own nobles during day court. At least those ponies can’t mess things up too much.”

She turns on her belly, buries her head between the pillows, and in few minutes, Eleven can hear her breathing slow down. Her nap lasts for some half an hour, after which she sits up, stretches, and heads off to the bathroom. The other Eleven holds his breath, but when the princess doesn’t show any signs of noticing him, he resumes his observation. She steps into the circular bathtub, and turns on the shower built into the ceiling.

Being the well-behaved changeling Eleven is, he covers his eyes. Being completely see-through, that doesn’t help. Decency fights his sense of duty and loses. In the end, Eleven decides to keep watching the soaping-up princess now, and feel bad about it later. Maybe apologizing once all this is over will help? Maybe.

Close to an hour later, a maid arrives with a tray of food, and leaves it on a table by the door. Once Celestia is finally finished with her shower, not waiting to dry but simply glowing with warm light for few seconds, and then walking back to the main room with steam still rising from her. Seeing that her pre-summit snack has arrived, Celestia digs in.

At that point, bedroom Eleven starts feeling a little weird. It takes him a short while to figure out why, before he notices that the hive links inside his head are strangely weak, everyone is quiet, and even his other bodies are difficult to sense, other than the bathroom Eleven, that is.

“Miss One?” Eleven cries out to the empty hive mind, “Boss? Two? Anyone?”

“-ven… El-en… -‘s -ing on?” Two’s mental voice is barely audible.

“EVERYTHING IS WEIRD, I CAN’T SENSE ANYONE!” he yells back.

“Sta- put!” Two’s voice grows even fainter, “-right -re. I’ll just-” it fades completely.

“Miss Two? MISS TWO?!” Eleven gives it one more shot, and receives no answer.

He blinks, and when he opens his eyes, the walls of the suite are gone, revealing only a flat, grey plane stretching to infinity. Chill runs down his spine when he sees Celestia standing at attention, gold light forming a plate armor around her, and a halo above her head. Thankfully for Eleven’s already freaked out state of mind, she’s not looking at him. What does make him bite his hoof to stifle a whimper is the approach of two figures, one wearing a now familiar robe and one… Eleven tilts his head in confusion.

The pony must be Star Trail, undead like before, although Eleven is struggling to understand the proper descriptive terms without access to hive mind. The ex-paladin is bigger, almost as tall as the lich, and broader, although his greying coat is criss-crossed with scars and patches of hair. Contrary to expectations, there isn’t any sign that Ten had cleaved him in half before. Even his horn is patched with a piece of blue crystal screwed to the bone with bronze, harness-like construction. On his back hangs a long, unremarkable sword with angular symbols carved into the blade. Eleven thinks he’d seen something similar before, but can’t put a hoof on where.

Celestia doesn’t wait, and charges at them like a comet, her abrupt stop in front of Star Trail sending out a golden shockwave which makes him back off.

“Miss Two! The baddies are here, the princess is fighting!” Eleven strains his mental power to reach someone. Only silence answers his call. He wants to help, but his orders are to stay put. On top of that… is there really anything he can do in such situation?

The lich teleports a short distance away behind Star Trail, and red wisps of light swirl around his horn, gradually gaining strength. Nothing happens yet, though.

Out of nowhere, a halberd appears above Celestia, already hacking at Star Trail while she aims her horn at him, and lets out a beam of burning light. Star Trail’s sword flies up in response to block the halberd, taking the heavy, magic-fueled blow and vibrating for no reason apparent to Eleven. He manages to avoid the beam of light as well by lowering and twisting his strangely flexible neck in an angle no one should survive.

Celestia apparently expected a lot, but not Star Trail opening his mouth full of sharp, non-pony teeth, and biting her neck straight above her magical platemail. She stumbles backwards, and a simple burst of light makes the wound disappear. Curiously, Star Trail isn’t pressing his momentary advantage, instead opting for a swing with his sword easily avoidable by a simple step backwards. What hits Celestia instead is a black beam sticking to her horn and connecting her to the lich. It seems completely ethereal, not hindering the movement of either of the two.

The princess growls, suspicious that this is a much more complex version of the divinity draining spell the lich won’t need to focus so hard on. Unfortunately for her, the new Star Trail is in the way and too strong to just ignore.

For now...

The lich doesn’t understand who he’s playing with.

***

“Eleven, ELEVEN!” Two, sitting inside Luna’s suite, tries to break through the wall of silence when the little voice dissipates. She curses to herself, “Head Eleven!”

“I feel super weird, miss Two...” even Eleven’s voice conveys his dizzy uncertainty, “Ughhh...”

“Focus!” she raises her voice, jumping up and rushing to Luna’s bed, “Eleven, listen. Tell your bodies, or however it works with you, to get those Silver Sun ponies to Celestia’s suite. I think she’s being attacked right now.”

“I’ll… I’ll try...” whimpers Eleven, cold creeping through his mind as if he was bleeding out from an artery after the loss of a limb.

Two doesn’t push him further. She knows he will do his best. The question is - what can she do?

She shakes sleeping Luna who groggily opens her eyes.

“W-What’s going-? No...” Luna breathes out, realizing why Two must be waking her up.

“Yes, I lost contact with Eleven keeping an eye on your sister. Something might be up.”

“Mom, I need you here!” Two calls out again when Luna closes her eyes to focus.

“Trouble?” replies One instantly, and unlike during Two’s communication with Eleven, the time stops inside the hive mind.

“Possibly. Elevens guarding Celestia are out of reach. I called on the Silver Sun guys, and I’m going in with Luna in a second.”

“Through the front door?”

“No, Luna has a secret passage through the mirror which leads to her sister’s suite. Use that if front entrance doesn’t work or leads elsewhere. Just walks through it.”

“I’ll be there in few seconds,” says One.

“Should I come too?” asks Gem.

“No,” orders One, “I don’t know where we’ll end up. Take care of Eleven, and if it takes too long, deal with the summit. Cryo is resisting my mental contact, which is the first time-”

“I’m busy right now. Yak diplomacy,” Cryo replies quickly, and disconnects.

“-and she might not be required. If we group up, we’ll have two alicorns, Two, me, and those Silver Sun guys who, even I must admit, are no pushovers. You cover the diplomatic side of the issue, I’ll do the punching.”

At this point, One is running up to the third floor already, and Two’s hive link disappears.

***

As Two follows Luna into the mirror, it’s as if a switch flipped in her mind, blocking her access to One and others, and allowing her to feel the fear of two Elevens lost on this side of reality. She can immediately see, invisibility or not, that one Eleven is on top of a wardrobe, his lip quivering and eyes watering as soon as he notices Two enter.

“Twooooooooooooooo!” it’s a little strange hearing Eleven whom she heard only a moment before sound as if she was gone for years.

“Stay where you are, both of you!” barks Two, “Help is on the way.”

Luna, wearing her real purple armor, materializes by Star Trail’s side, and the blade of her halberd bites into his side. Small tendrils of fleshy mass sprout from the wound and grab the weapon which Luna rips out with a meaty squelch.

“A flesh-crafted revenant,” she spits on the floor, “And to think you used to be a paladin.”

“The usurper and traitor DARES SPEAK TO ME?!” Star Trail’s defensive style of combat when facing only Celestia changes completely as the crystal tip of his horn flares, and his flying sword attacks in a flurry of powerful blows Luna has to block.

Celestia takes the moment of respite to rush past him at the lich. The ground shifts under her hooves, forming a pit which the princess simply wants to jump over. About halfway there, though, wall forms out of nowhere, giving Celestia barely a fraction of a second to cross her forelegs before ramming straight into it and dropping like a rock.

Following that, a column of gold and pink fire from above makes the lich look up and conjure up a blue barrier to protect himself. He teleports, still scanning the strange, black sky which despite hosting no sun or light source makes everyone inside this pocket dimension clearly visible. Soon, his horn flashes, and a hail of icicles bursting from the ground aims up to hit a bird made or fire who deftly dodges between them, giving Celestia time to get out of the hole, seemingly fighting against some powerful pull.

Luna is on the defensive. Star Trail hasn’t stopped his onslaught for even a second to catch a breath, and outside of her suite she once again feels exhausted from the original attack. A small ball of fire lands on Star Trail who wants to shake it off. It stays on him, revealing itself to be Two raising both her forelegs and bashing Star Trail over the head repeatedly.

She doesn’t expect the pony to turn his head one-eighty degrees and begin snapping his jaws at her. She is faster, and dodges few bites, but that forces her off of his back. Thanking her mother’s warrior heritage, she notices Star Trail’s hind leg about to kick her, and successfully twists mid-air to avoid it.

That gives Luna the moment she needed. The butt of her halberd hits Star Trail’s new horn. There isn’t enough strength behind that blow to shatter the crystal or knock the bronze harness off, but it weakens his grip on the flying sword, and finally allows Luna a proper strike.

Star Trail rushes at her like bull seeing blood, and Luna realizes too late he is way faster than last time. The impact sends her tumbling backwards, and Star Trail rears above her, about to stomp her to paste. Suddenly, he loses balance, and his stomp breaks the floor next to Luna. Behind Star Trail, Two kicks his severed hind fetlock away, and does her lightning bolt teleport away this time as his sword cleaves the air where she was.

Star Trail’s telekinesis brings the chopped off limb to him, and the flesh on his leg knits together, rejoining the fetlock to his leg. Star Trail laughs at her.

“Try again, bug!”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’d love to hear you repeat that when One gets here,” mutters Two. Louder, she calls out ot Luna, “Where the hole is everyone?!”

“Time moves differently in pocket dimensions!” the princess is back on all fours, flourishing her weapon, “The more Philomena and Celestia occupy the lich, the less he can focus on making this place work in the way he wants. Just don’t give up, they’re coming!”

Star Trail faces Luna.

“There will be nothing of you to find when I’m done-”

His head leaves his body mid-sentence.

“DYNAMIC ENTRYYYYYYY, MOTHERFUCKERS!” screams One, then she looks at Star Trail’s skull impaled on her hoof, and crushes it underneath, “Ewww, I stepped into someone.”

***

Anvil pushes against the door leading to Celestia’s suite. Her muscles bulge, fighting against the clearly unlocked but immobile door, and in the end she has to give up. Contradiction, standing by her side, tries as well, but to her telekinesis it’s as if the door wasn’t even there, and blasting a hole in the entire castle doesn’t seem like a good idea.

“Hey, Eleven, you said your guys were coming too, right?” Astray pats the back of the limp changeling he’s carrying.

“Went in… already...” mumbles Eleven.

“How? The door is stuck.”

Part of Eleven’s numbness can be attributed to him having to parse last few seconds of everyone’s hive memories and keeping himself from, he doesn’t exactly know what’s going on but the best term would be… fragmenting, maybe?

“Moon princess… mirror,” he clutches his head.

“Luna’s suite!” says Astray, and rushes down the hallway to the stairs without looking back, knowing that the others will be right behind him.

Luna’s room isn’t locked, thankfully, although Connie can feel several alarms going off.

“Can’t.. go...” Eleven whimpers, “My head… heads...”

They each put their Eleven on the big bed, Anvil touches the glass of the mirror, and disappears. Bubbles jumps in instantly after her.

***

Star Trail’s sword practically vibrating with magic slashes at One from behind as his headless body jumps backwards, ethereal image of his head forming on top of the hole in his neck. However, when fighting a changeling like One, rules of surprise don’t work like with ponies. Sparks fly as she blocks the sword with her foreleg glowing green with love. Star Trail tries to retract the sword, but One’s reaction as she transforms her hoof into claws and grabs the sword by its edge makes even the undead gasp.

One drags the sword down and stops on it, breaking it in half.

“You...” Star Trail growls, his eyes darting from a hole in space opening and the incoming Silver Sun members to One.

“An enemy who doesn’t die when I go full out?” One’s mouth spreads in a completely insane grin, “Is it my hatchday?”

Star Trail wasn’t able to deal with Two’s semi-magical speed before, and he sure as hell can’t even track One’s movements as her claws dig into his neck and rip it in half. Of course, that doesn’t exactly stop him, which only serves to spur One laughing like mad to smash and rip chunks off of him further.

Two breathes out, and stumbles over to Luna now watching the butchery.

“You know… had we met in our old castle with her like this, history could have been vastly different,” the princess shudders.

“Mom’s tons stronger than she used to be from the stories I heard,” Two chuckles.

The lich has noticed that his front line protection is currently being literally torn to pieces as well, and growls.

A black rift seemingly absorbing all light even in this unnatural landscape opens mid-air, letting in slithering shadow creatures Connie recognizes instantly from Manehattan. Within a second, there are three already here, and more are pushing through with each breath.

“Cover me,” says Luna quickly to Two, “We need to stop this before it gets out of hoof,” without waiting for an answer, she sits down, cross-legged, and closes her eyes.

Two shadows fly up and grind against each other until they disappear. Connie’s horn flashes as she grabs another one and simply twists it. It vanishes as well.

“Good, they’re exactly the same things we fought in the pocket dimension in Manehattan,” she says, “Standard tactic, fan out and push them back to the rift!”

Astray pulls out a pistol, and starts shooting while pushing forward. Bubbles jumps at the nearest shadow and bites its head off. Anvil measures the influx of enemies, grabs her mace, and punts one back into the rift like a golf ball where it slams into a bunch more trying to push through.

Celestia feels her divinity leave her through the link between her and the lich. He’s clearly using the power he stole from Cadance to rob her of her own, but he is new to this, that is clear. While Cadance has the potential to grow into one of the most powerful alicorns in existence, she’s nowhere there yet, and with Celestia’s power finally decreasing to levels manageable by this world, just like One, she can, metaphorically, stretch her wings.

Normally, the alicorn of the Sun going full out even for several seconds would turn Canterlot to ashes. Now all that diminished power has only one target. Her eyes turn into painful white like the center of the sun, Philomena stops occupying the lich who now has the opportunity to focus on Celestia fully and realize his mistake.

A beam of scorching heat instantly turning the air into plasma blasts the lich who has to mobilize all Cadance’s power and his own knowledge of magic to conjure a barrier able to stop it.

The area distorts and the air wobbles as the pocket dimension’s stability lowers drastically. While that means a step towards the freedom of everyone inside, it also means more rifts opening everywhere.

Connie is now grinding shadows by the dozens while Anvil swings her mace in wild abandon, crushing several with each swing. However, as the artificial world around them gradually shatters, it’s only a matter of time until they’re unable to destroy the shadows fast enough.

“This is why we really need to hire a proper unicorn maaaaaaaaaaaage!” screams the mare in frustration.

A pulse of deafening silence cuts her off. Luna is standing on all fours again above Two exhausted from protecting her, pointing her horn at rifts one by one and making them close.

“The pocket dimension is mine now, just give me few more seconds to fix the holes,” she announces.

One skewers two shadows at once with Star Trail’s ripped off leg, only grinning as the now fully ethereal ex-paladin can’t do anything but watch.

And finally, Celestia’s beam of raw fusion shatters the lich’s barrier where, however, it hits some sort of a prism. For a fraction of a second, everything around burns, forcing Celestia to stop her divine attack in fear of incinerating everyone in the vicinity, although it does clear the area of shadows rather well.

A white rift opens behind the lich.

“Noyoudon’t!” undead or not, he has no reaction time for One. As he steps through, One flies right behind him. Connie telekinetically propels herself like a bullet, flying through as well. Bubbles, being the fastest remaining creature here manages to jump through the wobbling portal as well. Finally, Astray, as the one originally closest to the lich due to trying to flank him and shoot him from behind, runs through. In the next instant, everything is white and freezing.

Seeing her teammates disappear, Anvil runs and jumps as well, but only hits the floor and rolls as the portal closes in front of her.

“DAMN IT!” the minotaur curses.

And then the surrounding darkness fades, all remaining shadows disappear, and everyone finds themselves in now rather crowded Celestia’s bedroom.

Two sobbing little Elevens turn visible, one crashing into Two and sending them both tumbling, and the other one suddenly hanging around Luna’s neck, all four legs clamped around it.

Through the now unstuck door, Royal Guards rush in and point spears at the remaining changelings who are quite obviously the least threatening creatures in the room.

Two sighs. This is only going to cause more rumors and make the summit even more difficult.

***

“We heard what happened!” the representative from Stalliongrad stomps towards Gem who rubs her temples. As Celestia walks into the ballroom, he immediately turns around and kneels, kiss-ass that he is, “Are you okay, your Highness?”

The summit meeting, postponed due to the attack, was about to finally start, and just as expected, some of the guards witnessing the scene must have blabbed. Gem arrived first to put her papers in order and re-read the more pressing dwarf material offers now that she would be alone here, and as such had the misfortune to see the burning stares of everyone entering one by one.

“I am just fine, representative,” says Celestia with a warm smile which Gem easily categorizes as completely fake and revealing how much the princess dislikes this particular unicorn, “Thank you for asking.”

“And you,” he turns back to Gem, “How are we supposed to believe your changelings aren’t involved when you are present during everything terrible that threatens this peace summit?”

“Maybe because I was there and I know that king Beard’s changelings did their best to save me from the attackers?” Celestia raises her voice to drown out the whispering of the dimploats all around.

“Your Highness, I don’t mean to question your wisdom, but this could all just be a changeling ruse just like in the Castle of Two Sisters years ago!”

“And how did you hear about that, representative?” Celestia lowers her head to look him straight in the eyes.

“I-” his outrage falters when he can physically feel the heat now emanating from Celestia, “One… one of my staff told me that he heard a rumor- everypony knows!” he yelps, looking around. In general, the diplomats nod.

“I see,” Celestia takes a deep breath, “Then-”

“Yak no believe changeling evil!” prince Rutherford’s loud voice interrupts Celestia, drawing surprised glances at his one-eighty since earlier, “Changeling strong and protective of territory, but changeling not scheming or evil. Beard changelings, yak mean. Yak cannot speak for Badlands changelings and Chrysalis.”

“We certainly are scheming, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say evil anymore, as my gracious hosts know,” Chrysalis joins the conversation, “And while I don’t exactly agree with king Beard’s… management style, I believe you ponies would find his approach much more agreeable than mine.”

“Weird,” Gem mutters into the hive mind, knowing that everyone tapped into her as soon as they registered the raised voices, “I expected Chrysalis to speak up, if only because ponies attacking us would be a problem for her too, but such vehement defense from Rutherford all of a sudden, especially after yesterday?”

And that’s when Two, attuned to Cryo’s mind barely readable by anyone else, senses a strange mix of embarrassment and pride from the ancient queen.

“What did you do?” she whispers privately to her, attempting to hide the conversation from Gem, at least for now.

“I, umm, think beard loaf likes big, strong, and mature mares… and boss beard didn’t let us eat properly since we arrived… and little glowing lunch box is gone too. Did I make trouble for drug beard?”

“Leave this to me,” Two giggles to herself, resting in her room. She raises her hive mind voice for Gem to hear, “Hey, Gem? You wanna know why yaks are on our side?”

“Now that mom and dad are who knows where, I need to know EVERYTHING!” Gem is trying to keep it together, although things are a lot calmer now with all the support shown for boss’ hive.

“Then it’s like this - Cryo fucked prince Rutherford.”

The stack of spare note papers under Gem’s hoof bursts into flames.

***

Vargaz breathes out, looking at the night sky. While the ruler summit has been eventful to say the least, in essence what happened was rather simple - likely non-political assassins wanted to kill or harm royalty and possibly blame it on the changelings. Ponies… they wouldn’t last a month in Griffon Empire politics where an assassination attempt was considered a greeting and a sign that you’re still relevant and doing something right.

Contrary to his image of this “all-powerful” shadowy figure ruling the Griffon Empire, he genuinely likes spending time in Equestria. The country is strangely innocent in its way, and peaceful moments like this one, as he’s sitting in the silence of the Canterlot castle garden maze, are always a rare and pleasant surprise.

The question is, should he get involved in the investigation of the attacks, or should his agents remain only as observers? Considering how much magic has been involved until now, the latter would be a better choice, at least until he gets a better idea of the situation.

A spike of sharp pain from his neck almost paralyzes him, and only gets worse as he looks down and sees a black hoof with a blade jutting from it buried in his neck. The hoof digs deeper, and then slashes his neck open, drenching the ground and the griffon leader in blood. As his vision grows darker, he doesn’t reach for his neck, but rather to a strange dagger on his belt.

Vargaz breathes out, looking at the night sky. While the ruler summit has been eventful to say the least, in essence what happened was rather simple - likely non-political assassins wanted to kill or harm royalty and possibly blame it on the changelings. Ponies… they wouldn’t last a month in Griffon Empire politics where an assassination attempt was considered a greeting and a sign that you’re still relevant and doing something right.

He grins, and counts under his breath.

“Two… one...”

He jumps forward just as something misses his neck by a hair, already pulling out a rapier sheathed on his belt. Turning around, he sees…

...an undisguised changeling with blades on his or her… probably her forelegs.

She vaults over the bench he was resting on, slashing at him wildly. Vargaz immediately knows she’s faster and more agile than him, and by a lot. Still, a rapier is a weapon for a skilled fighter who wants to waste as little energy and time on attacks as possible, and a flurry of quick stabs from him forces the changeling to back off.

Call for help or not? It would either summon a horde of other changelings, or the guards.

Sometimes, one can’t know until they try.

“GUARDS! GUARDS!” he calls out.

The changeling uses that breath and heartbeat to get closer and slash at him with her leg blades again while standing upright on her hind legs. This time Vargaz dodges by taking a step forward and headbutting the smaller creature straight up.

She learns fast. Not trying the same maneuver twice was a good idea. I suppose it’s time to stop playing around then. She’s dangerous.

With a lunge, Vargaz stabs at the stumbling changeling’s eye, but misjudges the height as she quickly drops to her knees-

With a lunge, Vargaz stabs at the stumbling changeling’s eye, perfectly predicting her dodge downwards, ramming the sharp blade straight through the blue orb and into her skull.

He pulls his sword out of the dead changeling, and wipes the gunk on the green wall of the hedge maze.

Few seconds later, he can see griffons, pegasi, and batponies landing around him, few rushing forward to examine the corpse.

“Dead,” one of the examiners says flatly.

Would bother me if she wasn’t, although you can’t count anything out with changelings.

A different changeling lands in the clearing, greeted by spears aimed at… him? Yes, him.

He looks at the dead body with surprise, furrows his brows for a second which Vargaz recognizes as an attempt at their hive mind communication thing.

“This is- was queen Chrysalis’ number Four,” says the changeling, “She wants to see you,” he looks at Vargaz who still isn’t experienced enough to read changeling expressions. It’s the damn segmented chitin, “And congratulate you that you are still alive.”

10: Giant step sideways

View Online

Stone floor normally illuminated only by everpresent light of no apparent source flashes as flames burst out in a large circle, draw a pentagram, and when their flare dies out, it leaves behind three equine figures, one huge and two smaller.

In the cacophony of screeching, squawking, and roaring following the summoning portal opening and closing, Five reaches at blinding speed inside her beard, and pulls out a shotgun with her newly clawed forelegs for better grip, rearing on her hind legs, and turning around to assay the loud threats.

*Click click!*

Seven is significantly less calm, immediately darting between Stompy’s legs to gain some physical protection in addition to him quickly casting several instant personal shielding spells to buy him time to focus on weaving stronger magic able to make this place a safe bastion.

Stompy casually turns his head while two small panels on his shoulders slide back, revealing the barrels of twin particle beams, and several slots all over his barrel shift, ready to greet any enemies with flamethrowers or set up energy barriers. His scanners reveal the presence of dozens of lifeforms all around even before he has the time to visibly “look around”. His analysis of he situation is instant, and even he has to admit to a certain degree of confusion.

“A zoo?” Five aims the double-barelled shotgun at one of many obviously very secure cages with various animals scattered around, who have gone silent after the first outburst of noise, and are now observing the food- I mean the visiting trio.

The place where they ended up doesn’t look like the land of fire and brimstone Five was expecting. In short, there are no sexy demons of any gender around, the whole area looks like a cavern lit by something invisible, full of cages with various mythical animals, and overall gloomy.

“Okay, where is Six, and where are the succubi, Seven?” she growls at the other changeling, “Analyze quickly before I start using you to test if all the weapons I brought with me still work.”

“Look, I did the reverse summoning spell correctly,” Seven walks out from under Stompy, and looks at a weird white chicken with red eyes in the nearest cage glaring at him for some reason. He requites the furious stare for a moment, then shrugs, and turns away. The chicken’s beak drops, and it turns around, sulking, “We are in Tartarus, but when you summon a succubus to your location, it’s different than the other way around. You can’t banish them to a particular place, rather where they came from. So the ritual I figured out didn’t bring us to the succubus who has Six, but somewhere where the succubi live.”

“In a zoo...” Five rolls her eyes.

“No, look, you dummy,” Seven sighs, pointing to a tall, black, double-winged door set in the side of the cavern near them. It doesn’t look openable whatsoever, and possesses no locking mechanism other than a rather small, perfectly circular hole at about head-height, “I think we’re right at the entrance to Tartarus, or right past it to be exact.”

“Good, so now we know how to get out,” Five nods towards a tunnel with stairs leading down on the other side of the cavern, “I’m going to assume we have to go that way, so let’s not waste time.”

“Let me interject,” says Stompy who has been spending time performing scans on the huge gate, “That gateway is not our way out. My scans show it’s a combination of magic, divinity, and natural phenomena related to the collision of dimensions. We don’t have the capability to break out, at least physically. The amount of energy required to melt through the door due to the partial absorption into the void is also out of the realm of possibility. There is a specific way to open this door, likely related to that hole, and we don’t know it.”

“Care to explain at least some of that in a way I could understand it?” Five scratches her head, “Other than the ‘we are not getting through no matter what’ part, I mean.”

“Let me, before she concludes that I’m useless, and that feeding me to those animals would be too funny to pass,” says Seven, and his voice takes on a lecturing tone, “You see, our dimension, or a plane of reality consists of what you can see - this planet and many more, the space between those, but also some particular pocket dimensions.”

“So our reality, or dimension, consists from more dimensions, or realities… what?” Five tilts her head.

“Pocket dimensions, that’s the differentiating thing. I know it’s an unfortunate name for the phenomenon, but I didn’t make it up. They are like mini-realities with their own rules set either by their creators or by the most powerful beings inside, but they are still within our plane of reality, because they are created by beings from our reality who cannot reach into other ones. Even the gods can only act as gods within the reality where they originated from, not anywhere else.”

“Oookay. I can’t say I understand why things are the way they are, but I’m getting the idea what you mean,” Fine nods.

“Good, because I really can’t answer the why right now,” Seven continues, “So, our Tartarus is a pocket dimension tied to our reality.”

“Hold up. What do you mean by our Tartarus?”

“Alternate realities, or parallel dimensions,” Seven sighs, “There are many kinds of realities, some with completely different laws of physics resulting in completely different versions of life and existence, but some are similar enough to result in nearly the same events. To illustrate, there is a reality in which the two of us still existed, I still got Six lost, and you shot me immediately. That would be a parallel reality, with its own version of Tartarus and other pocket dimensions.”

“So in some reality I did shoot you. Go alternate reality me!” cheers Five.

“Yeah, great...” Seven rolls his eyes, “So, now that you understand what a reality or a dimension is, you need to understand what the void is.”

“Something empty?” Five takes her best guess.

“Yes and no,” Seven smiles, “It’s called void because those who discovered it didn’t understand what it was. You see, I’ve been going through old dwarf texts, and they had ways to measure the… let’s say stability of reality. Stompy doesn’t have the knowledge to explain the theory, but as you can see, he has the measuring tools built in.”

“Get to the point, please. My head is starting to hurt, and we’re wasting time, I feel,” says Five.

“I’ll be quick then, since this is more an interesting research topic than something genuinely helpful,” Seven nods, “There is something between the realities, something with rules so vastly different that it can’t be considered a reality itself, and that’s the void. However, unlike what the name suggests, it’s far from empty. The thing is that, since the presumed rules of the place are so different, all experiments I read about in old dark priest archives in actually getting there ended up with the destruction of everything sent through the open rifts.”

“So we can’t go there even if we wanted. Good. How does that relate to our situation?” Five raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you can imagine the connections between the main reality and the created pocket dimension as tunnels through the ‘empty’,” Seven does hoof air-quotes, “void, which applies pressure on them, squeezes them you might say. Void also has this effect of absorbing energy ‘nearby’. Damn, we’re getting to a place where language of the uneducated grows insufficient,” Seven sighs, “Look, simply put, if you wanted to, let’s say, use an energy beam to burn through that gate, almost all of the energy would dissipate into the void because the door is an entrance to an extremely small tunnel between dimensions. Like if you wanted to pour hot water through a very thin metal tube lying in the snow. Most of the heat would dissipate before you reached the end. That’s why you can’t just destroy the door. And you can’t physically open it, because the pressure of void against this reality is keeping it physically shut like, hmm, opening a trap door under a cave-in, right? My guess is that unlocking the door properly uses some energy source to open a tunnel into the main reality in the same way summoning and banishing via magic does.”

“You know, this is fascinating in a way,” admits Five, her anger at Seven slowly, very slowly dissipating. That’s what too much smarts does to you, Seven just knows too much, which only means he can’t focus entirely on what he’s supposed to do. That’s not a problem for warriors. They just beat up who they’re supposed to, “and I do want to know more, or at least listen to you as a background noise, but for now we need to find Six, who is somewhere around, and we can’t get out through the gate. That’s what I know. What about the animals?” she points at the cages with most of the strange creatures just watching them or slowly falling asleep again after the intrusion woke them up.

“I have literally zero idea what those are supposed to be,” Seven shakes his head.

“Then let’s go deeper. I can’t leave Six in the hooves and hands of those demon sluts for too long. He’s mine!” frowns Five, shoving the shotgun into her fake beard, pulling out a hoof-held pistol, and silently heading towards the stairs down.

Seven’s infiltrator instincts kick in as well, and he shapeshifts his hooves for silent walking. Of course, after several steps he realizes how pointless that was, since-

*Thud thud thud thud!*

-Stompy is with them.

“My sensors are picking up steps from downstairs heading this way,” whispers Stompy as they reach the stairwell.

“Hide!” hisses Five. Hive mind communication would be useful here, but unfortunately the loudest member of their trio who would need it the most can’t connect anyway.

Five quickly points to the cavern walls by the mouth of the tunnel, and hides out of sight of anyone coming up. On the other side, Stompy and Seven do the same. Whoever is coming won’t know about them until they walk into the cavern, upon which they’ll be ripe for an ambush.

As the heavy steps draw closer, the trio prepare to unleash physical, magical, and technological death, and are primed for the first and likely final warning shot to anything smaller than a building. Five, mentally ready to give Seven the order which would translate to Stompy’s action as well, hesitates, though, as a grey creature the size and shape of two minotaurs put together passes by, not giving them a single glance. What stops Five from ordering its immediate annihilation is that the doubtlessly demonic being is wearing a set of grey overalls, holding a broom in one hand and a large bucket in the other, and smoking a cigarette.

There’s a name tag on his overalls, and it reads “Janitor”.

Five clears her throat. While the violent approach is the first thing on her mind like the good warrior that she is, she also isn’t One.

The demon janitor gasps, drops the bucket, and turns around, clearly far more surprised than the trio of intruders.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be here!” he rumbles, clutching his… well, probably heart.

“You gonna snitch?” Five pulls out a rocket launcher from Three’s cheat beard.

Whether the demon recognizes the weapon, or even that it is a weapon is unclear, but he backs off, and grabs his bucket.

“Not my job...” he mutters, and shrugs, “I just clean the animal mess,” he points a clawed thumb towards the many, many cages.

“Say...” Seven speaks up, “We are in Tartarus, right?”

“Hmm?” the janitor scratches his head, “Yeah. Lemme guess, you got here on accident, did you?”

“No, we’re looking for someone,” replies Seven truthfully.

“I am going to feed you to the first thing I see, you idiot! Why are you telling him that?” Five snarls mentally.

“There’s no one up here, really,” the demon shrugs, “Just the animals, and the occasional special prisoners shown for all others sent here to see,” he looks at the empty but brighter lit cage set on a raised dais near the center of the huge cavern, “As you can see, there’s no one like that here right now. If you’re looking for the souls, they’re down on the Promenade.”

“The Promenade? It’s our first time here,” says Seven, which makes Five audibly grind her teeth.

“Oh yeah, that’s the level below us,” the janitor turns around, walks over to the nearest cage, which contains some sort of snake-goat-tiger hybrid, and starts examining its surroundings, “You don’t mind if I work while we chat, right? I don’t get much company that can talk up here.”

“No problem at all,” replies Seven, and the janitor starts sweeping the various kinds of waste around the cages, “So, about that Promenade place...”

“You see, Tartarus is like… a prison, a resting place for departed souls, and a home for various demons at the same time. Where are you guys from anyway? I don’t recognize tiny horsebugs like you.”

“Equestria, technically,” says Seven. The janitor scratches his head.

“Eh, can’t say I know the place. I’m more partial to worlds where intelligent creatures have two hands and two legs, no offense.”

“None taken. But if you don’t mind, we really need to find our friend fast, and I think some succubus has him.”

“Oh, than you don’t want the Promenade, but the Pit,” the janitor shakes his head, “And that’s a looong way to go for you, since you aren’t, you know, local. First, you need to go down to the Promenade where the recently dead souls kinda ‘live’ until they’re ready to disappear. It’s a big city in a way, a mix of various afterlives. The Promenade is surrounded by the Silent Circle...” the demon shudders.

“Sounds ominous,” comments Five, finally coming to terms with the idea of not evaporating the demon with copious amounts of firepower.

“Yeah… the Silent Circle is filled with the worst and the most powerful criminals whose souls and powers have been separated from their local versions of bodies. Technically, it’s the safest place in Tartarus, but it still gives me the creeps,” he shudders again, “Aaanyway, you need to pass through to the lower circles where we demons live, and that’s where you real critters are in the most trouble since, you know, you can get eaten pretty quick, and unlike us you don’t just reappear back at home.”

“We know how to defend ourselves, but we really don’t want any sort of army on our backs,” says Five.

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” the janitor waves his huge hand, “Demons in the lower circles eat each other all the time. Like, back at the university I used to be the champion at lost soul dodgeball, explosions all over the place,” he flexes his biceps for Five who gives him an unimpressed look.

“Then how did you end up cleaning crap up here?”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he shrugs, “University degree isn’t what it used to be. I majored in soul whipping and flaying, but no one appreciates handiwork anymore. These days they have these grinder-like machines which just strip flesh off of you easy. I say, where’s the personal touch in that? The baddies need to know that while they’re being punished, someone cares and that they aren’t just a statistic.”

“Ahem,” Seven clears his throat to return back on topic, “Promenade, Silent Circle, lower circles, and then the succubi?”

“Nah, not yet,” the janitor starts scrubbing the stone floor around the first few cleaned cages, “The Citadel is next, with all the demon snobs. Don’t get me started on those,” he spits on the floor which leaves a charred spot. He sighs, and scrubs it harder, “But hey, there’s a portal to the Pit in the Citadel, and that’s where your succubi live and where your friend will be if they have him.”

“You know, I wasn’t expecting this, but… thanks?” Five walks over and offers a hoof to shake. The janitor many times her mass simply grabs her by her barrel with one hand, and rather gently shakes her.

“No problem, tiny horsebug. It’s nice having someone to talk to from time to time. Mostly, the prisoners just wail, threaten, or try to bribe me to let them out. Honestly, it’s better with just the animals here,” he pats the head of something dragon-ish which playfully snaps at his claws.

With that, our heroes still stunned by their first encounter descend the stairs to the next part of Tartarus - the Promenade.

***

The darkness of the oasis night means nothing to my eyes, and when a zebra bandit who regularly checks up on us sees me pretending to be asleep, Three lying on his back with his hind legs twitching, as well as still unconscious Cromach, and leaves, I immediately fire up my hive mind link. Contacting Three this close with this flimsy of a suppressor on my horn is easy.

“Wake up, Three!”

“Ready and not snoring anymore, boss!” he immediately responds, although his physical body remains sleeping and casually kicking.

“I’ve got a plan to get us out of here, but it’s a bit complicated, since Cromach is in no shape to walk. I’ll be on the lookout, so you get in my cage, and take my suppressor off. I’m not going to risk making noise trying to take it off myself.”

I also believe that not getting my brain fried would help me think my way out of this mess.

With the faintest green shimmer, Three transforms into a fly, buzzes into my cage, transforms back, and unscrews the suppressor off of my horn. Keeping him disguised as non-magical species was the right call.

“Now I need you to transform into me.”

In the next second, I’m looking into dark blue eyes I usually only see in the mirror.

“I meant the unicorn me me, not changeling me,” I correct Three’s transformation, and so quickly does he, “Good, now you’re going to pretend you’re me, and that you escaped into the desert because you were small enough to fit through the bars with enough effort. Got it?”

“Yes, boss! But there’s two of us now.”

“Not for long,” I grin, and put my memory to good use. Comfort, Gem, and even Two did their best impart their infiltration instincts on me. King or not, all my personal experiences were as a drone, so my skills were never as polished as theirs. However, the king part of me knows how to use skills of my subjects to augment my own. I call upon infiltrator recollection and analysis as I shapeshift into a snake and slither out of the cage. It takes love to balance out the loss of mass in comparison to my real body, which is why changelings simply don’t grow tons of muscles and keep them, but I have enough from my contact with Three. Enough to safely find the bandit leader’s well-lit and richly decorated tent, pass unseen by the slave chicks and mares chained outside apparently doing laundry as well as their best to ignore the moaning, grunting, and muffled crying from the inside.

While the inside of the tent is still a tent, it’s warm despite the desert night, and it could pass for my king quarters home in Brauheim. Real furniture is scattered around - wardrobes, a couch, a bed, rich carpeting, and an armchair over which the griffon bandit leader is currently bending a much smaller, crying, unicorn mare while twisting her horn and claiming her from the back.

“Yeah, take this, horn head! How is this for superior species, slave slut? Wha-?” despite his brutal, sexual fury, he notices me approaching. Or more exactly, he notices himself approaching, and opens his mouth to scream.

Now… there are several things I absolutely despise.

For obvious reasons, brutal tyrants abusing their subjects are in top three of those.

I grab his neck with one foreleg to stop his scream, and punch him with the other. Simple as that.

The crack leaves his head bent backwards, and I quietly let the dead griffon drop on the carpet. The slave mare whimpers as he slips out of her, and covers her face when I press my talons against her mouth.

“Shhh...” I pat her head, and give her a raised eyebrow until she starts reacting to the real world again, and nods, “Good,” I whisper, and let her go.

“W-Who-” she stutters, but shuts up when I put a single talon to my beak. Before I can say more, I hear commotion from the outside, and hiss, “We need to hide the body, now!”

I turn my head to find a good spot to hide the corpse of a rather big griffon. Luckily, the mare seems to know the spacious tent better than I do, and quickly opens one of the wardrobes which is filled with sheets and clothes. Spurred by adrenaline, I grab the griffon by the neck again, shove him under a neat stack of bedsheets, and close the wardrobe just in time as two of the big griffons who mercilessly shot the wounded bandits in the desert enter. I suppress my sudden rage telling me to chair them both. They will be useful for my plan.

“We heard something suspicious!” says one.

I glare at them, turn around, grab the unicorn mare’s horn, and firmly tug at it to make her move forward.

“I was teaching this pinhead her proper place under me. Get out, and if you interrupt me again, I’ll shoot you,” I growl, and slap the mare’s plot hard. She whimpers, stumbles, and tears burst out of her eyes which make it difficult to keep up my harsh appearance.

The griffons leave. Thankfully, it seems that I mimicked the behavior of the chief well enough. After waiting for few seconds, I lean down to the mare, and whisper:

“I’m really sorry, but I needed to make it look believable.”

She breathes out, looks up at me, wipes her eyes, and whispers back:

“Who are you?”

I raise my foreleg, and let my talons change into a black hoof with small indentations where my holes used to be in the old days of not enough love. Surprisingly enough, I can feel her relaxing with the realization that I’m a changeling. I smile, and point at the bed. She obediently follows me, and we lie down next to each other under the sheet.

“The bandits caught me and my friends, and they dragged us here in cages. They didn’t know I was a changeling,” I decide to keep Three’s identity secret for now just in case, “And you?”

“They caught me… I think two years ago, give or take. I was on a tourist trip through the Griffon Empire, but they raided our caravan, killed the guards, took the mares, and sold the stallions.”

“So the bandits know you, and you can move around the oasis freely, right?” I ask.

“Mhm, there isn’t anywhere to run. All slaves have their hind legs shackled, and there’s desert everywhere, so any escape is easy to track, and when they find you...” she covers her muzzle, and shivers.

“I’ll get everyone out,” I nod, “but I need information for that. Where are we, and what was the big plan the bandits had? You must have overheard something.”

“I don’t know, I’m just a slave. It was some sort of big raid on a small town nearby. They wanted to take the entire population away right under the noses of griffon soldiers.”

“Who would know more?”

“Those big guys. Crusher, Breaker, Ripper, and Disemboweler. They’re chief Karil’s oldest bodyguards.”

Those ‘names’ kill me a little on the inside. On the good hole, there’s a reasonable chance I’ll get to chair them a lot on the outside.

“Those aren’t real names, right?” I roll my eyes, “Speaking of which, what’s yours?”

“Silvershine, and of course they aren’t. It’s to keep other bandits and slaves in their place. Let me tell you, they might be nicknames, but they are earned. Those griffons are brutal and ruthless. Karil gave them the best slaves to play with, other than those whom he kept for himself, of course. Oh!” she perks up, ”Doctor Razim might know more too. He’s high on the ‘payroll’, because he keeps us in one piece. He’s not a bad guy, though. I was here when he got caught and tried to resist. Breaker and Crusher broke his legs in multiple places and ordered him to do what he was told.”

“Huh, I didn’t notice anything seriously wrong about his walking.”

“He’s a really good doctor. I think he used to be the head surgeon in some imperial hospital.”

“So he can be on our side if I have to fight at some point?”

“I… don’t think so. I don’t want to call him a coward, not after everything the bandits did to me and other slaves to ‘send a message’, but he doesn’t have the will to resist anymore… none of us do. I’m sorry,” she presses her head against her chest, curling up under the blanket.

“I understand,” I wrap my legs around her, and press her tighter against me, “All I need for now is your silence, okay?”

“Mhm. I won’t- ughh...” she suddenly rises up and looks around, “What’s that stench?”

I follow my nose to the wardrobe where we hid Karil’s corpse, and when I open it, a wave of acrid smell washes over me. As a changeling, I don’t particularly care, but Silvershine gags. The corpse relieved itself in the wardrobe, soiling the sheets and everything inside.

“We need to get rid of the body fast. This is risky,” I frown.

Silvershine rubs her chin, and then her expression brightens.

“We can roll him up in a carpet and then the sheets to cover the shape, and there are a bunch of stolen parfumes Karil had for his concubines. He loved playing out a fantasy of being some southern sheik. You can pretend it was a disobedient slave. It wouldn’t be the first one Karil choked to death.”

“Wouldn’t anyone notice that no slaves are missing?”

“The camp is fairly big, and most bandits will just be happy it wasn’t their slave who got killed. As long as only few bandits know somepony is dead, they shouldn’t pay too much attention or ask questions just in case Karil- you want a replacement.”

“I don’t have a better idea. Let’s-”

A bandit rushes inside, gasping for breath.

“Chief! The new prisoners- one of them escaped!” he chokes out, and gives Silvershine using the soiled sheets to cover the rolled carpet with Karil’s body.

I turn around, scowling.

“That little whorse shouldn’t have been running her mouth. Get her stinking body out of my tent.”

“She was my friend-” Silvershine’s whine is cut short by my rough slap.

“Clean this trash or you’re next, burn it! I can get enough ponies to fuck as roughly as I want, I don’t need you, pinhead. You need to please me to live, remember that.”

Leading the bandit outside, I ask:

“Which one escaped?”

“The colt, chief!”

“Send a search party around the oasis, he can’t have gone far. But just in case, let’s have a little chat with the other two,” I grin.

***

“I said it before, but I think it bears repeating,” says Five after some twenty minutes of walking through the Promenade, “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Three times already...” mumbles Seven.

“I am making extensive notes on the afterlife,” comments Stompy, “I am quite curious that if I get here in the usual way, will I look like a machine, or like the dwarf I presumably used to be?”

“Wait, are you starting to remember something?” asks Seven.

“No, I have scoured my data repositories in detail. There is nothing to find. However, in the absence of any research materials related to artificial intelligence I’m currently assuming all advanced machines possess the minds of pre-project dwarves,” replies Stompy calmly. Of course, he normally replies in his measured way, but past experiences did prove he isn’t an emotionless machine unless he needs to be.

“I really wasn’t expecting this...” Five breathes out, turning her head.

“Aaaand four,” Seven facehoofs.

“It looks like the central square of Brauheim during market season,” Five shakes her head.

Having attended the annual event twice despite his numerous objections, Seven has to admit that it indeed does. Simply put, the Promenade is a grid of wide streets filled with stores selling anything, tall houses, and most of all - crowds of creatures of various shapes and sizes, not all equine or minotaur-oid. For some strange reason, no matter what the creatures are, they often just appear or disappear with a blur.

“Yep, only if some dwarf’s uncle was a zebra-snake pony,” adds Seven.

“Hey, that’s a flame spider pony!” Five waves at the strange creature with the torso, neck, and head of a pony as well as a bunch of spider legs instead of the good old four, “Some pony actually banged a flame spider!”

The creature blurs and disappears.

“What, getting ideas?” Seven frowns, “And I think it was just someone afflicted with a curse or something.”

“No no no, I just...” Five sighs, “Look, Seven, I serve my hive. I will protect my hive no matter what, that’s the reason for my existence, and I’m happy with it. It’s just that the longer I stay down there, the more I understand Gem and her desire to travel. Seeing this place and all the strange creatures which I know exist somewhere out there just reminded me how boring life in Brauheim is, aside from the occasional new weapon to test.”

“Five,” to the warrior’s surprise, Seven nuzzles her neck, “Just tell the boss, trust me. He’ll let you go wherever you want and will wish you safe travel too. Hole, you can take Six with you.”

Five takes a deep breath.

“Right. We need to find him first. What did the janitor say - Silent Circle? We should ask ar- no… oh holes please no...” Five’s jaw drops, “You said this was the place for the recently dead, did you?”

“What? What’s wrong- oh no...” Seven realizes what Five must have sensed.

“I’m not sensing any relevant threat,” says Stompy.

“TEN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” screams Five via two newly opened hive links, one clearly Ten’s, and one accessible through him but unknown to both Five and Seven.

“Oh by Celestia’s sweet ass,” Ten’s voice sounds as surprised as Five’s, “What are you two doing here? Wait, what’s going on in Bauheim? Don’t tell me the city and the hive got attacked too...”

“What do you mean by TOO?!” Five’s panic only grows as she picks up the pace, and starts wildly pushing through the crowd, “WHAT’S GOING ON IN CANTERLOT? WHERE IS THE BOSS?”

“Be quiet, Five!” the force behind Ten’s calming tone stops Five in her tracks, much to the curious stares of some of the closest creatures, “Think about me, and just keep walking. I’m in a changeling corner cafe.”

Faced with orders, Five takes a deep breath, and instead of blindly rushing around, she resumes walking at brisk pace. Her surroundings suddenly change, and in the corner of her eye she spots a corner cafe with a banner above the entrance looking like a black leg with holes on a green background. Inside, there’s the familiar face of Ten sitting across the table from a huge male changeling. Not a collossal one like Cryo, but one as tall as One and broader whose chitin is covered in scars and cracks, and one of his eyes is milky white with a long scar crossing it.

Seven and Stompy are nowhere to be found, which doesn’t bother Five at all as she rushes inside.

“Talk!” she slams her hoof against the table.

“Sit down, Five,” says Ten, “Time moves differently down here, and screaming my brain out won’t help anything. I sensed Seven as well, where is he?”

The sudden burst of breaking furniture heralds the materialization of Stompy atop an unlucky wooden table. Seven appears shortly after, sitting on the fourth chair around the round table.

“It wasn’t easy explaining the method of travel to Stompy, but I think I did a good job,” says Seven, “Now, before I get a heart attack - why are you here, Ten, who is the big guy, and what the hole is going on in Canterlot?”

Ten takes a deep breath, and drums his hoof on the table.

“Remember the attack on Cadance in the Crystal castle?” he asks, and when the other two changelings nod, he continues, “The same thing keeps happening in Canterlot. The targets are alicorns and similar creatures as far as I know. Boss got involved, by which I mean he stopped several of the attacks due to our resistance to the sleep spell which has been used every single time, but he was always found on the scene of crime for obvious reasons.”

“Ponies think boss did it?!” Five slams her hoof against the table again. She calms down a little when Ten shakes his head.

“The royals don’t, but commoners and diplomats assume the worst, since boss is the only new member of the summit. The worse part is that, and you wouldn’t know but I assume you heard stories, Star Trail seems to have joined the lich who is behind the attacks. I destroyed him with the help of Bright Star, but the lich… he got me,” Ten lowers his head, “That’s why I’m here, and that’s why I’m asking why the two of you and the damn MECH are here too! I didn’t know that souls dying with an unfinished burden meant toasters that burned out before the bread was done.”

“Very amusing,” comments Stompy, “and my sincerest condolences, Ten. Thankfully, none of us are dead, and Brauheim is in no danger. However, due to a magical mishap involving Seven, demon entities called the succubi dragged Six into Tartarus.”

“Come on, Seven,” Ten facehoofs, “You really need to trust yourself more. There are mares who would do a changeling in a heartbeat, even one as shy as you-”

“I summoned one for SIX!” Seven raises his voice, “Because someone who was supposed to be doing the exact opposite was just adding to his stress.”

“Let me remind you that you broke a rare dwarven digger that our entire hive would have to be working off for weeks or months,” says Five coldly, and looks straight at Ten, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter how we got to this point. When I sensed you, I thought someone was killing us in that Canterlot place and that the boss was on the run again. Now that we know the situation is… if not good than at least not catastrophic, we need to focus on getting Sex back- I mean Six, SIX.”

“Nice save,” Ten snickers, “Well, if you need one last service from the hive members beyond the grave, we are happy to help. Right, Nine?” Ten winks at the big changeling who has been silent all this time.

“I was worried you wouldn’t say that,” says Nine in a deep voice that must have made mares melt in their time. Five examines him, and identifies him as a warrior, and surprisingly one quite likely weaker than herself. However, from what she can sense, he is physically vastly stronger and tougher than she is, so the old changeling rule of power still applies - she can temporarily outclass him by burning love by a lot, but without love enhancements, Nine is physically way above her. Somewhat similar comparison is between One and Cryo.

“Then we should get going. Time moves differently between Tartarus and the real world, but since Six is inside here, we’re still on a somewhat similar timescale. Any ideas where he could be?”

“Some demon janitor at the entrance told use we need to go through Silent Circle to find a portal to the lower circles,” says Five.

“Can’t we just teleport straight up to the succubi palace?” asks Seven, “I mean, the ‘thinking about place or an individual’ method of travel works well here.”

“Not if you don’t know what you’re targeting,” Ten shakes his head, “Silent Circle then… Nine?”

“Teleport on me,” he says simply, and disappears.

Nine’s guidance isn’t enough for Stompy, Seven, and Five, but Ten can easily get near him, and he’s a bright beacon for the other three.

When Five’s world stabilizes, she’s walking in heavy silence punctuated only by distant sounds of sobbing and wailing. The air deathly still, and everything around is grey - and everything means only apartment buildings with drawn curtains. There are no stores, no life like on the Promenade, nothing.

“This place creeps me out,” comments Seven quietly. Ten nods.

“Agreed. Funnily enough, it’s the safest place in all Tartarus. Souls burdened with immense amount of regret and pain they caused are here.”

“Wait,” Five suddenly furrows her brows, “How do you know so much, Ten? I mean, you can’t have been here for long, right? Boss left for Canterlot only few days ago.”

“As I said, time moves differently here,” Ten shakes his head, “And also, Celestia is the gatekeeper of Tartarus, so paladins have resources regarding the knowledge of this place. Unfortunately for you and Six, Promenade and the Silent Circle are about the only places I know. What about you, Nine?”

“Same,” rumbles the warrior, “Most demons and personal nightmares live in the lower circles. No reason to go there unless you’re looking for a scrap.”

“How do we find the portal the janitor talked about then?” asks Seven, “Do we have to ask around? I mean… can we even?”

“This level of Tartarus works for the souls. Silent Circle is a prison, but one possible to get into, just not back out if you are a prisoner, so I think that if we focus really hard and walk, we should eventually be able to find it… or be sent to it.”

“So, Nine… that’s a pretty high rank, right?” asks Five, eyeing the big changeling.

“It was my rank under the boss,” replies Nine, “It had no meaning regarding real power. Under Chrysalis, I was… I can’t even recall anymore, but no one special, just a random warrior. Miss One and miss Eight were the ranked members.”

“Comfort and One,” adds Ten by the way of explanation, “Eight is now One, since she kicked old One’s ass, and old One ascended to become a succubus.”

“Umm, if you don’t mind me asking this,” Nine raises the eyebrow over his working eye, “If you know a succubus, and it’s miss One on top of that, then why haven’t you asked her for help in getting you to Six?”

They all stop and look at one another.

One by one, they all facehoof. Yes, even Stompy.

***

“Three!”

“Yes, boss?”

“Some of the bandits saw you missing, and I’m coming to ‘interrogate you’. Play along.”

“Okay, boss!”

I grab the bars of transformed Three’s cage, and shake it. The griffon walking with me backs off, blinking. I must be stronger than Karil, but in this situation it will play right into my talons.

“Where did the colt go?” I growl at Three.

He points in a random direction.

“That way!”

“How did he get out?”

“I don’t know, it was dark-”

I rattle the cage again, cutting him off.

“DON’T LIE TO ME, PINHEAD!”

Three backs away.

“He was skinny enough, just needed to breathe out properly. Not my fault you can’t build a proper cage,” Three shrugs casually.

“Let me wring some proper info out of him, chief,” the bandit accompanying me cracks his talons.

Taking a loud and deep breath, I shake my head.

“No reason to lower his market value,” I say, “We’ll need all the money we can get with all the losses he and the griffon caused us. It’s not like the colt can get far through the desert without any gear. Grab few guys and check the area around the camp for tracks. AND I want someone stationed here at all times. I don’t want to lose these two as well, or I might have to find buyers for those responsible for this,” I hiss in his face.

I hear a sharp intake of breath signalling that my talking woke Cromach up. Let’s hope he doesn’t unwittingly ruin this. He looks around, and snarls:

“What did you do to the colt, swine?”

“Three, I need you to inform Cromach about what happened while he was unconscious, and tell him to stay put. You won’t have much time before your permanent guard arrives,” I inform Three.

“Will do, boss!”

“I was hoping you would tell me, big guy,” I smirk at Cromach, “So, where would a young colt like that run off?”

“If you did something to him, I’ll rip your head off once I don’t have as many holes as a chang- as one of those weird cheeses.”

“Save your threats for after we sell you. An arena fighter like you would fetch a proper sum. Oh, and don’t try anything. Who knows if I’m telling the truth about the colt escaping, right? Because if he didn’t, what you do might get him… punished,” I smile at Cromach who just glares daggers at me.

After that, I leave. Three will do his part. Now it’s up to me to figure out how to plan the next step. I wish I could just fight my way out, but Cromach won’t be in the best shape in time, and Three isn’t exactly bulletproof either.

As I enter my tent, Silvershine is already sitting patiently by the bed. In a moment of inspiration, I peek out and say:

“Get me the doc, now!”

The leaving bandit nods, and rushes off.

“Did you have the chance to inform Cromach, Three?” I ask internally while lying down on the bed. To my surprise, Silvershine begins massaging my paws on her own, “What?” I say out loud.

“Should I stop?” she asks while applying more expert pressure to my paw pads.

“Nnnnngh… nevermind, keep going. I just need some time to think. I can’t afford to stay here for too long.”

“Yep, he was a bit confused at first, but he got it quickly,” reports Three.

I hear the clearing of a throat from the outside, and doctor Razim enters, slightly out of breath.

“You called, chief?”

“Yes. What do you need to patch the griffon we captured up faster?” I ask.

“He’s recovering incredibly quickly already, but I didn’t have the time or assistance to clean his wounds properly, stitch him up, and get all the bullets out of him.”

“Can you do all of that before tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’m… not sure-”

“What I meant was - do it! I’m going to need a big guy like him in place of our lost griffons.”

“What makes you think he’ll cooperate? You know how much it took to take him down in the first place.”

“The colt escaped, but he doesn’t know if we caught him. I sent a group to search around the oasis. We’ll also hold the unicorn hostage. The griffon will either break few noses for us, or watch his friend or friends get flayed alive before we sell him.”

“Wait, so you don’t want to recruit him?”

“Oh no, we’ll just use him for stage one of the plan. You know what I’m talking about.”

“I thought we weren’t going to attack the town,” Razim blinks in surprise.

“Not from the front, no. We’ll scout the town out tomorrow afternoon first, and depending on what we find, we’ll strike from the inside. I’ll explain the details later. You do all you can to get the griffon into shape, grab the slaves or griffons to help. If there are complaints, tell them to deal with me, ” I point at the tent flaps.

“I understand,” Razim nods, and leaves.

Now… I’ll have to ask Cromach few things through Three, but this should be doable.

First, we get to the town as visitors, not too many of us, to “scout it out”. Cromach should have a way to contact some law enforcement in secret, since he’s some sort of secret bigwig. If not, we’ll figure things out on the fly. Razim was worried about not having enough griffons for the attack, which means the town must have some protection which likely can’t react quickly enough if the bandits just attack and flee.

Step two, we come back here, gather everyone including the slaves to pretend we’re a travelling caravan. If my timing is right, we should arrive early in the morning. I tell the bandits to spread out, but the town guards should keep an eye on every single bandit, since there aren’t many of us. If there are too few guards, some militia might help. We’ll have to adjust this step depending on what we find during the scouting phase. I need the bandits spread out, because if the guards attacked us immediately after arrival, the bandits could use slaves as living shields, which is what I need to avoid.

Step three, everyone gets caught without too much bloodshed, slaves get freed, and Cromach, Three, and I can leave to find this Magnus guy.

“Silvershine?” I open my eyes as she continues her ministrations, now all over my hind thighs.

“Yes?”

“I need you to inform the slaves you can trust not to try to escape no matter what. I’ve got a plan.”

“That’s going to be easy,” she sighs, “Most of us got any hope beaten out a long time ago.”

***

“We’re being followed,” says Ten out of nowhere as the group keeps strolling through the Silent Circle.

Five reaches for her beard, Seven’s horn lights up, and Stompy agrees:

“For thirteen blocks now.”

The trip through the Silent Circle has been eventless until now, although the changelings were losing track of time spent here, which was something unthinkable to a species which normally didn’t need any external inputs to at least get the general idea. Even their love consumption seems to have slowed down to a crawl comparable to total hibernation despite all the walking.

“Didn’t you say this was the safest place?” asks Five.

“It is,” Ten shrugs, “I have no idea why anyone would stalk us. The prisoners here can’t harm us in any way, no matter how powerful they used to be before being sealed here.”

“Okay, then if the analytical infiltrators are stumped, it’s time for the brawn,” Five turns around and calls out openly, “GET OVER HERE, WHOEVER YOU ARE!”

“Five, no one in their right mind will-” Seven blinks when a grey, unicorn figure walks out from behind a corner, its head lowered but eyes haunted by misery locked on the changeling. Ten narrows his eyes while Nine openly growls. Five and Seven exchange glances when they realize the unicorn is wearing the same kind of paladin armor Ten is, only greyed out like the rest of him.

The unicorn stops in front of Nine, and starts crying.

“I had… I had a chance to see what you did… what I did… to all of you...” he mumbles between sobs.

“It is you...” Ten finally recalls why the unicorn was familiar, “You were with Star Trail in Las Pegasus! You-”

“-and Star Trail killed me,” Nine finishes slowly, and the unicorn’s weeping only grows louder as he nods.

“I know what happened to you,” says Ten, “I saw it through Comfort. Star Trail killed you in the end as well to have the power to fight her.”

“What do you want?” Nine scowls, “Forgiveness, or to finish the job?”

“Star Trail was branded a traitor by Celestia,” adds Ten, “As well as all paladins involved in hunting us since the beginning. Most who survived redeemed themselves eventually, but Star Trail never stopped trying. Right now, he’s been killed and reanimated into a flesh golem, helping some lich attack royalty as well as continue his mad ‘revenge’ against us. If you had at least a tenth of Bright Star’s courage, empathy, and integrity, he would have been stopped all those years ago.”

The paladin recoils as if punched, and takes several steps back.

“I… I just wanted to apologize...” he says, “I know it means nothing. I know it won’t change anything. I just... when I sensed you… I needed to see you, I needed to see if you being here was my fault. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for the murderous hatred I harbored for someone who… who did more good in few short years than I did in my long life.”

Nine closes his eyes, and breathes out:

“You can’t have known.”

“Huh?” the paladin looks up.

“What’s your name?” asks Nine.

“It doesn’t matter here anymore, but it used to be Resolute.”

“You can’t have known about us, Resolute. At least not at first,” Nine’s breathing is heavy, as if each word was an old wound being opened again, “You only saw how we had to act to survive, you only saw us during the invasion, you only heard about us when a remote village disappeared. At first, you can’t have known that our boss will do his best to break the cycle of hunting and hatred. We can’t have known.”

“I would do anything to turn back the clock and be a louder voice of reason, a more resolute one...” the paladin looks down at the ground.

“I won’t forgive you,” says Ten firmly.

“I understand,” Resolute nods.

“Let me finish!” growls Ten, “I won’t forgive you for Las Pegasus. What happened in the Castle of Two Sisters was enough to have sown doubt into Bright Star who saw Star Trail’s insanity, and that was your chance to prove you were a decent equine being. But I do forgive you for everything before that. Nine is right, you can’t have known what the invasion and one silly drone left behind would lead to. Hole, I was the monster who infiltrated Canterlot and opened the safehouses for changelings. We all have our burdens to bear. What happened, happened. All we can do is prove we’re better than we used to be. You’ve been here for a long time, I suppose. Do you know how to get to the lower circles of Tartarus?”

Resolute nods, color slowly returning to his gold and white armor, if not to him.

“I will get you there,” he says, and disappears.

A moment later, so does everyone else. When Five opens her eyes, she finds herself and the others standing around a hexagonal hole that makes her eyes water. The dimensions inside it are all wrong. She can see mountains, red rivers, and a whole world in it, but it moves as if she was circling around a mirror.

“I can’t go with you,” says Resolute, growing see-through with each passing second, “I thought my penance wasn’t done yet, but… but...”

“As a paladin, I relieve you of your duty, Resolute,” says Ten, saluting, “You can rest now.”

“Thank you… thank y-” he fades along with his voice.

Five remains quiet, sensing full well that this isn’t her internal fight. Even Seven seems to understand the gravity of the situation.

“Let’s go,” says Nine after a moment of silence, looking at Ten, “He fulfilled his final duty. It’s up to us to fulfill ours.”

One by one, they all jump into the gateway.

***

Hoooo, boy. This is different.

Cromach, I, Crusher, and Ripper are sitting in a rather lively tavern near the south border of Whistling Sands, which is the name of the town the bandits wanted to plunder. The fact that I managed to get this far without actually knowing the name or the plan shows how little they doubt Karil’s leadership, or more likely his brutality.

This is phase one of the plan - scouting. The real purpose of our visit, however, is currently walking towards us, and it’s the bartender.

“What’ll it be, esteemed guests?” asks the griffon with a polite smile. From what I understand, Whistling Sands is the last southern town before long trek through the desert for any caravan from the core of the Griffon Empire wishing to do some trading with the semi-independent states of the deep south. As such, the small town is flourishing, surprisingly rich, and thus completely understandable bandit target.

Which is also why there’s A DAMN FORTRESS a short distance away from the town. According to Cromach, more important towns and border checkpoints are always guarded by a fortress containing from fifty to two hundred Griffon Imperial Legion soldiers, enough supplies to last a siege, and space to host the whole town of civilians if need arises.

What I also got out of him before the trip when I told him my plan was that important places like these always have at least one Intelligence Service or Black Ops agent stationed there, generally keeping track of what’s going on. The most obvious place for there to be one is the big tavern slowly filling with guests staying here before continuing their trips tomorrow.

“What’s the strongest liquor you got?” I ask. Ammo, always think of ammo.

“I’ve got few bottles of Alpacistani imported grain whiskey. It’ll strip the scales off of a dragon,” replies the bartender, and looks at Stomper and Flayer, or whatever those two idiots are called, “And you?”

“Beer,” says Cruncher, and Spinebreaker just nods.

“Two beers, got it,” the bartender smiles at Cromach, “And for you, sir?”

“Got a bottle of Emperor’s Talon?” he asks.

I’m a changeling, so I can see that while the bartender’s smile remains on his beak, the rest of his face suddenly feels somewhat detached from it.

“I’m sorry, sir, we’re fresh out. I’ve got a friend in the north who can get you some if you’re willing to wait.”

“Nah, unless you can ask all your suppliers to get it here by tomorrow, then no,” Cromach waves his foreleg, “I can’t stay here for long. Business awaits. Though if you can get a bottle here for the next time I pass by, I wouldn’t mind,” he snaps his talons, “I’m such a scatterbrain, my drink… my drink… I’ll just have a beer then,” he waves his foreleg.

The bartender leaves, and quickly comes back with coasters and filled glasses. For some reason, the coaster under my sizzling shot glass is made of steel. When he’s out of earshot, I tap the table.

“Alright, listen and observe,” I order the highly intellectual duo of Diarrhea and Exploder, “We need to figure out how many guys we can grab. The others are scouting the city as planned, but we need to understand the flow of the place. Got it?”

The two big griffons nod, sipping their beers.

I down my shot glass in one go.

Everyone’s beaks drop. Even Cromach’s shock is genuine, which makes me smirk.

“Hmm, not bad,” I blink several times, and thank my still changeling insides.

Cromach stands up, which makes Annihilator and Talonbreaker reach for their pistols.

“Just gonna go to the bathroom, guys,” says Cromach defensively.

“We’re coming too,” says Big-but-dumb-number-one.

“Yeah, it’s all the beer,” the other big guy rises up too, looking at his barely touched drink.

They walk off. I hope Cromach understands the importance of not beating the everliving hole out of them, at least for now. I’m not sure he’d be able to do it in his current state despite the obviously amazing job doctor Razim did on him, but even if he got them both, it would still leave Three back in the bandit camp as well as all the slaves.

Yes, I could have taken Three with us. Yes, we could have just fought our way out in this situation…

...but then there would be no one to help Silvershine and the other slaves, and the oasis bandits would still be a threat. I might not be the boss here, but I would be a pretty crappy changeling if I thought only of myself and just left. Besides, it would gain us few hours at best.

And so, when Cromach accompanied by Dumb and Dumber come back, we just wait and listen.

***

Five quickly comes to the conclusion that once this “adventure” is over, she’s never using any kind of teleporter ever again. Unless ordered to do so for the good of the hive, obviously.

She finds herself standing on a balcony with her back to the vast expanse of… rather normal landscape, actually. Mountains in the distance, shrubs and brownish-green grassland everywhere. All in all, a rather plesant sight, or it would be if everything didn’t look so… blurry. That’s what she can see through the hive connection with everyone. However, her mental warning is enough for everyone appearing along with her not to move a muscle.

The reason for her freezing are two bipedal figures who could pass for minotaurs, only smaller, hairless, and rather smelly. In their hands, they’re holding long, metallic tubes which someone like Five can easily identify to be some sort of a gun. They don’t seem to have noticed the group’s arrival out of nowhere.

“Let’s back off a bit,” orders Five. To Stompy, she whispers, “Don’t move.”

The changelings silently skitter behind the wall of the long balcony, out of sight. They aren’t stupid enough to argue with a warrior in a potential combat situation.

“What’s that?” asks Nine mentally while pointing at a device lying at the end of the balcony. It looks like a box with a jagged blade sticking out of it. Ten and Five easily recognize the device, even though not this particular design.

“A chainsaw,” says Ten, “This one seems to be made for the use by hands, claws, or talons. Very similar to what the griffons use.”

“Oh, really?” Nine smirks, and with a quiet ‘whoosh’ he transforms into a strange draconic visage only Ten knows - a black hybrid of a dragon and a pony, overall pony-like but with thicker tail, and dragon scales covering his legs, spine, top of his muzzle, and chest for protection. The most importantly, though, it gives him claws with which he grabs the chainsaw.

He presses a button on the side, and the chainsaw roars.

Two loud grunts come in reply.

“Enemy activity!” says Stompy loud enough for the group to hear.

Two electronic whistles later, the changelings rush over to the mech who stands there, overlooking two headless corpses.

“It seems the enemy offensive capabilities are on par with ours. However, their durability seems lacking,” reports Stompy.

“Let’s go then. I’m going in first,” orders Five while entering a square room with no apparent reason for existence.

“No, let me,” says Nine calmly, “I’m the sturdiest one here. Plus, you know, dead already.”

Unfortunately, Stompy’s presence is making it impossible to sneak anywhere, and he already barely fits through the hallway leading out of the room. On the following T-section, they go left, and reach another square room with four large pillars from behind which two more figures immediately peek out, aiming their long-barrell guns at the group.

A bullet whizzes past Nine, immediately answered by a shot from Five blasting the creautre’s brain out. The shot from the second enemy bounces off of Nine’s chest scales, upon which Stompy’s laser burns the head off of the enemy as well, quickly revealing how the original two died. This time, Five examines the cold corpses and, more importantly, the weapons.

“Weird, these use standard pistol bullets,” she unloads the weapons, and shoves the bullets into her beard, “Long barrels like this usually hint to rifles.”

“Does it mean anything for us?” asks Ten.

“That they will be fairly accurate, but also that there’s no way they’re even scratching Stompy or probably us if we harden our armors a little. Aaand more ammo for me,” Five shrugs, “Does anyone see anything useful? No? Then let’s move.”

Since there’s no other route of the room, the group head back, and take the other side of the T-section. Another room awaits them, a long one with a window overlooking the strange, blurry landscape. The important part, though, is a brown, bipedal creature with red eyes, sharp teeth, and covered in spikes. It doesn’t look armed at first...

...until it throws a ball of pure fire out of nowhere.

The projectile is fairly slow, fortunately, giving the quick changelings plenty of time to get out of the way. Stompy immediately answers the attack with a laser beam as the creature is already charging at the group. It growls as the laser hits its head, but doesn’t seem particularly fazed. Its bull rush ahead ends with Nine, literally, as the changeling stands up, revvs his chainsaw, and grinds through the enemy in a shower of gore.

“Scary,” comments Nine flatly, flicking his weapon to get the blood off.

“This enemy’s skin seems resistant to heat-based weapons,” Stompy scans the brown creature, “Assigning designation - imp.”

“Well, I can’t see Six anywhere, and there isn’t any way to go,” says Seven, examining the brown walls until he stop in front of a black and grey section which slides into the rest of the wall, revealing a small, metallic grey room with a red button marked “EXIT”, “Umm, this seems too obvious to me.”

Ten looks out of the window, and frowns.

“I don’t think flying out there is a good idea. Besides, didn’t the janitor say we needed to go through this to some citadel? Through being the key word.”

“Get in,” orders Five.

Thankfully, the grey room is big enough for all of them, and when Seven pushes the red button, everything blurs.

***

Phase two of the plan is a go.

Despite its size, Whistling Sands has a proper caravan parking section, which means that the bandit wagons usually used for transporting slaves to southern states we took have a place to fit along with every single slave from the camp. The plan is to pose as a big caravan with slaves as servants, which is working out alright, thanks to Silvershine spreading the word. The bandits, of course, think that all the slaves had their will beaten out of them a long time ago, which is actually true to a high degree.

So, thanks to our scouting the evening earlier, the bandits know where they can capture targets the fastest, so aside from Ripper and Crusher keeping an eye on the exits of the wagons, there’s no one around. I just hope Cromach’s message got through. Silvershine is rubbing Crusher’s shoulders, and the other slaves are keeping a campfire going near the wagons, and cooking us breakfast.

“Hey, boss!” Three’s sitting in a cage inside next to Cromach’s, “The big meany is getting nervous.”

I walk over to Ripper sitting on the ramp leading to the other wagon, and ask:

“Anything wrong?”

“We’re being watched,” he growls.

“Guards, or just someone curious?”

“Armed griffons,” he taps the rifle on his back.

“I see...” I mumble, “Any reports from the guys around the town?”

“No,” he shakes his head, and nods to a smoking griffon in an alley nearby, who is one of our sentries.

The bandits spread out in a spiderweb pattern around the city in order to pass information quickly to us if needed, and if each one nabs a griffon whom they’ll bring inside the wagons, they’ll get twenty-ish slaves easily and quickly, upon which we should leave. Kinda like dragging a net to one central spot.

That’s the official plan anyway.

The unofficial part is that by now every single bandit should be trailed by griffon soldiers, and there should be enough griffons keeping an eye on our caravan.

The clock on the tower marking the caravan parking plaza strikes ten, meaning most griffons are at work, and that the streets are mostly empty. The bandits should be grabbing the found targets, and in the end we should raid the two caravans currently resting here as well if we have the place.

“Alright, servants!” I snap my talons, and the nearest slaves look at me, “Get us ready to leave. Ripper, harness them.”

I walk over to Crusher enjoying Silvershine’s attention, and say:

“Get ready, our guys will be here soon.”

He nods.

Five minutes pass, then ten, and then fifteen.

“Hey, where’s Hanson?” asks Crusher, turning his head around as he realizes the sentry standing in the alley isn’t there anymore, “I don’t like this.”

“They might just be taking side-alleys to avoid suspicion-”

Crusher immediately grabs Silvershine by the neck, and twists her in front of him as a live shield.

“Get inside, chief!” he hisses, and I quickly get in the wagon.

“YOU’RE SURROUNDED! LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS IMMEDIATELY!” calls out a voice over a loudspeaker right before some thirty griffon soldiers rush out of the wagons of the other two caravans, from the alleys, and from the roofs of the surrounding buildings, all aiming unhealthy amount of firepower at us.

“I knew something was wrong,” Crusher growls and raises his voice, “DON’T MOVE OR I’LL BLOW HER HEAD OFF, AND EXECUTE THE OTHERS INSIDE!” he grabs a pistol from his belt and puts it to Silvershine’s head.

A blade of green fire at the edge of his vision makes him realize that his armed foreleg suddenly isn’t attached to him anymore. He turns his head, and the last thing he sees is my love blade cleaving his head in half.

I transform back into a changeling as Silvershine covered in blood screams, jumping behind me. A second later, Ripper flies out of the other wagon, neck bent in an angle incompatible with life. Cromach walks out with changeling Three on his back whose runes are blinking brightly, alternating between red and blue.

“I’m the deep hole of the law!” proclaims Three loudly as four soldiers surround him, “Wee woo wee woo wee woo!”

Police colors Three aside, I don’t move when the Legion soldiers led by a griffon wearing nothing but a black jacket scour the caravan. The griffon exchanges few words with Cromach who points at me, and approaches.

“Well, your Beardedness,” Cromach bows, “The Legion soldiers caught everyone, and saved quite a few griffons. I must admit - well done!”

“Agent Silas,” the black-jacketed griffon salutes to me, “Griffon Empire Intelligence Service, your Majesty. I’m in charge of the operation, and also here to escort you and agent Cromach to the Holy City.”

“Thank you very much, agent. I’m glad no one got hurt,” I look down at the brutalized Crusher, “No one important who wouldn’t deserve it, I mean.”

“We serve the Empire, your Majesty. First things first, though. Agent Cromach said it was important for all slaves to be rounded up and delivered where they wanted.”

“Yes, it is,” I look down at Silvershine now sitting on the ground, smiling like an idiot. I pat her head, “Hey, these guys will take you home. Anywhere, right?” I end up looking at Silas again.

“We deliver all the way to Equestria,” he salutes with a smirk this time, and gasps for breath as Silvershine hugs him.

“You know,” Cromach smiles, “It did took a little longer, but I admit your plan brought a bit more joy into this world than mine would. Alas, we don’t have time for goodbyes,” he glances at Silas, “Agent, is the transport ready?”

“Follow me,” he nods. Before we can move, though, Silvershine hugs me this time.

“I never even asked your name. I need to know whom I’ll be thanking for the rest of my life,” she blubbers, half-crying.

“I’m no one special, Silvershine,” I say, “My hive just calls me the boss.”

“I’ll never forget you, boss.”

“I was happy to help,” I pat her head and slowly push her away, “but I have to go. Cromach, Three, and I are on an important mission for Equestria, and we’re already far behind schedule. Goodbye, Silvershine.”

“Goodbye, my lucky charm.”

I chuckle, and follow Cromach. Three jumps onto my back, flashing red and blue non-stop.

“So, how long does it take by train to the Holy City?” I ask.

“A week or so,” shrugs Cromach.

I sigh.

“I guess we’ll be too late for anything anyway then...” shaking my head, I add, “I suppose I really don’t have a choice but to trust One and everyone that they’ll be okay.”

“Eeeeh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Cromach chuckles, and takes into the air with a powerful jump, following Silas flying upwards to the empty sky.

Empty sky that is humming for some reason…

As Silas gets higher, the air ahead shifts and wobbles. As if I rubbed my eyes and saw something coming out of my blurry vision, a black, smooth, triangular airship reveals itself, two griffons saluting as Silas and Cromach land on the deck followed by myself.

“What is this?” I ask, wide-eyed. Cloaking technology, and a silent airship? This is on the level of dwarf tech, and by that I mean the top end of dwarf tech.

“Welcome to the Nighthawk, your Majesty,” Silas bows, “Don’t worry, we’ll have you in the Holy City by lunchtime tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’d get inside if I were you,” adds Cromach, quickly finding a trap door in the metal floor, and descending a short step of stairs down, “These things aren’t comfortable by any measure, but they are fast!”

As soon as I follow Cromach down, Silas flies off, presumably to take care of the slave situation. The griffons behind us close the trap door to the deck, and I feel growing pressure mounting on my body.

“Hold on to something,” says Cromach, “until we stabilize.”

I sit down, grab a bar on the wall with one foreleg, and Three with the other. The pressure mounts, making me grit my teeth.

My ears pop, and the whole ship rumbles.

The motion smooths out, and the pressure on me disappears. Carefully, I stand up, and realize I can walk normally.

“Your Majesty, agent Cromach,” a griffon left with us speaks up, “Let me take you to the guest quarters.”

A short trip through the narrow corridors where I have to walk with my head down to fit later, the leading griffon opens a metal door to a marginally larger room which could comfortably fit at most four griffons on soft, low, brown, padded couches. There’s a table screwed to the floor in the middle of the room as well. Cromach immediately lies down on his back, and closes his eyes.

“So, step one done,” he says, “Now to see what we can do about the primal alicorn of Magic...” he breathes out, “I’m going to need a vacation after this.”

“You seem pretty calm about this,” I comment, lying down as well. Three curls up on my chest, I hug him, and quickly feel his revitalizing love flow through me. I don’t need to feed from him directly, his ambient “love for everything” is more than enough, “I’m barely stopping myself from freaking out from all this responsibility. I have enough on my plate with my hive as is, and the possibility of the fate of Equestria resting on my back is a bit too much. Plus, we’re on the way to a powerful alicorn. Honestly, I’m jealous that you’re taking it so well.”

“Heh,” Cromach chuckles, “I was thinking something along those lines myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way you tried to save the slaves...” he sighs, “I wouldn’t have bothered. I know I would be in the wrong, but I wouldn’t have bothered. You just made me think of the times when I still cared, that’s all...”

“Cared about someone else’s life?”

“Cared about… anything, really. These days, I’m just going through the motions. A problem shows itself, I rush in or send Connie’s team to deal with it as effectively as possible. Collateral damage is irrelevant if the threat is stopped.”

“That’s mean,” mumbles Three.

“Yes, it is,” Cromach admits, “But I don’t know how big the margin of error is if the world is to survive. Blaze knew… I don’t...”

“What do you mean by the world surviving?” I ask. That sounds important, obviously.

“You heard Kronos,” Cromach shrugs, “I knew some of what he talked about already. I know who the real big enemies are, and kindness, compassion, or any other weaknesses are something they can easily exploit. The thing is… that I can’t bring myself to care.”

“Come on, I wasn’t supposed to be any big hero either, and I got wrapped in some apocalyptic stuff as well. I told you bits about my hive and Scream back in the bar. If I could, I would just stay underground with my family, but I had to attend the damn summit, and I’m here now, far away from them, still trying to do this in case it might help them or put them out of harm’s way.”

“That’s the thing, boss,” Cromach covers his face with his talons, “You have someone to personally care for. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy working with the guys under me. Astray reminds me of Blaze, and I love how much he’s grown over time. Bubbles is sort of like your Three, a fountain of joy and happiness-”

“Yep, she is awesome!” Three agrees.

“Anvil is hella wiser than she lets on,” Cromach continues, “but they are each other’s reason to keep going in some cases, not mine. I… I think it’s possible Blaze might return to me despite everything, but with each day… I’m losing hope. Will I even survive until he’s back? Will I see him only when I’m an old, senile bird, not even able to recognize him? Connie tries to keep me involved, but I’m just going through the motions, I don’t care, not genuinely care enough to help past solving the main problem. If I could, I would just sit in some forest shack, and sleep until I was overgrown with moss.”

“And yet, you’re here, working for everyone anyway. Those griffon guys out there acted as if you were their Emperor himself or something, and the alicorns back home respect you as well. You must be doing something right.”

“Well, that’s Connie’s doing, I think. She’s the dutiful, yet unbelievably perverted secretary type who can also crush a mountain with her mind. If she wasn’t kicking my ass to move me forward, I’d still be drinking myself to sleep every morning.”

“You mean night, right? We changelings don’t exactly do alcohol, but I think you pass out late at night, or no?”

“I usually opted for a head start,” Cromach snickers, “Or something like that… those days blend a lot.”

“Look, I’m doing this for my family, but One is the one who keeps driving me forward. I guess that behind everyone forced into leadership is a loving mare poking them with a sharp stick.”

“And we just can’t disappoint them, can we?” Cromach sighs.

“It’s hard to look at the disappointed face of someone whom you love and who genuinely believes in you with all their heart, isn’t it?” I hug Three tigher. He squeaks, and wraps his forelegs around my neck.

“Oooh yes...” he breathes out, “For years, I guess I was someone like that for Blaze too.”

I get a very very ubelievably exceedingly dumb idea.

You see, when a changeling is a really good infiltrator, they don’t need to bite their victims to affect them with their mental skills, but also to get into their unprotected heads.

***

There are skulls everywhere. Dozens of huge cages line the walls, and in those cages float bleached skulls with manes of burning flames. The skulls hiss continuously, or scream and bite the bars when Five gets too close. On the other hole, it looks like they can’t get out, so neither the changelings nor Stompy have decided to start shooting… yet.

That, of course, counts only for the current floor of the strangely technological dungeon they’re in. The sewer tunnels earlier were filled with zombies and imps who were met with full force of the frustrated changelings and one rather bored robot. It did serve to relieve some tension, though.

“Big guy incoming!” says Seven, his horn glowing with scrying magic.

“This one is mine,” Ten immediately flourishes the Sword of the First Emperor burning with golden fire which he borrowed from Five just for this occasion.

A huge zombie twice the build of the common one walks from behind a corner with an already spinning minigun. The hail of bullets hits Ten’s magical barrier spreading from the sword, evaporating the projectiles. Ten slashes the air, the swing releasing a shockwave of flames that incinerates the big zombie instantly. Only few charred bits and pieces remain smoldering on the floor.

“Overkill,” comments Five.

“After what Star Trail and that lich did to me, I really wanted to ruin some undead’s day. Too bad these guys are too brainless to understand what’s happening,” Ten shrugs.

“You could have left the gun...” grumbles Five, “It looked big, loud, and shooty.”

“Judging by our recent experiences, you’ll get several hundred opportunities to grab one in the near future,” Ten shrugs.

The long hallway filled with cages ends in a rounded inside plaza with a multi-tiered fountain of blood in its center, a huge, menacing, black gate ahead, and two more corridors leading away. Around the fountain circles a sole screaming, or grumbling, skull. Well, to be completely accurate - the first quiet skull. That ends when it notices the incoming group, and starts laughing.

“Well well well, what have we here? Unwelcome visit- whoah!” it quickly darts to the side to avoid Five’s gunshot, “Now let’s just calm down for a second-”

“This looks important,” Five points at the door, “Does this lead down to the succubi palace thing?”

“Yes, but you have to solve a riddle before you’re allowed to-”

“Stompy, is the gate the same nonsense as the Tartarus entrance?” Five turns her head to the mech.

“DON’T IGNORE ME!” yells the skull, “You have to correctly answer this riddle-”

“No, this gate seems vulnerable, although we do not possess the required amount of explosives,” reports Stompy.

“Alright, that’s it!” the flying skull somehow manages to scowl, “PINKY!”

Twenty panels around the circumference of the room open, and something like huge, pink, muscular bulls with teeth charge inside from a web of narrow hallways revealed by the trap.

Five immediately pulls a shotgun out of her beard, and blasts the nearest one.

“Finally, something wide enough to eat the spread.”

She backs away as the creature doesn’t explode in a shower of gore, unlike anything encountered before. It takes the shot like a champ, only backing away while growling and gnashing its teeth.

Stompy’s laser decapitates one, but it’s only one of tens swaming into the room.

“Seven, I’m gonna borrow your head for a second,” yells Ten.

Seven knows his job, and this is why he hasn’t bothered to use his magic ever since they entered Tartarus. He connects to Ten, his horn flares, and intricate magic starts draining into the floor, drawing a complex magical circle spreading away from the group on its own.

A pinky lunges at Nine who grabs its jaws, and starts pulling away. The pinky doesn’t seem able to use its forelegs for anything other than moving around, and its mouth slowly opens under the pressure of Nine’s bulging muscles, and-

*Crack!*

-both jaws cracks, ripped off by the powerful warrior, and leaving only a hole to the pinky’s neck, through which Nine rams his claws with ease.

Ten’s borrowed sword burning with holy flames is the most effective weapon, hacking pinkys into bits with ease, but there’s just too many of them. The pressure of bodies on its own is enough to keep the changelings backing off even despite Nine starting his chainsaw and ruining pink demon after pink demon.

Some twenty or thirty dead demons are staiing the floor, slowing the progress of others, when Seven’s spell finally opens a green gate into what looks like a… bakery?

“Hey, these guys want to hurt Three’ friends,” Ten calls out.

The pinkys stop, and look as one at the pink earthpony mare with poofy mane who jumps through.

And another, and another, and another...

“THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE!” screams Pinkie Pie, aiming her party cannon at the grouped up demons.

“DOESN’T MATTER HOW MANY OF THE ONE THERE ARE!” another Pinkie with her own cannon agrees.

Seven throws up a protective barrier of his own will now, and then everything outside of the bubble turns to frosting.

Soon, things go deathly quiet.

Seven makes the protective bubble disappear, and all the white frosting caught on it drops on the floor.

“This situation does not seem physically possible,” comments Stompy.

First, the pink ponies are nowhere to be found. Second, the blood fountain is now producing liquid chocolate. Third, the pinkys are all smeared on the floor and walls, mixed with cake batter and confetti. Fourth, the riddling skull is stock still in the air, its jaw dropped.

“Is this enough of an answer for you?” asks Five.

“What?” the skull recovers from tis stupor, “No, I can’t open unless-”

It explodes.

“Then the answer is shotgun,” scowls Five, and kicks the nearest corpse in her way, “Let’s go find another route or some explosives.”

***

“I have no doubt that you were,” I say in a new, slightly higher voice.

Cromach sits up instantly, and glares at me.

“Beard, drop that,” he says. On the surface, he sounds controlled, but as a changeling I know I’m one wrong word away from unpleasantness.

“Humor me here, Cromach, please,” I tilt my head. Three hops off of me, and starts poking my wings.

“Woooooow… these look a lot more awesome than ours! They’re like… on fire! Do they burn, boss?”

“Shhh, Three. Not now,” I wrap the strange pink and gold wing around him. It doesn’t look as if it fits to the bronze-colored, blond unicorn- alicorn technically the image of whom was so openly on Cromach’s mind that I didn’t need too much focus to recreate it.

“Alright, in the spirit of diplomatic relations, I’ll give you a chance,” says Cromach, his breathing quickening, “What are you doing?”

“Honestly,” I shrug, “I’m not sure myself, but… from everything I heard… I think you might have something to get off of your chest. I’m willing to listen,” I grab unresisting Three, and toss him to Cromach, “Take him. It might help. Don’t ask me how he works.”

Without a word, Three curls up in Cromach’s lap. Not taking his eyes off of me, Cromach wraps his wings around Three. After few seconds, though, he closes his eyes, and hangs his head low.

“I’m sorry...” he beathes out.

I’m not sure whether he’s talking to me or to the pony I’m now disguised as. On the other hole, it doesn’t really matter.

“I forgive you,” I say softly, “But I feel you’re hurting yourself more than anything bad I could say would, even if I wanted to.”

Cromach’s eyes are still closed, maybe to forget where he is and to persuade himself that this is even remotely real.

“I know that. I know you would be the first one to say that I should move on, or that I shouldn’t let waiting for your return stop me from living, but that’s exactly the problem! How can I betray someone who feels like that about me? Someone who would never be jealous as long as I was happy. Someone who was fine believing he was a placeholder until I could find someone better. There never was anyone better, and never will be. When Harmony tore you away from me, his damn tentacles ripped my heart out with you.”

“Why do you think you’re betraying me?” I ask, “You’re torturing yourself thinking about me. I would never want that to happen.”

“Because of Connie...” he chuckles, “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I love her, but we… fit. I enjoy spending time with her, I enjoy her sarcasm and borderline craziness, I enjoy her not taking us for granted… and when I think about it, the things I like about her are exactly what I loved about you. Of course, she doesn’t have a dick, but you should see her chest of toys in Manehattan. A changeling couldn’t come up with some of her weirder stuff.”

“I’m glad that you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” I hazard a guess. I have no clue how Cromach was before his crippling loss.

“Just a way of masking trouble and lack of confidence, as usual,” he breathes out.

“Of course not.”

“Can’t fool you,” he shakes his head, “You could always see through me right away, and so does Connie. That’s the thing. The more I open myself to her, the more afraid I am that she’ll… that she’ll...”

“Surpass me?” I tilt my head.

“No!” Cromach looks up at me, eyes wide, and waves his forelegs, “I mean- I mean- no- no one can surpass what we had- no… I’m afraid that if she fills the gaping hole in my heart then I will forget you. Not completely, of course… but enough...”

“I want you to be happy. Or at least, I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

“You aren’t hurting me, you could never hurt me.”

“Come on. You can lie to yourself, but don’t lie to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out immediately.

“I believe in you,” I choose my words carefully, because I don’t know enough details to make an accurate judgement, “If I showed you what you truly love in someone, then I want you to use it, not be afraid of it. Hay, if I ever come back, I want you to have some experience, right? You know, practice makes perfect and so on.”

To my surprise, Cromach smiles. No smirk, no sarcastic chuckle, an actual, genuine smile.

“I suppose you’re right. You usually are. I still don’t want to forget you, though.”

“Maybe you have to, at least for a while. Maybe you need some time to lick your wounds, to heal, to lick Connie,” I snicker, “And afterwards, if you don’t know where to go next, then you can think of me. Besides,” I wave my foreleg, “I won’t be too special if you think about me all the time, will I?”

“You’re an idiot,” he breathes out, “and I love you for it.”

“I love y-”

“No,” Cromach stops me sharply, his green eyes glowing from the inside, “That is something even you can’t fake. Maybe for normal ponies, but not for me.”

“He loved you with all his heart, I know that,” I correct myself, transforming back into a changeling, “I can feel it from you even now.”

“He was the alicorn of Hope. He brought hope to everyone around him and died saving everyone everywhere. Yet, he needed me and few others to prove that there was hope for him as well. He doesn’t deserve to be forgotten.”

“He deserves a lover who is happy.”

“Yeah yeah. Stop laying it on so thick,” he lies down on his back, grabs Three by his barrel, and raises him up. Three reaches down and boops Cromach, “I guess I’ll admit this helped a bit, but don’t think of ever using Blaze’s visage again.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” I reassure him, lying down as well. Few minutes of slow breathing later, I open a new topic, “So, this Connie of yours… she sounds a little like my One.”

“Rough, perverted, steers you the right way most of the time, but needs the occasional spanking if she goes too far?”

“Alright, that’s uncanny,” I snort, “Next you’re going to tell me she’s your secretary, she’s not too good at the big political stuff but she tries to manage it for you, she’s a great warrior, and would level a city if somone in it looked at you funny.”

“Spoooookyyyyy,” Cromach laughs, and tosses Three in a low arc back to me.

“Wheeee!” guess who adds his two bits to the conversation.

***

“I don’t like this...” Five carefully peeks behind a corner of the complex of corridors under the Citadel.

Some time earlier, they did manage to find an access tunnel which led broadly into the direction of the heavily fortified Citadel with the hope of finding some drainage through which they could slip inside. Unfortunately, while there were numerous tiny pipes through which a changeling could usually fit, the group decided unanimously against leaving Stompy behind, and the toxic waste flowing from the drains was pretty dangerous to a transformed changeling anyway. Of course, in their normal shape, the reinforced chitin and Stompy’s chassis were more than enough protection to let the group wade through sometimes knee-high sludge.

Their current problem, though, is that ever since entering the presumed Citadel sewers, the group haven’t found any enemies… or any enemies in one piece, to be exact.

With utmost care in case that this is another elaborate trap, Five steps over a partially melted machine gunner sticking out of the flowing waste without bothering to unload his gun, since she’s worried that her beard of holding might be reaching its capacity. At least it’s getting strangely warm.

Five shakes her head, and repeats the question she’s been asking herself since entering the sewers.

Why is this place filled with dead demons? A turf war or something? The various kinds of demons did attack each other if provoked. Five tested that theory several levels ago when she scouted ahead while invisible, and then tossed a barrel of something explosive at an imp from behind, upon which the brown biped started tearing into the group of zombies previously standing guard behind it.

And that’s the thing - the demons in the lower circles just stood still until they sensed danger, which usually meant ‘heard Stompy’. Thankfully, firepower has been something that proved very easy to replenish.

Five’s warrior ears perk up. She hears something she hasn’t heard before in this place.

It’s… it’s… the clicking of bones?

“Stay here,” she whispers, “but be ready to assist me.”

Unfortunately, the shapeshifting needed to go invisible doesn’t allow for reinforcements needed to walk safely through the toxic slime, so Five darts ahead, timing her steps with the natural bubbling and splashing of the sludge. Soon, the sewer tunnels open into a central room with many tunnels branching out of it, and a raised central platform where a big, armored quadrupedal figure has just dodged two rockets shooting out of twin shoulder-mounted rocket launchers of a bipedal skeleton twice the figure’s height.

Five freezes, her eyes going wide.

“That’s not possible...” her jaw drops as well.

The big… griffon wearing the tangled and charred remains of a power armor jumps behind the skeleton, punches the back of its knee which makes the skeleton kneel. The two rockets turn mid-air, aiming back at the griffon who simply grabs the skeleton’s skull, tears it off, and throws it at one rocket while kicking the rest of the body against the other.

The skeleton’s rockets obliterate their previous owner, and the griffon stands up on all fours, looking around.

“Oh fuck no...” whispers Five, taking a step backwards.

That proves to be a huge mistake, as moving against the flow of the sludge results in a rather loud splash. But hey, Five isn’t an infiltrator.

The griffon immediately looks her way, and bolts.

WHY IS HE SO FAST?!

Five is galloping back to the rest of the group, listening in disbelief as the griffon’s splasing is getting closer. She can’t burn too much love on moving faster, there’s nowhere to replenish here, and she’s rationing what she has left in the best way she can already.

“Run runrunrunrunrun! It’s the fucking sword griffon again!” she mentally warns everyone.

“Wait, what? That Imperial Guard from the Castle of Two Sisters?” asks Ten.

“Yeah! The guy whom Comfort and One sent to the Dragon Lands and who found us in Brauheim before we threw him into a magma stream,” adds Five.

“You have got to be kidding me...” Seven breathes out.

“Alright, everyone,” Ten takes charge, “Back off, aim properly, and sent that bastard to the depths of- well, even deeper than he is now. And this time, make sure he’s dead!”

Five rushes left, rounding a corner of the tunnel and seeing horns glowing with magic as well as unpleasant amount of firepower aimed her way. Of course, it doesn’t stop her jumping past Nine with a chainsaw already running.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop the griffon either.

In a shower of sparks, he rams his power-armored foreleg straight into the mechanism of the chainsaw which screeches and stops instantly. The punch has enough power behind it to unbalance Nine which the griffon uses to push past while ripping the mangled chainsaw out of Nine’s grip.

Stompy shoots a laser while backing off which scores a deep scar in the griffon’s armor, but he can’t get a critical aim without hitting Nine. Seven’s magic set on pushing the griffon away is simply shrugged off as the scorched, golden symbols on the griffon’s armor unravel the core of the spell and weaken it enough for the griffon to keep going.

Ten, on the other hole, brandishes the Sword of the First Emperor, and strikes the griffon blocking the blow with the stopped chainsaw.

That finally stops the griffon’s progress as blow after intricate blow force him to defend, dodge, and back off. The griffon is strong and the armor protects him from the sludge, but the viscous goo still hinders his movements while Ten’s flying sword is as fast as ever.

Behind Ten, Five has managed to pull out all the pieces of her laser gatling turret, and assemble the tripod.

“After all these years, this ends here,” growls Ten, seeing through Five’s eyes that both she and Stompy are ready to make mincemeat of the griffon. His sword lights on fire, and cleaves the chainsaw through.

“Target clear,” Stompy fires a hail of lasers, and so does Five.

“Oh shi-” she curses instantly.

The amount of energy sufficient to burn through a steel vault door stops as all the beams hit a green barrier made by Seven’s unmistakable magic.

Five lets out a breath of relief.

Why? Because as soon as Ten chooped the chainsaw in the griffon’s talons, the Imperial Guard kicked up with his hind leg which caught Nine and sent him flying up right into the griffon’s foreleg as a living shield. Or as living as it can mean here.

Holding Nine by his horn and neck, the griffon smiles when the protective shield disappears and Seven rubs his horn.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t let you incinerate Nine,” he mentally apologizes.

“You can still do it,” replies Nine, “If this helps protect my hive, I will consider it my final service.”

Five aims the gatling at Nine’s head behind which is the griffon’s head.

“Finally! Give me the sword,” growls the griffon.

“You know...” Ten lowers his flying weapon, “Now that I think about it… why not?”

“It’s ONE’S sword,” objects Five.

“Have you ever seen her use it?” he raises an eyebrow, although he doesn’t stop watching the griffon for a second.

“Once or twice, she prefers using her hooves anyway,” Five has to admit.

“Soooo… technically it IS just some ancient dwarf sword the griffons didn’t pay for, right?” Ten pushes his point.

“Look, One will be pissed off if it gets lost. It’s a dwarf gift to her and the boss.”

“Oh, and what is she going to do?” sneers Ten, “Kill me and send me to Tartar- oh wait!”

“I’m not-” Five opens her mouth to object, her mental mouth obviously.

“Hey, big guy,” Ten interrupts her out loud, “How about a deal? No tricks, no traps, just a straight up exchange.”

“What deal?” the griffon shakes Nine.

“Two deals, technically. One - we give you the sword, and you let Nine go. We won’t try to get it back in any way. It will be yours to do whatever you want with it.”

“You think I’m going to believe you after all this time?!” he growls.

“You threatened and attacked us twice,” Ten narrows his eyes, “We defended ourselves. We aren’t the untrustworthy ones here.”

“You dare doubt the word of a Black Ops agent AND and Imperial Guard?” the griffon sounds genuinely upset, which to an infiltrator like Ten is all he needs to hear.

“And part two of our deal,” Ten adds, “You help us get our friend back from the succubi palace, and in return we take you with us back to the real world. You must have realized by now that you can’t just walk out of Tartarus.”

The griffon ponders that in silence.

“I am going to be the one explaining this to One, aren’t I?” sighs Five.

“Tell her it was either the sword or Six,” Ten shrugs mentally.

“I guess...” this doesn’t cheer up Five as much as it should.

“And if she complains about something, tell the boss,” adds Ten, “There is absolutely no way our boss would consider some stupid sword more valuable than Six.”

This finally does help, and so does the griffon’s:

“On my dual authority to both branches of the Griffon Empire, I accept your deal.”

“Good,” Ten doesn’t wait, and throws the sword to the griffon who catches it in one smooth motion while letting Nine go, “I’m Ten, the warrior mare with the laser turret is Five, the big warrior whose chainsaw you ruined is Nine, the mech is Stompy, and the wizard who stopped Nine from having more holes than any changeling should is Seven.”

The griffon, watching the group closely as he approaches after sheathing the sword into a golden scabbard hidden behind a narrow sliding panel on the back of his armor, simply says:

“WooD, agent WooD.”

“Nice to meet you, Wood,” Ten smiles back, worried out of his mind, but more and more certain that the griffon is genuine.

“WooD,” the griffon corrects him.

“Oh right, the emphasis is on the D for some reason,” Ten shrugs, “Nice to meet you, agent.” to himself, he adds, “As in brain Damage.”

Five snickers. Emphasis on the D.

“How old are you, seven?” Ten rolls his eyes.

“I mean, technically yes,” replies Five.

“So, what’s the plan?” asks WooD.

“We need to get inside the citadel, go through, and there should be a portal leading down to the succubi palace. We were hoping there was a way to get there through these sewers, because there’s a huge, locked gate up there, and we don’t have enough explosives to break through. There was a burning skull by the gate who wanted us to answer a riddle or something.”

“I cleared most of this complex out. There’s no way up, if we’re under this... Citadel. Let me have a look at that gate, I’m trained in lockpicking of all sorts and getting into places.”

Some fifteen minutes later, the group are standing by the menacing gate yet again. No one has commented on the remnants of cake batter, pinkys, and confetti.

“Hmmm...” WooD narrows his eyes, accompanied by grunting from burning skulls caged all over the entry hallway, “No keyhole, no problem.”

He disappears into the long hall from which the group originally arrived.

“A little help?” he calls out.

The changelings shrug, and find WooD trying to push one of the huge cages filled with the burning skulls. Despite his obviously crazy strength, it’s still too much for him. With Stompy and Nine, however…

Half an hour later, the room with the Citadel gate is filled with the cages.

“I’d back off if I were you,” says WooD, pointing behind himself. The changelings run off through the hallway, and hide behind a distant corner. WooD reaches into the nearest overfilled cage, and grabs a skull which starts screaming out loud, its fiery mane flaring up. He quickly joins the changelings, points the skull’s face to the distant cages, and smacks its back.

The skull roars, and soars forward like a biting and burning comet.

“Cover your ears,” says WooD.

“Aural sensors disengaged,” replies Stompy.

As soon as the burning skull hits the first cage, the screaming goes hundred times louder, and then-

*BOOM!*

The whole gate room is scorched black, cake and pinky corpses now only evaporating red mist.

“YES!” Five punches the air.

One wing of the Citadel gate is ripped out of its hinges, showing a crushed mess of zombies and imps behind. Many more, though, are already massing to defend the newly opened part of the complex.

Five pulls a stolen minigun out of her beard, and its barrel start spinning.

***

“Apricots for everyone?” asks Cromach.

“Check!” I say, waving a paper bag.

“Mmphm!” Three nods, mouth full of apricots not used to open the supposed entrance to Magnus’ tower.

“Blueberry juice,” Cromach continues.

“Got it,” I raise the plastic cup stuck firmly inside a hole in my leg.

“Mmmhm!” and so does Three.

“Sometimes I envy you changelings,” the griffon shakes his white head, “Now think of a mare you want to bang. Mare specifically, I assume, so here we go - Connie. Some lingerie? Nah, latex thong and corset? That’s better.”

“Miss One!” Three finally swallows the chewed apricots and spits the kernels out.
“One,” I say simply.

Three and I look at each other. Cromach snickers.

“Oh my, rivalry?”

I exchange grins with Three, and we both walk into a tall wall which wobbles and swallows us. I’m fully aware that One taught Three the basics… I mean the most basic of the basics. Like what kissing is and why we had to soundproof the castle cellars… after I found out that the guards were taking bets on how soon I would be able to crawl out on my own each time.

I mean, I would like to describe the famous griffon Holy City, the core of the Empire and the seat of the Emperor himself. Well, a booster seat these days, because as we were approaching, Cromach told me a story where he and his lover thwarted a hostile takeover of power which resulted in the death of the previous Emperor and left the throne in the rather young talons of the new Emperor and his current caretaker Vargaz whom I met in Canterlot. Come to think of it, since the Griffon Empire stands on the separation of power between the Black Ops, the Emperor, and the noble families, Vargaz, being the head of Black Ops and the current Imperial steward, might actually be the most politically and militarily powerful creature in the world.

Damn, words cannot express how happy I am that I have just few changelings in our cozy underground home to take care of. And they can take care of themselves… most of the time.

Back to the topic, I actually didn’t see much of the Holy City, because we were supposed to stay inside the airship with no view until we stopped right above the central market which looked like a city of its own, with possibly thousands of small alleys spread into a spiderweb pattern filled with stands and stores. The only thing I could gather clearly while flying down from the ship was that the crowds in the market itself were more griffons than the entire population of both Canterlots, and the size of the Holy City itself looked as if someone was gazing from upper Canterlot city walls, and everything they could see were houses and plazas.

The city is HUUUUUUUGE.

On the other hole, sightseeing wasn’t exactly our reason for being there anyway, so we quickly bought what we needed with Black Ops money the agents gave to Cromach without a question, and found the tall wall separating the market from what supposedly is the center of the Holy City - the imperial palace itself, which from above looked like a guarded city on its own.

And so here we are…

...in a grey, dark, stone room.

I boop Three, which makes the runes all over him flare up with bright, white light.

“Much better,” I look around. There really isn’t anything to talk about, since the whole place actually looks similar to a Canterlot castle dungeon cell.

Reality wibbles, and Cromach appears next to me and Three. He turns his head from side to side, and then looks at Three, brows furrowed.

“Lampling,” he snorts, “Very useful.”

I flick Three’s stubby tail, and his eyes light up too, casting two bright cones ahead.

“Huh, didn’t know this was a thing,” I admit.

“Me too,” Three shakes his head, making the lights all around the room dance, “I wonder if I can… hnnng...” nothing happens, “Awww, I thought I could change colors again. I must be doing something wrong. Oh well, where are we?” he asks with a carefree shrug.

“Good question,” Cromach walks ahead, putting his ear to a closed door set in the opposite wall, “Maybe a holding cell in case someone accidentally wandered into Magnus’ tower?”

“I don’t know much about magic, but wouldn’t the next logical step be having an alarm here if that happened?” I ask.

“True,” Cromach nods, and grabs the door handle with his talons. He blinks as green lightning courses through him, then through the door, and finally the door opens, “Whoah, what just happened?”

“Asking the wrong changeling here,” I shrug, “I know everything about changelings glowing green, not griffons.”

“Three, any ideas?” Cromach looks at Three instead.

His lights turn green.

“Hah! How did I do that?” Three examines his hooves.

“Another wrong changeling...” I roll my eyes.

“Pfff, can one of you change into the right changeling?” he smirks, and without waiting for anything he walks through the door. The next room looks like a longer version of the previous cell, although the door on the other side doesn’t bear any handle or lock, but with one big, tall, muscular, and bouncing difference.

A grey, translucent, and very endowed female minotaur wearing a short corset leaving her heavily toned midsection open, fishnet stockings, and a top hat for some reason smiles at us, and crosses her hands on her bountiful chest, adding a serious amount of squish to the already straining corset.

“Greetings, visitors,” she announces in a tone I usually hear before One closes a cellar door behind us, and smiles, “My master wasn’t expecting anyone today.”

“We weren’t expecting such warm welcome either,” Cromach unceremoniously walks over to her, and pokes her abs. His talon passes through with only a little resistance, which makes him hum with interest, “Too corporeal to be a projection of a spirit, but not enough to be a construct. What are you?”

The minotaur chuckles, and runs the palm of her hand down Cromach’s cheek. Judging by his twitch away, he can feel it in full.

“I am just the master’s servant. In here, I am as real as I need to be, handsome,” she chuckles, and leans down a little to face Cromach which strains her corset even further. If that was some real material failing under the constraint of physics, we would be already watching a definitely gripping show. See? I did listen to Six trying to teach me stuff from his engineering classes, although I do admit that boob physics wasn’t what I was expecting to use the teachings on, “But since you arrived unannounced, you have to prove that you are worth my master’s time,” she rises to her full height.

“And how would we do that?” I ask.

If she’s in any way bothered by me being a changeling and Three being a walking green lantern, she doesn’t let it show whatsoever.

“Hello, pretty lady,” Three looks up at her.

“Oh my, aren’t you adorable!” she squats, and squishes Three’s cheeks, which makes his lights turn pink. To the rest of us cursed by lack of heart-rending cuteness, she says, “Anyway, you will have to pass a series of challenges, which will test your suitability and dedication to any cause which brought you here.”

Cromach sighs.

“Alright then, let’s get on with it...”

“Excellent!” the minotaur claps her hands together, wide smile on her face. It seems she’s happy to have company other than presumably Magnus. There can’t be too many visitors here, “The first one is simple - a riddle.”

“We’re listening,” says Cromach.

I am listening, but not exactly to the minotaur. There’s faint humming of electricity in the walls which I haven’t heard since I left Brauheim. From what I was told, this is supposed to be a tower inside some pocket dimension, in which it makes sense that Magnus would be able to move around without his titty ghost bothering him. Transporting his ‘test subjects’ could also happen using teleportation, but the machinery I hear would make no sense then. On top of that, if our crazy researcher Magnus is in any way similar to Seven… he’s lazy.

The thing I hear in the walls is the humming of an elevator on standby like in many of Brauheim mines.

“That’s easy!” exclaims Three, “The answer is ‘changeling’.”

I turn around just to see Cromach facehoof- facepalm- facetalon.

“I respectfully have to disagree, little changeling,” the minotaur blinks in surprise.

“No no no!” Three shakes his head vigorously, “I can totally walk on all fours in the morning,” he trots around, “And at noon I can walk on two legs,” he transforms into a quarter-sized version of the female minotaur herself, and struts around, butt in fishnets jiggling and swaying from side to side, “And three legs in the evening is easy. Look, I still have my juice cup!” he returns to his normal form, and walks around on three legs while sipping his drink stuck in a leg cupholder.

The minotaur’s jaw drops.

“I think he got you there,” Cromach shrugs, the corner of his beak twitching, “Next challenge?”

“I- I- I don’t think-” she huffs, “Okay, I’ll admit your take on the riddle is workable,” turning around, she touches the door which opens, “Come and face the second challenge then.”

She walks through with Three and Cromach in tow. I frown, and stomp my hoof against the floor several times. As the tremors travel through the stone floor, I listen and feel.

Ah hah!

“Beardling, you coming?” Cromach raises his voice.

“Give me a moment!” I call back, “You seem to be doing fine with the challenges.”

Three and Cromach look around the next room which once again looks very similar to the previous one, but instead of door, the opposite wall is completely taken by strange mechanism consisting of a dozen spinning gears, connecting transmissions, and ridges within the constraint of which the gears can presumably be moved. Near the entrance there is a panel with buttons and levers.

“What in Hope’s reach is this?” Cromach rolls his eyes.

“A simple challenge, unless I prove too distracting for you, handsome,” the minotaur traces Cromach’s clearly defined muscles on the side of his barrel, before bending over to stretch and moan, “Mmm, it feels great to be conjured up once in a while. Physical bodies have their advantages,” she snaps her fingers, as if remembering her reason for being here, “The panel you’re looking at controls the opening mechanism to the next challenge. You are free to test what each controller does. Some move the gears, some change the position of the transmissions. You need to connect the spinning motor gear to the golden gears in each corner. Once all are spinning, powered by the central motor, the door will open.”

“Okay,” Three buzzes into the air to examine the controls.

“What’s the red gear in the middle of the right side?” asks Cromach with suspicion.

“Smart as well as having the body sculpted by gods themselves,” the minotaur gives Cromach a smooch on his cheek, “That one activates the spike traps around the room. I wouldn’t turn that on if I were you.”

“Three, don’t touch anything yet,” says Cromach immediately.

“Okay!”

“I will give you two pieces of advice,” the minotaur smiles, “Since you don’t look like common thieves, or uncommon ones for the matter. None of the first moves you can make will trigger the trap, and all moves you make can be reversed by the same controller, how about that?”

“Thank you very much,” says Cromach with a smile, “And if you weren’t incorporeal, Three would hug you, I think.”

“LONG WORDS I DON’T UNDERSTAND WON’T STOP ME FROM HUGGING!” Three jumps at the minotaur, and latches onto her chest, nuzzling her neck. She gives him a genuinely confused stare, and eventually just pats his head, which makes him let go and return to examining the control panel.

Cromach moves a lever at random, and gets ready to run back into the previous room in case the minotaur was lying. Nothing other than one of the non-spinning gears moving along its ridge happens. He repeats the process by pulling the lever back. The gear returns to its original position. So at least the reversal thing was true.

“Oookay, this is going to get annoying fast...” he taps his talons on the panel.

“Nope,” I enter the room, and gesture at both of them to follow me, “Come here.”

I lead everyone back to the previous room, walk over to a wall, and press a stone which smoothly slides inwards. In response, a section of the wall next to it turns out to be a metal panel with a small outward section imitating the rest of the room, and it is pulled into the ceiling along with a hiss of hydraulics.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” objects the minotaur as I enter the large elevator lit by electric lights in its ceiling.

“An elevator?” Cromach tilts his head, “Are you sure this isn’t going to backfire horribly?”

“No, but you’re free to fiddle with whatever that damn clockwork thing in the other room is,” I shrug, and move my hoof to push the button which looks like an arrow pointing upwards. Three is already in here with me, so Cromach just walks in as well, and pushes the button himself, “Sorry, miss minotaur, but we don’t have time for this.”

She sighs, and squeezes her breasts.

“I’ll miss having a body again. Oh well… good luck, I suppose,” with a shrug, she dissipates into nothing.

The elevator door closes, and the box starts moving upwards.

“How did you find this?” asks Cromach, giving me an appraising and impressed look.

“One, I have a changeling who is top notch at analyzing magic so I know how lazy researchers are. Two, from everything I heard, this Magnus isn’t exactly a paragon of morals, so I doubt a lot of his test subjects were willing. He needed a way to transport them while, let’s say, using his magic to do something else. Three, I used to be a drone, Cromach, and drones exists to scout out underground areas. We can feel the structure of solid ground, nearby hollow spaces, and potential cave-ins. Plus, I could hear the buzzing of electricity in the walls. This is a high-tech place, maybe more than Br- any other place I’ve seen. Three could have figured this out too, but he was busy answering questions from one very distracting minotaur.”

The elevator stops, and the door opens again, showing only a round room lit by wall lamps imitating old oil lanterns, but with much better light. There’s a simple wooden door ahead heavily decorated with angular symbols I can’t recognize at all. What comes to mind first is that someone very old wanted to make this place feel familiar while still enjoying the benefits of present-time technology. Strangely enough, no magic yet. For the supposed primal alicorn of Magic, this entire place is highly technological other than the fake minotaur.

“Be prepared. If Magnus is the attacker, we might find ourselves in a shitstorm without an umbrella,” whispers Cromach, and walks towards the door.

He raises his talons to knock, then simply grabs the handle and pushes.

Immediately, I hear angry mumbling clearly belonging to a stallion.

“Greeeeeat, so I have to update something against changelings. Come in, sit down, and shut up. I’m busy.”

Well, still a better welcome than a fireball. With a shrug, I follow frowning Cromach into-

“Wooooooow!” Three says mentally as he looks around, eyes widening.

Now this is a laboratory bigger than Canterlot castle ballroom. There are various tables spread around, each hosting either sets of books, alchemical equipment, clearly magical crystals, machinery, fields of pure, colored magic containing real or unreal items or shapes. The walls are lined from the floor to the ceiling with decorated bookshelves, books, scrolls, display cases with weapons, armors, amulets, alchemical reagents, things I can’t recognize, name, or even some which make my head ache only by looking at. No cages or bloodied operating tables, though. Surprising.

A white unicorn with blond mane and permanent frown etched on his face is walking around with a set of opened books, rolled out scrolls, and diagrams made of pure light spread in a dome around him, all following his every move.

The pony isn’t an alicorn, clearly due to his lack of wings, but Cromach is watching him so carefully as if he was about to melt us with a stray thought. That could be the case, actually.

And so we just patiently stand there, watching him move around and mutter to himself. After twenty minutes, I can’t take it anymore, and clear my throat.

“Get lost!” Magnus barks our way.

“A-HEM!” I clear my throat louder, “We’re here to ask about-”

“I don’t care, I’m BUSY!”

“Princess Celestia think you might be behind the attacks on royalty-” Cromach gives it a shot as well.

“Yeeeeeah, that sounds so stupid I don’t doubt she came up with that...” Magnus only switches two books in front of him, and the floating diagram of light shifts, “Thirty-four percent, really? That sounds like way too much. Why wouldn’t it just blow up then? Spinning for stability? Wait, is the spin of the universe actually enough to offset the volatility?”

We won’t get anywhere like this.

“Mister Magnus-” I burning set of love claws grows out of my foreleg.

“Which part of busy did you not understand the first time, dimwit? Go tell Sunbutt to eat another cake or something.”

“-I would really look around before blowing us off like this,” I continue, now unfazed, “It would be a shame if some of the gorgeous stuff here got damaged on accident...”

That makes the annoyed alic- unicorn look straight at me and at my razor sharp love claws casually resting on a random table completely covered in scrolls. I have no idea whether the stuff lying on it is important, but right now I’m going for quantity over quality.

“You get one minute before I disintegrate you,” he growls.

“Look, we don’t want to antagonize-” I wave my forelegs in front of me.

“Fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-six,” counts Magnus.

“Someone is attacking alicorns and other targets possessing divine power, and using some sort of draining magic to likely steal it. Queen Novo, princess Cadance, and princess Luna got attacked, and before Lunna passed out she ident-” Cromach corrects himself, “-she mentioned you. We don’t know why.”

Magnus marches over to Cromach, and in a flash of bright, pure white telekinetic light, he grabs Cromach by his chin.

“Do I look like an idiot to you? DO I?!” he jabs Cromach’s chest. Considering he’s smaller than the griffon, he is still managing to be far more menacing, “Do I look like someone DUMB ENOUGH to just go and start randomly draining divinity from completely unrelated targets?”

“Ummm, no?” Three squaks, unsure what to do face to face with someone so… un-huggable.

“See? That guy knows that!” Magnus facehoofs, “Look, you idiots, it’s obvious you don’t know shit about magic, divinity, or laws of reality, and same goes for the moron who is attacking your royalty.”

“I think Celestia suspected that you were trying to get your divinity back because you lost it at some point,” says Cromach in as calm tone as he can muster.

“THEN I WOULD BE ATTACKING THAT PURPLE PAIN IN THE ASS SHE TURNED INTO AN ALICORN, NOT SOME RANDOM ASSORTMENT OF DIVINE WANNABES. TAKING DIVINITY ISN’T LIKE MAKING A SALAD, A CARROT HERE, A TOMATO THERE, SOME DRESSING, AND BOOM!” Magnus sits down, waving his forelegs to the roof, “Okay, okay… you’re gonna need a new heart again if you let every braindead idiot’s idea get to you,” he takes several deep breaths, “I’ll try to explain it in simple terms for you. First, I didn’t lose my divinity, I didn’t leave it behind a couch somewhere, and I damn well didn’t have it stolen like all those idiots you’re whining about. I gave it up. Can you imagine how stars-damn irritating it was to have to fight some Discord’s creation, Nightmare’s possessed crybaby, or just some dumbass who figured out how to use the void to create an asymetrical energy pull and wanted to become an alicorn? Yeah, I gave up my divinity to have some PEACE AND QUIET TO THINK ABOUT THINGS. I could get test subjects whenever I wanted, I didn’t need some wannabe heroes or villains throwing themselves at me all the time.”

“Ooookay?” Cromach says quietly. He opted against his original idea of ‘Are we supposed to believe that?’, “So about the current draining attacks… you said it was easy and happened often, I get it.”

“Yes, draining is easy. Surviving it is the hard part. You’re fucking with the ultimate primal energy, basically. If someone actually managed to drain an alicorn completely without being attuned to their particular type of divinity, the power would twist them mentally and physically into someone completely different, and that’s the perfect end, one in billions chance. And don’t worry, what would happen next would be some other alicorns noticing, and you’d have five of them knocking on your door, rather worried about their own safety, and by worried I mean ready to make sure your draining days are over.”

“What if someone managed to defeat the other five and drain them too? Maybe by taking the power of some top-tier alicorn first,” asks Cromach, “Let’s say someone like Void.”

“If someone touched Void they would die immediately, but I accept your theoretical premise. The potential winner of the fight would have six completely different divinities in them each struggling to shape them into their image. Simply put, the amount of conflicting power would destroy their body, their mind, and on top of that their soul as well. No resurrection, no actual power, only pain on a level you can’t even begin to imagine.”

“So whoever is draining the royals doesn’t know what’s going to happen?” I ask.

“Pretty much. If the drained royals survive the process, they will still be the most compatible wielders, so their power will return to them after the thief inevitably melts from the inside. And if they royals die, new alicorns will appear eventually,” Magnus shrugs, “It’s a problem that will sort itself out on its own.”

“Wait, that doesn’t add up...” Cromach furrows his brows, “What about someone like Blazing Light or Tirek? You examined Blaze in Manehattan, you know what he could do.”

“I wanted to get Blazing here and examine him properly, but noooooo, you just had to keep him to save the reality as we know it,” Magnus huffs, “Now we won’t know how he did what he did. My best guess is that he was just someone whose special talent was energy manipulation in the first place, and who got lucky in getting exposed to survivable amounts of divinity his body got accustomed to. Being the eventual alicorn of something as vaguely defined as Hope helped too. Cutie mark magic is closely tied to destiny which is something not even the gods know. As for Tirek, he’s irrelevant. He can’t hold divinity properly. He just drains everything, has some fun, and then eventually it radiates back into reality. That’s why he continuously needs to keep devouring to stay in his roided form.”

“What if the draining creature was an undead?” asks Cromach.

“That doesn’t change squat, other than that the part with divinity ripping your soul to pieces would come sooner-” Magnus stops himself, and rolls his eyes, “Oh… let me guess, some lich who thought undeath would mean immortality, but now can’t handle the deal he got into and is trying to return to true life by wishing, which is basically what using divinity is. Amateurs… been there, done that,” he shrugs, “Doesn’t work in the long term.”

“You… un-undeaded yourself?” Cromach blinks.

“That kind of language makes me want to re-dead myself,” Magnus groans, “Look, the only way to achieve eternal life, I mean actual life, not undeath, not switching hosts, and not creating constructs is perfect regeneration or natural divinity. No one else but me can do the regeneration, because simply put, no one has the basic knowledge, the talent, and the time to work it out. It took me millions of years of experimentation on others and then on myself when I figured out my creator would eventually want to pull his divinity out of me anyway. Standard, self-cast regeneration spells can’t heal the brain, because you’re changing the cells you’re using to cast the spell itself. And using others just hits the same wall of having to be immortal in the first place to have the time to invent the spell, plus without the caster actually fully knowing the target. Anyway, I’m not sharing the knowledge,” he taps his temple.

I sigh.

“So this whole trip was a big bust, and in the meantime my guys can be fighting some powerful undead who can attack princesses within the confines of their castle without fear...”

“By definition, undead can’t feel fear,” Magnus shrugs. He looks at me and Cromach now silently pondering the situation, and Three watching a table filled with bubbling and foaming lab equipment, “Ughhhh, fine… how did the attacks happen?”

“The first one happened in the Crystal Empire castle,” I answer, unsure where he’s going with that question, “The enemy made the whole castle fall asleep. We found somepony in princess Cadance’s bedroom, and when we attacked the figure, it broke and some black shadow thingy fled the scene. The next one happened inside Canterlot castle, pretty much the same other than the sleep spell affecting only one floor. And the third one, the attack on Luna, happened just outside the castle. I’m not sure what exactly happened-”

“The lich attacked Luna in the dream realm, then a pocket dimension, and finally they managed to drain her almost completely in the real world. She raised the alarm in time for the Nightguards to arrive. At this point, the lich had a flesh golem with him, one of Celestia’s ex-paladins.”

“Then the situation looks pretty clear to me,” Magnus fiddles with the alchemy table, and purple bubbles burst out from a beaker, much to Three’s visible joy, “Both castles use global magical wards for protection. After Twilight kicked Sombra’s ass, and later when Blazing Light stopped the mirror world invasion, unicorn wizards from the United Orders were sent to scrub the Crystal castle for Sombra’s magic, and to set up a set of wards similar to Canterlot castle in order for the Royal Guards transferred north to be easily able to use magic in there and teach the crystal ponies wanting to serve under Cadance. I’d say that the Crystal castle’s wards aren’t as complex as the layers on the one in Canterlot, simply because they’re fresh, so the lich was able to affect the whole castle with the sleep spell using those as power source.”

“Wait, using the castle’s own protection wards as source for a spell affecting the castle?” Cromach furrows his brows.

“Well duh,” Magnus gives him a flat glance, “What do you think the wards do? They focus magic. Usually into huge shields in case of invasions, into detection spells for general security, or simply act as magical reserves for the magic users inside. It’s not difficult for someone who knows the structure of the wards to weave in a little trigger for some different magic, or use the ward influence to cast a simple spell at much greater effect.”

“Ohhhhhhhh!” Cromach hums, nodding, “So that’s what you’re getting at. Since the lich knew the structure of wards both in the Crystal Empire and in Canterlot, it had to be someone who had something to do with setting the wards up in the first place, right? Someone from the United Orders of Wizardry?”

“Bingo!” Magnus smiles for the first time, apparently pleased with Cromach’s accurate guess, “Now, I don’t particularly care for mortal problems, but I would be careful of the shadows if I were you. To me it looks like the lich was using asymmetric energy transfer via opening small portals to the void. The fact that shadows are slipping in means he can’t control those properly.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand pretty much anything from what you just said,” I shake my head when Cromach looks lost in thought now, “What part are you bothered about if it’s not the lich draining the power of alicorns?”

“That he’s incompetent!” Magnus rolls his eyes, “You see, energy draining spells in their most basic and dangerous form work like this - you open a gate to the void which sucks in energy in all forms, which means matter, magic, divinity, anything, and then you intercept the flow before the energy disappears through the gate forever. Void, the place not the alicorn, is something extremely difficult and dangerous to research, so even I don’t know too much about it, but there’s one crucial thing to understand, and that is that opening portals to the void is the easy part, closing them is the difficult one. And if you screw up that part, the portal can swallow you and everything around. In theory, even a small void rift if left unchecked can grow big enough to swallow the whole reality. That’s why I’m helping you. Some idiot sucking off princesses isn’t on my radar, but if he’s using void portals and shadows are slipping through already, it would be a good idea to stop him before he bites off more than he can chew, and destroys the whole existence on accident. It’s hard doing research on magic, divinity, and reality itself when it all stops existing.”

“Oh fuck...” Cromach suddenly facehoofs, “Lich, a LICH, the damn thing on his neck was a PHYLACTERY! I’m such an idiot! That’s why they never found a corpse, they just thought he died under the cave-in. He even worked on the castle wards in the first place. I thought Celestia had the protections altered after last year… that lazy fatass.”

“You know who the attacker is?” I ask.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s all coming together. His original interest in my divinity, the stolen twin rings of restoration, a fleshcrafted revenant, the attack in Manehattan. Pocket dimension, shadows, divine targets...”

“Cromach, who is it?”

“It has to be Arcane Hex,” he breathes out.

***

“Plasmatic projectiles detected,” Stompy jumps forward behind a pillar with speed never before seen from him. A second later, blasts of something yellowish-green scorch the brown walls of the Citadel. Even hidden behind a corner, Five can feel the searing heat from the projectiles.

The Citadel has been proving to be far more dangerous than anything before. The rifle zombies, minigun zombies, or even the imps, pinkys, and burning skulls were something Five or Nine could charge head-first, but now… not anymore.

“Leave this to me!” Ten rushes into a large, round courtyard with a circle of pillars holding an overhang all around the courtyard’s circumference when he sees a hail of guided rockets from several of those tall skeletons aimed into the entry hallway where the group are hiding.

The rockets immediately target him just as another blast of plasma sears the left pillar he hides behind. Unfortunately, dodging the guided missiles isn’t that simple, so Ten has to run into the courtyard in full view of the skeletons and two more types of horrifying monstrosities. He stops in front of the pillar, and then teleports behind it with a satisfying series of explosions shaking the masonry. The pillar holds firm, though.

He immediately transfers the assessment of the situation he saw while running via the hive links to Five, Seven, and Nine, knowing they’d inform WooD.

“Five rocket skeletons, three of those fat flamethrower guys, and one whatever that looks like a brain with spider legs,” the images of the exact positions of the monsters follow, “Too bad all those are resistant to Stompy’s lasers. Everything here is.”

“Well, at least they aren’t completely immune,” replies Five, “Seven, I’ll need a fire resistance spell. Ten, when I tell you, you draw another volley of rockets. We’ll have few seconds while the skeletons are reloading,” she pulls out the stolen minigun from her beard, and tosses it to WooD, saying, “This isn’t a melee situation, big guy. Target the fatties. Stompy, focus the spider when you have open line of fire.”

“Fireproofing spell won’t protect you from the spider brain’s plasma,” says Seven, but weaves the protective magic nonetheless.

“Hopefully it won’t have to.”

“What about me?” asks Nine.

“You hold this,” she tosses her fake beard to him,” And wait here in case some wall opens and demons attack from the back,” she sighs, “That seems to be the theme of this place - monster closets. ALRIGHT, TEN, GO GO GO!”

Ten runs from behind his pillar.

“Hey, skellies!” he calls out, which is instantly answered by a volley of rockets. Ten’s horn flashes, and with a scream and burst holy fire, one of the skeletons crumbles on the ground, “Don’t mess with a palad- aaaaaaaaaaaaa!” he teleports away as a one rocket misses him by a hair, its heat caressing his chitin, and turns back at him, “Okay, no more taunting.”

At the same time, Five’s carapace is burning green, its top layers turning into a complex fireproof material aided by Seven’s fire resistance spell. Next are her lungs drawing in more and more breath in expectations of air soon to be incinerated around her. As she quickly runs forward, the three unbelievably broad and fat bipeds with a flamethrower instead of each hand aim at her, unleashing a flaring firestorm.

To cover Five, Stompy and WooD jump out of the wide pillar they’ve both been hiding behind, both aiming at the spider brain, twin particle beams and a hail of minigun bullets quickly answered by the spider’s plasma. WooD spins back behind the pillar as the plasma blasts scorch its surface. As soon as the burning firepower retargets at Stompy, he jumps out again and resumes the suppressing fire, switching with the mech.

The rock-liquifying fire of the six flamethrowers never stops, not even as the nightmarish vision of a black equine third of the fat demons’ height walks through the flames, mouth closed but spread into a bloodthirsty grin. The flamethrowers don’t stop even as she walks over to the first demon and her hoof glowing red from the accumulated heat punches through the demon with ease, leaving behind a seared hole. Only when her following left hook rips through the fat demon from his gut to his head, one pair of flamethrowers stop belching molten death. Two more to go.

Ten teleports behind one skeleton whose jaw drops when faced with a stacked cloud of rockets following the changeling. With a flick of his horn, Ten casually casts a specialized banishment spell which easily destroys the magic holding a different skeleton together, divine flames devouring that target within seconds. He has to teleport away again, because while the rockets obliterated the first skeleton with ease, there’s simply too many of them following Ten.

With a distorted screech, the spider legs of the brain demon fold under it, followed by furious scream of:

“FOR THE EMPEROR!”

WooD doesn’t stop shooting at the spider brain as he runs on three legs, turning the demon into mush. However, Seven notices it’s not just blind rage. WooD is destroying the brain matter, but leaving the plasma weapon lodged in the spider’s mechanical torso intact.

Five simply runs through the final living fat demon, the heat of the unstopping flamethrowers enough to leave a blazing hole in the demon’s body as even it crumbles, and the fire finally stops.

Seven has finally figured out the specialized paladin spell Ten has been using, and added his own quick improvements on the go. The final two skeletons turn to dust, leaving behind only their rocket launcher shoulderpads.

They look around the scorched courtyard filled with blood and gore. As Five cools down, she notes down few things. One, the demons aren’t smart or use strategy. They will just attack whatever is in range. Two, their weapons have seemingly unlimited ammunition. Probably something to do with the rules of Tartarus. And three, other than having some resistance to heat and tough skin, they seem to be as vulnerable as anyone.

The problem lies elsewhere. The physical perfection of changelings is proving insurmountable even for the demonic hordes, which makes Five smile. Ten feels her joy and understands. If Chrysalis had any idea how powerful changelings could really be, she would have taken over the world ages ago. However, their vulnerability lies in the inability to regain love here, or even lust. The friendship bonds between the changelings have been enough to keep them from running out, but that can’t last forever, and there’s no telling how many enemies still stand between them and Six.

*Thud!*

“That’s stompier than Stompy,” comments Seven, looking around for the source of the fresh repeating noise slowly drawing closer.

“What are the chances of whatever it is being friendly?” asks Nine, knowing the well that answer is zero.

“Scatter and hide!” orders Five, and everyone find their own pillar to hide behind. The heavy steps are punctuated by loud buzzing of electronics, and now seem to be coming from the other side of the courtyard.

The noise stops.

“Okaaay?” Five doesn’t dare speak out loud, “Stay put!”

She immediately likes WooD for his discipline, because he doesn’t need mental orders, he can just read the movements of the rest of the group with ease. An experienced soldier, likely one who spent more time in combat operations than Five’s been alive.

Seconds pass, accompanied by the stomping from behind the wall ahead.

Nothing.

Five breathes in, breathes out, and waits.

A minute passes.

Maybe whatever is behind the wall simply heard something but doesn’t know how to get to them?

“Remain still...” Five’s gut says otherwise.

She smiles victoriously when a chaotic cacophony of undeterminable noise erupts from the center of the courtyard along with a huge sphere of green and yellow light, leaving behind…

...a spider brain, but one as big as a two-story house, the top of its leathery brain matter almost reaching the height of the overhang. Well, if the one before was a brain, this one could be the mastermind.

It turns around on its mechanical spider legs, scanning the area for any targets. If there is a good thing about the situation, it’s that it seems that Five’s patience saved them from having to run between the spider mastermind’s huge legs. Plus, it could be quite possible that the spider legs won’t be able to reach under the overhang and behind the pillars.

“Maybe we won’t have to fight,” transmits Five, “See the metal doors to the left and right? I’ll turn invisible and check those out. Stay where you are.”

Silently, Five disappears, hoping that the mastermind won’t be able to detect her, because the invisibility transformation and soft hooves for sneaking don’t leave any way to harden her chitin. She’s basically defenseless like this.

It takes her about a minute of careful sneaking counter-clockwise to get to the metal door on the right. She touches it. It buzzes, but doesn’t move.

The noise makes the huge spider turn with surprising speed, and as soon as Five hears the buzzing and hissing of the hydraulics of the mastermind’s legs, she jumps behind the nearest pillar, narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets hitting the door.

“Okay, this one has a minigun,” she says mentally, “And is a lot faster than its size should allow. Be careful. Oh, and the damn door is locked, so I suppose the other one will be as well.”

“So, do we have to kill it to proceed?” asks Nine.

“We’ll at least need to kill it so that we can safely look around,” Five shrugs, shifting her chitin again into the anti-ballistic combat variant. With a frown, she realizes that Nine still has her beard of holding, “Nine, you have my weapons. I need some time to recover before I switch from tough reinforcement to invisibility again. Moments like these make me wish I was an infiltrator. Going from super hard to super soft makes my head ache.”

On the other side of the courtyard, Ten offers:

“We can see if the big guy is also sturdier than the one before. I’ll try something to distract it. Nine will be able to run to you in the meantime.”

“Worth a shot,” Five shrugs, “We’ll have to test its durability at some point anyway.”

Ten takes a deep breath.

“GO!” he orders, peeks from behind his pillar, and releases a beam of sunlight from his horn.

The mastermind turns with its unnatural speed…

...but not towards Ten.

Nine needs only several seconds to get to Five. Unfortunately, that’s the time he doesn’t get, because this demon seems to be smart. In hindsight, the big brain should have been a clue.

A hail of bullets from the huge minigun set in front of the mastermind shoots Nine’s leg with precision, the leg on which he was just about to land. Nine loses balance and rolls, only for the bullets to push him against the wall, busting shards of breaking chitin out of him.

Hive mind time stops.

“We need to help Nine,” orders Five.

“No,” Nine disagrees with a grim expression, “This one isn’t like the zombie miniguns. If I can’t stand it, none of you can. You need to distract the mastermind to hurt it.”

“Nine-”

“Five, I was already dead. You and Ten gave me the chance to find out that my original death wasn’t in vain, that my new hive survived under our little drone boss, and lived to see the peace between ponies and changelings. I am a warrior, Five. I serve the hive.”

“Seven, Ten, can’t you host his mind or soul or something to resurrect him back home?” Five raises her mental voice, straining to keep the time stopped.

“I’m dead myself, if you didn’t notice. I’m sorry,” whispers Ten.

“I’m sorry,” Seven’s eyes water, “I’m just… too bad at mind tricks. I’m sorry I’m such a shit infiltrator...”

The hive communiation is broken by Nine himself, and the warrior returns to the painful reality of his body being shot to pieces. The huge bullets rip out chunks of him, but there’s only one thing he needs to do now, which is to pour his love into his forelegs, and throw the beard. He doesn’t slowly bleed out to feel his consciousness slip away, as the next precise bullet splatters his head on the wall.

“Don’t move!” calls out Seven for WooD and Stompy.

Five, grinding her teeth, catches the beard.

“I will destroy you and that bitch who took Six!”

The laughing spider mastermind, satisfied with its work, starts turning towards Ten whose magical beam doesn’t seem to be doing much. The infiltrator hides behind the pillar again. The mastermind simply stops, aiming its minigun at Ten’s pillar. Considering its speed and accuracy, trying anything would be a suicide.

In the ensuing silence, Five puts her beard on.

“Listen and obey,” is all she says to Seven and Ten, connecting their minds.

Seven creates an illusion of Ten which rushes from behind his pillar, immediately pursued by minigun bullets.

“Stompy!” shouts Five, making the mastermind let the illusion go and turn around.

The mech shuffles from behind a completely different pillar, of course, the twin particle beams immediately drilling into the mastermind’s brain. The wounds spew yellow goo, and the mastermind screeches, backpeddling with its legs.

WooD sees an opportunity, and shows himself with the stolen plasma gun, immediately spinning back bahind the pillar as bullets ricochet off of it.

“Smart bastard,” curses the griffon, “It was faking all this time.”

Ten conjures a flaming sword which buries itself in the mastermind’s brain, scoring a deep groove. However, just the sheer size of the mastermind makes it too difficult for a normal-sized sword to cause any significant damage to the fleshy mass.

The paladin receives Five’s next order, and shows himself, the direct field of vision giving much more power to his sword strikes.

The mastermind turns towards him, hitting Stompy with few bullets on the way and denting his armor plating before the mech returns behind his pillar.

Ten offers a short prayer to Celestia’s booty, stopping himself from immediately hiding behind his pillar again. It takes serious willpower, and also changeling cooperation to stand there, magically hacking away at the huge spider, and dodge only when the first bullet is finally aimed straight at him.

This is what Seven needs, though, to accurately target and focus his magic.

A lightning bolt not of magical scale, but one of those thick pillars of brilliant light breaking the sky and the world during a wild thunderstorm. One could say it’s a lightning on a frighteningly natural scale. It strikes the mastermind, for a fraction of a second connecting Seven’s horn and the demon.

The electronic screech of agony is real this time, and that’s when Five rolls out from behind her pillar with the assembled laser gatling turret. The demonc flesh might be resistant to heat, but its legs are metal, and that’s what Five is aiming for, melting off one leg of the paralyzed demon after another. It finally decides between Seven and Five, and starts turning towards her. It lacks the legs, though, and it collapses in a heap on the ground, unable to do more than push itself along the floor.

WooD takes the opportunity to charge at the mastermind, ramming his plasma gun’s barrel straight where the electronics of the huge minigun join the brown, rotting brain matter, and pulls the trigger.

The demon’s screeching goes louder and louder until it finally collapses into a gurgle, and the spider mastermind goes quiet with one final twitch of its legs.

Everything goes silent other than two hisses of both previously locked courtyard doors opening.

Five looks at Nine’s devastated remains. The changelings exchange thoughts, and know there’s nothing to say. Nine’s last words were enough. Although, to everyone’s surprise, WooD quickly salutes in Nine’s direction, and returns to chopping the brain.

“Finally someone who understood it,” she mutters to herself, “For the hive, brother.”

“Did you say something?” asks Ten, approaching and rubbing his horn.

“Nothing,” she shakes her head, “I just regret not having met Nine in the real world. Let’s move on before we attract something worse than that thing,” she spits on the mastermind, “Hey, WooD, that minigun is too big even for you.”

The griffon looks at the weapon thicker than his barrel along with the power armor still partially buried in the brain matter, and has to admit that Five might be right. He sheds a single tear of unfulfilled dakka, kicks the closest chunk of the shredded brain, and follows Five out of the courtyard.

***

“Who is Arcane Hex?” I ask.

Cromach shakes his head.

“A very powerful unicorn wizard, that’s all you really need to know. Last year, he was behind a theft of two powerful rings that my team investigated. We eventually found him, and we fought in the old Canterlot mountain mines. Connie blew up some explosives which collapsed a part of a tunnel on us. I barely survived thanks to rocks getting stuck above me and the help of my divinity, and we assumed Arcane Hex got crushed. Magic or not, he was an old unicorn. As far as I know, the investigators didn’t find a body, because digging in the old mines could collapse far bigger chunk of the central shaft. Celestia was supposed to order the remaking of Canterlot castle protective wards after that, but in light of Arcane Hex’s death she must have opted just to see if they weren’t openly compromised,” Cromach facetalons, “We need to get back to Canterlot. Magnus-”

“Yeah yeah, whatever gets you out of here the quickest,” the archmage waves his foreleg, “Come on. I happen to have a secret portal in Ponyville.”

“Wish Celestia could have sent us that way instead of to Zeph’s,” I sigh.

“A changeling should understand what secret means...” grumbles Magnus.

“Where does it lead?” asks Cromach, “I wouldn’t want to end up in the city vault or something.”

“Twilight’s library,” he shrugs, “I have to keep an eye on that idiot. She’s the kind of pony who would cause an apocalypse during her research just to see what happens. Plus, you know, as the original alicorn of Magic, I feel obliged to track her progress.”

Several floating mirrors appear in the air, each taller than me and wider than Cromach’s shoulders, they shift around Magnus, and all but one disappear.

“Thank you for the visit. Now get the fuck out, and don’t come back unless the world is ending, in which case I would already know,” guided by the motion of Magnus’s foreleg, the mirror floats in front of us.

“You first,” I nod at Cromach. He touches it, and disappears.

I do the same, everything blurs, and I momentarily lose connection to Three. Only for a while, though.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” the first thing I hear is a horrified mare’s scream of pain.

***

Five jumps out of a portal, feeling a fraction of a microsecond of shock as her hooves touch soft grass, and she can smell the fresh air of a spring in the Crystal Empire. Of course, this isn’t the Crystal Empire, but the area she can see, while still surrounded by the strange blurred mountains in the distance and under blood-red sky, is a beautiful, grassy flatland with a forest behind her. No rivers of blood, no magma pools inside a technologically advanced complex, no groaning or growling, only a beautiful, fresh landscape.

She sniffs, and narrows her eyes.

There is the faint but unmistakable heavy mix of scents related to sex in all forms, a changeling like her would recognize it anywhere. It contains everything from parfumes, the smell of heat, sweat, juices, aphrodisiacs, and to Five even the air here is like… food.

The others appear behind her, looking around with equal amount of confusion. However, as changelings, the mind strictly made to instantly analyze battlegrounds has finished its inspection by the time the infiltrators had time to take a breath, and Five has trasmitted her assumptions about the area to the others.

“We made it to the succubus Pit,” confirms Ten based on Five’s observations, mostly for Stompy and WooD.

Five licks her lips, looks into the distance at a palace with tall, thin towers covered in pink mist, pulls out a rocket launcher from her beard, and fastens it to her back. The lust permeating the whole place is making her whole body tingle. In fact, all three changelings look as if green sparks were arcing through their carapaces from time to time now.

“I’m tired of this,” she growls, ”I’ve got a weapon fully loaded with phallic shapes, and I’m not afraid to use it. Keep your eyes peeled.”

It doesn’t take long to reach the high walls and closed gate of the palace. What stops them, though, is some twenty pony-lengths wide “moat” which makes Ten’s eyes widen.

There’s no water in it, no blood, magma, nor semen as one would expect of this place. There are butts. A floating river of butts. Just disembodied butts of all sizes and shapes, sometimes with parts of thighs. Not chopped butts, or some corpse remains, just soft, fleshy, squishy, perfect-

Ten dives in and buries his muzzle into a crack of a huge, smooth one, nuzzling and motorboating it. Motorbooty-ing maybe? The fleshy mass grips him, his legs immediately being dragged deeper int othe spaces between the butts.

“TEN?!” Five yells, stunned by Ten’s sudden motion.

“Go without me! Let my sacrifice be a warning to you about the dangers of this place!” yells Ten, his voice muffled by the fact that he’s rolled over to a clearly pony butt to the side, its cheeks bigger than his head.

Five floats above him, and tries to grab his barrel. A golden kick of telekinesis flicks her forelegs away.

“Get a grip, Ten!” she raises her voice, and tries again, her forelegs slipping on the telekinetic shield again, “Just let me grab you!”

“No, it’s over for me, there’s too much squishy, soft, supple, and gripping flesh dragging me down! You could get caught too,” Ten pulls one of his hooves up, only to squeeze a sporty, toned booty floating by.

“I can levitate you up!” says Seven, his horn flashing green. Ten’s golden light deflects Seven’s attempt as well, “Oh come on!”

“No, there’s no time. With every word, the chance of saving Six is growing fainter,” replies Ten, giving Seven an absolutely insane glare as his jaw is open, drooling green saliva over the nearby plots and butts, some of which can’t belong to ponies, not that it matters to Ten.

Seven tries to pull Ten again, who grabs a butt the size of his torso, and rolls under it, only his groping forelegs and crazy face visible.

“Oh nooooo,” Ten exclaims, “I’m doomed, the pull is getting too strong for telekinesis. Go on while you still can!”

“STOP THINKING WITH YOUT DICK, TEN! SIX IS WAITING AND STOMPY CAN SHOOT YOU A HOOK AND PULL YOU OUT!” screams Five from the top of her lungs.

Ten blinks multiple times, growls, tries to pull himself out…

...and a butt hits him. It’s a glorious white one, complete with the solar cutie mark, only bigger, rounder, softer yet tighter for its size, and its hair smoother than anything Celestia could ever be. Ten’s eyes glaze over.

“I WAS DEAD ALREADY, FIVE! THAT ONE’S BIGGER AND FIRMER THAN CELESTIA’S! IF YOU TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME I’LL HAUNT YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR SORRY LIFE, FLAT-ASS!”

The butt sinks under thousands of others, dragging Ten resisting only all attempts at saving him lodged in its crack down into the fleshy mass with it. His hive link dissolves into a pink mess of uncontrolled lust and pleasure infesting both Five and Seven who have to cut their connections to stop themselves from turning into drooling, sex-crazed maniacs here and now.

A shiver runs down Five’s spine as she realizes that the danger of this place doesn’t have to be in bigger and deadlier demons. No, the true enemies here are their own demons and desires.

“I’m not flat, am I?” she mutters, turning her head back to look at her butt. It’s tight, yet big enough for an efficient warrior.

“Six loves you no matter what,” Seven, floating next to her, pats her shoulder.

Five’s chitin flashes, and her chiseled posterior balloons out a little, and turns rounder. Maybe some more cushion without losing strength would be worth it. Perhaps she could also narrow her waits, grow proper hanging breasts, thicker lips…

She shakes her head, realizing that this place got to her through her doubts. If she let her thoughts wander, she would use her shapeshifting skills to end up like a bloated sex doll for Six or anyone willing to use her...

With a deep breath, she tries to concentrate on the mission. She keeps her new plot, though.

“Focus on duty, focus on the hive,” she says, her realization and message seeping into Seven, “I’m doing this for Six, for Six, for Six. He will rail me as much as I want when we get home. Everyone alive will return to the hive. I will not fail the boss, I will not fail One, I will not fail Six. I will not fail MYSELF.”

Five aims her rocket launcher at the ornate gate behind the moat, gritting her teeth.

“What are you-”

Four explosions send the twisted metal into the revealed palace courtyard, ripping the gate to shreds along with its hinges.

Scowling, Five reloads, and enters the courtyard, not giving a single glance to the others.

“I will kill everyone between me and Six,” she growls.

Behind her, with the help of Seven’s telekinesis, Stompy’s energy jets help him fly over the butt moat, and WooD’s powerful wings take him with his plasma gun and power armor across as well.

The courtyard is lively and pleasant, like a garden promenade with many snaking trails, erotic statues and pleasure demons using them as toys, filled benches, pools with couples or groups enjoying themselves, and overall nice atmosphere of eternity of casual sex with infinite stamina. On the other side of the courtyard lies a big, wooden gate leading into the palace itself. Amusingly, the only one with the knowledge of the used architecture heavy on domes and tall, narrow towers is agent WooD who would identify it as being from the states on the southeastern border of the Griffon Empire, the old Maresia. It, however, is also a scene of somewhat controlled chaos, which for once doesn’t seem to be caused by the changelings.

Correction - not by Five’s group of changelings.

As previously stated, there are succubi, incubi, and their victims dragged here, all of various shapes doing inspiring, inventive, and doubtlessly pleasurable things to each other, or using anything that can be stuck where it should or even shouldn’t go. Five gives a raised eyebrow to a red, furry, bipedal succubus sliding down a lamp post with her legs spread, the lit lamp showing its progress through the demonette’s skin where it eventually leaves through her mouth, finally muffling the female’s pleased moaning. No blood, no death, no concern for inner organs, just pure pleasure.

That’s the essence of the succubus palace.

As for the chaotic part…

“Comfort?” Seven blinks several times, completely taken aback by Comfort in her changeling form running around, pink gateways bursting out of pentagrams appearing behind her every few seconds.

“NOT NOW, BUSY!” she runs around a golden pony incubus sitting on a bench and reading a book, his leathery wings spread as a unicorn mare services his nether regions. He looks up in confusion…

…then Comfort’s kick sends him and his paramour tumbling right into the open portal which swallows them.

Another one opens in the next instant.

“CRAAAAAAP! WHY AM I SO GOOD AT MY JOB?!” Comfort backflips into a pool, the pink glow of the reopening portal shines through the shallow water, and in the next moment the portal swallows the water as well as the two frolicking succubi inside like a drained bathtub. Comfort manages to crawl out on the grass despite the pull, and takes a breath of relief as no portal opens within the next ten seconds this time, “That took forever...”

She looks up when she spots two sets of changeling legs, and two more metallic sets approach her.

“Comfort? What are you doing here?” asks Five on reflex.

“I’m a succubus, take a wild guess,” Comfort pushes herself back on all fours, and looks around with undisguised paranoia, “Hmmm, sixteen closed summonings this time. Anyway, the real question is why you are here, right?” she furrows her brows when looking at WooD, “Hey, don’t I know you?”

“Agent WooD. I met you in the pony Castle of Two Sisters,” replies WooD calmly, “You tried to seduce me. You failed.”

“Oh riiiiight… soooo, big guy, wanna try round tw-”

“No,” WooD shoots her down instantly, “I’m obliged to assist these changelings in their mission, then I’m going back to the Griffon Empire. I can’t afford any further distractions.”

“Some succubus kidnapped Six,” explains Five, “I want to find him and bring him back. I was asking about you running from the portals, not you being here.”

“Oh, I see. I don’t know how to reject summonings, so whenever some happen, I just try to grab the nearest demon and throw them through the gate instead,” she points at WooD, “Anyway, I get you, Seven, and Stompy being here, but that guy?”

“I gave him One’s sword,” Five shrugs, “I will apologize to her and the boss later, and face my punishment. If we get Six back, it’s worth it. I’m not returning without him.”

“Say no more,” Comfort smiles, and pats Five’s head, “Besides, now that Silversmith technology research is legal in Brauheim again, the dwarves will make a better sword soon anyway. Let’s go save tech bug.”

A silvery, equine succubus with coat so smooth it looks and must feel like oil trails the tip of her wing on what’s technically Stompy’s underbelly.

“Got some attachments that would sate poor old me?” she asks, voice dripping like honey.

“My chassis is a war machine. I wasn’t equipped with anything of that sort,” replies Stompy.

“Hmm, that won’t do,” the succubus pouts. Her whole body starts glowing, and after a short while Stompy senses a new addition to his undercarriage, “Now this is something the demons here don’t have.”

Without a second thought, she turns around and impales herself on Stompy’s new equipment.

To the mech’s utter surprise, the entire act does feel somewhat pleasant despite the fact that there are no nerves or artifical brain constructs to convey the feeling. Deciding that since the succubus deserves something for not being hostile, he puts his attachment to the test.

The tip of his robothood flares, locking the succubus firmly in place. Stompy examines the new algorhitms - multi-motor vibrations, heating and cooling, electricity, spinning… so many tests to run later. Unfortunately, it would be too difficult to find a test subject of size that could take his new gear in the real world, so he decides to just turn everything on at once while the succubus is available.

“Oh my ghnghghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” the succubus’ eyes cross, her jaw drops, and she goes completely limp within a second, drooling and gurgling, “Iwannastaylikethisforeverrrrrrr...”

“Interesting,” comments Stompy, turning back towards the group with his succubus cargo making silly noises under him.

“Put it back, you don’t know where it’s been,” Comfort rolls her eyes at Stompy, but can’t help smirking at the succubus whose intelligence is rapidly melting out of her mouth and crotch, “Thought I doubt they have some robot STD around.”

“I am testing my new carrying capacity as well,” replies Stompy simply, “I should have conclusive results in several minutes.”

“I’mmmm g’nnna splode with happy...” the succubus keeps drooling.

“Fine, let’s go then,” Comfort shrugs, “Look, the current succubus queen who took over after Scream disappeared will know where Six is. She’s inside the palace, but even I couldn’t get in before. She’s obscenely powerful while she’s in there, and very well guarded.”

Five pats her rocket launcher.

“We’ll figure out a way.”

“No no no no,” says a calm, female voice which nonetheless spreads all over the courtyard, “You’ve made enough mess all over the place already, so I say this ends here and now.”

“Now that’s a commanding and confident voice if ever I heard one,” Comfort smiles, “I guess you’ve managed to lure the head slut out.”

The group look around as they hear now unpleasantly familiar heavy thudding intertwined with the buzzing of electronics of steps reminiscent of the spider mastermind. This sound is slightly different, as if this time the walker had only two legs, and was a lot heavier.

The ornate gold-decorated gate leading inside the succubus palace opens, letting out a massive biped that would put whatever god the minotaurs worship to shame. Granted, considering that Rift minotaurs worship a pony that isn’t the best description, but if the minotaurs worshipped a huge version of one of them with limbs and torso enhanced by electronics and armor plating, this would be it. A huge demon with cybernetic enhancements - a cyberdemon. On his shoulder sits a bipedal figure the size and broadness of a minotaur warrior, but clearly not built for fighting, unless one counts the sweaty wrestling of the bed kind. Five has to admit that the bipedal form gives a lot more space for breasts, hair, long legs, and toned abs than pony form would, which is why so many succubi around seem to prefer those. She decides to try it on Six at some point.

The succubus flies into the air with the help of two pink, bat-like wings, and points at the group. With her other arm, she makes a circle in the air. In a flash of light, a golden cage appears, hosting a comparatively very small, black, curled-up shape.

“SIX!” screams Five. The changeling doesn’t move.

“Well, well, well, a quest for love and lust, soon to be failed,” the succubus queen chuckles, “This little critter is mine now. My little pet to train, to get him addicted to everything about me, to-”

“Stop monologuing at us, you dumb bitch,” calls out Comfort, “Now that you’ve finally hauled your comically oversized ass here, you will teach me how to refuse summonings, and since we’re here already, you will give Six back before I get really mad.”

The succubus queen now starts openly laughing.

“Oh my, the newbie has a sharp tongue,” she clicks her teeth, “You are nothing, worm! You don’t get to speak in my presence!” she snaps her fingers.

“Okay, that does it!” Comfort snarls, “Let’s see how-” her mouth doesn’t stop moving, there’s just no noise coming out. Comfort stops after a second, scowling.

“Much better,” the queen riding the towering cyberdemon stops in front the group slowly fanning out and backing off, “Now, two changelings and a machine that can cause so much pleasure it has turned a succubus into a drooling piece of meat is quite the catch-”

“I don’t have time for this,” hears Five from WooD who has shuffled close to her. She turns her head, and sees only his armored fist approaching her at lightning speed. The second of confusion is enough for WooD to shove his foreleg into her beard, and rip out the BFG. The griffon grins as he aims the huge weapon at the demon, “FOR THE EMPEROR!”

The BFG hums. The cyberdemon looks down from his height.

*WHOOMMMMMMM!*

The green ball of fusion energy cast by the BFG blasts the cyberdemon’s torso, leaving behind only a crescent moon of flesh and machinery remaining, the rest of his chest completely gone. The huge demon looks down at the hole where his torso used to be, and collapses, unable to bear his own weight...

“Whaaaaaah!”

...right onto the succubus queen.

The gilded cage containing Six softly floats down to the group, held by Seven’s telekinesis.

Six raises his head as Five grabs two bars, heaves, and rips them off.

“Six...” Five’s eyes tear up as the drone walks out of the cage, and she pulls him into an irresistible hug, “I don’t just love you. I need you.”

Six yawns, and nuzzles her neck.

“You came for me, and you even blew up the big guy, woop woop!” he punches the air in cheer after taking in the situation.

“It’s WooD,” the griffon agent measures Six whose eyes go wide in recollection.

“Ohcrap!” he blurts out.

“Don’t worry, he’s on our side now,” Five kisses Six’s nose, making him beam immediately.

“How… lovely...” they hear a loud hiss which bears the quality of ‘being heard everywhere no matter its real volume’ which belongs to the succubus queen, “The pain and suffering I will train you to love and crave will be legendary!” her hands glow bright red, and crimson lightning courses through the body of the cyberdemon, “RISE!”

The lightning intensifies, coursing through the hole in the demon’s chest, flesh regrowing with alarming speed as the demon gets up on both legs as if nothing happened, and aims the rocket launcher fastened ot his right arm at WooD.

“SCATTER!” screams Five, grasping for Six who avoids her foreleg and flies into the air.

Remembering that the majority of the group can fly freely, the other changelings and WooD take to the air as well. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work for Stompy. The first rocket hits the ground where WooD used to be, exploding into a ball of fire and shrapnel which reaches the mech. When the localized inferno dissipates, though, a pink shield surrounding Stompy which apparently protected him from the shockwave and heat disappears. The drooling succubus with her eyes rolled to the back of her head still impaled and buzzing on Stompy’s mecha dong just weakly raises one arm and gives him a thumbs up.

In response, Stompy aims his twin particle beams. Not at the cyberdemon, though.

“Suppressing fire,” he says, hitting the succubus queen quickly casting a protective barrier while being pushed through the air. She immediately tries to dodge and weave, but Stompy’s targeting is perfect, not giving her a second to retaliate.

The cyberdemon is spitting out rocket after rocket at WooD, missing and slowly breaking the outer walls protecting the courtyard. His presence and berserker rage have finally broken through the haze of lust of other demons in the courtyard gardens who stop watching the spectacle and start escaping anywhere far enough to be safe.

Five lands again to gain some support as she aims her rocket launcher again, and unloads at the cyberdemon’s leg, making him stumble and giving WooD time to recover from his constant barrel rolls and darting around.

As the griffon shakes his head, the cyberdemon screams, aiming the rocket launcher at Five. He unloads another salvo of seemingly infinite amount of rockets, but hitting Five with such projectiles as she jumps up and takes to the sky quickly proves downright impossible, so he aims at WooD, much slower in his heavy power armor, again.

In complete silence, Comfort flies behind the succubus queen completely focused on Stompy and grabs the ball of energy which is the barrier surrounding her. The queen turns around, and scowls at Comfort.

“You worthless creature,” she raises her hand glowing with pink, and points at Comfort, “I am your superior, you will obey me, my beauty, my perfection! You will drool over me, lust over me, beg me to notice you. My touch, even my breath will send you deeper into your haze of need. I am the reason for your existence, reason why you take every breath. I am the supreme being of desire. I allow you to speak now so that you can beg to keep some part of your miserable free will.”

Comfort snickers.

“You do realize I actually met Scream who was your boss and the patron of changelings face to face, right? The actual embodiment of Lust?” she presses her forelegs against the barrier, gritting her teeth, “THAT was when all my self-control, all my instincts, every mental skill I spent my life honing, everything that made me myself crumbled after only few seconds. It’s time you learned something, head slut,” the succubus queen looks at her outstretched hand in horror as the pink glow begins draining into Comfort, “I might not be the king or queen completely on top and in charge,” Comfort’s eyes glow with golden light as the changeling succubus begins drawing the pure sexual energy this reality consists of, “But I am always, ALWAYS the leader’s number one.”

The succubus queen’s barrier disappears, devoured by Comfortnow emanating shockwaves of power to burn off the lust she’s constantly draining from the area so that the queen can’t use her full power.

With a simple flick of Comfort’s hoof and a loud boom, the queen shoots through the air like a comet, and…

...is caught by the palm of the cyberdemon with a fleshy slap. His fingers wrap around her.

“Hey, miss Comfort,” she hears Six’s voice inside her head, “Since you’re so powerful, can you do the same thing that succubus did to Stompy to the cyberdemon?”

“Wait, what?” Comfort blinks, and stops the hive link time. She looks through Six’s eyes, only to see him holding onto the huge demon’s neck, six spider legs protruding from his back and fiddling with a blinking panel on the demon’s spine, “Six, what are you doing?”

“Pleeeeeeeease!” is all Six says.

Comfort shrugs, and concentrates. This place is made from divinity mixed with natural forces of lust and magic, and answers to the call of her willpower. A massive, twisted and ribbed tower of flesh and metal erupts from the cyberdemon’s crotch. He looks at the succubus queen in his palm watching the scene in horror.

“No! NO! I RULE HERE, I WON’T BE USED AS A COCK SLEEVE LIKE SOME COMMON FRESH SUCCUB- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARHGHHHH!”

The cyberdemon roars and proves the unbelievably stretchy queen wrong.

Six closes the panel on the cyberdemon’s back, flies up on his shoulder, points at the landscape now completely cratered and ruined from the fired missiles, and says:

“Now be a good boy, and while you’re playing with the ex-queen go find someone who knows how to repair all this, okay?” the cyberdemon nods, casually jerking off with the gurgling and foaming queen whose body keeps denying all laws of anatomy and physics, “AND YOU! YOU WANTED TO FUCK SOMETHING SO MUCH ALL THE TIME? THEN THIS IS WHAT YOU GET! ALL I WANTED WAS A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP!”

With the cyberdemon stomping away, Six and Comfort fly down to the gathering rescue party.

“What did you do?” asks Five in astonishment.

Six shrugs.

“I’ve had five years of advanced engineering with Hard Reset, and that guy was about as pissed off at the queen for not giving him any as I was for not letting me sleep. When I took the electronic bit connected to his spine that looked control-y and enslave-y, it was fifty-fifty chance of him either collapsing outright or finding a better target than you,” with a slow buzz of his wings, he climbs onto Five’s back, yawns again, and lowers his head on her more cusiony butt than he recalls it being, “Mmmm, much better...”

Five opens her mouth to say something, and realizes that now that they’re mostly safe, Six is already asleep again.

“Seven, the returning ritual?” she whispers instead.

“Oh… right!” he blinks, finding it difficult to process that their journey is over. He closes his eyes, and starts gathering energy in his horn.

Stompy stops vibrating his new intimate attachment, and slowly retracts it into space the transformation spell created for it. The extremely pleased succubus slides off, moaning a low: “Nuuuuuhhhh, wnna mooooore...”

WooD gives the BFG a longing look, shakes his head, and shoves the ultimate weapon back into Five’s beard.

“My mission was to find the sword for the Emperor,” he mutters to himself, “Not this.”

“Comfort, are you coming with us?” Five asks the changeling succubus who shakes her head.

“Nah, I still have to find someone to help me control the summonings. If queen cock sock was right and it’s about seniority, not power, then I’ve got few arrangements to make. But still, you helped me open the gate to the palace, got the queen to leave her seat of power and be vulnerable, so I can go in and see if there’s someone willing to share their knowledge, or unwilling for the matter,” Comfort pats Five’s head, “You did good, flower pot. Even that miscasting idiot over there,” she points at Seven pouring more and more power to the opening portal back to the real world, “But if I were you, I would let your rank show now.”

“Comfort, I’m just a warrior. I serve the hive,” Five lowers her head.

“No, you are Five, and individual. You have hobbies, you have a lover, and you have a personality. You are not an identity-less changeling. You don’t need to show off, you just need to stop suppressing it. You love the hive and Six, you love the boss, and you are part of the family, not its nameless, disposable protector.”

Five closes her eyes, and smiles. When she opens them again, the bright blue changeling eyes are gone, replaced with fiery orange, slit pupils. In a burst of green, long tail sprouts from her back, reaching all the way to the ground and sharply contrasting with her new eyes. Her mane grows into a short mohawk which, like her tail, is bright, pristine white.

“Hmmm,” grumbles Five, “Just more things for enemies to grab me by.”

“Or something for Six to gently run his hoof through,” Comfort kisses her nose, and turns around, walking away without care, “Welp, my job is done here, and so is yours. By the way, don’t break his pelvis immediately after he wakes up.”

Five takes a deep breath, and walks over to Seven, soft smile on her muzzle.

“Ready?” she asks.

“Yep,” red circle surrounds all of them, and in a flash of light, they are gone.

On the other side of the courtyard, the cyberdemon scratches his fully regrown chest, remembering the worthy nemesis who nearly destroyed him, and uses his free hand with the attached rocket launcher to carve few letters on the wall.

“The WooD slayer.”

***

The scream of pain drives away my now usual dizziness following teleportation, and my eyes immediately focus on the scene in front of me.

An alicorn mare is lying on the smooth floor of this strange library made of crystal, groaning while trying to get back on her fours against a black beam sparking with red lightning. It’s the purple princess… Twilight something… Sparkle, yes. I should remember these things by now for diplomatic reasons. The ceiling-high, crystal shelves by the walls stacked with books are similar to the design of Magnus’ lab, and considering that no books are lying scattered on the sparkling floor, the attack must have been a complete surprise for Twilight.

Of course, I know about the other equine figure wearing a brown robe on the other side of the black beam, and if Cromach’s guess was correct, I now know its name.

“Hey, Hex, you look like shit!” Cromach rolls the highest for initiative, and rushes towards the lich.

“Cromach,” the skeletal mage’s reaction speed fueled by raw magic is enough to turn his beam spell from Twilight to Cromach before the griffon reaches him.

The griffon feels it immediately, the cold grip and pull of power trying to rip out a part of him. The dark magic invasive enough to send alicorns to their knees, to rob them of their essence, to end their purpose. What chance does he, a griffon, have against something of that magnitude? He drops on his knees, his strength leaving him.

No, Arcane Hex isn’t stealing a part of him, at least not only a part of him.

Cromach growls, green lightning coursing through him in response to the black beam,

“No! Blaze knew that there’s imprint of the user in their divinity, their memories, themselves,” Cromach hisses, “YOU CAN TAKE THE POWER, BUT YOU AREN’T STEALING HIM FROM ME!” shielding himself with his wings crackling with lightning, he begins raising himself back on all fours. Hex’s jaw drops, and if he had eyes, they would be going wide.

I charge at the lich, gathering love into my hooves. In my wake, Three rushes towards Twilight in a roundabout, safer way.

I see a fiery flash, and drop on the smooth floor. My momentum makes me slide under a burning whip appearing out of nowhere which cracks in the air, and sends out sparks charring the floor around and shooting out small bolts of lightning. One flies off, hitting Three who flies away as if kicked, and lands under a table in the center of the library. I don’t have time to check up on him, only for a quick mental touch through his hive link which feels distorted and confused.

I’m right by Arcane Hex, and slash up with my foreleg. My signature burning love blade crackles against his protective barrier, and to a moment of my own shock it goes through, hacking several of his ribs off along with his robe.

He glances down at me, his skeletal expression unreadable.

“I will wait for him forever if I have to!” I hear, and turn my head to see Cromach teleporting to Hex, his talons already around the lich’s horn. The bone breaks like a dry twig as Cromach twists his foreleg, and with a swipe of his other foreleg he tears the lich’s head off.

The skeleton shatters and disappears. Sinister laughter pierces the air.

“You are quite an enigma, Cromach. Maybe I should have started with you directly instead of the alicorns,” Arcane Hex rematerializes along with his robe on the central table.

“You tried,” with a crack of lightning, a double-headed axe appears at Cromach’s side, and the griffon throws it at the lich as if it weighed nothing. It shatters the figure again.

The bones disappear, and just like before, the lich is back on top of the central table right where he stood.

“Hnnngh!” I hear from underneath.

Three, glowing with love, kicks off the table leg which tilts the desk, making Hex stumble forward towards Cromach whose axe has returned and which he’s now holding like a baseball bat.

His strike shatters Hex again.

“I can do this all day,” he taunts the lich reappearing…

...right behind Three. He telekinetically pulls him from under the table, and tosses him against the wall with speed and power the little guy can’t be ready for.

I have to catch him. Enhancing my legs and chitin, I jump. He hits me, immediately changing my trajectory and ramming me against a bookshelf. I cough, feeling my secondary plating crack in multiple places.

“Three?” is all I can mentally ask with breath knocked out of me despite my carapace.

“Owowowowww...” he just moans.

Cromach sees the chitin shards scatter all over the library from the crushing impact, but running to help isn’t an option.

“GUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARDS!” he screams from the top of his lungs. He doesn’t know if Twilight’s home actually has any, but there’s a chance Hex who might have been out of the loop for a year doesn’t know either.

Hex clicks his teeth, and swings his foreleg vertically down. A rift that immediately makes Cromach’s head ache appears, following the lich’s hoof, and lets in three slithering shadows.

Hex points at Cromach.

“Get him.”

The rapidly multiplying shadows pause…

...and then swarm around Hex, covering him from head to hooves.

“What?!” hears Cromach, tilting his head in surprise.

A loud pop follows, and the shadows scatter. Arcane Hex is nowhere to be found, and in his absence, the shadows crawling out of the rift focus on the four other targets in the room.

“Hey, boss bug! Think you can cover me and Twilight for a while?”

I grunt, pushing myself up and feeling my lungs burn. Everything hurts. I haven’t felt like this… since the dark priest poison?

Three is curled up under a pile of fallen books, still dazed but somewhat safe.

“Hold my beard,” I choke out, and charge through the shadows feeling like slime as they crumble under my burning hooves.

“Starbutt, little help?” Cromach softly kicks Twilight. She can’t get up, and only groans as a purple bolt of energy from her horn sends the nearest shadow tumbling into others, “That’ll have to do, I suppose.”

Cromach looks into the rift, forcing his eyes on it. It’s not black, or white, or grey, it’s simply… the wrong kind of nothing, and it brings back memories. Memories of tentacles ripping the sky in two and clawing into this reality, memories of eyeballs everywhere, watching his every move, but most importantly…

...the memory of one bronze alicorn high up into the sky facing the crawling horror creeping into this world on his own, the memory of him pushing the insane god back, and finally… the memory of the god purifying him, destroying his divinity, and blowing him up in a blinding supernova lighting the sky.

“I’ll make sure you didn’t die in vain, love,” Cromach’s eyes tear up, “We closed that hole, and we’ll close this one too. Harmony won’t come back this way.”

Rearing on his hind legs, he spreads his forelegs. Tendrils of green energy connect his talons to the edges of the void rift hungrily devouring the offered power, and he begins pulling his forelegs together.

The shadows screech as they somehow feel the rift closing, and try to swarm Cromach. That makes things a lot easier for Twilight and myself, since all we need to do is just blindly hack or shoot.

After several seconds of screeching berserker rage of the shadows, the rift closes.

“Huh, so that’s what Magnus meant by wishing,” Cromach chuckles between gasps for breath, “Good job, Beardo, Starbutt.”

His legs are shaking, and he’s dripping with sweat, but there’s a new, mad smile on his beak.

“What do we do now?” I ask, limping back to dig Three out the pile of books.

“I say we take Purple Smart to Canterlot, tell everyone that Arcane Hex is behind the attacks, and punch Celestia in the face for not completely rebuilding the damn protective wards after last year like everyone told her to. Oh, and you’re getting some credit for diplomatically saving princess plot again. Even though it’s the smallest one. Hey, do you think princess seniority comes from ass size, or is the booty spreading a sign of age like those circles inside trees?”

I just shake my head. I don’t have a better plan, I don’t have a smartass answer. Hole, I can barely think at all. We won here, but I don’t think we inflicted any actual damage to the lich. How do we stop someone who seemingly can’t be killed and can get anywhere?

***

The snow reaching up to Five’s knees, the biting cold of a snowstorm raging here even in summer, and the immobile weight of Six on her back make the warrior smile.

“Detecting familiar signals,” reports Stompy, “We’re on the surface near home.”

“How about you work on your targeting, Seven, before I decide to practice mine?” Five raises an eyebrow, but her remaining smile helps put Seven at ease.

The three changelings and the mech materialized in a triangle around WooD, which suits Five just fine, and the griffon agent finds himself facing the two barrels of a Five’s shotgun.

“I knew trusting changelings was a bad idea,” the griffon scowls.

“I can’t have you talking about Brauheim. Anywhere. I don’t know how you survived the magma stream we threw you into, and judging by the state of your power armor I doubt you left and came back. You spent a lot of time observing the dwarf city and tracking us.”

“I spent too long looking for the Sword of the First Emperor to risk it now,” WooD looks Five straight in the eyes.

Five watches him, listens to his breathing, observes his body language in the best way she can. She’s not an infiltrator, so the information she can gain up here is limited.

She’s a warrior, though.

Returning her shotgun into her beard, she turns around.

“Seven, Stompy, we’re going home. I hope I never see you again, WooD.”

Without a word, the griffon checks a compass built into the armor on his left foreleg, and starts walking away past Seven and Stompy into the blizzard.

“Five?” asks Seven internally, “Do you really think we can trust him?”

“I’m a warrior, and so is he. He will keep his word.”

11-1: Descending into total chaos

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Gem is sitting cross-legged on the floor of her guest room with her eyes closed, events of the summit going through her head. Representing the hive has been a straining task, but mostly due to the stress of what might happen if she made a mistake rather than from actual effort. As an infiltrator, it wasn’t a big deal to memorize the requirements from the dwarves, and it’s not as if the other rulers wanted to talk to the changelings too much anyway at this point. The biggest problem was not having much time to regain love since the boss left.

Still, her headache isn’t helping her effort at figuring out which nobles she might be able to talk to to defuse the situation.

*Thud thud thud!*

“Aaah?!” she yelps. She must have been so lost in thought she didn’t hear hoofsteps approaching outside.

The door slams open, a pair of Royal Guards rushing inside, spears at the ready. Seeing Gem on the floor, staring at them with eyes wide, one quickly scans the room for any threats, and the other one approaches her.

“Are you okay, miss Gem?” he offers her a hoof which Gem takes. He helps back on all fours, “We heard a scream.”

“You just suprised me with that loud knocking,” Gem steadies her voice, “I was just preparing myself for tomorrow’s meeting before going to bed.”

“Ah,” the unicorn backs off, “I apologize, but there has been an attack, so we wanted to make sure you and other diplomats were okay-”

“And when you heard loud voice you barged in, I get it,” Gem nods, “Who was attacked? Did Star Trail get away again?”

“One of queen Chrysalis’ top changelings just tried to kill steward Vargaz,” he reports and adds in a hushed tone, “As if griffons needed more reasons to hate changelings...”

That actually makes Gem’s mind freeze, because it makes zero sense. She voices the opinion.

“Why would Chrysalis do that?” she can’t help herself, “That’s just so… stupid.”

“The queen is being detained and interrogated as we speak,” replies the unicorn.

“May I see her? This doesn’t feel like her at all,” Gem shakes her head, “I mean, her hive is mostly safe, changelings at large aren’t being hunted with torches and pitchforks, so why would she order something like this?”

“The hearing is being held in the throne room, miss Gem,” the unicorn replies, “Other representatives are no doubt setting up to grill queen Chrysalis as we speak.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Gem nodded.

A quick mental poke reveals that none of Two, Eleven, or Cryo are in any danger, so she follows the guards to the throne room relatively at ease.

Most of the other head diplomats are already there, usually with a bodyguard or two. Celestia and Luna are on their thrones while Chrysalis is sitting inside a magical circle, forelegs crossed on her chest, and suppressor fitted around her horn.

“Look, I’m telling you I’ve been doing this every summit since I joined. None of you can tell me with a straight face you don’t have spies around-”

“You REPLACED a high-ranking guard, monster!” a griffon yells into Chrysalis’ face, making Vargaz standing by his side wince, “Where is he?!”

Chrysalis rubs her ears for show.

“In one of our guest rooms,” she rolls her eyes, “Look, I have no idea why Four did what she did, and since you haven’t let me examine the body-”

“You mean tamper with evidence, bug!” a dragon opens his jaw, letting out a small burst of fire.

“My question is,” Vargaz raises his voice to be heard over the angry murmurs of everyone around, “If your subordinate infiltrated my ranks on your orders but attacked me for some unknown reason, are there more potential threats like this?”

“Come on, you can’t believe her-” a griffon diplomat looks at Vargaz, and shuts up as soon as the steward raises his foreleg.

From the corner of her eye, Gem notices warlord Darkhorn whisper something to a minotaur by his side who immediately heads out of the throne room.

Chrysalis sighs.

“I suppose it is possible,” she answers Vargaz’s question with a shrug, “Look, I’ll recall everyone if it makes you feel better, but since I know I wasn’t involved in this, you really should play it safe-”

“Your Highness!” Ivan Ivanov speaks up, “We request your assistance in detecting changelings among our retinue immediately. This is a matter which could irreparably damage our relationship with Equestria, since you’re harboring a potential murderer.”

“...I was about to say that...” mutters Chrysalis.

“Ahem,” Celestia looks at Luna, “Sister?”

“From all I can sense, queen Chrysalis is speaking the truth,” Luna raises her hoof immediately to stop the objections from the audience, “However, even I can’t be a hundred percent certain with someone as skilled in deception as Chrysalis, so I advise house arrest for her and all her companions. We will, of course, help with sweeping the retinues.”

“I already said I’d recall everyone, and that you can find all replaced members in our guest rooms,” Chrysalis gives it one more shot.

“And what about THEM?” the zebra delegate turns around, pointing at Gem, “They’re changelings too. Who knows if we can trust-”

“Don’t finish that sentence unless you want to deal with changelings you will never find, and who will not fail like Chrysalis’ did,” Gem hisses at him.

Silence spreads through the room at the threat.

“I object to this-” a different zebra whom Gem now recognizes as the one who ‘attempted’ to woo One when the summit started opens his mouth again.

“SILENCE!” the bellow comes from Darkhorn who gives the zebra a burning glare, “King Beard’s changelings fled from Chrysalis in the first place. There is no one who would want to cooperate with her less than them.”

“On the other scale,” dragon lord Ember muses, scratching her chin, “In that case if there ever was someone who would want to implicate queen Chrysalis then it would be them. I mean, if we entertain the thought that the queen is telling the truth for a moment.”

“Well...” Chrysalis hums, giving Ember a rather surprised glance, “I hate to admit it, but if there is someone with the skill to force my changelings to do something I don’t want them to, it is Gem here, BUT-” she raises her voice, seeing Gem’s jaw drop, “I know Beard and his changelings. It’s not them, one hundred percent.”

Well thank you very much…

Gem forces her expression under control, nodding at Celestia.

“If you need help detecting changelings, feel free to ask me or Two,” she offers, “I don’t know the full extent of your magic.”

“As if...” mutters a diamond dog delegate to himself.

“Actually,” Vargaz clears his throat, “if you wouldn’t mind, I would like you to accompany me immediately. The faster we deal with this, the sooner we can all put our minds to rest,” he bows to Celestia, “I agree with the house arrest for the queen, and I would appreciate if you would send an expert on detection magic as quickly as possible. I will gather my retinue,” without further ado, he nods at Gem who follows him out.

A Royal Guard unicorn joins them as they wait for all griffons to assemble.

“Is that everyone?” asks Gem, sensing two changelings out of the twenty-three retinue members.

Vargaz nods. Gem immediately points at two disguised infiltrators. They’re playing their roles well enough to fool griffons, but they’re nowhere powerful enough to hide their hive links from her.

To Gem’s surprise, both immediately salute, and transform into changelings.

“Chrysalis has been detained. She’s going to recall you and all the other infiltrators soon. Someone will come for the replaced griffons soon.”

Gem taps into their hive communication just enough not to be noticed, and senses them talking. After a brief exchange, they nod and trot off.

“Anyone else?” asks Vargaz.

“If this is everyone, then no,” Gem shakes her head.

“Good, thank you for your assistance,” Vargaz gives her a small bow, “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Gem smiles, “And stay safe. As I said, I’m pretty sure Chrysalis wasn’t lying, and attacking you doesn’t benefit her in the slightest.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Vargaz waves his talons dismissively, “I’m certain this happened to sow mistrust between the delegates. The real question is who is behind this.”

“I can’t say,” Gem shrugs.

“Then I’d advise you to be careful, I have a gut feeling that this isn’t over. I wish you good night, miss Gem.”

“You too, steward,” Gem bows and leaves.

As soon as she’s out of presumed changeling earshot, Vargaz waits for the Royal Guard unicorn to arrive, and says:

“Scan them all again. Let’s see if our changeling friend was telling the truth.”

***

As Gem strolls back to her room, followed by careful eyes of the Royal Guards stationed everywhere, she hears:

“Gemstone beard, are you free right now?”

“Cryo? What’s wrong?” she replies. It’s rare that the ancient queen communicates on her own with someone other than Two.

“I did diplomacy!” she reports with pride, “I mean… you can now do diplomacy. I delegate. Beard loaves need help finding changelings, and I’m… not smart.”

Gem chuckles. For a queen, Cryo’s sense of self-worth sure is… well, technically pretty accurate. In combat, she knows her strengths, and so does she as far as infiltration goes.

“Sure, I’ll be right there. If it helps keep the diplomatic channels open. Thank you for your good work, Cryo.”

Gem admits she kind of likes the old queen, no matter how weird she is.

“You’d make good boss beard!” Cryo disconnects abruptly after blurting that out, leaving Gem somewhat staggered.

She turns around, and sets course for the yak guest rooms.

“Two, you up?” asks Gem.

“Yeah, yeah...” she yawns in response, “Do you want me to investigate the commotion outside?”

“Chrysalis’ changeling tried to kill Vargaz,” Gem sends Two a quick recap of the situaion.

“Wait, WHAT?!” is Two’s expected reaction.

“I need you to go check up on Darkhorn, help him find the replaced minotaurs before the Royal Guards do,” Gem smirks to herself, “If we show good will before the Royal Guards do their checks-”

“We’ll prove we weren’t lying about wanting to help and that we did good job after the guards confirm we found eveyone,” Two immediately catches on, “I’m on it.”

Impressive. Gem allows herself a moment of pride. One day, if dad decides to walk the world stage openly, Two will become the nightmare of every politician.

“I just hope he’s okay...” Gem breathes out.

***

It’s past midnight, and Canterlot castle is finally slowly going to sleep. Royal Guard unicorns have been replaced by batponies guarding at random both on the ground and in the rafters of high hallways. Two stops in front of one grey, purple-armored batpony, and looks into his slit, golden eyes. The Nightguard stares back, not giving away any emotions, at least to non-changelings. Two can obviously sense his wariness and a hint of annoyance, but the lack of open hostility helps put her at ease.

In the spur of the moment, she opens a window, and jumps out, wings buzzing. Maybe the fresher air of summer night will help her sort things out inside her head.

Looking at the whole summit since they arrived, she notes that the changelings haven’t been attacked at all aside from Three, but always presented as attackers. Granted, boss’ involvement in the original attacks on royalty were bad luck, but it all worked to their advantage in the end. So… now someone is trying to blame Chrysalis who has far less support overall, and for good reason? The thing is, the attacker was her changeling, and changelings simply don’t go against their orders without an extremely good reason. In fact, their own reason rarely actually steps into it.

No, Vargaz was the target because griffons naturally hate changelings the most due to some ancient history. However, the reaction was underwhelming, which means Vargaz suspects that, and is keeping his guys on short leash. That’s great news as far as support goes, and also terrible news, because someone with much less cool head will be the next target. And changelings will be involved… somehow. But how? How could someone force a changeling to act against queen’s orders?

Magic? For once, Two wishes Seven was here. Bribery or personal threats wouldn’t faze a changeling. Hive is everything. Soooo… magic, it has to be, powerful enough to twist the loyalty of a changeling, and to hide its effects from Chrysalis herself. The obvious answer is that the mage who can easily travel to the heavily protected castle and back, and who can fight alicorns on somewhat even grounds would also be able to mind-control a changeling.

Two sighs. Everyone is treating symptoms, but not the disease. The castle isn’t safe, simple as that. As soon as that is solved, most of the threat would be gone like that. So why isn’t Celestia doing anything? Her unicorn specialist checked the castle wards, and found them to be at full power. Is she involved? Probably not.

Growling, she punches the air several times in frustration. She’s not going to figure out anything just by thinking.

She lands atop one of many small turrets and chimneys on the castle roof, and closes her eyes. Calming down is they way to go. As her breathing slows down, she focuses on her hive links, noting that Gem must have gone to sleep after helping the yaks, Eleven is sleeping as well, and Cryo…

Cryo is somewhere outside, Two notes in surprise. Maybe she couldn’t sleep as well? Gently, Two connects to her, her link instinctively letting Two into her head.

Up on the castle roof, Two covers her mouth not to burst out laughing as she looks out of Cryo’s eyes in some dark room filled with workbenches. From her vantage point, Two can see the Royal Guard workshop tucked away neatly by the outer walls of the castle grounds.

“Yak grateful to big blue for all the help,” says Rutherford, nuzzling Cryo’s foreleg, “Yak want to show properly.”

Rutherford grabs Cryo’s huge hoof with his, and starts peppering it with kisses as she lowers it back on the floor. The effect is spoiled by him being unable to reach her chest. To Two’s surprise, Cryo lies down on her belly on the wooden floor, and Rutherford immediately grabs her head, pulling her into a kiss.

Yes, this is how she’s been able to regain love without bothering the boss or Two. Last time, Two had trouble believing that Rutherford’s infatuation with the huge queen was more than just passing interest, but now, as Cryo rolls over on her back and Rutherford continues his trail of kisses down her neck and onto her belly, Two can feel his… genuine love. Of course, a loooot of lust too.

Two disconnects. She isn’t attracted to yaks whatsoever, and doesn’t intend to risk Cryo noticing her snooping inside the queen’s head, although with Rutherford going further and further south of the equator the chance of her focusing on anything other than the yak is miniscule at best.

Maybe juuuuust a peek. A scientific interest as to how the lust logistics work between such massive mare like Cryo and someone comparatively tiny as Rutherford. Although, other than dragons, everyone is comparatively tiny to Cryo.

She blushes instantly, and disconnects this time for good.

“...ooooookay, that’s another blow for the zebras...” she takes to the air, and heads for her room, “...size definitely isn’t everything.”

***

Thankfully, the rest of the night was uneventful.

Gem slowly descends the few steps into the ballroom, yawning and wandering whether or not she should allow herself to metabolize coffee. She enjoys the scent immensely, but the taste… coffee tastes like licking a dusty hoof. Having done both, she has a proper frame of reference.

There are few diplomats sitting around already, enjoying their breakfast. Of course, after the events of yesterday, the eating and clanking of cutlery stops for a moment as they notice Gem, and all shoot suspicious glares her way. Unwilling to try anyone’s obviously already strained patience, Gem opts to sit alone at the far corner of the table. To her surprise, Celestia joins her in less than five minutes, and a servant brings her a cup of tea as well as a big, jello cake. She licks her lips, and her levitating spoon digs into the jello. In light of the shown support, Gem waves at a servant, orders the tempting coffee, and watches the room slowly fill with diplomats.

After twenty minutes, a yak guard approaches the princess, and bows.

“Your Highness, yak report prince Rutherford not returned from his night walk,” the air in the room grows heavy as all the clanking of eating creatures quietens down, and all heads turn towards the yak guard, “Yak no want assume worst, but yak humbly request help.”

“Two, Eleven, wake up right now,” orders Gem, and quickly senses both links opening, “Rutherford disappeared. I need you to go look for him immediately.”

“Rutherford?” Two yawns, “I saw him late at night with Cryo in the Royal Guard workshop on the castle grounds. They had another one of their moments of amore.”

“Damn it! If anyone saw them-”

An earthpony maid currently refilling a plate of scones clears her throat, and says:

“May I say something, your Highness?”

“Do you know anything about this?” Celestia looks down at her.

“My sister was on the night shift last night, and when she was refilling the lavender holders on the third floor, she saw a yak leaving the castle with this huuuuuge changeling, even bigger than you, your Highness.”

And now everyone is staring at Gem, even Celestia.

“Holes damn it!” she curses, “CRYO, WHERE IS RUTHERFORD?!”

She can feel Cryo’s ears splay back under the wave of Gem’s unprecendented anger.

“Beard… loaf… is cocooned in my… bathroom…?” she replies meekly.

“Care to explain why?” Gem’s voice turns to a cold hiss.

“He asked for it,” replies Cryo simply.

“Do you mean the threatening kind of ‘he asked for it’ or that he literally asked for it?”

“I… uhh… what does the first one mean?” Gem can feel panic rising in Cryo’s mind, clouding her already difficult to read thoughs.

Gem takes a deep breath. The slow flow of time in the hive mind is giving her the opportunity to think before answering in the real world.

“Cryo, please, why did you cocoon Rutherford?”

“Beard loaf asked me to do it! I told him I was hungry because boss didn’t allow us to cocoon anyone here, even the unimportant ponies, so he offered to help me the changeling way. I had no idea it would be a problem for the boss.”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Gem breathes out, “Just get Rutherford out. I expect you’ll have company in few minutes. Two, help Cryo release Rutherford, and bring them both here. Embarrassment of this magnitude is still better than open war.”

“On it!” Two jumps out of the bed, and immediately rushes out of the room.

Gem facehoofs in the real world.

“Please, everyone, calm down-” she opens her mouth.

“WE KNEW THEY WOULD ATTACK AGAIN!” the Stalliongrad delegate Ivan points at Gem.

“A changeling is a changeling in the end, no matter whom they pretend to serve,” growls a griffon diplomat. This time, Vargaz doesn’t stop him, which sends chills down Gem’s spine.

“Admitting weakness is a heresy to us,” growls Ember, “But a relentless enemy who can look like us and strike anwhere while we aren’t allowed to strike back, Celestia? That worries even me.”

“We are this close to leaving the summit unless you kick those monsters out for good,” a zebra lord scowls at Celestia, “Protecting them after all this is practically an act of war!”

Celestia raises her hoof.

“Did you want to say something, miss Gem?”

Gem slowly faces everyone.

“Cryo and Two will bring prince Rutherford momentarily, and explain the situation. Let me assure you, the prince is absolutely okay.”

“How can we believe that?” the zebra barks back at her.

“Princess Celestia’s guards can check that he isn’t a changeling in disguise, and-”

“Who knows what mind triggers and controls you put on him?” the aggressive griffon presses on.

“I will call on my sister. She is the best mental magic user, and she’s naturally gifted at sensing inconsistencies. She’s going to be mad to be woken up this early, but I suppose it’s the only way we can be sure.”

“...Nightmare Moon...” mumbles someone.

“ENOUGH OF THIS!” Celestia bursts out, making everyone lean back as her mane turns into flames, “I understand your concerns regarding the unknown, but no one is going to accuse my sister of still being a possessed monster. She’s proven herself many times over against dangers none of you heard about exactly because she and others work tirelessly in the shadows to protect you,” she turns to the shaking maid by her side, “Bring my sister here immediately.”

“O- Of course, y- your Highness.”

“Thank you.”

The maid scampers off, and everyone slowly sits down as Celestia’s mane turns to her normal floating rainbow, and she takes a sip of her tea.

Some hushed conversations later, Two’s head peeks through the big door of the ballroom.

“Okay, no one seems to be at each other’s throats, so-”

“Ah, good morning, Two-” a pleasant voice just by her head speaks up, its gentle touch of breath tickling her ear.

“YAHHH!” the infiltrator turns into a spark of fire and bolts through the door faster than the eye can see. As she rematerializes, she’s standing with her head facing the door, baring her teeth.

Princess Luna, smirk on her face, enters next, followed by Rutherford, and in the end enters Cryo, head hung low… which still leaves her towering over anyone but the alicorns.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of being woken up so shortly after finally falling asleep?” Luna raises an eyebrow at the obviously thick atmosphere of the ballroom.

“Guards, sister,” Celestia speaks up, “Would you kindly make sure that the prince Rutherford here with us is the real deal? It seems that he disappeared without telling his retinue not to worry, and it caused quite the stir with our other guests.”

Luna understands immediately, and nods. He horn flashes, and so does the Royal Guard unicorn’s in the ballroom. He exchanges glances with Luna, and says:

“This is indeed the real prince Rutherford.”

“And don’t worry, I can’t sense any lingering changeling influence or mental magic on him,” adds Luna.

Gem is pretty certain that not even Luna would be able to detect subtle manipulations of a changeling on the level of Comfort with just a glance and some quick spell, but she sure as hole isn’t going to point that out right now.

“Your Highness,” Celestia walks up to Rutherford, “May you enlighten us as to why you decided to disappear without telling any of your retinue? The other guests were quick to place blame on the changelings, and I in all good conscience cannot fault them for it, especially in the light of yesterday’s events.”

Rutherford scratches his head, and Gem is pretty sure she caught a glimpse of a blush under all that hair. He takes a long breath, then an even longer pause during which he exchanges glances with the diplomats now surrounding him in a half circle.

“Yak must come clean,” he announces in the end, “Yak in love with big blue since the moment yak lay eyes on her,” when everyone is completely silent, jaws, beaks, maws,or muzzles open in shock, awe, and likely horror, Rutherford continues, “Yak and big blue deepen diplomatic relations, if you know what yak mean,” Rutherford’s brows move up and down conspiratorially, and several diplomats’ faces turn green at the idea, “Last night, yak took big blue out, but big blue too big for yak. Yak the best, but not even yak big enough for this lady,” he looks back at Cryo who shuffles backwards in an attempt to hide behind Two. which turns out to be exactly as successful as you might think, “So big blue offered yak to teach changeling courtship ways. In the heat of the moment, yak agreed.”

“Changeling courtship?” Gem raises an eyebrow, “As far as I recall, if changelings wanted someone, they just cocooned- ohhhh...”

“Yak only wanted to be in cocoon for one day,” Rutherford continues to gradually break the imaginations of everyone, “But yak forgot big blue very literal-minded, so yak woke up too late. Yak apologize for any inconvenience, especially after yesterday.”

The snap of Vargaz’s talons rings through the now silent ballroom.

“Liquor, now!” he orders. Quietly, he adds, “There’s a mental picture that needs a mental eraser.”

“Seconded!” Ivan Ivanov stomps his hoof in agreement, and servants start rushing around with renewed vigor.

“Now that everything has been cleared out, would big blue accompany yak for a private breakfast fit for a changeling?” Rutherford passes Two, and wiggles his eyebrows at Cryo.

The remaining tea inside Celestia’s levitating cup evaporates.

11-2: Descending into total chaos

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It’s the late afternoon, and Gem is in the castle dungeons. Not locked up this time, although at this point she would prefer the peace and quiet of a cell. No, she discovered that there was an indoors training area down here, practically unused during the summer. Ponnequins with various kinds of armor are lining the walls of the wide open room, near the entrance there are boxes with weapons, and several practice targets for ranged weapons hang on the wall in the back.

She wanted some peace and quiet, so she informed Two and the others to leave her alone unless something serious happened, and went down here to meditate on the recent events in hopes to figure out something she missed or, failing that, to simply calm down and relax.

A sword flies past her head, and casually slashes the air. No, she sure wouldn’t use this even for defense. Her telekinesis isn’t the greatest for anything other than carrying things. She certainly wouldn’t be able to fight anyway, not that she would ever want to. She’s a changeling. It is in her power to end fights or disputes without violence. Holes know changelings caused enough pain already throughout the history.

But maybe… just maybe…

She stands up, and examines the ponnequins, namely one with a harness of two leather belts crossed over its chest, seemingly with dozens of tiny loops for crossbow bolts. With fresh curiosity, she tries it on, fiddling with its adjustible straps. While made for a Royal Guard, it eventually fits Gem’s clop dream, zebra-proportioned changeling body well. In the end, she adjusts her streaked mane made loose by pulling the harness over her head.

Vials could fit into those holes instead of crossbow bolts, and there are tons of incapacitating potions she could mix with the use of her shapeshifting. Those would be light enough for her to throw with some accuracy. A method of defense that would minimize the chances of her irreparably harming someone, and still give her the freedom to blast some bloodthirsty monster if needed.

Out of nowhere, a flash of blue light opens a circular gateway hanging in the air by the practice targets, making Gem jump and shuffle backwards to the entrance. At the first sight of the greying white leg stepping out, she turns and bolts.

She hears the click of the door lock before she can reach it. Immediately, she spits at the locking mechanism, but the door is thick, double-winged, and the lock is made of heavy metal. Melting it is going to take some time.

The hoofsteps grow closer, and she turns to face her enemy. Apparently, she needs time she doesn’t have.

Star Trail is more muscular and looks younger than before, but the hatred etched on his face and his overall looks are still there. If there is a good side to this, it’s that he’s not wearing any armor, or levitating a weapon-

Nevermind, scratch that, a sword from the crates floats over to him immediately.

Note to self - never again step into a room that can be used as a combat arena.

“CRYO, TWO, ELEVEN, STAR TRAIL IS BACK!” she lets out a mental scream to reach anyone. There’s no answer. In fact, she can’t sense anything outside of the training room.

Star Trail notices her panicked look from side to side, and laughs.

“Isolation spell, bug. No one will save you this time. Not your insect friends, not Bright Star, no one!”

Gem frowns. Still, an unarmed changeling like her is far from being defenseless. She just needs time. Hardening her chitin against glancing blows, she starts circling around Star Trail who gives the sword few practice swings to measure its weight in comparison to his lighter paladin weapon.

Gem is looking Star Trail straight in the eyes, her standard shifting and shimmering colors digging deep into his mind to make him suggestive. The air grows heavy with pheromones as she breathes out. All the non-obvious hypnotic properties she learned from Comfort are aimed at Star Trail.

Star Trail breathes in, narrows his eyes, and attacks.

Gem jumps and rolls to the side, immediately getting back on all fours as Star Trail is already above her faster than his flying sword. He kicks her like a raging bull, making her fly to the opposite wall. Has he ever been this strong?

Thankfully, the kicked distance only means Gem finally has time to stand up, because her carapace is more than enough to shrug off impacts like that. Behind Star Trail, on the other side of the room, she sees the lock smolder. First she needs a minute at most, and then to get past him.

“HELP!” she screams, more to fake lack of concentration rather than hoping that her voice would breach the isolaton spell. Star Trail jumps towards her as expected, his sword cleaving the air again.

Sparks and half of the broken sword hit Gem’s back as he hacks at the wall. While her avoiding the weapon works, her attempt to run past, however, ends as he punches her to the side with strength that makes her legs twist and send her tripping on the floor.

Star Trail straddles her belly, and punches her in the face.

“No one will save you this time, monster,” he repeats in a hiss, the broken sword hovering above Gem’s head.

He is too strong, and she knows that if she softens her carapace at the wrong time to escape, he’ll easily snap her neck. Maybe she should bite him, since her subtler hypnosis methods don’t seem to be working. Her stomach revolves at the thought. However, her course of action is clear.

Straining against him holding her shoulders down, she waits for him to lean closer to gloat again…

...and kisses him, forcing him to swallow as much of her saliva as she can.

She gets a fraction of a second before he bites down on her long tongue, and rips it off.

Gem’s scream of pain is cut short by him punching her in the neck, leaving a small crack in her carapace. He instantly presses his both hooves against it, and starts grinding her against the floor, chitin creaking and… failing against his strength and weight.

“I am undead, bug. Your mind tricks don’t work on me,” he growls, and with a twist of his hoof, Gem’s chitin cracks. Her eyes roll back in agony as the broken shards dig into the soft flesh of her neck underneath, and her windpipe gets crushed. While he could easily push his hoof through her neck and likely rip her head off, he doesn’t, “I won’t kill you quickly, you don’t deserve that. You will squirm and I will enjoy you choking to death under me. Maybe I’ll even have time for some fun,” he raises both his hooves again, shuffles back a little, and slams them against her chest. Her chitin collapses as well as the ribs underneath. Her shredded lungs fill with blood immediately, turning Gem’s still defiant flailing into uncontrollable twitching.

All Gem hears through the rushing of blood in her ears is Star Trail’s laughter. She doesn’t hear the door slam open after a powerful kick, nor the minotaur warcry following it.

Star Trail scowls, raising his foreleg to end Gem before having to face the intruder. A warhammer half his weight thrown with the force of a freight train straight up sweeps him off of Gem. A ponnequin kicked his way follows, not harming him but also not giving him time to recuperate.

When he sweeps the ponnequin out of the way with his foreleg, a hand reaches out to him. Fingers grab his horn and twist it off along with a punch of a steel gauntlet to the face which knocks some of his teeth out. He raises his hooves, unable to feel pain but still dazed by the unreleting assault.

A leg kicks him against the wall in the next moment, and Star Trail completely misses the previously thrown warhammer raised by the minotaur again as if it was a one-handed weapon, and then going down on his head.

Anvil kicks Star Trail’s headless body for good measure, and when he doesn’t move she flicks away the remains of his crushed skull and spine off of the weapon. With one more swing, she crushes Star Trail’s ribcage to paste before rushing over to Gem.

The changeling’s eyes are closed, and she isn’t breathing. Rather than risking transporting her in case she might still be alive, Anvil sprints out of the room where her personal Eleven is hiding behind the door.

“Call someone!” she orders.

“I did as soon as you went in-”

A bolt of lightning strikes the floor in front of him, transforming into Two who rushes past Anvil and straight to Gem. After a moment of examination, she lets out a sigh of relief.

“She’s in low-level hibernation,” she looks up at the towering minotaur, “Her lungs and windpipe are practically gone, so she couldn’t afford to have to breathe.”

“So what now?” asks Anvil. Her knowledge about treating changelings is limited to say the least. Pony libraries she’d visited were scarcely stocked on the subject.

“Don’t move her, and just wait,” says Two, glancing at the pulverized mess remaining of Star Trail, “I hate this so much...” she growls, “I know he’s not dead, that he’ll be back, but I don’t know how to prevent it. Why did Gem not call us for help?”

“Common isolation magic,” explains Anvil, who now Two notices is wearing nothing but a loincloth, steel greaves and gauntlets, “I felt it on the door when I came here for some exercise, it’s sort of a numb buzzing when you touch the entrance of a room under the spell. Royal Guards are using the castle grounds for their afternoon training.”

Two stands up, and starts pacing back and forth.

If I can’t win a fight, I need to make sure it doesn’t happen in the first place… HOW? He can get anywhere and I don’t know anything to help prevent it. Think, Two, think!

Anvil walks over to the bits of Star Trail which aren’t a pile of goo, and pokes the flesh several times.

“Now this is familiar...” she stands up, and ask Two, “Hey, can you keep an eye on Gem?”

“Hmm?” Two’s ears twitch as Anvl’s question brings her out of the depths of her own thoughts, “Yes. As I said, she should stabilize in few minutes.”

“Good. I’ll report this to Celestia,” Anvil starts striding away, “I wish Bubbles was here. I could use someone with better nose.”

“Nose?” asks Two, but Anvil is already gone.

Furrowing her brows, she starts sniffing around, and ends by Star Trail’s corpse. Smells like death, nothing too unusual…

Wait, no… that’s not all…

The flesh is too dead, there is too little blood, it’s a smell of a massacre, but there’s also the faintest hint of previously necrotic tissue, like from the undead body, but also disinfectant and more… in fact, it smells like Seven’s laboratory back home. Anvil can’t have smelled that, so… she must have figured something out on her own. Maybe she encountered an undead like Star Trail before?

Okay, she needs to protect Gem and then get her to safety, and afterwards she needs to examine the castle a bit further.

***

One has jumped into the collapsing portal, and now immediately keels forward as her forelegs fail to hit any sort of ground. Her wings start buzzing to fight off the gust of wind sweeping her to the side and pelting her with snow. Glancing far, far down, she sees a white blanket of snow covering everything.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” she hears a scream following a loud poof behind her, and quickly turns around just in time to see the black and white blur of Contradiction flail her legs before dropping like a rock.

Snow or not, if the unicorn drops from this height, she’ll end up as goo. As One steadies herself against the wind, another poof and a blue flash nearby signal the appearance of someone small and quadrupedal - Bubbles, was it? With her size and weight, the following burst of air sends her dropping into the distance like a comet. Fully aware she will never reach her, One grits her teeth and keeps going for falling Contradiction.

The third poof, flash, and a loud scream reveal Astray flailing his arms and legs.

“I’M OKAY! GET HIM, GET HIM!” screams Connie, pointing at the satyr as One gets closer.

Immediately changing course, One snatches the satyr from the air, and floats down to safety. Looking at the snowdrifts below, she follows Contradiction’s drop which slows down on its own, making the unicorn land softly in the snow. As One carries Astray to Contradiction’s side, she says:

“I’m sorry for Bubbles, but with the wind up there, I couldn’t get both her and Astray.”

Connie rubs her chest as her black coat is rapidly turning white from the blizzard.

“S- She’ll b- be o- okay,” she mutters through chattering teeth, “W- We w- w- won’t if w- we s- s- stay h- here.”

To prove her right, snow explodes in the distance, and burst after burst, one jumping rusty demonette approaches.

“I LIKE THIS PLACE!” Bubbles yells with a grin after she rejoins the group and sinks up to her chest into the snow.

One looks around, unable to see much through the falling snow. From her limited knowledge of geography, snow like this can either mean deep south or north. She needs a vantage point to figure something out.

“Hey, can you last a bit longer?” she yells not to be drowned out by the howling snowstorm, “I’ll fly up and see if there’s shelter or something!”

The Silver Sun trio nod, and One takes to the air.

“W- We won’t l- last like t- this,” Connie frowns. Her horn lights up, and all the snow suddenly starts hitting a small dome surrounding her, Astray, and Bubbles. It doesn’t help against the cold, but the wind inside is a little tamer, and the snow is forming a physical dome around them with each passing second.

Astray is the only one wearing clothes, but in the frost here he might still be in worse shape than the ponies. A shirt, cloth pants, greaves, belt with a pistol and a sword, and chainmail gauntlets he managed to grab before rushing off to help defend princess Celestia aren’t even remotely enough protection.

Bubbles immediately starts kicking snow out of the dome, and when she clears out a circle with them inside, she pats Astray down to de-snowify him, and follows the same process with Connie. In the end, they huddle back to back inside the igloo which formed itself around Connie’s telekinetic barrier in the meantime. Coupled with the heat Connie and Astray can feel from the demonette, the situation is becoming almost bearable.

Up in the air, the situation isn’t much better, but One does catch a glimpse of something familiar - a purple shimmer in the distance. To make sure her hunch is correct, she turns around, and if her eyes aren’t playing tricks on her, the opposite side might indeed be a little darker.

So, what does she know?

The teleporter was a trap, obviously, or just unstable, and it seems to have kicked them somewhere between the Crystal Empire and the Everhoof range. Normally, that would mean she was safe and sound. Now, though, with three companions without proper gear, the situation could prove deadly. On the other hole, it’s still summer, so the blizzard won’t last long. With that in mind, she flies down, and after a short while finds a round sphere of snow which couldn’t be natural. After she clears the layer of snow, Connie sees her, and lets her inside.

“Comfy,” comments One.

“What did you find?” asks Connie in a no-nonsense tone.

“I couldn’t see much, but I think I spotted a shimmer in the distance which could be the Crystal Empire. You won’t get there in the storm, though. Not without proper clothes,” One shakes her head, “The good news is that at this time of year it won’t last long. As long as we kick a hole through the snow dome to get some air from time to time, you might be okay. You don’t know some sort of fire magic, do you?”

“I can’t use magic at all, only telekinesis,” replies Connie, “Birth defect.”

“Then we just have to cuddle!” Bubbles’ cheery voice is followed by shuffling in the pitch blackness, for everyone but One, and the demonette pulling them all into a hug.

All they need to do now is wait.

***

Two put her original plan on the back burner, at least for few minutes. Now, she’s in the infirmary wing, entering Bright Star’s room. The paladin is sitting by the window, watching the Royal Guards training on the castle grounds. As he hears the door open, he turns his head, and smiles.

“Hello, Two. What brings you here?”

“Star Trail just attacked Gem down in the castle dungeons, specifically the Royal Guard indoors training room.”

“Ah, damn it!” he stands up, and hisses as pain shoots through him, “How is she?”

“That Silver Sun minotaur mare, Anvil, made short process of him,” says Two, which makes Bright Star breathe out a relieved sigh, “Gem was extremely lucky Anvil was around, though. If she was alone, she would be dead. Even with Anvil stopping the worst from happening, she had to go into hibernation due to crushed throat and lungs.”

“By the sun...” Bright Star’s eyes go wide. He knows the regenerative properties of powerful changelings, but evoking the idea of such horrific wounds still makes him wince.

“Yeah yeah, she’ll be okay after a good night’s sleep, which is where you come in.”

“Do I?”

“I need someone who can do magic to keep an eye on her. Specifically someone who isn’t drowning in this whole paranoia about us. You know us better than any other pony, Bright Star. I need your help. Gem does, I mean, since she doesn’t know anything about magic. This attack only worked thanks to some stupid basic isolation spell, which was nonetheless nearly enough. If she knew enough to break the spell, she could have just called for help, and me and Cryo would have been there within seconds.”

“Of course I’ll help, Two. This much of a bed rest isn’t for me anyway. But how did Star Trail actually outfight miss Gem? I mean, a changeling of her caliber should be able to defend herself reasonably well, even if I consider her pacifist nature.”

“That stupid idea is gonna get her killed one day, and make dad really sad,” Two shakes her head, “Anyway, the problem here was that as an undead, Star Trail is immune to any mindfuckery we can do. On top of that… I saw part of his corpse, and he was big. Like, I mean, stronger, tougher, probably much faster too.”

“I see, a flesh-crafted revenant,” Bright Star scowls, “Then the lich is even more skilled than we thought. Negative energy spells aren’t so uncommon, but necromancy of this level is.”

“You know what pisses me off the most? It’s that he can strike anywhere. Both of them separately it seems.”

“Star Trail never needed the lich to use magic around the castle. Royal Guards can use most simpler spells here, but all of us paladins can completely alter our spellcasting to be usable inside the castle. Some of us with more talent at mobility spells, by which I don’t mean myself since my talent lies in protective magic, can use the castle’s framework of wards to teleport from normally unthinkable distances.”

“Wouldn’t really be a problem if he stayed dead at some point...” mutters Two.

“Now that is the lich’s work.”

“Gee, you think?” she lowers her head when she catches Bright Star’s surprised look at her irritated reply, “I’m sorry, I just feel like I can’t do anything. Can’t, I don’t know, Celestia remake the castle protections so that this doesn’t keep happening?”

Bright Star shakes his head.

“Two, the layers of spells have grown over centuries. In general, whenever there’s a real need for some addition like it was after queen Chrysalis’ invasion, the council of unicorns from the United Orders of Wizardry has to figure out how to weave in the new spell without ruining something or blowing themselves up. Rebuilding the network of wards would also disable any use of magic at all within the castle, which would turn off, let’s say, lamps, magical stoves and such. Paladins and Royal Guards would be completely screwed until they underwent a full retraining.”

“In short, too much work even when weighed against potential war of everyone against us changelings...” Two facehoofs.

“I know it sounds cold, but… yes,” Bright Star pats Two’s head, “But don’t worry, I’ll do all I can to help, at least for the duration of the summit, I swear.”

Two sighs.

“I wish it would be enough, but I doubt it. I need to think of something, anything. Boss has been gone for far too long, now One is gone, Gem nearly died,” she shakes her head, “At this rate, there will be no one to do diplomacy with. Gah! I hate being so useless again!”

“You aren’t useless, Two,” Bright Star pats her head again, “Just now, you’re making sure Gem isn’t in such a bad position again. That in itself might help. It won’t resolve the situation on its own, but it’s something.”

“Thanks for the sentiment, Bright Star,” she chuckles without any joy in it, “But I’m getting fed up with the growing list of things I can’t protect dad and others from.”

“Two, there will always be things that will take you by surprise, that you’re not ready for. What’s the most important is to keep a cool head, and try to do the best you can. As one smart pony once said - we can’t control our circumstances, we can only control how we react to them.”

“You’re literally saying this to a changeling whose only potential strength is controlling what happens, because she’s not exceptionally good at magic or fighting.”

Bright Star sighs.

“You know what I meant, Two.”

“Yeah yeah,” she taps into Gem who has just arrived in her room, and is now crawling into bed, “Gem is in her room with one Eleven standing guard. I’ve still got one lead I want to check out.”

“I’ll inform the staff where I’m going so that they don’t think a changeling stole me away or something,” Bright Star smirks.

“Thanks, I’ll tell Gem you’re coming,” Two gives him a quick smile, and rushes off.

11-3: Descending into total chaos

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Two knocks on the door of queen Novo’s suite, and waits patiently under the watchful gazes of two hippogriff guards. The queen opens shortly, and gives Two a rather surprised look.

“Your Majesty, may I have a word?” Two summons her more diplomatic side. If her mother could do it, she can too, “It’s about the attack my king saved you from.”

“Come in,” Novo ushers Two inside her room with the strange, bottomless pool. However, despite her warm greeting she also has one of the guards stand by the door from the inside now. Two doesn’t comment on it, “How can I help you?”

“Gem was attacked about an hour ago,” says Two flatly, making Novo lean backwards in surprise, “I’m really tired of Celestia doing nothing, and all things point to the magical wards of this castle being something that is allowing the attacks to happen instead of stopping them. Now that more attacks happened, I just wanted to check your place for something I might have missed the first time when the Royal Guards rushed in to lock us up.”

“Oh, no problem,” Novo waves her foreleg, “Although I doubt you’ll find anything. The cleaning staff took their job seriously.”

“We’ll see,” Two bows, “Thank you for the opportunity anyway, your Majesty. Now, it would help if both you and your guard left me alone here, but if that isn’t an option, I just need you to not move, please.”

Ten minutes later, Two is on the way to Cadance’s and Shining Armor’s guest room, where her encounter ends in a similar fashion. In light of her growing suspicion, she visits the dungeons, and eventually ends up knocking on the door of princess Luna’s suite.

What opens the door is a visage of a alicorn with bags under her bloodshot eyes and dishevelled mane.

“What?” hisses Luna.

“May I come in?” asks Two, summoning her polite side again.

“As it looks that I will not have a chance to get a good day’s sleep, sure...” the grumbling alicorn disappears into the darkness of her suite, Two following in tow. Inside, Luna immediately heads towards a shiny, griffon-made coffee maker on her bedside table, “So?” she just says.

“I need to visit Celestia’s suite. I think I’ve got something that might help track down Star Trail, and maybe the lich.”

“Doubtful,” Luna smacks the coffee maker which starts rumbling, “They’re both teleporting from way away. I checked the drain on the magic wards every time they appeared.”

“Have you checked in the last hour? Because Star Trail just tried to kill Gem, and if it wasn’t for Anvil, he would have done so.”

“What?”

Two recaps what happened to Gem.

“-and I think Anvil knows more than she lets on. She said something about a nose, which made me think. I checked all scenes of the attacks again, and even now there is a faint, necrotic smell coupled with lab chemicals. I need to check Celestia’s suite just to be sure, it’s the last place where I haven’t been, but I think it’ll be there too.”

“And I suppose you’ll want to check the whole castle for come place they might be using to teleport to and regroup, or somewhere from where they might be twisting the castle protections for their use, am I right?”

“Exactly,” Two nods.

“Alright,” Luna points to the mirror, and leads Two through, “Speaking of which, why can’t you use those little guys you’ve got sitting around?” she points at one invisible Eleven curled up on a pillow atop Celestia’s dresser.

“Eleven wouldn’t smell it, and I don’t think anyone but the boss would notice,” Two replies with her nose pressed against the carpet, “It’s got something to do with me being a physical mix of warrior and infiltrator, which is highly unusual for us, since hives work the best if everyone has a clear role. On the other hole, we already have Eleven who is holes know what, so I suppose I’m the more normal one. Ah hah!” Two grins, “It’s not just Star Trail, even the lich leaves the same trail of chemicals. So, Star Trail is the decaying flesh and sharp scent, and the lich is only the chemicals. I think I can differentiate the two for sure now.”

“Hmmm...” Luna returns into her suite through the mirror. The Eleven ‘keeping an eye on her’ mumbles something in his sleep, and hugs the now empty pillow. When Two rejoins her, the princess’s horn starts glowing, “You’ll need this to get around the castle properly,” a white ball of light leaves Luna’s horn, and seeps into Two’s carapace, “It’s an indifference spell. It won’t trigger most alarms, and it will make sure anything you do remains ignored by ponies, unless you directly interact with them or do something obvious. That, coupled with your invisibility, should help you get anywhere. Do you need something to get around locks?”

Two shakes her head. Pony locks are nothing compared to dwarf contraptions, and she can pick most of those these days. She makes a mental note to thank Six for imparting on her the practical parts of his engineering course.

“If I have time, I can get through anything that’s not pure magic.”

“Then I suppose I’ll try to catch few more hours of sleep,” Luna sits down on the bed again, which makes Eleven’s ears perk up, “Oh, and one last thing,” a devious smile graces her blueberry lips, “The spell will last roughtly for eight hours, and paladin headquarters is just outside the castle grounds. I doubt they’re in on the attacks, but there still is a lot of anti-changeling sentiment among them, and since most of them are over a century old, I can’t rightfully blame them.”

Two chuckles, and turns invisible. Luna watches the door of her suite open and close. The Nightguards outside don’t react to Two manipulating the door in any way, a good sign that the spell is working perfectly even against her best.

***

“Hey, you changeling version of a walkie-talkie, get up!” Two links up with Eleven.

“What’s up, Two?” all Elevens currently piled up in Two’s guest room raise their heads at once, which would creep out any casual observer. The ones guarding Anvil, Cryo, Gem, Luna, and Celestia don’t react, just as expected.

“Meet me outside the castle in two minutes,” orders Two, “Everyone who isn’t busy. We’re going on a little trip, and I want you to watch my back.”

“Sure thing!”

A galloping herd of six Elevens startles the guards standing by the castle gate as they rush past, and head off through the castle grounds towards the gate to the city where Two is already waiting.

With Luna’s guidance, Two finds the paladin headquarters - a white, cathedral-like building with two statues of Celestia by the gate and a symbol of the sun above it. There are no guard around, but Two can feel the magic coursing through the whole building.

“Eleven, let’s do some scouting. Luna’s spell will work on me, but you won’t get in. I need you to observe the building from all sides, and stay connected to me in case the spell fails and the sun zealots get mad. If that happens, call Gem, Luna, and Celestia to get me out.”

“Am I looking out for anything in particular?” asks Eleven.

“Not really, just keep an eye on the general situation.”

Elevens scatter, climbing ledges of surrounding buildings, and looking for vantage points around the headquarters. Two opts against flying Eleven on some harder to reach places in case he’d need to get down on his own. In reality, she needed just one Eleven for communication, but this was a safety measure in case Star Trail recovered quickly, and attacked again. By now, Two is pretty sure that being outside the castle is safer than being inside. This way, she has her living communication device, Eleven is out of harm’s way and being helpful at the same time, and all key ponies have a pair of eyes on them.

What she has to do now is wait for the night.

***

With the blizzard over in less than an hour, One flew up again to confirm that the purple glimmer in the vast distance indeed was the magical dome protecting the Crystal Empire from the elements. Now, the shivering, four-strong group is on their way south, and One is getting more certain with each passing minute that she and Bubbles might be the only ones able to make the trek. No supplies for the presumed three-day trip aside, the lack of clothes is the biggest hurdle for Contradiction and Astray. The unicorn is using her telekinesis as a cow-catcher to plow her way through the snow while Astray is rubbing his shoulders with his hands crossed on his chest for some faint semblance of heat. Bubbles is helping as much as she can by riding on Connie’s back, tightly hugging her like the little heater she is, but it’s by far not enough, since she has to keep switching between the two. The hope is that the closer they get to the Crystal Empire, the warmer it will be, but any change of temperature is still at least a day and a half of walking away.

With a sigh, One turns her head as she hears Astray’s fresh coughing fit. This won’t work. At this rate, she’ll just bring two corpses who died of pneumonia with her.

“Hey, guys,” she stops, “You’ll never make it to the Crystal Empire like this. We need to go back for few hours.”

“What?!” Connie shoots her a tired but angry glare. Astray tries to say something, but as soon as he takes another breath of the freezing air, he starts coughing again.

One nods towards Astray.

“Whatever species he is, he’s not from around here-”

“Actually, I was found in the Crystal Empire and spent most of my life in an orphanage there,” Astray manages to form a coherent sentence.

“And that’s helping you how in this situation?” One rolls her eyes, “Spoiler alert - it isn’t. So shut up and listen. There’s a tunnel we use to travel between our hive and the Crystal Empire with several emergency exits along the way. I didn’t think we would need it, but… I was wrong.”

Telling them this, and even worse - letting them in is a direct threat to Brauheim and a violation of the secrecy rules, but having to explain two Silver Sun corpses to that crazy griffon would be worse. Probably.

“You’re telling us that now...” Connie sighs.

“Look, part of our peaceful existence stems from no one knowing where exactly our hive is,” lies One, “I wouldn’t be offering you this if I thought there was a more certain way of getting you to the Crystal Empire, but if I bring that guy’s coughed-out lungs, and your bony ass frozen inside a block of ice with me, everyone is going to have questions the boss will have to answer. I don’t like causing trouble for my king.”

Connie measures her, looks from her to the distant dot of the Crystal Empire and back, and then sighs. One is right, even if they might make it, it could cost a limb or cause some other kind of lasting damage. Besides, no matter how it hurts Connie’s pride to admit, if One wanted them dead, all she had to do was run off earlier.

“Fine, lead the way...”

***

The sneezing and coughing is in stereo now despite Bubbles’ best efforts to keep both Astray and Contradiction warm. They’re pushing through short, leafless shrubbery holding snow, which isn’t helping anything. The good part is that according to One’s familiarity with the area, they should be near one of the tunnel entrances. Now where could it-

With a loud roar, snow explodes in multiple places around the four travellers fighting the frost.

Astray raises his arm against the snow flying in his face, and all he catches is a tall and broad silhouette charging at him. He unsheathes his sword just in time to deflect a stab from a spear on pure instinct. The blow makes him stumble backwards with sheer force, though. From behind him, he hears a loud clank he can’t identify, nor has he the time to look around.

Connie reacts a little better, mostly due to complete lack of concern for the identity of the attackers, and while her telekinetic push is unfocused, it still tosses the nearest silhouette into the distance. Not trusting her frozen limbs to react properly, she simply flicks her horn against someone behind her who ends up tumbling backwards and cursing in some grunting language she can’t understand.

Bubbles is torn between the friend or foe question until she has to avoid a spear thrown her way, upon which she pounces at the attacking shadow’s head, claws at the ready.

The bursts of snow don’t impair One’s changeling eyes at all, though, and she reacts instantly. The attackers are minotaurs, and they are too far away from Rift for this to be some misunderstanding, not to mention that Rift minotaurs hunt simple animals, not ponies.

No, these fuc- bastards are wild headhunters. It seems that the Dark Prophet the minotaurs worship so hard left some of them alive.

This realization and calculation happens before the first minotaur is even on his legs, and the one closest to One never even gets there as she rips his head off with a single bite, and is instantly growing her classic curved blades on the back of her forelegs while jumping at the second enemy.

Three minotaurs are already dead when the one attacking Astray makes the critical mistake of backing away from the satyr’s slash, thus giving him time to aim his pistol and pull the trigger. Unfortunately, nothing happens.

Bubbles lands on the minotaur’s face, and immediately drops into the snow along with the top half of the mino severed in passing by One.

Similar thing happens when Connie, having telekinetically knocked her attackers away with enough force to definitely break ribs and bones, notices Astray’s pistol fail, and focuses her telekinesis into a thin edge which straight up slices the minotaur in two.

Seven minotaurs, five of who died within the first four seconds of the battle. One smirks to herself as she’s rushing through the snow towards the closer one of the two Contradiction ‘pushed’. A quick look at his caved-in chest makes One wince, as she recalls what it was like being on the receiving end ot Connie’s telekinesis. Not that she’s feels any semblance of sympathy towards the headhunter, of course.

With a quick flick of her hoof, she slits his throat, and does the same to the final one who doesn’t even try to run, only raises his arms to punch her with zero chance of succeeding.

One returns to the others with a scowl.

“These guys weren’t lying in wait just for the hole of it,” she transforms her hoof into claws, and pulls at a shrub seemingly in random. A thick sheet of metal covered in short grass, snow, and dirt lifts up, revealing a ladder down, “Get inside.”

“You’re not coming?” asks Connie while Astray and Bubbles are climbing down.

“There are only four exits between our hive and the Crystal Empire. The fact that they waited for us or someone to come in or out of the hole means this headhunter clan knows about the entrance, and might try to hunt my hive. I need to figure out where they are, and make them leave,” explains One, “They can’t be far, just give me an hour at most. It’s warmer down there, or at least there’s no wind.”

Connie nods, and resumes climbing down. Above her, the trap door closes, leaving her in complete darkness. Thankfully, the ladder is really well done, so that climbing with hooves isn’t a big deal even though those seem made for someone small even in comparison to a changeling drone. Eventually, faint, green shimmer greets her, and she finds Astray sitting on the floor of a tunnel the walls of which emit the glow melding the complete darkness. It must be enough for changelings to see perfectly here, but she can barely make out anything more than a pony length away. Bubbles is sitting in Astray’s lap in an effort to warm him up.

“Get those clothes off,” she nods at Astray.

“Won’t sir Cromach be jealous?” Astray smirks, rubbing his frozen everything. Bubbles chuckles.

“Not if he doesn’t know,” Connie winks at him. The jovial moment passes immediately as she orders, “Bubbles, get up there again and track One. I doubt she has any reason to leave us down here for something to eat, but I want an eye on her.”

Bubbles knows better than to argue with Connie. Her paranoi- wariness saved them many times before, and tracking a changeling in the snow can’t be too difficult. As she climbs up, Astray strip, sits on the pile of his clothes, and Connie hugs him from the back to insulate his hairless back from the tunnel wall.

***

It’s night in Canterlot when Eleven feels eyes on him. He doesn’t know why or how, but he is certain someone is watching him. He can faintly sense Two still snooping around the paladin HQ, and there haven’t been any problems yet. However, he’s nothing if not observant. After all, he has many times more eyes than anyone else.

Several minutes of shuffling his bodies around his chosen vantage points later, he catches a shadow moving around the top of the four watchtowers of the headquarters to get a better view of his one body hiding by the chimney on the roof. Eleven wonders why he hasn’t noticed it earlier, but it might just be a testament to the sneakiness of whoever is watching him.

He turns his free bodies invisible while keeping the rooftop one stationary not to strain his concentration too much. He’s already having trouble synchronizing himself with bodies so far apart, but he can clearly feel himself getting better at self-control with each passing hour.

The invisible bodies sneak up on the original sneaker, and measure the stallion. Good news, it’s not the big baddie Star Trail or the lich waiting to strike. It’s a dark purple batpony with yellow eyes and grey mane wearing nothing but horseshoes. As the first Eleven silently climbs over the railing atop the watchtower, he notes that what from outside looked like a wall is see-through from the inside. The batpony and anyone on watch must have much better view of the situation than Eleven suspected.

What the batpony doesn’t expect is that while he’s watching Eleven through the ‘wall’, four other Elevens are gathering behind him. The rooftop Eleven shifts, and hides behind the chimney, out of the batpony’s view. Clicking his teeth in annoynace, the batpony stands up, and peeks over the railing. When he still can’t see Eleven, he spreads his wings, and-

“Who are you, sneaky guy?!” two Elevens jump on his forelegs, one on his back, and one remains in front of the batpony, all turning visible at once.

He tries to shake Elevens off at first, which doesn’t prove too smart.

“Eleven, I presume?” he freezes when he feels too many tiny teeth clamp around his legs and the back of his neck.

“No, that’s me,” pouts Eleven, “Who are you?”

Despite his situation, the corner of the batpony’s mouth curls up. He salutes with his foreleg as well as the still attached Eleven.

“Starshine. I’m a member of the Intelligence Service tasked with keeping an eye on you.”

“Why?”

“Considering the recent attacks, the princesses need some additional protection for their guests when they’re outside the castle.”

Eleven measures him.

“And you’re not lying, are you?” he asks. He doesn’t exactly have a better way of questioning the guy.

“Two, Two Two Two!” he calls out via her link, “I caught a guy spying on me! He says he’s an intelligent servant!”

“Intelligence service?” Two taps directly into Eleven’s mind instead of having him describe the situation, “Hmm, we can’t really confirm or deny what he said, so just let him do his thing and don’t get hurt.”

“Alrighty!” replies Eleven, “How are things on your end?”

“Lousy,” Two’s disappointment is palpable, “Paladins don’t like us, that’s given, but most don’t like any creatures other than ponies. However, I haven’t found anything, and I’m almost done here. I need to make them a bit more likely to talk, and I have a plan, but it might take an hour or two more.”

“Oh?”

“I put my venom into their drinks for tonight’s common dinner. That’s already over, so I’ll start the questioning once they split up into their rooms. Is anything going on inside the castle?”

“Nope, all clear. Princess Luna has woken up, princess Celestia is going to sleep, miss Gem is asleep with Bright Star in her room, and that big minotaur lady is in the bath and she told me I could come too, but I told her I was taught it wasn’t polite and that I would stay outside. Oh, and miss Cryo is in the workshop with prince Rutherford again. Although there’s a yak guard outside this time. With earplugs.”

“Heh, at least someone’s going to have a worthwhile night.”

***

Despite the loud whistling of wind, tracking One isn’t difficult by any measure. Lightweight Bubbles doesn’t sink into the snow, and leaves a much smaller set of hoofsteps parallel to the changeling’s.

“Weird, it doesn’t look as if she was trying to sneak up on anyone...” Bubbles whispers to herself.

She hears a poof from the left as if something fell into the deep snow, but can’t see anything. With a shrug, she resumes following One’s trail, and eventually she notices her standing above a fallen minotaur, and biting his neck. Bubbles lowers herself into the snow to avoid being spotted, and shuffles closer as sneakily as she can. She already has enough of a disadvantage in this white and off-green terrain with her rusty color scheme, but at least the high wind is masking the noise.

One asks something Bubbles can’t hear, the minotaur replies, upon which a flash of green envelops One’s hoof just as she brings it down, and walks away. It takes a short while for Bubbles to wait until One is mostly out of sight, and then she approaches the minotaur. Judging from her experience with Anvil, the minotaur is young. Correction - was young. His head has been mostly severed from his body with a clean cut. Bubbles whimpers, the young, dead hunter immediately reminding her of Astray currently trying not to freeze to death.

This time, she notices some shuffling and rustling of the shrubs quickly fading away. Probably just some animal she spooked.

Short time later, Bubbles catches up with One again who is in a pretty much the same position, only with a different minotaur. This time, though, the minotaur gets up and walks away as if One wasn’t there at all. Bubbles tilts her head in confusion. What has One been doing?

Another ten or so minutes later, she follows One who suddenly jumps into the shrubs to the left, and Bubbles hears quiet struggle. Another minotaur stands up, exchanges few words with One, and then-

Once again, Bubbles hears a synchronized loud roar from everywhere around, immediately followed by dozens of sources of rustling and poofing from the snow. Even someone as gullible as Bubbles realizes instantly that all the previous noises she heard must have been minotaurs following her.

One looks from side to side, and spots Bubbles rushing towards her along with what has to be a full tribe of northern minotaur headhunters.

Greeeeat, she followed me, and they followed her. Oh well. I tried to be all peaceful and diplomatic about it, but I’m not one to refuse a final solution if it offers itself.

Arming her legs, all four this time, One charges the loop of minotaurs quickly tightening up around both Bubbles and herself.

Bubbles is quick, but not used to fighting in belly-deep, at least for her, snow, and a minotaur quickly stabs her in the mouth with a spear. To his horror, Bubbles just snaps her jaws shut, biting the spear head off and spitting it out. However, a large, stone warhammer of another minotaur hits her straight in the back of her head, sending her into the snow. Now, for a demonic creature like Bubbles, damage from non-magical weapons is more a theory than a threat. Unfortunately, rules of physics apply to everything else around her, and the light demonette gets punted like a golf ball crossed with tumbleweed.

Attacking One is a completely different cup of tea. Having had a quick refill of lust from the bitten and interrogated minotaurs, she has enough energy to go wild. Imagine fighting a creature with perfect reflexes, a creature for whom the entire fight is moving at one fiftieth of speed, giving her enough time to think of the perfect action to take, fast enough to react on that decision, and a creature who at melee range can hear anything, feel the air being cleaved by a weapon, and even smell sweat as well as natural odors.

That is what fighting One in melee is like. Numbers don’t count, since several dozen minotaurs simply aren’t enough to tire her out. They don’t have enough raw strength to threaten her, as she can simply shrug off most of their blows if she considers it worth for the opportunity to instantly kill her target. And finally, they simply can’t outskill her. This is a wild tribe of hunters, not some excellent fighters who honed their combat skills to perfection.

One by one, the minotaurs drop.

Bubbles looks up, and blocks the warhammer going down again with her forelegs. The strike shakes her whole body, once again without any visible damage, but it certainly hurts a bit. The minotaur growls, raising his weapon again. Hitting Bubbles is like hitting a rubber ball…

...a rubber ball with supremely sharp and tought teeth who finally comes to the conclusion that any kind of peaceful solution is out of the realm of possibility.

As the minotaur swings down again, Bubbles curls up to dodge, and as the hammer buries itself into the ground, she simply bites half of the weapon handle off. She doesn’t have One’s level of reflexes, but in comparison to the minotaurs she’s crazy quick as well. As long as she doesn’t get surrounded, she knows she’ll be okay.

At this point, though, there isn’t anyone to surround her anymore.

As all sounds other than the whistling of wind and some groaning are gone, Bubbles turns her head from side to side so fast her big ears flop. The only thing to see is One covered from head to hooves in blood and surrounded by piles of corpses. None of the minotaurs ran, or maybe they didn’t even get the chance.

The latter proves to be right as One casually aproaches one of the minotaurs previously busy with Bubbles, and severs his spine at the neck.

“Hey, you don’t have to kill the defense-” Bubbles freezes when One shoots her an annoyed glare.

“I wouldn’t have had to kill anyone if you didn’t alert the whole tribe on you and let them set up an ambush!” One walks over to a fairly young minotaur attempting to push himself up from his knees. That, clearly, is impossible due to the severed tendons on tha back of his left leg.

Bubbles jumps towards him, smiles, and raises her forelegs.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she lowers her normally high-pitched, happy voice to a calming purr, “It’s okay, we won’t hurt you. Why did you do this?”

One hacks his head off with a single blow, blood spraying all over Bubbles’ face.

“Y- You- you just- killed him!” the demonette mumbles in shock.

“I know these clans. They refused to join Rift, and hunt down AND EAT even other minotaurs doing their business outside,” One replies in a matter-of-fact tone.

“He was just young, like Astray. We could have explained-” Bubbles’ eyes tear up.

“They don’t speak ponish,” says One.

“YOU ARE A MURDERING MONSTER!” Bubbles lunges at One’s neck, mouth open.

She doesn’t expect One to shapeshift her hoof into a set of claws, grab her by her muzzle mid-air, squeeze her jaw shut, and throw her against the ground so hard Bubbles bounces off. There’s no real damage done, though, and Bubbles is on all fours in an instant again.

“I beat the sh- snot out of a real demon, and your monstrous unicorn friend isn’t here to save you. Don’t force me to create more enemies for my king,” One growls back.

At this point, Bubbles just sees red.

“Stooooop...” groans One, clearly annoyed even further. This time Bubbles surprises her by dodging her kick, and biting her fetlock off at the same time, “Alright, no more miss nice One.”

As Bubbles gets under One, the changeling simply flies upwards, and crosses her forelegs on her chest, the separated fetlock regrowing within seconds.

Bubbles howls, looks upwards, and jumps like a rocket straight at One.

You’re almost as fast as I am, but you can’t dodge in mid-air, you feral idiot.

With a quick buzz of her wings, One dodges out of the way so that the top of Bubbles’ trajectory is straight in front of her, then she rams her claws straight through Bubbles’ chest. The demonette coughs out blood, looking in disbelief and horror at the foreleg embedded inside her chest.

“Yes, adding silver or other specialized metals to my chitin is perfectly within my power. I’m not as good as Gem, but it’s more than enough for the likes of you,” One bares her fangs, “Now calm down and focus on the mission before I switch holes and make you into a sock puppet!”

With a flick of her foreleg, she throws Bubbles on the ground, fairly sure the demonette will survive it. She lands at her side shortly after, and starts walking back to the Crystal Empire tunnel access. In few moments, she hears a dragging noise from behind which gradually turns to wheezing and shuffling.

One sighs.

Just how am I going to explain this to the other two…?

***

Back in Canterlot and in the present, Elevens wave as one to the Intelligence Service agent high on the roof, and meet up with Two leaving the paladin HQ.

“Anything?” he asks, despite being fairly certain that if she discovered something helpful she would have shared it via a hive link already.

“I think the paladins are clean, no way around it,” Two sighs as she leads the way through darkness of late night Canterlot, “They did say that they had nothing to do with the setting up of the magical wards, they only use them as a beacon, power source, and some other long words I need to ask Seven about later. In essence, they just kept repeating ‘The wizards did it, the wizards did it’.”

“I see,” Elevens beam at her, “So what now?”

“The wizards did it, Eleven.”

“We go visit the wizards? Are we allowed to?” he asks.

“Allowed or not, Luna’s spell is still working, so I don’t see any harm in having a look around. We’ll do it the same way like with the paladins.”

After nearly an hour of searching, they approach a complex of several white buildings and tall towers, some of which hang suspended in the air, only accessible through gravity-defying staircases. Elevens scatter around, looking for vantage points, and Two, after taking a deep breath and fiddling with the lock for a minute, walks straight through the front door. Not being suspicious is her best protection, if there is anything as ‘not suspicious’ about breaking inside this place around three o’clock at night.

As she enters the lobby, the door slams shut behind her, and two large unicorn statues made of white marble by the sides of the door step down from their pedestals, horns glowing red aimed at Two. In a flash of light, a real unicorn wearing a gold-trimmed, dark blue robe, and glasses joins them

Okay, so maybe getting into the place filled with Equestria’s top magicians might require more than just some basic spell, even when cast by Luna.

“Uhh, I can explain?” Two sits down and raises her forelegs as a warning bolt of lightning crackles and earths itself into the floor next to her, “Nevermind, I surrender unconditionally.”

12-1: No mysteries left

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The secret access to the connecting tunnel between Crystal Empire and Brauheim opens again.

“Get inside,” One frowns at Bubbles who has gradually recovered enough strength to limp at reasonable speed, “And tell the other two not to do anything stupid. You’re covered in blood.”

While One was able to have the top molecular level of her chitin simply flake off along with minotaur and Bubbles’ blood, the demonette didn’t get the chance to take a bath, and dragging herself through the snow just couldn’t compare.

Hissing as pain and burning feeling shoot through her chest, Bubbles climbs down the ladder. One climbs into the hole after a brief pause to give Bubbles some space as well as a chance to talk to Contradiction. From her point of view, Astray might have some special role in their team, but to her he simply isn’t a threat under any circumstances.

Taking a breath to steady herself, she jumps down the last few steps, and reinforces her chitin just in case.

Her world blurs as the force that a fully loaded freight train would be jealous of blasts her through the tunnel.

So much for staying calm and collected.

One knows she’s going to get only one proper shot before she’s going to have to either face her death or have to kill Contradiction. Speaking of the unicorn, she’s walking towards her, the glimmer around her horn twisting the air of the tunnel into eldritch shapes.

One pounces forward, not at blinding speed which would force the unicorn to punt her away again, but at a pace normal for a quadruped. As expected, she feels the grip of overpowering telekinesis on her whole body suspending her in the air.

“You...” Contradiction hisses, eyes narrowed and teeth bared.

“I’ll give you one last chance-” One speaks up before telekinesis clamps her mouth shut.

Oh well, I tried.

Ever since their last encounter, she’s been preparing a trick just for this eventuality. If One has to get defeated, she doesn’t like to remain defeated for long. Steadying herself, she knows she needs to do this accurately and quickly. With that in mind, she shrinks a little, makes her butt and thighs a lot squishier, and turns the upper layer of her chitin into extremely viscous and slippery goo. Contradiction’s mental grip tightens in response to her thinking One is trying to wiggle free, but all iher unnatural mental strength does is that it squeezes One forward at speed not even the changeling herself was expecting.

That means two- three things. One, Connie is vastly more powerful than One thought and was going easy on her last time. Two, she was ready to go all out on One this time, which makes what happens next a little easier. And three, all One has to do while flying by is flick the base of Connie’s horn with her hoof.

The force makes Contradiction do a backflip, and One hits something- someone soft.

“Oooooof!” the impact makes Astray trying to catch her fly off, but he doesn’t let go of One who, when their fall ends, quickly turns her head to see Contradiction lying and groaning on the floor.

The changeling crosses her forelegs on Astray’s chest, raising an eyebrow.

“So there is one of you with a brain after all.”

“You’re a lot… heavier than I… thought...” Astray pushes One off of him, rubs his torso to check for broken ribs, and quickly stumbles off to Connie.

“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” One passes by him, and puts her hoof against Connie’s horn, which makes her even in her complete daze freeze, and so do Astray and Bubbles, “Now listen to me, or I’ll turn her into a rather skinny earthpony!”

She looks around, and when no one moves, she speaks again:

“I wanted to hunt down the leader of the minotaur tribe, hear from him whether he really knew about the tunnel entrance or whether they just picked a random spot to ambush us, and force him to take his clan elswhere if they did. I can be very persuasive even though I’m not an infiltrator. You sent Bubbles after me. You aren’t used to working in the snow, that much is clear, so they were able to follow her, group up, and attack at once. I had to kill everyone. Headhunters are cannibals and merciless killers. Bubbles couldn’t handle me cleaning up, and attacked me. Now stop trying to piss me off, and I’ll get you back to Canterlot in one piece. I could go for multiple pieces too, but then I’d have to explain myself to my king whom your boss dragged off who knows where!”

“Bubbles, is that true?” Astray looks at the dishevelled demonette who lowers her head, and nods slowly.

“Yes, it is...” she mumbles, “I’m sorry...”

Astray walks over to Connie, gets down on one knee, and strokes her mane.

“Can you stand?” he asks.

“I think I can… blink...” she mutters, “My neck...”

Astray lowers himself into a kneeling sit, and puts Connie’s head in his lap to keep her neck level while she fights the urge to throw up.

“I don’t mind taking a break, but the temperature here is comfortable for us changelings more than for you,” One walks over to the drying pile of Astray’s clothes and brings it over.

“She needs rest. I’ll have to manage,” replies Astray, carefully putting his cloth shirt back on. Bubbles hops on him, curling around his neck like a living scarf.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles again.

“Don’t worry about it, Bubbly. The important part is that we’re all in one piece and not freezing to death… as quickly.”

One smiles.

Heh, now I know exactly what your role in your team is. You’re not the commander, you’re like my boss. The part without which all the others would rip each other’s throats out in five minutes.

***

Two was brought into some kind of a board room on the ground floor of the wizard orders, with a simple round table surrounded by chairs, several blackboards, and a lectern in the front. The two marble golems are standing by the door, as the living unicorn ushered her into one of the seats, and sat down across the table from her. To her surprise, he didn’t bother putting a suppressor on her horn or anything.

“Alright, miss changeling, what are you doing here under the influence of this exceedingly intriguing piece of magic?” the unicorn chuckles, but his cold gaze doesn’t leave Two for a moment, “Although if it is indeed your doing, I’d prefer that you teach here rather than try to invade in the middle of the night.”

Two ponders trying to talk her way out of this, but in the end comes to the conclusion that she, in fact, isn’t doing anything wrong. She’s here basically on royal orders, and she’s trying to prevent bloodshed that could start a worldwide conflict.

In light of that, she crosses her forelegs on her chest, and looks the wizard straight in the eyes.

“Princess Luna sent me. The indifference spell is her doing.”

“Oh my, is that so?” the unicorn raises an eyebrow, clearly not persuaded.

“I’m investigating the cause of several attacks on delegates of the royal summit. So far, we’ve been able to prevent anything fatal from happening, but it was so so. With princess Luna’s help and that of the paladins, we think the attacker is using the magical ward matrix of the castle against us.”

“I see...”

“Look, we can do it the stupid way, and you can call the guards. They will waste time checking up on me and will just confirm my story in the end anyway. Or you can help me by answering several questions about the castle protection system and-”

“Let me stop you right there, young lady,” the unicorn frowns, “The system of castle wards is of the highest importance to the Orders, and unless you bring something extremely official with you I won’t even bother looking up which unicorns are repsonsible for the last changes or check-ups, much less the overall design. Now, I believe that you have been sent here, and the complexity as well as magical signature of your little spell certainly is more than enough for me to believe that an archmage of princess Luna’s caliber is behind it, but some of the warding predates even her betrayal and imprisonment on the moon, so it is by far not enough for me to help you. In light of that, I will not press charges, and the golems will escort you outside. Please, don’t try to get in again, or we would have to do things, as you so eloquently put it, the stupid way.”

Two sighs, and gets up from her chair. The golems open the door, and lead her out as the unicorn teleports away. Two isn’t stupid enough to try anything even without direct pony supervision, and just follows the walking statues outside.

As soon as she leaves the building, her hive link connects to panicking Eleven.

“It’s okay, Eleven, they didn’t hurt me.”

“That’s not it, Two!” Eleven’s mental voice is shaking and impatient, and shows that if the changeling was around, he would be runing from side to side like a frightened dog, “Something bad happened in the castle, I know it! Something really bad.”

Chill runs down Two’s spine. There isn’t much ‘really bad’ could mean other than the lich and Star Trail… again!

“Let’s get moving. We won’t find out anything here anyway, they saw through Luna’s spell immediately. Any clues on what’s going on?” she asks as she flies low above the streets at speed with which scattered Elevens can keep up.

“No, my bodies are too far. I’m not that useful at these distances. I just feel it.”

“Then let’s haul ass. I’m not going to go ahead and leave you alone and exposed.”

***

This late at night, warlord Darkhorn certainly wasn’t expecting to be woken up by knocking on his door. He immediately grits his teeth, expecting the worst. This summit has been eventful to say the least, and no unusual interruptions meant something good. Quickly putting on his belt with a combat dagger in addition to his breeches, he opened the door.

“Warlord, I have an urgent message from queen Chrysalis for you,” said Sunder, a member of his entourage currently on door guard.

“Chrysalis? What does she want?” Darkhorn raised an eyebrow.

“One of her changelings needs to talk to you in private.”

Darkhorn is enough of a diplomat not to twitch a muscle as the gears in his head start moving.

“What could she want from me, especially this late?”

“I don’t know, but the changeling told me to tell you to come alone,” Sunder immediately shakes his head, “I smell a rat, and I’m not letting that happen.”

Darkhorn patted his shoulder.

“You’re a good warrior, Sunder. Where am I supposed to go?”

“Top floor balcony that has two lavender hangers, one on each side.”

“Alright, let’s see what the queen of lies wants from us.”

The top floor is dark at night. Darkhorn thinks he heard some strange noises from the rafters hidden in pitch blackness, but the darkness in these halls can’t be natural, as it looks like even starlight can’t get inside.

Eventually, they find the balcony, open the glass pane door, and walk into the fresh air. The night seems much more peaceful and less oppressive outside, with the faint lights of sleeping Canterlot down in the distance.

There’s no one on the balcony, though, changeling or otherwise.

“I assumed they would be waiting here already,” comments Darkhorn, turning his back to the railing, and looking back into the castle through the door, “As far as I know, the other changelings aren’t under house arrest like their queen, not that it would stop them.”

Sunder stretches his arms, and takes a deep breath.

“Maybe they might fly by,” he leans over the ornate railing to get a better view.

Darkhorn nods, and does the same.

What he feels next is Sunder’s hand grabbing the back of his belt and pushing him over the railing into the darkness.

***

The window of Gem’s room opens in complete silence, letting in a slick, black equine completely unbothered by the deep night. The figure heads straight towards the bed with the oblivious changeling recovering from Star Trail’s attack, and after the first few steps, green fire envelops its forelegs, adding sharp blades to its hooves.

It stops above the bed, raises the blades, and is suddenly staring into Gem’s color-shifting eyes.

-FREEZE!-

Gem’s mental command only makes the changeling twitch, as if fighting the impulse to ram the hoof blades through Gem’s throat. Normally, such command would be impossible to refuse by anyone not under supreme orders of Chrysalis, her dad, or someone with mental fortitude of her mother, but against this changeling it only buys Gem wrapped in a blanket a second.

She needs more time, and she doesn’t have it.

The darkness bursts into light as flames surround the edge of a paladin sword flying from under Gem’s pillow and hacking the changeling’s forelegs off in one swing.

Bright Star, sitting on a chair by Gem’s door hidden by a spell similar to the one Luna cast on Two, only obviously a much lesser version, walks over to the bed.

“I can’t get into her head,” says Gem in disbelief, freeing herself from the blanket burrito.

“What does it mean?” asks Bright Star, knowing Gem enough to be sure that anything she says in a situation like this has reason and is not just innane chatter.

“She’s a low tier changeling,” Gem walks over to the foreleg-less changeling on the floor, stumps cauterized by the flame of Bright Star’s sword, “By all means I should be able to connect to her and control her completely, but I can’t.”

“One of Chrysalis’s then?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter. It’s not as if she was under more powerful orders or suggestions, her mind is just… all wrong,” Gem pushes the changeling’s chest gently against the floor, and grabs her cheeks to make her look Gem in the eyes.

“Diiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!” the changeling screeches like a feral hyena, and snaps her jaws at Gem’s forelegs.

“Aaah?!” Gem jumps backwards on reflex, and stumbles into a wardrobe door as the drooling and snarling changeling pushes herself with her hind legs straight towards her.
Bright Star’s sword hacks her head off, finally extinguishing the light in those teal and completely insane eyes.

“I...” Gem finds herself breathing heavily and trembling, “I’ve never met a changeling I couldn’t at least connect to… or find a hive link… but this...”

“We need to pay the good old queen a little visit, it seems,” Bright Star scowls, the sword circling around him, “Stay behind me, Gem. I’ll be damned if I bring you back to your dad in less than mint condition.”

“Heh heheh...” Gem chuckles nervously, “If you weren’t married, Bright Star, the things I would do to you would be illegal in most of the civilized world.”

***

Cryo is sitting in the Royal Guard workshop on the castle grounds next to a green cocoon containing Rutherford grinning from ear to ear, basking in his love and lust saturating the goo.

The door opens, and a heavily armored yak guard enters holding a lamp. He… or she walks over to Cryo who can’t exactly figure out yak gender without a direct look, salutes, and looks at Rutherford’s gooey prison.

“I have a message for prince Ruth-”

With one stomp of both of her forelegs, Cryo crushes the yak into paste.

“What were you?” she asks the empty room.

What must have happened to the guards outside to let this… thing inside is irrelevant. Cryo is in here, and with her the cocoon is safe. Boss beard wants her to be diplomatic, and leaving beard loaf alone would be dangerous. With her, nothing can threaten the diplomacy between boss beard and beard loaf.

On the other hole, it doesn’t hurt to ask. She connects to invisible Eleven watching the situation in horror from the corner table.

“Hey, weird beard, what’s going on?”

“Everything is wrong!”

“Geez, you think?” Cryo rolls her eyes, “Stay here and keep me informed in case you see something elsewhere. I’ll need all my crappy senses to keep this place safe. Don’t worry, big blue momma will protect you.”

***

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Eleven cries out as the separate experiences of his bodies merge into one.

Two, buzzing through the streets, overrides the physical control of the herd of Elevens behind her, sorting them by distance and strength of hive link presence, and makes the bodies keep running like puppets as she feels Eleven’s actual control crumble completely,

“Eleven?” she asks when she has firm control over his bodies.

“Run straight to the dungeons,” is all Eleven’s weak and confused hive link can transfer.

Two enters the castle grounds, and while there doesn’t seem to be any increase in the amount of guards around, a lot of the castle windows are lit up, namely on the second floor where the guest rooms are. That can’t be a good thing.

“Cryo, Gem? What the hole is going on?”

“I crushed a weird changeling disguised as beard loaf,” responds Cryo, “I don’t know what to do, so I’m keeping my tiny beard and head beard loaf safe. Gemstone beard agreed.”

“Two, I’m glad you’re okay,” Gem replies a moment later, “Chrysalis’ changelings tried to assassinate all the summit leaders barring the princesses. Chrysalis has been imprisoned in the dungeons, and everyone is mega pissed.”

“I’ll be right there!”

Gem allows Two to look through her eyes, and what Two sees makes her bite her lip.

All summit rulers with the exception of Rutherford are standing in a circular room, with Celestia towering over Chrysalis chained to a pillar in the center of the cell and wearing a complex magic suppressor twining all over her long, gnarled horn.

“Look, if you think about it, I am the victim here!” barks Chrysalis.

“SHUT UP!” dragon lord Ember growls at the slumped queen, raising her arm.

“Please, don’t,” Gem limps forward, her voice exhausted and cracks all over her chitin from her previous beating by Star Trail clearly visible.

“Oh great… changelings again,” Ivan Ivanov snorts in contempt, earning Bright Star’s furious glare, followed by the paladin marching towards him, raising his hoof against the stunned and with each step more and more terrified unicorn.

“No violence,” Gem breathes out simply, “Peace is our only way out of this, if any of you are willing to listen.”

“Oh my oh my...” Two hears a voice inside her head after feeling a mental touch she can’t resist at all sorting through her memories of recent days within a second, “Two, report to Luna with what you found, and return to the wizard orders with Anvil. I’m hearing she made quite the impression last time she was there.”

“W- what?” Two can’t resist the smile creeping on her face as she stops in the middle of a hallway, and slowly turns around.

“Did I stutter?”

“N- no,” Two’s eyes tear up, and she starts running up the castle staircases.

“Good, honey.”

“Her changelings just tried to kill EVERYONE and you’re going to defend her?” one of the zebra delegates, Zarach if Gem recalls correctly, bares his teeth at Gem.

“Including me,” Gem breathes out, ears splayed back.

“Oh suuuure, as if we could believe that-”

His objection is interrupted by the door of the sealing cell slamming open, and letting in a white figure taller than most of them.

“Making an ass of yourself again, Zarach? You’re as shit at diplomacy as you are at seducing changelings,” Cromach unceremoniously drops Twilight on the floor in front of everyone, earning a round of gasps and Celestia rushing towards him, “And you, Sunny Buns, should be thanking king totally-and-definitely-beard for getting us to her in time, otherwise I’d still be fiddling with some dumbass cogs in Magnus’ tower.”

“I’d love to say I’m glad to be back, but seeing all of you snarling at my daughter would make that a lie,” I follow Cromach inside, and Three riding on my back waves at everyone with both forelegs, “And I’m really tired of your bullshit, so everyone will shut up now and listen to Cromach, or they get a chair in the face.”

“Ooof, immediately with the big guns,” Cromach snickers, “Aaanyway, Sunny, I’m actually tired of your lazy ass too, so unless you want to explain to everyone here why you’re keeping them in the danger zone by not doing anything about castle wards, AND complete dissolution of any cooperation with the Silver Sun, you’re going to strip the castle magical wards immediately and start rebuilding them from scratch. Anvil and one of boss’ underlings -see what I did there?- are already talking to Luna, and will be heading to the United Orders immediately to get those lazy asses here with their beds if necessary.”

“Look, this-” Celestia’s eyes dart from Cromach to Twilight, and her mouth open to protest or threaten closes when faced with the glares of the other rulers.

“Don’t fuck with me, Celestia!” Cromach hisses at her, green lightning arcing through his foreleg into the floor, “You cost me everything, and I’m still here trying to help for some Hope-damned reason!”

I clear my throat, which for some strange reason works for shutting everyone up.

“Your Highness, it will all make sense when we tell you what Magnus explained to us, but as Cromach said, the castle wards are what is making the attacks happen,” I look down as Twilight groans, “Oh, and you should sort this out too. We saved her from Arcane Hex’s attack.”

“Arcane Hex?” Celestia blinks.

I growl as I finally unconsciously sort through everyone’s memories, and come to the part where One disappeared.

I sigh.

“Your Highness, before I do something really stupid because the love of my life jumped into some unstable hole in reality while protecting you, let’s disable the magic wards. That, or I and all my changelings leave immediately, because this place isn’t safe. When the next attack inevitably happens, I won’t be there to stop it.”

“And neither will my team, what’s left of it,” adds Cromach.

“The same goes for the delegation from Rift,” Darkhorn scowls at Celestia, “I owe my life to the Nightguards who caught me falling from the top floor, and disabled the changeling impersonating my friend, but those serve your sister, not you.”

Neat. That should keep her focused on the problem at hoof.

***

After calling the Royal Guards to take Twilight away, and sending Bright Star in the official capacity of paladins to join Anvil and Two on the way back to the wizards, the other rulers eventually left Cromach, Celestia, Gem, and myself alone with Chrysalis. They grumbled about it a lot, but Celestia eventually persuaded them by saying that mental magic was involved and they didn’t know anything about it.

She said it much more diplomatically, of course.

“You know, there used to be a time when I would pay good money to be in this position, if I had any,” I smirk at Chrysalis who gives me an unimpressed look.

“Good, you can jack off to this image later,” she retorts, “Now can you please do that thing you goody two-horseshoes do and explain to our royal company that I have nothing to do with what happened just like last time?”

The thick cell door opens, letting in Luna, one Nightguard carrying a dead changeling, and Eleven riding on Luna’s back.

“I told Eleven to have someone bring one of tonight’s attackers here for examination,” explains Gem, “And, if you don’t mind me repeating this, I doubt Chrysalis had anything to do with the attack.”

“Do you have any proof? Anything I could present to the rulers to calm them down?” asks Celestia.

“Nothing they would understand,” Gem shakes her head.

“What she’s trying to say is that none of those morons can directly see into the heads of others like we can,” Chrysalis nods towards the body as much as the chains around her neck allow her, “Look, I did a thorough examination of my changeling who attacked Vargaz, and I can feel the same thing from this one. I can share my experiences with boss and Gem here if you take this damn thing off of my horn.”

To the surprise of everyone, Luna immediately does so, looks at everyone, and shrugs.

“There are two alicorns here, one divine-touched griffon, and a second changeling king. I have some respect for Chrysalis, but if she tries something in this company she’s eating a can of Raid faster than she can say bzzz.”

“Rude...” Chrysalis pouts, her memories of performing the examination of one of her best, “True, but still rude.”

“Just as I thought,” Gem nods, “It’s exactly the same, or slightly more polished this time. These weren’t changeling minds. They were transformed by some… magic, I assume. Their mental links have been forced closed and left with only the order to kill. Strangely enough, you two haven’t been targeted,” Gem looks at the royal sisters.

“Now there’s something you should be thanking me for not sharing previously, hmmm?” Chrysalis sticks her tongue out at Celestia.

“Gem, do you mind letting me take a peek inside your head?” Luna walks over to her.

“Ummmm...”

“I’ll help you kick Luna out if she gets a bit too intrusive, honey,” I reassure Gem.

“Alright,” she agrees in the end.

“Simply focus on your knowledge about the attackers,” Luna instructs her, and closes her eyes.

I feel a surge of subtle yet powerful magic scan the forefront of Gem’s thoughts, and quickly withdraw.

“It wasn’t magic,” says Luna, “It was the stolen divinity. Magic capable of completely rebuilding the brain leaves unmistakable marks and requires physical intevrention. I think that our lich is behind it. Why? I assume to cause some international chaos, or specifically global hatred for changelings. What Gem here identified as ‘more polished’ changes in the minds of tonight’s attackers to me is the proof of the lich getting used to the stolen divine power.”

“Which smoothly brings us to the lich being Arcane Hex and working with Star Trail to resurrect himself and gain the kind of immortality you alicorns have.”

“Should I know the name?” asks Luna, “Arcane Hex, not Star Trail. I’m familiar with king Beard’s exploits.”

“Not particularly,” Celestia shakes her head, “He used to be one of the best magicians in the United Orders, and he taught advanced courses in the School for Gifted Unicorns. Last year, he orchestrated a theft of two life giving rings I meant as a wedding gift for two Silver Sun members who saved us from the Vigil cult. Cromach and his team fought him in the old mines and collapsed part of the main shaft during the battle. Everyone presumed Arcane Hex died in the cave-in.”

“So you didn’t bother having the top wizards rebuild the castle ward system because you assumed that the head traitor who was behind most of the recent big changes to it, especially after Chrysalis’ invasion, could use them against you. Well, that time is over,” Cromach finishes the thought, “I get the amount of required resources, but it’s either that or pretty much a world war.”

To my surprise, the reply comes from Luna.

“With all due respect, you don’t get it, Cromach. Rebuilding the protections in full will take lifetimes of work of the top unicorns of our age. However, I agree with the necessity at this point. We don’t know who else might know enough about the system to abuse it.”

“The wizards should have the runes deactivated by the morning,” Celestia sighs, “However, I doubt that in itself will soothe the worries of the rulers, especially if they figure out that without the protections we’re all vulnerable to things potentially much worse than an undead mage, albeit a powerful one.”

Cromach smirks, and nudges me.

“Eeeeeh, I think the two of us together have enough street cred to help with that.”

“If I knew what that meant, I would agree,” I smirk, realizing to my own surprise that I mean it. When Cromach gets all positive, it’s infectious.

12-2: No mysteries left

View Online

One pushes away the slab of stone wall which opens into a high, crystal hallway.

“Oh yessss...” Astray stumbles in, rubbing himself all over in the now actually warm air. He blinks, looks around, and furrows his brows, “Hey, when you said Crystal Empire, I didn’t know you meant the castle itself. Does princess Cadance know?”

“She doesn’t know the exact location, but she knows we have access directly to the castle, yes,” replies One with a smug smirk.

“Aaaand she doesn’t mind,” Contradiction adds her two bits.

“We don’t bother anyone,” One shrugs, “When we need something sorted out quickly, we send infiltrators who just get here and disappear into the city as quickly as possible. In fact, most of us prefer taking the surface route when we have time to spare.”

Bubbles only grunts something as she’s lying limp on Connie’s back, no longer dripping blood everywhere. One might have wounded her, but in absence of any further damage, her wounds closed quite quickly. She’s visibly exhausted, though, barely keeping her eyelids from closing.

The castle security is lacking to say the least, and this time it’s not because of any sleeping spell. While One can’t be sure, she assumes it’s because the royal couple isn’t here, and thus there isn’t much to protect.

One stops by a window indistinguishable from any other on the ground floor of the castle, and taps the underside of the windowsil. The window clicks and opens.

“We’re not leaving through the main gate,” she says, faced with puzzled glances of the Silver Sun group, “I don’t want to sneak all the way to the main gate with you on my tail.”

They climb out quickly and without being spotted. Several minutes later, they’re walking through the late afternoon of the Crystal Empire, drawing surprised glances due to Bubbles as well as their general dishevelled look.

Near the Crystal Heart, One stops, and looks at the others.

“I did what I said, and here you are in one, non-frozen piece. We lost any track of the lich or Star Trail. I don’t know about you, but I can’t resist coming back to the hive and taking a look at how things are going. I’ll be back tomorrow, and then we can take a train to Canterlot. Do you have some bits for a tavern, or do I need to babysit you all the way?”

Astray pats a pouch on his belt next to the pistol holster.

“I think we can take it from here,” he gives One a tired smile, “Thanks.”

“Wait, if your hive is so close that you can make it there and back by tomorrow, then the length of the tunnel doesn’t make sense,” Connie tilts her head.

“I can get there and back in that time, you would still take about a day of forced march. A quick refill from the Crystal Heart is enough to let me do that without any problems. You rent a room in some of the taverns around the square, and I’ll find you later.”

“...bye...” Bubbles waves at her as she heads off back into the castle.

“I don’t know if I made it clear, but I hate her...” Connie frowns and rubs her aching horn, ”She’s really lucky that I don’t hate her enough.”

“Sir Cromach would be proud of you, Connie,” says Astray.

“I know...” the unicorn pouts, “It just irks me that now she thinks she won against me.”

“Take it like this,” Astay smirks, “If you ever get to the position where you need to fight her for real, you’ll have the advantage.”

“I hate you too when you’re right, smartass.”

Bubbles swats Connie’s ear with her foreleg, and mumbles:

“...you don’t...”

***

As One is galloping at full speed through the tunnel, only her insane reaction speed saves her as she spots something akin to a stringy arm ending in sharp claws pass through the wall one her left, and take a swipe at her.

Of course, One isn’t immune to physics, so dodging at such speed makes her nudge the tunnel wall and go bouncing and tumbling forward. In the same way, though, she’s fast enough to harden her chitin and get back on all fours without any harm as soon as her momentum reaches manageable levels.

She isn’t far from the entrance to the castle. In fact, she’s just been accelerating, something only possible inside the straight tunnel. Nothing should be here whatsoever, and yet… the motion is there again in the distance she spent bouncing around. She grows her leg blades, and approaches. There is no way she wouldn’t believe her eyes and tell herself it must have been her imagination, she’s not some silly pony.

When she sees the slithering, shadowy, snake-like creature with two clawed arms and a leech mouth crawl towards her, she bares her fangs, and charges. The singular shadow doesn’t stand a chance as One simply tramples it, making it disappear.

Where did it come from? It’s the same thing as in Cadance’s bedroom and in Canterlot.

One smirks. Maybe they haven’t lost the lich’s track completely then. Her enthusiasm withers somewhat when she taps against all the walls in that section of the tunnel, and finds nothing other than solid rock.

I’m going to need a drone or the boss for this, I don’t have the right kind of senses, and preferably Seven in case of any magic bullsh- nonsense.

She cracks her neck, primes her legs, and in a moment she’s gone, leaving behind only stomping of hooves so loud and quick it sounds more like a singular noise than even the fastest gallop.

Eventually, she spots a temporary guard post similar to the one during Brauheim civil war, with two dwarves aiming flamethrowers her way as she’s decellerating. As soon as the guards realize what the bullet previously speeding towards them is, they put the weapons down, and salute.

“Glad to see you again, your Majesty!” says one.

“You too,” One casually hops over the barricade, “What’s all this for?”

“Your Majesty, we’ve encountered several strange, shadow creatures in tunnels leading from this direction, so Six ordered to be on guard. They didn’t seem particularly dangerous, but it looked like they were resistant to certain weapons.”

“Fantastic...” mutters One while rolling her eyes, “Anything else I should know about?”

“This is the only unusual thing we’ve been briefed about, your Majesty,” the guard salutes.

“Thank holes for that,” One salutes back, and heads off to Brauheim. Soon after, she starts sensing hive links. They feel a little odd, but nothing that would make her worry. One always has to count on odd with this hive. That was one thing under Chrysalis - there either was complete order or anomalies to be eradicated.

Nothing obvious that requires my immediate attention. Good. I hate sorting through all memories of everyone at the same time. Makes me feel as if someone put my brain into a blender.

Shortly after, she finds the links she’s been looking for, at least one of them.

“Seven, I hear you’ve been having some problems in my absence.”

“ONE?” Seven blurts out, “Is the summit over already? I thought you had a week or so still left.”

“It’s a long story. Let’s sit down and have a chat.”

“Sure. Should I call Five and Six?”

“Yes. Speaking of the two lovebugs, why can’t I sense them?”

“Umm, well, they’re in the shielded cellar. They’ve been there since we came back from T- uhhhh, nevermind.”

“Came back from wh- Tartarus?!” he obviously can’t bullshit One who immediately pokes into his head, “Do I have to strip your carapace and feed it to you as a suppository?”

“Oh, no no no,” Seven immediately raises his voice in defense, “We sorted that Tartarus part out a while ago. I think you’ll even like what it led to, but… you know what? We really should sit down for that. I was hoping boss would be here too when I heard you, because, well, the council won’t be too happy when they find out.”

***

“I know it’s rich of me to comment on it, but damn you two reek!” One smirks as Five and Six leave the ‘fun cellar’ accompanied by Seven looking rather harrassed.

“Nice to see you again, One,” Six blinks through a mask of sticky juices all over his face… over most of him, in fact.

“I’m glad you’re back. Seven informed us about your return, but where is the boss?” Five’s mind immediately returns to meeting Ten’s soul, “Don’t tell me something happened to him too...”

“Too?” One raises an eyebrow, “Alright, guys, I need a proper report. I’m still brain damaged from all that diplomacy stuff I had to do after the boss disappeared.”

“Wait WHAT?!” Six’s jaw drops.

“You first,” says One.

“I think we should walk and talk, because you’re going to want to see this on your own,” Five nods and leads the way through the castle.

Seven looks at the disgusting gooey mess they’re leaving everywhere before sighing. This would be difficult to explain to the dwarves, even to those familiar with the boss’ and One’s ‘love life’. If only the drones weren’t so bad with washing machines. Those idiots consider those to be bubble baths crossed with an amusement park, and make bets to see who can last inside the longest.

When even Seven gets going, Five starts the report.

“I’ll give you the short version of our Tartarus trip, because it directly leads to… our current conundrum. After you left, Seven was super set on surprising the boss with the throne room being finished when you came back, but the bedrock we discovered there meant it would be impossible to clear even in months,” she nods sideways at Seven, “So he decided to summon some helpers, namely demons.”

“In theory it worked, if we’re to be completely accurat-” Seven shuts up, catching One’s curious turn of her head. Five grins, and continues.

“He summoned Comfort, thank holes, or the whole city would likely be swarming with something nasty by now, and she wasn’t too happy about being called for digging instead of dicking for once. She stole one of the dwarven diggers, those ridiculously complicated and expensive things, and she broke it by ramming it into the bedrock wall. Dwarves weren’t happy, and said we would have to work it off by doing the work of the digger in the deep core shafts, which meant all our drones had to stop doing any work in the hive if we were to fix this before you came back. Six had to diplomatically sort and manage this in addition to his normal life.”

“And then Seven had another magnificent idea...” Six mumbles, rolling his eyes.

“Hey!” Seven pouts, looking his way. To One’s surprise, Six looks away.

“You know what? I’m sorry. I know you meant well, and I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be working with what you have inside your head.”

“Keep going, Five,” says One.

“Well, Seven had the idea that when I was unable to provide the relief and relaxation Six needed as he was running himself ragged, we should summon a professional.”

“Holes fu- guide me backwards, not another demon...” One facehoofs.

“There is no better professional than a succubus!” Seven grumbles, looking directly into the hallway ahead.

“Seven messed up the ritual, and the succubus took Six to Tartarus. Thankfully, he managed to send me, himself, and Stompy there as well to get him back, only to a completely wrong part. I don’t need to describe everything for you, I hope, but we met Ten’s soul there who told us what was going on in Canterlot. That’s why we knew that bad stuff was going on with the summit.”

“Understood,” One nods.

“Hey, One...” Five takes a quick break, “Ten was there with some big changeling called Nine.”

To her surprise, a genuine smile creeps on One’s muzzle.

“Flower Pot.”

“Yes?” Five blinks.

“No, I mean we used to call Nine Flower Pot before I started joking and calling you that. He was like you in a way, not much for individualism, duty to the hive over all and so on. He was a low rank warrior, but he had the courage and dedication of top ten easy. Mare magnet too, the silent, strong, and hot type,” One shakes her head, “But he’s irrevocably in the past, and so I assume is Ten. We can reminisce when we’re all back here and safe.”

“Yes, One,” the corner of Five’s mouth curls up, “Well, there isn’t too much left. Ten and Nine helped us get deeper into Tartarus where we found agent WooD.”

“Should I know the name?”

“The griffon who was after your sword.”

“Oh, neat, so that drop into magma really did kill him. Eat that, catbird,” One punches the air in victory.

“Eeeerm… not exactly,” Five hesitates, “You see, he survived it, and he spent a long time observing Brauheim before he found us and kinda followed us through Seven’s magic circle.”

“How- what the fu- holes?!” One’s eye twitches, “He KNOWS about Brauheim? A holes-damned fanatic griffon? Please tell me you killed him before I have to explain this to the boss and worse, the fu- damn council.”

“I would like to continue my report instead, please,” Five looks away.

“Fiiiine...” hisses One, “After all this is over, I will send an infiltrator to the Griffon Empire and start scrubbing the minds of everyone who got into contact with that guy,” she catches Five’s now pleading look, “Okay, continue.”

“One, we wouldn’t have gotten Six back without him, and his price for help was… your sword,” Five stops with a meaningful pause.

“Yeah, so?” One looks at her.

“You’re… not mad about that?”

“Five, it’s a fuc- damn sword. I don’t use swords. Swords are slow and stupid weapons for a changeling. I had it on me because it looked official to the dwarves, and because I found it, so it was my sword. That’s all. And technically the boss’ sword as well.”

“Then I think the secret about Brauheim is safe. Agent WooD was a warrior, and the sword was his mission, not us, not the dwarves.”

One takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. Warrior’s word and pride are the key here, but how much can she trust it when politics taints it like everything it gets tangled with.

“Keep talking,” says One in the end, expression unreadable for any of the other changelings.

“That’s pretty much it,” Five lets out a sigh of relief at One’s reaction, although a creeping feeling that she might get eradicated later in private doesn’t leave her mind, “We met Comfort again, and all of us got Six back.”

“Well done, though I’m still not seeing the connection to the throne room situation and the council, if you’re saying this Wood isn’t the problem.”

“WooD,” Seven corrects her.

“Shut up and talk.”

“I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

“So will be the shapes I’m going to bend you into if you don’t start explaining, Seven.”

“Fine, fine...” Seven stops, “Hey, I shouldn’t be the one explaining this, it was all Five’s idea!”

“And yours was the screw-up with Tartarus which I reported, hmm?” Five shoots back immediately.

“Six, do I just kill them both and ask the new drones?” One pokes the visibly exhausted drone.

“There were moments since you left when I asked myself the same thing...” is his tired reply, “Seven, please?”

“Damn it, I was hoping he would pick you,” Seven glances at Five, “So, the second part starts with Five’s idea this time, and that’s the one behind all drones glowing and buzzing.”

“HellomissOnegladyou’rebackandImustgobyebzzzzzzzzzzz!” a drone carrying what looks like a cart fully loaded with manual mining equipment flashes past, leaving behind a green trail.

One raises an eyebrow. To her, there’s nothing actually wrong with the drone, other than it exhibiting that strange hive link buzzing she’s been sensing ever since she arrived. That, and it carrying about five times its weight while flying.

“I was wondering where that came from,” One ends up saying.

“You see, seeing the boss and you, and then Six sometimes not able to get proper rest with all that diplomacy stuff and meetings, Five came up with a way to gather love by helping overworked dwarves rest. Sort of a spa, you could day. We put the willing into cocoons, and they get a nice relaxing sleep, or one filled with wet dreams if they want, and then we drain the love or lust from the cocoon. Some stallions weren’t sure about it at first because it made their beards all smooth and shiny, but it was overall a great idea.”

“Okay, so you got a way to gain love, alright. How do we get from there to flying superdrones?”

“We didn’t expect the interest,” Seven waves his forelegs in the air, “Dwarves have been filling all the pods we have every day, twenty-four seven. We’ve managed to shove love crystals pretty much all over the new hive, but there are thousands on the waiting lists. They know we just do it for the love, but some bring gold. We had to build new storage rooms, and upper layer of the hive isn’t at all… hive-y anymore. It’s smooth and it’s like Brauheim...” Seven ends up grumbling, his changeling instincts protesting.

“So Five’s idea was too successful. I assume I can persuade the boss to fu- to get few more changelings,” One shrugs, “Is that the problem with the dwarf council?”

“No, that one’s much worse,” Six sighs, nodding to a heavy, wooden door reinforced with steel ahead, something normally unthinkable inside a hive, “We’re almost in the throne room. You know the rigidity of dwarf customs, you’ll understand.”

With that, he pushes the door which smoothly swings open without nearly any effort, and leads the three inside.

“This is really bad...” One scowls, “On so many levels.”

Five stone steps in a carved into a half-circle lead down to the throne room, which is a dome with walls made of bedrock, with two thrones in the back on a raised dais, one presumably for the boss and one for, well, One. Angular carvings of changelings decorate the smooth floor, forming a straight path leading from the steps down to the thrones. By each side of the path, six pillars bearing fake torches made of love crystals reach all the way to the ceiling.

Granted, while the changeling carvings look like they were made by the drones, and probably drones drunk on something, they are somewhat endearing. Hey, One can even make out Gem with her thick thighs and zebra stripes. When she notices her own, it hits her that she’s the only one scowling.

Unfortunately, even she can’t avoid the elephant in the room for long, or more likely the thirty inactive Silversmith mechs in perfect condition standing in ranks and lining the way to the thrones, six as big as Stompy and the rest about One’s height and build. The sides of the round room are filled with weaponry they last saw when Three found Stompy under the old Silversmith prison.

“Dwarves will go to war for this if they ever find out...” One breathes out.

“It gets worse,” Six nods with a bitter smile.

“HOW EXACTLY IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!” One’s eyes bulge.

Six walks about halfway to the thrones, clears his throat, and says:

“The queen is present.”

As one, all the mechs kneel. Six looks at One who is looking at all this, jaw dropped.

“Here is the problem, One,” says Six, “Stompy was the only major working mech the dwarves salvaged from under the old prison. This cache was untouched by the war with the Twisted. Everything is good as new.”

One takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and breathes out with glacial slowness. Her next words are both physical as well as hive mind orders to absolutely everyone.

“I want guards here, I want this place locked, and I want drones listening for any dwarf digger that might go this way on accident. I want a fucking puppy looking for lost little dwarves and barking if it helps. Until the boss comes, this is a total secret, and if anyone even breathes a suggestive word to any dwarf about this, it’s the order for the entire hive to immediately kill the dwarf as well as the changeling. Boss will talk this out with the council when he comes back, and he will figure out a deal with them that will be beneficial for both sides. There will be no war for technology and history, and we will live happily with tons of love from the city above. When the boss gets back, understood?”

The ‘yes’ response from the hive mind is immediate and unanimous.

“Now for the second order of business - the shadows,” One continues, pointing to the tunnel back to Brauheim, and walking with the others in tow.

“Seven has been doing some research with Granite,” Six nods to the taller changeling who clears his throat apprehensively.

“I would like to tell you I have something definitive, but I don’t. Even my… granted knowledge didn’t give me many clues, though it did pretty much scream those few at me, but it was enough to get by in the dwarf ancestor- Silversmith archives. Those guys could genuinely measure anything, including the destabilization of reality itself.”

“The simple version, Seven, my head is already going ow ow,” One rubs one of her temples.

“Alright. In short, the shadows come from a place called the void, although calling it a place is- nevermind,” he stops when he hears One sigh, “The old reports mention two major kinds of shadows - one vulnerable to physical interaction but completely immune to most kinds of energy, and one kind which is mostly immaterial but easily dispersed by energy.”

“So I got lucky we got attacked in Canterlot by the physical kind, as well as on the way here?”

“Nope!” Seven smiles widely, “That’s one thing I figured out during our encounters. If we changelings use love to enhance ourselves, we can easily kick ass of both kinds because we’re using both energy and physical damage at the same time.”

“How does me making my hooves firmer count as damage? I mean, without the strictly punching harder explanation.”

“You… wanted the simple version, didn’t you?” Seven raises an eyebrow.

“Try to dumb it down, but enough so that I can understand at least some of the context.”

“Hmmm, okay. Let’s just say that using energy doesn’t hurt them in the way we are used to. They don’t burn or get electrocuted. They are like holes, and energy is filling them. If you fill a hole, it disappears.”

“So they’re draining my love.”

“Exactly. Dwarves have to figure out what they are against by trial and error. We don’t, we just get physical.”

“I love problems that solve themselves,” One smirks, “Anything else you can tell me?”

“Nothing that wouldn’t just be a history lesson,” Seven shrugs, “Long time ago, it seems that the dwarves secretly cooperated with some big unicorn wizard Starswirl the Bearded as well as some minotaurs to craft weapons from a crystals called istrium the dwarves mine occasionally for power sources. The methods on how to forge the crystals into metal have been lost, so I didn’t dig into it further. The chassis of the mechs is made of that thing, which is also why the dwarves would definitely love one for chemistry experiments they don’t dare try with Stompy as their sole working one. Even while I was hopped on love and without sleep, there’s just too much fractured information in the old archives. It’s going to take centuries to go through.”

“How does that tie in to the problem of the shadows?”

“Oh right! Well, istrium isn’t natural. Rather it appears through the same rifts as the shadows, that’s what the unicorn mage figured out. He was studying how to open those rifts for some reason, probably connected to the weapon.”

“A weapon that opens rifts and summons shadows maybe?” One’s mind immediately focuses on the idea of someone having a weapon like that, namely the lich. On the other hole, in Canterlot he was using magic, not some… reality ruining sword or gun or anything. No, she just doesn’t know enough to make a clear judgement.

“A hypothesis that definitely comes to mind, but we really don’t have any proof. Though if you shared your memories of Canterlot, I might see something I recognize.”

“Yeeeeah, I wanted to avoid that, but if it’s not me absorbing all your memories into one huge headache I think I can handle that,” One stops, taps her hoof against the floor, and hums to herself, “You know what? Show me around the hive and this spa thing Five came up with. I might take some love crystals with me as a snack.”

“Sure thing,” Five gives her a quick bow, and leads the way.

***

The next day, One stops by the Crystal Heart to replenish the energy lost by the usual gallop from Brauheim, and immediately looks upwards at Bubbles who jumps down from one of the pillars supporting the Crystal Heart spire.

“Hey!” she greets One, “Ready to go home?”

“I am home, almost,” replies One.

“Oh, ehh, right,” Bubbles scratches her ear, “I meant-”

“I know what you meant,” One looks down at her companion withering under her cold demeanor, “Lead the way.”

“Miss Connie and Astray are still at the inn. You made it here much earlier than we though.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Stretching, climbing, running around. I don’t need as much rest to recover as ponies do, and the Crystal Heart feels warm and fuzzy.”

“Alright,” One shrugs. After their fight, she reclassified Bubbles as only a minor threat in her head, which lets her act more at ease around her.

“Ummm… does it help if I say I’m sorry?”

“What?” One looks down into the two huge eyeballs looking straight up at her accompanied by splayed ears. And with Bubbles, it’s a lot of ear floppery.

She looks like a small ball of pure sorry. Too bad for her I was trained for this by Three.

“For what I did with the minotaurs. I know you don’t like us, and I wasn’t diplomatic at all about this-”

“Forgiven,” says One.

“Really, just like that?” Bubbles doesn’t stop staring.

“Yes, but if you attack me again, I’ll get mad for real this time.”

Bubbles’ ears flop from side to side as she shakes her head with vigor.

“If we’re friends, we’re friends.”

“We’re allies,” One corrects her, “And you should be telling that to that crazy black and white unicorn, not to me.”

“What crazy black and white unicorn?” asks Contradiction, approaching from the back.

“You,” says One, fully aware Connie and Astray were on the way, “Or do you know a different one?”

“Come on, let’s not resume the ‘the bigger badass’ contest,” Astray raises his arm, “Miss One, we saw you and Bubbles, so we grabbed our things, and we’re ready to go check the train to Canterlot. We still have time for lunch on the way.”

“Good, there’s something I really need to discuss with my king- what?” One notices Contradiction glaring at her, and a moment later she feels a small tentacle wrap around her foreleg.

“You fought a void shadow since you left yesterday,” states Connie. It’s not a question, she knows it.

“Get that tentacle off of me before I do with it what some of Comfort’s summoners want her to perform,” One wiggles her leg, and the tentacle moves with it but with no resistance as if it wasn’t there. She doesn’t try anything like kicking, because as much as she would hate to admit it, she’s curious.

“It was exactly the same shadow as those we were swarmed with in Manehattan, and those in Canterlot before we jumped through that stupid portal. For some reason, Harmony’s touch is reacting to those. My best assumption is that it was locked in the void, so it knows how it feels. Thank stars it’s there again and hopefully forever this time,” Astray and Bubbles look as if they know what that meant, but One is left dry, “Alright, we need to check that out. Going back to Canterlot won’t solve anything if there’s a clue to follow.”

“If it were up to me, I would take you with me, but this is… politics,” One frowns.

Connie sighs.

“Look, we followed a lich who could summon these shadows at will through a portal that spat us out nearby. Now we know it wasn’t just a trap, but that the portal was collapsing and took us almost to the right place. I don’t care if there’s something you need to keep secret, but my job is to end the threat to the summit, that’s all. We all report to Cromach, and he handles all that politics stuff. None of us will say a word to anyone else but him if it means that much to you, but I need you to understand something that we haven’t made clear. We are all dead creatures walking. I lived the horror, and those two know at least a little,” Connie glances at Astray and Bubbles who look down at the crystal street, “We were cursed by knowing what’s out there, what the real threats to this world are. It gets really difficult to care about anything else these days. This guy is fucking with the void, the place where we shoved an insane god. Opening a rift there is a threat to EVERYTHING, because shadows are the tamest and least problematic shit that can crawl back out!”

I guess that if Five could trust the griffon fanatic, I might give accepting the help of this one a shot too. Holes… if we end up being chased out of Brauheim for breaking the secrecy agreement…

Oh screw it, this is my decision as One. If the dwarves give the boss trouble about this, I’m giving myself up for any punishment they deem fit as long as they let the others stay.

One grits her teeth, and raises her foreleg.

“You will not wander off under any circumstances. You will obey me to the letter no matter what. Unless you agree with those conditions, I’m taking you back to Canterlot. I will wipe any knowledge about our tunnel from your head, or I’ll take you back in a bodybag or die trying.”

“We want the lich,” Connie pauses and corrects herself, “No, we want the void to stay closed. I’m not dealing with those fucking eyeballs inside my brain for months again. Deal.”

“Yay, changeling hive!” Bubbles beams. Her ears flop down under Connie’s withering stare, “Alright, all serious now.”

Astray pats her head which makes her perk up instantly.

“We have a mission, and we can stick to it without sightseeing,” he says, nodding at One.

I can’t help feeling I’m making a huge ass mistake…

12-3: No mysteries left

View Online

“Good news, One! Granite agreed, but he’s steaming,” Seven’s voice makes One slowly breathe out in relief, “I had to overplay the threat a little, but we’re here in the council room working on the route you can take. I’ll be updating the hive mind map as we speak.”

“Good job, Seven. I want you to increase security all over Brauheim in case one of these Silver Sun nutjobs decides to go on a tourist trip anyway.”

“I got something even better for you, but please don’t start yelling. My head aches enough already.”

One’s eye twitches. Thankfully, none of the trio following her can notice.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt just this once.”

“Does it help if I tell you it’s Granite’s idea, not mine?”

“SEVEN!”

“Okay okay. Look, Granite spread the news through the Brauheim emergency broadcast system already, and if anyone sees one of the guys you described, they’re to act like changelings.”

“Dwarves acting like changelings… you mean like doing what?”

“Transformed changeling stuff. I think one of the ideas the council guys had was buzzing in normal conversation,” Seven nods, “As far as anyone is concerned, we’re all one happy HUUUUUGE changeling hive.”

One can’t help wanting to yell at Seven, but while the idea has no chance of surviving any serious scrutiny, it’s not… terrible, as such. Bad? Yes. Absolutely brain-damagingly stupid? Close, but not completely there.

“Wait, the whole council actually agreed to this? Without biting or mind control?”

“If it helps get the shadows out of Brauheim and the tunnels, they’re reluctantly in, but there will be more talking in the future. Oh yeah, and I really hope those Silver Sun guys are as crazy asskickers as you described them, because if they leave without solving this, we’re in deep trouble.”

One just sighs.

“Let’s just hope we can get by with getting them around the city and into the hive. Who knows? Maybe they won’t even get to see a dwarf past the tunnel barricades.”

“Getting all positive and hopeful? Who are you and what did you do to One?”

“I think I’m so far out of my comfort zone that I’m getting back there from the other side.”

“Look, we all believe in you, no matter what friction there might be between us.”

“Seven, don’t take this personally, but it’s not my own performance I’m worried about here, really. I would be one hundred percent fine without dwarves, with just boss and me hiding somewhere among ponies. But he has this stupid amount of probably inborn faults we call selfless morals, so I can’t just leave with him and have you fend for yourselves.”

“Gee, thanks...”

One only sighs again, and cuts her hive link off. Unfortunately, her peace and quiet don’t last long, as within half an hour Connie spots the lamps of the barricade ahead, and asks:

“Your changelings?”

“Yeah, we put up guard posts against the shadows. I met only one, but when I was here yesterday, the reports I got mentioned several more incursions. Speaking of which, do you have a way to track those?”

“Not track as such, but I can feel their marks,” says Connie, “If I have a look around, I should find something. To be honest, the strongest mark I felt was while we were still under the Crystal Empire. Ever since then, nothing much, really.“

“That had to be where I was attacked,” explains One.

And if I wasn’t stupid I would have had you check that place out instead of relying on Seven’s reports about shadow presence in Brauheim. Then I could have sent you home and sorted this out without breaking the most important dwarf rule. Cryo was right, we warrior changelings are dumb as fu- a brick.

As One looks at Connie, she immediately realizes that for once they’re both on the same wavelength.

“You don’t need to think that so loudly,” One adds.

“Didn’t need mind control and reading for that one, did you?” Connie nods with a raised eyebrow.

One looks away, and raises her pace to reach the distant barricade sooner.

As they approach, the two dwarves don’t even bother raising their flamethrowers. Rather, they salute, one nods to the trio behind One, and says:

“Bzzzzzz.”

Kill me now.

One rolls her eyes, which thankfully no one can see. Dwarves due to her height, and the Silver Sun trio due to their convenient position behind her.

“At ease,” she says in dwarvish, and leads the way past the checkpoint. To her companions she lies, “I could talk to them telepathically, but I assumed using basic changeling dialect around you would make things less awkward.”

“So, where do we start looking?” asks Astray.

“About twenty hours back into the tunnel…?” mutters Connie, much to the annoyed glance backwards from One.

“We’re going to meet with our hive’s top wizard who might be able to figure out a better way than to have Contraception here sniff every street corner for information,” One shoots back.

“Ooooh, I can do that!” Bubbles beams, jumping up and down.

“I believe you, but let’s have a chat with Seven first anyway.”

Since everyone is supposedly ready for them, One decides not to waste time by taking the tunnels around the city in the end, and strictly follows Seven’s drafted course through the border streets of Brauheim. Those are blissfully mostly empty, with the occasional dwarf face pressed against partially covered house window.

“Your hive seems to be very curious about us,” comments Astray after he waves at a young dwarf watching the group from inside a house, and the dwarf immediately draws the curtain.

“Yes, particularly those changelings who are transformed even while doing their daily business down here,” adds Connie, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Boss was hatched in Chrysalis’ hive, and tries to propagate individuality which she didn’t. That, unfortunately, still means spending a lot of time in a unique disguise. His eventual goal is to make sure no changeling ever needs to use shapeshifting in casual setting, but that’s still far away,” One’s brain works overtime to make up a plausible explanation. Thankfully, she’s had time to work out an overall story that wouldn’t be an outright lie.

Unfortunately, there are very few access paths to the hive itself, and the nearest one requires them to pass through one of the southern plazas. As they enter the humongous circular dome, Astray whistles, and Bubbles downright goes: “Woooooow!”

“Oh hey, an actual changeling,” Connie smirks as Five previously resting by an ornate well in the center of the plaza notices the group and approaches.

“That’s Five,” One tries to save the illusion of the situation, “Her thinking is that she doesn’t leave the hive, so she doesn’t need a disguise. She’s the very old fashioned kind of warrior.”

Five salutes when she gets close, having heard One’s comment.

“I see these are the guests, One,” she says, “Seven asked me to join you in case you needed an update on the shadow situation.”

“Really?” One asks internally.

“Of course not, I’m here to help in case these guys get too curious,” replies Five immediately, “If there was anything new to report about the shadows, I would have informed you already.”

“Good job, Five.”

“Did anything happen since yesterday?” asks Connie immediately, making chill run down One’s spine.

“Seven has drafted a map of all previous encounters to help you figure out where they might be coming from. It does seem to be one direction, and that is the Crystal Empire,” replies Five, “He’s got the physical copy ready and waiting in the hive.”

“I love you,” One breathes out in relief, “I’m pretty sure that mare doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.”

“Let’s have a drink first and see where it goes,” responds Five with a snicker.

Despite Five’s quick thinking, One has to ponder that it would be much easier to sustain the hive lie if there weren’t about twenty dwarves around the small plaza, all pretending to not be looking at the group and failing miserably.

The final blow comes when just as Five is about to lead the group into a tunnel spiraling down into the real hive, ten of the fresh drones rush out of it, all beaming at One. The one in front seems to be holding a circular tray with jiggly, multi-layered, green something decorated with love gems which could, with enough persuasion, be called cake… a cake brimming with love.

“We missed you yesterday and we really wanted to thank you for you making sure we could go outside without anyone being nasty to us and we made you this! It’s a love cake,” says Hundred and Eleven, or One One One, One-Eleven, or Triple-One as known to its friends, beaming.

Five facehoofs, much to the confused looks of the drones.

“Of all the times when this would be a lovely gesture, you had to pick the only possible one when it screws everything up...” she whispers to the hive mind.

“I… but we...” One One One stutters.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Five snarls at the drone who whimpers.

“Yeeeeah,” Connie smirks, pointing at the drones frozen in misunderstanding and fear, “Those are changelings,” then she points at the nearest dwarves who start buzzing, “Those are not.”

“Alright, fu- screw it, I tried. Guards, surround them,” One rolls her eyes, and gives up, “Boss will kill me, slap me into the body of a three-legged drone, and then have me dig out a new sewer system on my own with a spoon,” she faces Connie keeping her eyes on the quickly approaching dwarves with flamethrower nozzles aimed at them, “Don’t ask questions, don’t do anything stupid. No one is here to harm you, and keep in mind that your job is still to find where the shadows are coming from. You’re just going to have some… friendly company at all times.”

The group of drones lower their heads, the one in front puts the cake down, and they all start shuffling away. They freeze when One narrows her eyes, and looks at them.

“Thank you, but take it away. I’ll have a bite later,” she says in a measured and carefully controlled tone, “I appreciate the gesture.”

A little life returns to the body language of the drones as Triple-One quickly loads the cake on its back again, and they whole group disappears into the tunnel again.

Bubbles beams at the nearest dwarf guard who just points his weapon straight at her sharptoothed face.

“Awww, why does no one here like us?”

***

With Three snoring on my back, I enter a small office inside Canterlot castle which from Two’s scouting I know belongs to Cromach. Celestia is already sitting in one of the chairs, Anvil must have been talking to Cromach, because she’s standing at attention while the griffon is sitting behind a desk with his hind legs on the table.

“Vargaz is on,” Cromach waves at me, “And he persuaded the Chineighese delegation not to leave the summit immediately.”

“Rutherford is in, and I’m going to have a long talk with Cryo… eventually. Darkhorn took some persuading, height is the one enemy he can’t fight,” I smile, “but he isn’t leaving either. Chrysalis is back only under house arrest, and that’s only to placate that idiot from Stalliongrad, because we haven’t figured out what actually made the changes to the minds of her changelings. Obviously, she isn’t leaving either, and she’s aching to chair someone.”

“What’s with the chair thing?” asks Anvil.

“Funny story. I’ll tell you later,” Cromach smirks at her, “Anyway, this means the summit is still on, and if Luna does her job well, we might avoid another surprise attack until it’s over. Surprise attack from Star Trail and Arcane Hex, I mean. Can’t speak for other unmentionable horrors from beyond.”

“I owe both of you a thank you,” Celestia breathes out in relief.

“I suppose we can finally have a good night’s sleep then,” Cromach stands up and cracks his neck.

“Seconded,” I nod, “Three’s keeping me energized, but I really could do with some shuteye.”

“I envy you lovebugs...” Cromach yawns, “Oh yeah, and boss? I’m going to need you tomorrow.”

“Oh?” I tilt my head.

“I want to check the Canterlot mountain mines, namely the place where I fought Arcane Hex. I doubt we’ll find anything, but who knows?”

“If you think it’s worth looking, I don’t mind,” I shrug, “Though I might have to attend the summit meeting. Gem needs rest much more than I do.”

“So will doubtlessly all the other rulers,” says Celestia, “I’ll call the morning meeting off.”

“Neat,” says Cromach, and ushers us all out of the office, “Have a good night, everyone, as much as it’s possible under these circumstances.”

With a nod, we all split up, and I walk off to Gem’s room. Even before I turn the lights on, I say:

“Calm down, Bright Star, it’s just us.”

The paladin is sitting in the corner to my left, his horn glimmering.

“Is anything wrong?” he asks immediately.

“No, you can take the night off. I’ll be here with her and Three,” I whisper.

“I really don’t mind guarding more of you just in case,” Bright Star chuckles quietly, “I have no problem with bulk orders.”

“And I have really good ears even when I’m asleep,” Gem rises from the bed, blanket slipping off of her.

“Aww, sorry, honey,” I give her an apologetic smile.

Suddenly, I hear soft buzzing and my back starts vibrating. Turning my head, I see that the source of these strange things is Three whose eyes are wide and looking straight at Gem.

I sigh.

“Go for it.”

“What’s wrong with-” Gem’s question is cut short as the little changeling rocket shoots from my back, instantly latches onto her neck, and hugs her with all the might of his four legs.

“He missed you, and I get the feeling that he took seeing you all chewed up in that dungeon about as well as I did, but he’s worse at hiding it,” I smile.

“Have aaaaaaaalll the loooooveeeeeeee… hnnnnggggg!” he mumbles into Gem’s neck.

“Gee, Three, I’m okay, mostly,” she pats his back, and then-

*Poof!*

Bright Star’s jaw drops. So does mine.

Gem is now lime green. And sparkly. And bright and colorful.

Looking in horror at her reflection in the mirror after noticing us staring, Gem pries Three off of herself, and sticks her tongue out.

“Huh, a fate worse than death, was it?” she comments, “I can see that.”

“YOU’RE ALL SPARKLY! HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?” Three’s eyes go wide, “DID I DO THAT? THAT LOOKS SO NEAT!”

“Not for infiltrating, no,” Gem nuzzles him, “But I would love to see mom’s and Comfort’s reaction if they ended up like this,” with a long breath in, she transforms back into her zebra-like scheme.

“Awwww...” Three pouts, but immediately looks at me, “Hey, boss! Why didn’t I make you look like that?”

“Don’t ask me, I don’t even know what it was, only that my eyes still hurt even now that it’s gone,” I snicker when Three scrunches his nose at me, “What do you think, Bright Star?”

“If you somehow turn me into that carnival attraction, I’m joining Star Trail again,” he says flatly.

“You’re no fun,” mutters Three.

“How about you try that on yourself instead,” offers Bright Star, completely unfazed by my and Gem’s immediate murderous glares.

Three wraps his own legs around himself while hovering in the air, and looks into the big mirror. Nothing happens.

“Awwww...” he frowns in disappointment, “I wanted to be shiny.”

“You know what would be the best idea?” Bright Star’s eyes twinkle with pure, undiluted, evil glee, “If you tried that on Cryo.”

“OUT!” I yell at the laughing paladin deftly dodging two pillows instantly thrown by Gem, and darting outside.

The worst part is that, even as he’s gone, Three’s just hovering there, jaw dropped and eyes wide, pondering the idea.

“Chrysalis would never stop laughing at us...” I facehoof.

“Screw Chrysalis,” Gem shakes her head, “But we’d have to destroy every reflective surface that circus tent Cryo might walk by.”

“Soooooo big and shinyyyyy...” mumbles Three, completely lost in his imagination.

***

It’s the next morning, and as promised, Cromach, I, Three, and Two are walking the path spiraling up along the central shaft of the Canterlot mountain mines. We tried to fly, but it turned out to be impractical due to beams and electricity cables criss-crossing the shaft. Cromach had the most trouble navigating it, so we opted to go on hoof. It’s not as if we were in a hurry to find something with limited time availability.

“So, dad, you and that Cromach guy...” Two pokes my mind.

“Cromach and I what?” I ask, a little lost in thought. No matter what, these mine shafts will always bring memories of my first escape from Canterlot, of One and Comfort doing everything they could to get me and the survivors of Chrysalis’ invasion out.

“You feel a lot closer now that you’ve come back.”

“I think I understand his motivation and approach to things a lot better than before, that’s true. Besides, he knows a lot more about what’s going on. And on top of all that, his guys were the ones who fought the whole Vigil cult.”

“What? Really?!” I see Two twitch in the real world, “Well, I mean his guys were powerful, but they didn’t feel that powerful, considering how much trouble we had with just one Vigil.”

“It’s a long story. You can get it out of my head, or I’ll just tell you when we’re back home and have the time for story time next to a fireplace.”

“If you think it won’t help us now, then I’m fine with waiting.”

“Good. I’m not about to share with him anything regarding Brauheim, but otherwise I firmly believe we can trust him in full.”

“And his minotaur back in the castle?”

“Same.”

“Alright.”

“Huh, I don’t recall that,” Cromach stops as the expected collapsed part of the walkway blocks our progress, referring to a yellow tape with black stripes in front of it, “Although... putting up a crime scene tape instead of actually doing something for a year,” Cromach smirks at me, “Does that remind you of any current events?”

I sigh.

“You have no idea how much I just want to go home and never see this stupid city again. Nothing good ever happened to us while we were here.”

“Trust me, if I could go back to Manehattan and to selling the services of the best combat experts to spoiled rich foals, I would. Then all I want is to embezzle as much money as I can, settle down back in some backwater village of the Griffon Empire, and raise Blaze from the dead,” he gives me the most flat and cynical stare I’ve ever seen, “So I guess it’s tough titties for both of us.”

He freezes and quickly turns around.

Do I hear shuffling?

...driven by greed…

...murderers…

A chill runs down my spine. Two primes for a pounce, and bares her teeth. To my surprise, Three does the same, though, although as much as I feel the fight or flight instincts kick in for Two, it’s hug or hug harder what I feel from Three.

“I completely forgot about that damn thing...” mutters Cromach, green lightning coursing through his right foreleg.

And then even I finally remember.

...sacrificed foals…

...warm flesh must die...

...insatiable…

...only blood will-

“SHUFFLEEEEEEEEEEES!” Three whizzes forward as the blob of shifting shadows and darkness covering the whole walkway comes to view.

“THREE?!” Cromach tries to catch him, but misses as Three maneuvers around his talons with surprising agility, “Hey, boss beard, that thing is-” Cromach points ahead, and… slowly lowers his foreleg, “Okay, what law of reality is he breaking now?”

Two’s watching the situation with the same mixture of abject horror and internal facehoofing as Cromach. In front of them, and a grinning me, Three is partly buried in Shuffles’ shifting mass and hugging and nuzzling any place he can reach.

“Those two go way back,” I wink at them.

“I want that story,” says Cromach, narrowing his eyes at me. He turns his head, and his beak drops, “Okay, I’m refusing to believe that a shambling monstrosity of vengeful souls and necromantic curses has just grown tiny legs and is playing pat-a-hoofsie with Three.”

“And yet, that’s exactly what’s happening,” Two adds flatly.

“Do you want an actual explanation, or do you just want me to say that I stopeed trying to understand how Three works a long time ago, and I’m just enjoying the benefits?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Hey, without the boss, I wouldn’t be able to see how good everyone can be if you’re willing to look. That’s why boss is the best, and Shuffles is cuddly,” Three beams at us, not missing a beat at the hoof slapping game.

“That’s not an answer!” says Two

Cromach, on the other hole, actually thinks about it, and proves to me his intelligence once again.

“Blaze said the furious souls of the miners killed multiple foals who got lost over the years. Three’s good with foals, isn’t he?” he looks at me.

“He firmly believes that evil isn’t something you’re born with,” I answer, “No, he doesn’t just believe it, he lives by it. That’s a huge difference.”

Taking a breath to return back to the absurdity of reality, Cromach flicks Two’s ear. She frowns at him.

“I need your cute little nose.”

“If you want to keep your cute little talons, don’t do that again,” replies Two with little to no rancor, “What do you want?”

“I need you to fly around the collapsed part and sniff around for some… I don’t know… rotting flesh, or see if you can’t spot holes where someone could have gotten from under it. Anything that might not be attributed to the collapse itself. I don’t know, you’re the underground digging species. I simply want to know if Arcane Hex dug himself from under there or something.”

“I’ll give you access to some of our drone instincts. That should suffice,” I internally poke Two who nods and flies over the bent railing into the central shaft.

Only few minutes later, Two returns, shaking her head.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, “That mass of rocks is packed tighter than One’s holes in the soundproofed cellar.”

“Whuh?” Cromach is torn between two interesting topics - Three or a dirty story he hasn’t heard before.

“Sorry,” Two lands back by my side, “Forgot about our company for a moment, dad.”

“So, we got nothing,” I sigh.

Cromach shrugs.

“As I said, I wasn’t expecting to find anything, but we had to take a look for completion’s sake. Now, how do we get past that?” he nods towards Shuffles.

“Hmm?” Three stops playing, and just pats Shuffles’ mass, “Hey, buddy, we have to save everyone from meanies.”

...help?

“Thank you, but don’t worry about that,” Three chuckles, “It would be rough for you up there, but I’ll come see you before we go back home. And I promise I’ll visit Canterlot again and don’t forget you.”

...hugs?

Three hugs Shuffles again, the shadows shift, and in few moments there’s just the four of us living creatures standing in total, and for some amazed, silence.

12-4: No mysteries left

View Online

It’s the next night in Canterlot, the evening summit of the nervous rulers is over, and the city is mostly peaceful. In my wildest dreams, I wouldn’t expect that to mean that some of my changelings would get bored. No, seriously, I’m happily asleep, Gem is resting, and Three is curled up around her head.

Cryo, though, has been politely asked to move her sessions with Rutherford elsewhere, because the Royal Guards didn’t have time to clean their mess early morning. Though I did receive an anonymous letter that some long-term problematic recruits who had to do that few days in a row straightened up immediately. Eleven has started a little experiment of his own after the series of attacks, and after recharging through the day he waited for the night not to bother anyone to use his remaining bodies in order to keep up his connection between the body inside Bright Star’s estate and the others inside Canterlot castle. Right now, he’s got several bodies spread along the way, because he knows he straight up can’t keep the connection up between two as distant points as the estate and the castle. Two is helping, keeping an eye on the bodies along the way, namely the one hiding on the tower of the paladin headquarters. There are two more together further into Canterlot keeping an eye on each other. Two wanted to be close enough to the castle in case of trouble.

One wing of the door of Bright Star’s estate gets kicked inside, the cracking of wood and quick but loud clank of ripped off hinges resonating loudly through the building. A robed figure of roughly One’s size and build enters, and roars:

“BRIGHT STAR, YOU TRAITOR! GET OUT HERE AND FACE JUSTICE!”

Eleven wakes up instantly, and slides out from under Bright Star’s bed.

“Eeep!” a mare’s voice comes from above.

He finds himself looking up at a light blue pegasus mare with grey mane whose green eyes are locked on him.

Four legs belonging to Bright Star land next to his head.

“Love, stay here and hide,” hisses the paladin, “Eleven, come with me.”

Bright Star doesn’t have any armor in his bedroom, so he only levitates a pendant with the symbol of the sun, puts it around his neck, and then his paladin sword floats off of the bedside table. With the sword next to him, he opens the bedroom door and jumps into the hallway.

“I CAN HEAR YOU, RACE TRAITOR!” screams the furious voice again, “STOP CRAWLING AROUND LIKE A BUG-LOVING COCKROACH THAT YOU ARE!”

“...Star Trail...” whispers Bright Star, “...he can’t get straight into the castle anymore, so he’s here...”

“I’ll call the boss,” says Eleven.

“Do it. If he’s crazy enough to break into this place, there has to be something more than meets the eye. If there’s one thing we know, it’s that he’s been growing stronger with each attack.”

“Boss, Two, anyone!” Eleven’s faint voice wakes me up.

“Eleven?”

“Star Trail is attacking Bright Star’s estate-”

“I’m on the way,” Two interrupts us, “And I’m taking my Eleven with me. The others will stay where they are to provide communication.”

“I’m coming,” I say, “Gem is weak and exhausted right now, and Cryo is just too slow.”

For the love of holes, don’t let this be a distraction.

“Gem, wake up,” I softly shake her. She’s opens her eyes immediately, “Stay here, be careful.”

Not waiting for an answer, I rush out of the room, find the nearest balcony, and fly up into the night sky.

“Eleven, that one with Anvil,” I order, “Wake her up, and both of you go protect Gem.”

***

“Star Trail, what did you let Arcane Hex do to you?” Bright Star’s jaw drops when he sees his ex-colleague. The estate is fairly small, V-shaped consisting of only two stories with six rooms each, three on each side of a triangular lobby. And in the center of the lobby stands Star Trail and yet not Star Trail.

It’s a unicorn with facial features of the ex-paladin, but like last time, his horn is a crystal set in a metal contruction on his forehead. He’s much bigger and broader than even when Gem fought him recently, and a new, prehensile tail is swinging behind him with a sharp blade the length of half a classic sword fused into its tip. His mouth is also resembling a changeling one now, split from ear to ear and filled with sharp fangs. With morbid curiosity, Bright Star wonders how it’s possible that Star Trail can speak with that kind of muzzle.

“I’m not the monster here!” hisses Star Trail, “I’m not the one selling out my country and my princess!”

“You attacked Celestia,” Bright Star signals to Eleven to stay hidden behind the top floor railing, and starts descending the stairs.

“You let the bugs get to her! As we speak, Chrysalis’ filth spreads through this land.”

“I’m not a fan of hers either, which is why I don’t particularly associate with her.”

“There is no difference between the bugs,” Star Trail rips off his robe, and levitates his own sword, “They are all parasites.”

Seeing his new, chiseled and muscular body, Bright Star frowns. It’s pretty obvious that he’s going to lose in a contest of strength. He needs to be careful.

“Honestly,” Bright Star flourishes his sword which lights up with gold flames, “They are more silly than sinister, most of them. And you were reprimanded by Celestia herself. You are the one threatening this country with a war. What did you think would happen, you idiot, if you tried to assassinate the rulers?” it’s a bit of a long shot with zero proof, but it’s clear that Star Trail had to be involved somehow.

“They might have been angry with the princess at first,” Star Trail shakes his head, “but they would quickly understand that changelings were the problem all along,” he bares his fangs, “Changelings AND SYMPATHIZERS LIKE YOU!” he lunges at Bright Star.

With a loud pop, Bright Star teleports behind him and lets him crash into the stairs at full force. He has to block an instant slash of Star Trail’s tail with his own sword.

Star Trail recovers almost instantly, his own weapon swinging in a wide arc to force Bright Star to block. The blow isn’t dangerous as such, but to an unarmored unicorn who has to be careful every single time it’s a threat he can’t underestimate.

It’s quickly clear that Star Trail just needed cover to get closer to Bright Star who can’t teleport around. The first time it worked because he was ready, but mobility spells really aren’t his speciality. However…

The amulet around Bright Star’s neck flashes as the paladin shoulder charges the much bigger pony. In burst of flames, Star Trail recoils and stumbles backwards, both blinded by the bright light and surprised by spikes of pain surging through him. He didn’t think he could feel pain anymore, not in this body, but this feels as if his soul was being straight up ripped apart.

“I forgot, a protection magic specialist. I won’t make the same mistake twice,” Star Trail hisses, backing off. His horn flashes as well, and a blue shimmer washes over him, dousing the fire Bright Star’s defensive spell caused.

“Seriously, Star Trail,” Bright Star concentrates, “Do you still not get it? The country you swore to protect accepted changelings. The princess you pretend to serve brokered peace and leads Equestria to a future without predators hunting in the night. You are the only one who chose to stay behind in the darkness, and you serve someone who wants to KILL Celestia!”

Star Trail growls but hesitates.

“The changelings have to fall, but the lich has to fail as well. That’s the only way. Only then I will finally have peace.”

That makes Bright Star blink in surprise.

“What?”

“I didn’t choose this!” Star Trail breathes out, “I wanted a way to finally save Celestia from her own kindness which will ultimately be her downfall. I wasn’t planning on her being a target, but she’s the only one with enough-” his voice fails him with his mouth still open. He pauses, and shakes his head, “Nice try to buy yourself some time, but the execution for your crimes awaits.”

Star Trail pounces again. Bright Star dashes to the side while blocking Star Trail’s sword, his magical armor aura stops the swipe of Star Trail’s clawed foreleg, but the whipping tail following the swipe finally adds the force to make the paladin stumble backwards.

There is no recovery time. Star Trail doesn’t care about any risky movements or damage to his own muscles. Bright Star can barely regain his footing while instinctively blocking with his sword before the expected swing comes. Star Trail, though, simply continues the onslaught by grabbing Bright Star’s leg and throwing him away like a doll.

Bright Star screams as he lands on his freshly broken foreleg. The next attack isn’t instant, thankfully, as Star Trail’s flesh is being seared and burned by the progressing golden fire one more time. However, Star Trail can still douse the flames again much faster than Bright Star can patch up the broken bone. The paladin tries to shuffle backwards, but Star Trail simply punches him so hard the back of head cracks against the wall.

The faint, orange shimmer tightly surrounding Bright Star’s body fades. Immediately, Star Trail grabs Bright Star by his neck, raises him to his head height, and squeezes. In the next instant, something lands on his head. It’s not heavy or anything, it just latches onto his mane, and-

Tiny, needle teeth rip off Star Trail’s ear and a chunk of his mane instantly despite his hardened flesh. Unfortunately, that’s about the extent of the damage Eleven can cause before the handle of the flying sword swats him on the floor. The surprise attack does serve its purpose, and Star Trail let’s Bright Star drop on the floor.

“I will end you, bug,” growls Star Trail.

“I’m not a bug, I’m a feature!” Eleven jumps back on all fours just as he feels telekinetic grip around his hind legs swing him through the air and back against the floor.

A flash of golden light cushions the impact.

“No...” croaks Bright Star.

“No, Bright Star,” grinning Star Trail’s magical hold brings Eleven into his claws which easily wrap around the tiny changeling’s neck, “This is how it ends for you as well as for this monster.”

The crunch as Eleven’s spine and carapace break as one is almost inaudible. What follows is silence and darkness.

***

Two feels the wrongness in the same moment as the legs of Eleven on her back lose their grip on her back, and the limp body drops like a rock.

“Eleven?” she asks, and switches into the hive mind, “Eleven?!”

There is no answer. There’s only one link she can sense clearly this far from the castle.

“DAD! ELEVEN-”

“I know,” I say, just passing above her, “Gather all of them and go back to the castle.”

“But Star Trail-”

“GATHER ALL ELEVENS AND GET THEM BACK TO THE CASTLE!” I shout.

She’s so close to Bright Star’s home, she could help…

After brief thought, Two growls at the nearest wall, quickly scoops the limp body of Eleven, and flies off to the last know locations of the others.

“Be careful, dad...”

I barge through the broken entrance of the estate so hard the other wing of the door flies off just in time to see a hulking monstrosity of ‘improved’ Star Trail towering over Bright Star bleeding from open fracture of his foreleg as well as the back of his head, judging from the smear of blood on the wall behind him.

Star Trail turns his head, but by that time I’m already in front of him, kicking myself off of the wall straight into him to get him away from Bright Star. As we tumble back towards the door, I’m glad to know that I’m faster.

The blade of his tail slides harmlessly against my chitin as I pummel his face while rolling around. He might be stronger and faster than before, but it’s still nothing compared to the reaction time I can reach while burning love, and burn love I do.

It’s not a fair fight for him, really.

Not that I care.

Still, his hardened, cold flesh is resisting even my enhanced strength without taking too much damage, which leaves me with only one option. Straddling his chest, I raise my foreleg, and summon a burning love blade from my hoof.

The love comes out as a fiery, emerald bar stool this time.

Doesn’t matter, down it goes, its seat straight through Star Trail’s skull, and burning into the floor tiles underneath. I immediately block the following swipe of his claws from the side.

“...chest...” whispers Bright Star, too weak to be heard by anyone without the senses of a changeling.

Still sitting on him, I focus on the dwarven chainsaws, and the love chair… love seat? Anyway, the love bar stool coming from my hoof transforms into the silent menace of grinding teeth which I ram into Star Trail’s chest. His tail is whipping my back, he’s flailing his forelegs in an ineffective attempt to rip my throat open, and then…

...then everything stops at once. He doesn’t weaken slowly like a dying pony would, he straight up shuts down.

Bright Star groans, which makes me jump off of Star Trail, and rush to him.

“...don’t… let me… fall… asleep...” he stares blankly ahead, “...concussion… won’t wake up… again… Celestia… so warm...”

I can’t shake him, that would only make things worse. I can kill a monster, but how do I save a friend?

Hive knowledge, save me!

It comes, the unconscious levels of my mind sorting drawing on knowledge of others. Not direct memories and skills, I’m too far from everyone for that, but echoes, fragments saved inside me. Gem’s knowledge of chemistry and biology.

High doses of adrenaline form in my saliva, and I bite Bright Star’s neck.

In few moments, his eyes shoot open.

“Is there anyone here? Servants, wife?” I ask, “You can’t be living here alone.”

“...wife… my room… second floor...”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep! I’ll be right back,” I jump up to the second floor, an yell, “MISS BRIGHT STAR! YOUR HUSBAND NEEDS HELP!”

No answer.

Eleven’s last memories prove a key, I find the right room immediately, and raise the bed to find the terrified pegasus mare.

“Come with me, I need someone to keep Bright Star awake while I call the guards.”

She only whimpers.

Screw it, no time.

I bite her, making her obediently follow me downstairs. She shudders when she notices Star Trail’s mutilated corpse, but focuses on Bright Star smiling weakly while propped against the wall.

“Keep him awake no matter what,” I repeat and run outside.

***

Daylight slowly washes the terrible night away as I’m sitting on the roof of Canterlot castle, absent-mindedly stroking the broken body of Eleven.

I don’t know what to do, so I’ll stick to the facts. None of the other collapsed Elevens moved since Star Trail killed this one. There has been no reaction to any mental contact I or Gem tried to establish. Not even Chrysalis had any idea what to do. Is there a good part to this? Maybe. The other bodies aren’t dead, just in deep hibernation and unresponsive. That gives some potential for a good outcome, but also the possiblity of having to deal with ten more blank bodies. I couldn’t give anyone the broken body to dissolve for love, or even bury it like the ponies do. I’ve just been sitting here with it since coming back to the castle.

As far as Bright Star goes… he’s not much better off, but he’s alive. However, his body is exhausted from being this close to death twice in far too short time, so no amount of healing magic will get him back on his hooves quickly in case of further trouble.

With a sigh, I have to come to terms with the idea that I’ll have to attend another pointless summit session in few hours. I just want to go home, but I also know I need to stay here until the end to show good will, whatever little I have left at this point.

A buzz of wings nearby makes me twitch and cover Eleven’s body with my own.

“Heya, boss… I thought I would find you here. Just like in the old castle.”

Hearing Three’s voice so lifeless, without his usual high-pitched tone of pure joy, is worse than any punch or spell Star Trail could throw.

“Morning, Three,” I lean away from Eleven. Three looks at him…

...and just keeps looking in silence for some time.

“Why would someone do this, boss?” he asks.

“Star Trail hates us just this much, Three,” I answer.

To my surprise, he shakes his head.

“That’s not what I meant, boss. I meant - why? Why all this? Why can’t we get along? We haven’t done anything-”

I raise my hoof, which silences Three. All this time I’ve been trying to protect Three, keep up his optimism, but the thing is… that he’s much stronger than he looks.

“We killed several dozen paladins, Three. I understood it over the years from Bright Star, just how horrible what One did was. You see, most paladins are very old, two or three pony lifetimes usually. Knowing they will outlive everyone they know, it’s hard to make friends for life. It’s just inevitable pain, especially in their dangerous line of work. When some evil entities can’t attack them directly, they attack their families, friends, loved ones. Other paladins are often the only friends paladins have, and in the wake of a tragedy which scarred most Canterlot ponies for life, One wiped out over half of the paladin order in one move.”

“But they went after us,” says Three in a tone that doesn’t disagree with me or anything, just tries to understand a complex situation, “And they didn’t stop until they killed me, Nine, your egg that miss Comfort was pregnant with, which judging by what Gem achieved could have been an amazing changeling.”

“You know Cryo’s story, or what little she herself could remember and told Two. You know that Canterlot was the place where the great changeling war against the world really ended. One or two of the paladins we killed might even have been there. Star Trail isn’t that old, actually, but he’s lost friends over and over, family too, mostly to changelings. I know how I felt when I lost you, Three, when I lost Nine, and now it’s here again. It’s the feeling that this will never end, that the hate will never end. No place will be completely safe, and the enemy just needs to be lucky once to remind me of my own hate and make it worse. Now imagine living like that for decades or centuries in case of the really old paladins. That is why it’s so hard to break the cycle, Three. It might even be impossible. If this really is the end for Eleven… I might never forgive Celestia for taking too long on the magic protections, Star Trail, or even ponies in general. Hole, now I understand how Cromach feels. Eleven like this… it brought everything back. Even the pain I remember from memories that aren’t mine. We changelings have been through a lot, but we gave back equally as much.”

Three sighs, and curls up next to me, careful not to slip on the lightly sloping roof.

“There’s just so much pain on all sides...” he mumbles.

“Yeah, that’s what makes it difficult, and being able to see the point of both sides doesn’t make it easier.”

“Do you think Star Trail can understand that you know how he feels?”

“Maybe,” I shrug and shake my head, “but it wouldn’t change anything. Someone just can’t be saved if they don’t want to be, Three. Sorry.”

“Boss?”

“Yeah?”

“You mean that? That no matter what, no matter how hard we try, we can’t befriend someone? That some creatures just can’t do it? And I don’t mean predator and prey stuff, but genuinely smart creatures who don’t need to be enemies but are anyway.”

“There will always be disagreements-”

“No, that’s not what I mean. You can disagree about things if you don’t know for sure, right? But if I say that I’m a changeling, no one can disagree with that. If you don’t know something, the best way is to work together to figure it out who is right, or no? Am I being stupid here, boss?”

Technically, he’s a magical construct, but I’m not about to say that.

“No, Three,” I sigh, “The problem is that right now you’re being way smarter than most. I wish it worked like that even among friends, but just take Granite and the council, right? They are our best friends, and we still can’t do things the smart way because of their rituals, habits, beliefs despite me trying to persuade them on the common meetings even though I’m a practical changeling if nothing else. And… I can’t entirely blame them again.”

“How come?”

“If I was to be completely practical, I would end up like Chrysalis - killing weak changelings early, not waste love and resources on anyone without early promise. I wouldn’t be risking this summit. Gem wouldn’t be here, you know how she was when she was born. So, I can’t give up on taking emotions into consideration. And unfortunately, I’m afraid that fear is a much stronger emotion than hope. Even with you here with me, after everything we’ve gone through, I can barely think about anything good happening in the future when there’s the fear of losing you. It’s really difficult to keep some perspective.”

“Boss… if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that you’ll make the right thing. I would like to say that about miss One or miss Comfort, or even Gem, but I can’t. You are the one in charge because, well, you’re the right one to be in charge.”

“I don’t know, Three. Fear and hate are much easier to breed than to end.”

“Which brings us back to my original question - why?”

“I can only give you my opinion on that, but I think it’s because it’s easier to focus on fear, and fear breeds hatred. That’s because hope is uncertain in the end result, but fear… you are most afraid of things that are fatal, the complete end of everything you built.”

“Hehehe,” Three chuckles, much to my surprise, “I’m not afraid, boss.”

“You’re not?”

“Boss, I told you this before. I told you even before Star Trail killed me. Thanks to you, I’m living the best life a changeling can have. Without you I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t have met miss One and the others. Where you see scary things everywhere around, I see the best time of my life, and I challenge any changeling who ever lived under bad mom to argue about it with me. Of course it hurts to see Eleven like this, but same thing I just said about me goes for him. Under bad mom, a strange changeling like him wouldn’t be allowed to exist at all. And we don’t even know if it’s over for him or if there’s just something we still need to figure out. Trust me on this, boss - if Eleven knew he would end up like this, he would be with us all again, no hesitation. That’s just how much more hope and happiness you’re bringing to all of us. Death? Been there, done that. If you find a way to put Eleven together, I’ll have someone to talk to about it. Fear can go unhug itself!”

Three…

Fuck it, I don’t have anything to say to that.

Wrong. I do.

“You’re right. Eleven is just unresponsive. It doesn’t matter that no one could connect him yet. I’m being stupid and wasting time grieving when I could be incessantly poking others to do stuff.”

“That’s my boss!” Three beams. In the morning light reflected off of those white teeth, the events of last night seem almost like only a bad dream.

Standing up, I grab Eleven’s body that starts rolling away.

“I still don’t think we can heal this particular little guy. The body had been damaged for too long without hibernation.”

“Do we need to?” Three raises an eyebrow, “I mean, if I had a broken leg we wouldn’t know how to fix, I would have someone cut it off, come back to the Crystal Heart, and then grow a new one.”

I freeze. Could it really be that simple? But where would we find an empty changeling body?

***

“No,” Gem shakes her head vigorously.

“Crap, I thought Comfort taught you how to do it-” I frown.

“She did. I know exactly how to do it. I’m saying I won’t do it,” she catches the eyes of Three riding on my back, “And you stop staring at me like that.”

“Why?”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Gem raises her voice, “Do you understand what you’re asking me to do? You want me to kill a newborn changeling, a tiny, defenseless critter with untapped potential, which is basically what blanking out a body is. Do you understand how it relates to a certain changeling daughter you might know?”

I sigh. I suppose she’s right in a way.

“Would you be willing to teach that?” I give it another shot.

“Why don’t you ask Chrysalis?” she scowls at me, “I doubt she’d think twice before doing something like that. She’s used to crafting changeling for her needs.”

“ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME LOOK LIKE SOME IMMORAL ASS LIKE SHE IS? DO YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA?!” I scream in her face, “BECAUSE ALL I’M HEARING IS A LOT OF COMPLAINING. I’M LOOKING FOR A SOLUTION, AND THE ONLY THING I’M GETTING FROM YOU BASICALLY TRANSLATES TO ‘FUCK ELEVEN’.”

Gem stares at me, mouth open.

“Boss?” Three pats my head, which helps me gather myself.

“Sorry...” I breathe out, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you wanted Eleven dead.”

“But you did...” she whispers, and looks away, “Of all changelings… I though you would understand the most.”

“And that’s the problem!” I raise my voice a bit again, which makes Gem shiver and take a step back, “Can’t you see it? Three here says that if there’s anyone who can fix everything for changelings, give them better future than Chrysalis then it’s me. If there is someone able to save Eleven then it’s me. Now you want me to do all that without sacrificing anyone AND without even compromising your morals. I’m not a fucking GOD, Gem! I can’t just stomp a hoof and make the whole world work the way I want.”

Gritting my teeth, I turn around.

“Where are we going?” asks Three quietly.

“You’re staying here. I’m off to grovel in front of Chrysalis,” I reach for the door handle, “I figured out that there’s one thing I don’t need to solve this problem to the satisfaction of everyone else, and that’s my own dignity.”

When I open the door, I find myself facing a wall of chitin behind it. The wall looks down at me.

“Cryo?” I ask. Somehow, she looks even bigger than I remember. Must be all that love from Rutherford.

“My ears hurt,” she says. All three of us look at her leaning down through the door frame with incredulous expressions.

Like really… we don’t know what to say. At least until Two slinks into the room between Cryo’s legs.

“What she’s trying to say is that we heard you through the wall,” she says.

“I’m sorry,” I look down at the floor, “It was my fault.”

“Ahem,” Two clears her throat louder, “Let me rephrase that, dad. What I meant to say was - BOW BEFORE YOUR GODDESS! MUHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!”

We stare.

“Wrong timing?” asks Two, “Wrong timing, okay. No more jokes for now,” Two pokes my chest, “You aren’t going anywhere near head bug slut,” next she points at Gem, “And you are going to help me fix Eleven.”

“Two, I’m not-” protests Gem.

“That wasn’t a question, Gem, that was a statement,” Two grins, “because if you’re looking for blank changeligs… we got those,” she points at Cryo’s belly. The queen sitting in front of the door cranes her neck to looks at herself.

Closing my eyes, I breathe in and out before saying:

“Both of you, come inside before I- nevermind, just come inside.”

“Excellent,” comments Two, “Speaking of which, what did you do with Eleven?”

I point at the pile of changeling bodies in the corner.

“I meant the dead one,” she says.

“I melted him in the end.”

“Good, I’d hate to leave anything of ours here. Now,” she pats Cryo’s side, “Exhibit A here is a warrior queen filled with eggs that can hatch with some love.”

“How?” I ask.

“Rutherford...” Gem breathes out in realization.

“Bingo!” Two winks at her, “And while our queen is of perfectly sound body, which will likely be true even for her spawn, I wasn’t able to identify even the most basic semblance of mental activity unlike when mom was about to pump out the new drones back home.”

“Like me!” Cryo beams, “No beard at all.”

“That’s… kind of sad, actually,” mutters Gem.

“Don’t look a gift bughorse in the mouth,” I say immediately.

“Agreed,” adds Two, “But as I said, I’m going to need help. I have no clue how to guide a mind into a new body, and with someone like Eleven this could get pretty nuts, especially when said mind isn’t exactly responsive either. Plus, we need to induce birth right now, which will require love.”

I poke Three who hops off of my back.

“Here’s a battery you can use.”

“I can even glow and do that electric buzzing noise!” he, of course, immediately proves that, “Bzzzzzzzz.”

“Dad?” Gem, ears drooped, speaks up, “Mind leaving us alone? The less minds I need to replicate the knowledge to, the less chance of a mistake while we try to figure out what we can do here. I wish we could summon Comfort somehow, but we can’t.”

“Sure. Look, Gem, Two. No matter what happens, I know you’ll do your best,” I leave the room, and close off all my hive links.

***

“I would like to welcome you to the final day of this year’s summit,” Celestia starts the meeting off in a way that makes me raise an eyebrow, “Ah, it looks like some of you haven’t heard the news. Last evening, I received several requests to cut the summit short for varying reasons. I will be honest with you, some were regarding security, definitely,” she looks at Ivanov, “but not all. I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to share, so let’s leave it at that. I intended to inform queen Chrysalis and king Beard today, because this year’s business of the northern hive was to be seen and to introduce themselves as king Beard said, and I believe they’ve proven to be valuable friends or at least allies despite eariler… hiccups. In light of their expertise and testimony, I will no longer be holding queen Chrysalis even in house arrest. Of course, the summit ending doesn’t mean that I’m asking any of you to leave before the official date. I will be more than happy to see you at the finishing ball. I will be arranging a small soiree for this evening before those who have to leave do so.”

“We thank you for your hospitality,” says Vargaz, and gives her a short applause which I join, if only to be polite because my mind is elsewhere, namely one floor above. I could connect to Two or Three to see how they’re doing, but I promised not to bother them, and I’m keeping that promise unless it’s absolutely necessary.

And so, it’s time for more diplomatic nonsense. Thankfully, no one really wants anything from me, so I just listen and ponder the situation. Namely, what could be happening with One. The only thing I was told by Luna was that the portal led far away from Canterlot. Where? That was impossible to figure out. On the other hole, she was with Cromach’s team, and he had confidence in them. So, unless they killed each other, they are probably fine, just too far to get back here within the few days like we did. Top secret ultra-fast airship and then a direct portal across third of the world definitely did help.

During a break in the proceedings, after a quick walk to stretch my joints, I seek out Cromach who is currently sitting in the corner of the room, casually eating some smoked salmon.

“Hey,” I nod at him.

“Hello,” he ravenously finishes off the piece he’s been holding, and winks at me, “Happy for all this to be over?”

“It’s far from over, Cromach,” I sigh, “One is gone. What’s going on with Eleven is a total mystery, Star Trail will be back, and Arcane Hex is still out there as well. We survived another day, that’s all.”

He shrugs.

“In my line of work, that’s a valid reason to celebrate.”

“Aren’t you worried about your guys?”

“Will me freaking out and torturing myself by imagining every single horrible thing that could have happened to them help anything?”

I sigh.

“You’re right, of course.”

“Speaking of which, are you leaving?”

Shaking my head, I momentarily ponder the edibility of the meat. I mean, Cryo sure seems to like it a lot.

“I’ll wait here until the end just in case One comes back. That said, I think I’ll either have us sit inside the castle all the time, or organize some group outings.”

“You know, I haven’t asked, but what happened last night? All I know is that those Eleven guys Anvil and I had with us suddenly collapsed, and then your angry little redhead grabbed them both.”

I tell him everything about the last night’s attack, including Eleven’s current state.

“-Gem and Two are upstairs attempting something no one has ever done before,” I finish, “Who knows how long it might take, and I can’t leave before then anyway. Speaking of which, do you know why any of the other rulers are leaving, or was Celestia just being polite when she said it wasn’t all because of the attacks?”

“Oh, she wasn’t,” Cromach shakes his head, “Believe it or not, majority of diplomats and rulers are used to some kind of assassination attempts. I had a chat with Vargaz and Zarach yesterday, and they both have trouble brewing at home. Thankfully, nothing that looks like it could become my job. Ivanov is a not-so-secret unicorn supremacist, so he sees any second he has to spend in a room with a ‘lesser species’ as tarnish on himself. I don’t know much about Ember and the dragons, but they are so used to being the top predators that someone who can actually get to them can’t be a pleasant thing to think about. Sheng Po-Ne and the rest of the chineighese guys don’t talk to anyone outside of business hours, but as far as I know, the far east is rife with nobility uprisings, assassinations, warlord coups, and political marriages. It’s quite possible that their whole country changed leadership five times while they were here and now they’re all on the beheading short list as the servants of the last dynasty,” he shrugs, “As far as Darkhorn goes, you should be telling me what’s going on rather than the other way around. So no, Sunbutt wasn’t just blowing smoke.”

I sit on the chair next to him, and finally try the meat after adjusting my internal plumbing a little. Not bad, actually. I can see where Cryo is coming from.

“You know… how would you deal with an enemy who keeps reappearing after you destroy him over and over?”

“Your Star Trail guy. Well, I think we secured the castle enough, and Bright Star is in the infirmary under observation and heavy guard. That’s a good step one.”

“How do you stay informed about everything?”

“Three came to me at night after you disappeared with Eleven’s body, asking if I knew where you went. I obviously asked him some stuff, and he just kept talking and talking. I’ve never seen a creature so...” he searches for words, and in the end just shrugs, “so like him. And I used to have a puppy when I was small.”

I chuckle.

“Speaking of which, you didn’t say if you were leaving. I assume you’re not.”

“You assume correctly. From what Three described to me Star Trail looked like, it’s clear his bodies are being grown somewhere and his soul is being moved between them. While I don’t particularly care about him, I’m worried about Arcane Hex and void rifts,” he smirks as if realizing something amusing only to him, “Funny, I actually prefer him being competent in that regard. As Magnus said, the stuff that can crawl out of the void if someone incompetent gets involved is much worse than any powerful lich in the world.”

“You know, we got them both several times already. Does it mean Star Trail has to be somewhere close if his soul can come back to a new body after being killed over and over?”

“I don’t think so,” Cromach shakes his head, “Souls are weird. Sometimes it seems like they obey only their rules no one else knows. I wish Void was here.”

“But you just said-”

“Void with a capital V, the alicorn of Death, not the place. He knew the flow of souls the best, and his natural influence significantly limited the power necromancers can have. Since his disappearance, necromancers have been cropping up all over the place, more powerful than ever. Literally, actually, because Void was one of the primals.”

“How do we get rid of them then? What can we really do?”

“To kill a lich, you need to destroy their phylactery. It’s an object that binds their soul, thus there can only be one at a time, and it allows them to recreate their body if it’s destroyed. Once the phylactery is gone, then the lich will be vulnerable. Destroy the body then, and the problem is solved. As far as Star Trail goes, I think Arcane Hex is skilled enough to just keep bringing him back, and seems to have the resources and an equipped lab to keep making fresh bodies for him.”

“So killing just Star Trail and then leaving you to deal with the rest isn’t a thing...”

“Yeeeeeah… no.”

“I hate everything. Why are there no simple solutions?”

“Welcome to my world.”

The door of the ballroom slams open, a bunch of Royal Guards accompanying four Crystal Guards rush in with two stretchers. Cromach’s eyes go wide and he jumps from his chair, immediately running to the group.

“Astray, Bubbles?!” he calls out. The satyr looks withered, huge chunks of his naked body charred and rotting black, the hair on his legs missing in clumps. The visibly exhausted demonette is on the next stretcher, holding his hand with her claws, unwilling to let go.

My jaw drops, and I realize I must have missed this because of my closed links, but there’s a solitary changeling with them whose eyes well up with tears of relief when spots me.

“Six?!”

“BOSS!”

13-1: Shadow over the north

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“Interesting,” comments Contradiction as One leads the group through the side-alleys of Brauheim, but still takes the shortest way to the castle that would avoid exposing more dwarves to the visitors, “A city of tiny earthponies living entirely underground at about the technology level of the Griffon Empire. Can’t say I understand the need for secrecy,” she glances at the silent dwarves surrounding the group with some variant of a flamethrower, “Nor the hostility.”

Because you haven’t seen anything yet, and if I have a say in it you won’t.

Out loud, One just says:

“Underground is these guys’ way of life, and they pride themselves on being able to survive and thrive like this. If there’s a hundred ‘earthponies’ at all who understand common ponish, i’ll be surprised anyway. They avoid any contact with the outside world unless there’s something they desperately need. Most of the material things my king was bargaining for on the summit were for them, not us.”

“So it’s just about traditions,” Connie shrugs.

“Oh? No complaining about it being nonsense?” One is genuinely surprised.

“I am fully aware how pointless it is to waste time and breath on ponies stuck in objectively irrelevant traditions even if they might be harming them in the long run.”

Good, the more wrong she is, the better. If she thinks the dwarves are just a bunch of nutjob earthponies with nothing to offer, the less she’s going to report later.

“These guys are big on traditions, that’s definitely true,” nods One.

“What surprises me more is how accepting they are of you.”

“It’s a long story. Suffice to say, Two won the rulership of the city for my king in a drinking contest.”

That makes Connie freeze, Astray’s jaw drop, and Bubbles to begin giggling uncontrollably. One rolls her eyes, and adds:

“Yeah, you heard that right, and if you don’t ask me to go into detail I’ll be eternally grateful.”

“Awwww...” Bubbles manages to mutter before giggling again.

“So… let me get this straight,” Astray’s the first one to find words, “King Beard rules both your hive and these guys?”

“Not exactly. Technically, he is their king too, but he’s not an absolute ruler anymore. He has enough trouble with the hive as is. He’s presiding the dw- the ruling council,” One stops herself from saying dwarves just in case someone somewhere at some point got in contact with them and the name remains in some legend.

Unfortunately, there is no way to avoid the riskiest part of the trip, and One has to lead the group through the castle plaza.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so beautiful!” Bubbles’ eyes go wide and sparkle with the reflections of many lights scattered around the square filled with dwarves as well as the marvels of dwarf architecture. What One has never appreciated before is that unlike Canterlot, Vanhoover, or even Las Pegasus where the shops and anything that used technology put it on display to show the advancement to visiting ponies, for dwarves technology is so much part of their lives that it’s mostly hidden from plain view. That makes the system of pumps, vents, and anything related to the power grid significantly less prominent. As long as they don’t visit any kitchen or utility room, or holes forbid the mines, the Silver Sun guys might even be kept entirely in the dark regarding the full extent of dwarven technology.

“Digging this out must have taken ages,” says Connie, unable to hide the awe in her voice.

“No idea,” One shrugs, “Everything was here already when we arrived few years ago.”

“You know… is there a war going on or something? This can’t all be because of the shadows,” Astray points at two dwarves haggling over flame spider pet food, both in full plate armor.

“Oh no, platemails are their… you could call it native garb. These guys are excellent blacksmiths and tough as nails. Their platemails are about as comfortable as pony clothes while retaining the protection of a set of armor. I think some of Darkhorn’s bodyguards use chainmails forged here, but the trade between Rift and this place is limited for reasons mentioned before.”

“What’s the city called?” asks Astray.

“I think translated to ponish it means ‘the home of beer’. In their language it sounds as if you tried to cough up a hairball made of barbed wire. Speaking of which, there are like five ponies out of the whole city who might even remotely understand you.”

“And all your changelings understand them?” asks Connie.

“Yes, we all do,” nods One, “Knowledge shared through the hive mind is the best way to spread the understanding of a language.”

“That sounds super useful,” squeaks Bubbles, “Imagine if we were changelings and mister Cross couls just copy all his combat skills into us. No baddies would stand a chance!” she punches the air vigorously, making several of the dwarves watching them more obviously twitch.

“Hive mind isn’t that effective at copying things that rely so heavily on muscle habits and practice like combat skills, but it’s perfect for sharing stuff based on memory. If we could copy combat skills perfectly, Chrysalis would have had an unstoppable army and the whole world serving her already.”

“And what about your king?” Connie takes a cheap shot.

“Nah,” One waves her foreleg dismissively, not taking the bait, “He hates the paperwork.”

Let’s hope they don’t look under the drawbridge. That’s where the hydraulics can be seen the best.

However, to her surprise, the greatest threat to the secrecy of Brauheim technology doesn’t come from her changelings or herself screwing something up, but from Granite striding towards them across the bridge with two dwarf guards in power armors.

It could have been worse, he could have brought Stompy, and then we’d really have to kill the Silver Sun guys and make it look like an accident.

“Your Majesty, forgive me for asking, but what in Muradin’s eternally burning forge is this supposed to be?” Granite walks up to One, looking straight into her eyes. Connie can’t understand a word, but it’s apparent that the pony isn’t afraid of One whatsoever. Judging by her own experiences with One, the small pony must be insane.

“Granite,” One summons all her newfound diplomacy, “They’re here to help with the shadows. I will explain everything when we sit down to a table. Things aren’t as simple as they seem. Oh, and you would do really well to hide any serious tech along the way. I was really hoping to avoid those two canned dwarves.”

“Queen, I repeat what I told Six, and that’s that this is a breach of both our most sacred traditions and our treaty with the boss-”

One raises her hoof.

“I know, but you’ll have to wait for the boss to come back from the Canterlot summit. If he comes back...” she sighs.

“What do you mean?” to One’s relief, Granite’s shock completely wins over his anger. That means the boss might be important enough to smooth all this out afterwards.

Note to self - wait few decades before even mentioning the new mechs and weapons. Or maybe boss will use some of them to buy us leniency.

“Let’s find a room around which you can station some serious firepower, and don’t take the fire literally, because the small, grinning one is immune to it I’m sure.”

Granite takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and nods.

“Let’s see where the iron seam takes us, your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Granite. I mean it,” One gestures to Connie as Granite turns around and leads them back into the castle. Then she switches back to speaking in ponish, “Crisis averted for now, but if you do something stupid, it’s not just you in trouble but my whole hive. Don’t make me regret not leaving you to freeze.”

Connie opens her mouth, but Astray clears his throat, and gives One a quick but courteous bow.

“We will stick to our mission. We have no reason to go wandering around.”

That promise doesn’t last long, specifically only until the group reach the second floor of the castle, when Bubbles’ eyes suddenly go wide, and she bolts forward with speed that surprises Five and even One.

The demonette bounds past Granite and the dwarves who immediately raise their weapons. Within a second, she lands on a figure who’s just walked out of a meeting room into which Granite was leading them.

Six yelps in surprise as he finds himself tackled and rolled over the floor tangled in a ball with Bubbles. His surprise turns to giggling which grows louder and louder in the time it takes One and Five to approach and stop, heads tilted. To the surprise of any casual observer, it’s One who looks confused, but it’s Five who is baring her fangs, but not daring to do anything without a direct order.

Bubbles is licking Six everywhere. Any place she can reach she kisses and licks, not stopping for anything. Hooves, leg holes, ears, nothing is safe.

“One, I’m not going to kill her, I’m just going to twist her legs into a knot behind her back,” comments Five internally, “For her own safety.”

However, it’s neither Five nor One who acts first. Bubbles yelps as she’s yanked away by her big ear by white glimmer, and levitated over to Contradiction looking at her with narrowed eyes.

“What. The. Fuck,” is all Connie says.

Bubbles blinks, her dilated pupils return to a size normal for an abnormal pony, and she tries to shake her head. In her hanging position, all she manages is to wobble around. Her free ear flops down, and she gives everyone the most apologetic smile she can with that mouth of pure needle-y evil.

“Ummm, well...” she points at Six currently being protectively held against Five’s barrel with one foreleg, “That changeling is delicious!”

“He’s mine!” growls Five.

Bubbles crosses her forelegs on her chest. A pony in her position would be screaming in pain, but for her this is barely an inconvenience.

“I know, I’m sorry!” she looks down at the red carpet lining the floors of the whole castle, “But he just smelled do good! Like he’s full of fresh love and around someone who just wants to be with him so much- ohhhhhh. That’s you, isn’t it?” Bubbles offers a foreleg for Five to shake.

“You’re not a changeling. How can you tell?” asks Six, unsuccessful in his attempt to wiggle out of Five’s one-legged hug.

“I’m part demon,” replies Bubbles in a carefree tone.

“Which kind of demon?” he asks with his freshly acquired expertise on the matter.

“All of them!” Bubbles beams from ear to ear, “I mean, there was a reeeeaalllyy big orgy, and my mom was a pretty good demonologist. Umm, until she got eaten, that was.”

“Can we get back to business?” One raises her voice, pointing into the meeting room.

Granite walks inside first, followed by Six, Astray, Connie dragging Bubbles along, and then everyone else. The guards stay outside, though.

“A-hem,” Granite clears his throat when everyone sits down, “I suppose I should welcome you, visitors, if you are here to help us with our shadow problem,” he says in ponish.

“You are very well informed, sir, considering you’ve just met us,” says Astray.

“Changeling hive links,” explains One, “I informed Six here about the situation, and he in turn briefed Granite here. And trust me when I say that he’s being significantly more civil than I would be if he was the one breaking such vital agreement as I am right now.”

“We will discuss that matter in private in due time, your Majesty,” Granite looks at the others. Due to some of the chairs being adapted to the size of bigger changelings, even Astay and Connie can sit at the table in reasonable comfort, “Now, how can you help us?”

A pop resonates through the room, heralding the appearance of Seven levitating a bunch of printed out maps to avoid showing anyone the holographic map devices as per instructions.

“I’m Seven. Sorry, did I miss anything?” he looks at Connie, and immediately clutches his head. In a similar way, a see-through tentacle grows from the floor, poking him.

“You’ve had contact with Harmony too,” says Contradiction with absolute certainty.

“Y-Yes, and I would appreciate someone explaining why my head is about to explode.”

“Cromach told me that divinity is an eternal force or material, or whatever, and that it carries with it the memories and personality imprint of the originator or the longest owner.”

“Mine gives me insight into theory of any magic even if I haven’t seen anything like that before,” Seven’s pained tone turns to boundless curiosity instantly.

“Harmony is the god of magic, and the creator of the original alicorn of Magic. That’s his affinity,“ Connie sighs, ”Ah, I wish I had that instead of the neighponese schoolfilly molesting devices. With all the dark magic nonsense we get into, we’re struggling to find a proper unicorn mage to add to the team. I can’t use any magic due to a certain birth defect that gives me strong telekinesis, something which Harmony’s touch turned up to eleven. Well, three thousand and twenty, more like. Anyway, us being touched by a god makes us ‘recognize’ one another in a way. I have similar thing with Cromach.”

“Remember that problem with the Twisted two years ago?” asks One, making Granite wince, “These guys supposedly fought a whole bunch of those Vigil guys, like the one who led the Twisted here.”

“I did,” Connie corrects her, “These two weren’t part of the Silver Sun at the time. We killed their grandmaster, and stopped the god they tried to summon from coming. Harmony, by the way.”

“Anyway,” Five clears her throat, “We already know that our visitors have proper credentials to help us. Let’s get to the part where we talk about what actually is going on.”

Everyone looks at Connie.

“Alright, I’m going to assume One here already shared what’s going on in Canterlot,” she continues after a quick series of nods, “In Manehattan, we were attacked by those shadows as well short time before receiving the invitation to the summit. Considering the circumstances, I can’t be sure those attacks were connected, but so far it seems that the targets were those possessing divinity of sorts, which means Cromach and me. Technically, Seven here as well.”

“Does it mean that I’m drawing the shadows here or something?” he asks, rubbing his temples. The headache seems to be going away on its own quickly.

“I can’t be sure, but I doubt that,” Connie shakes her head, “As far as we know, the small shadows aren’t intelligent. They’re being used by a lich to create distractions. Why they are here, beats me, but we followed a portal here which kicked us out on the surface. My working theory is that the lich has a lab between the Crystal Empire and here. However, it will be well hidden. A complex spell would fool me, but if we have someone with the degree of magic knowledge only a Harmony’s touch can bestow, I think we can find it.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Six speaks up, “We’ve got enough drones now to station them around in the tunnels to keep up hive mind communications all the way to the Crystal Empire. Plus, they can alert you to any shadow sightings around them before running away. I’ll need one of you guys,” he looks at Connie, “to stay here, though. Just to help Granite and myself with decisions and to avoid you having to mess with maps. We’ll have all the information laid out here in front of us.”

“As well as a hostage just in case,” he adds internally to One.

“You’re devious, Six. I like that,” One’s hive link image smiles at him.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need. Another mare making Five jealous. I’m one flirty look away from being chained to that wall cross thing in the cellar already.”

One only chuckles in response.

“You can communicate over long distances like that?” Connie whistles, “We should really employ few more normal changelings at some point. Maybe a wizard one. Hey, Seven, are you interested?”

“Do you have a library in which I can read on my own pretty much forever?”

“We have some newspapers in the bathroom...”

“Then no, thank you.”

“Astray, you’re staying,” says Connie, not discouraged at all, and the satyr nods immediately, “I might need Bubbles’ nose. We’ll also avoid another changeling lollipop scenario like that.”

Bubbles grumbles something unrecognizable.

“So it’s settled,” says One, “Contradiction, Bubbles, me, Five, and Seven are the scouting party. Six, Granite, and Astray will manage the drone movement to keep us connected with the base.”

Granite coughs.

“And if you don’t mind, use the emergency exit tunnel from the castle and then a proper route around the city this time. It will take a bit longer, but I don’t think I can take any more guards buzzing at me.”

***

“In my defense, I was exhausted!” Seven rolls his eyes, “I had just teleported a whole squad of changelings from the hive to the Crystal Empire.”

The group are standing in front of a section of wall indistinguishable from any other part of the direct connecting tunnel. This time, One led the group immediately to where she was attacked instead of wandering around endless dwarven corridors. To the surprise of no one and many biting remarks from Connie, it was around the same area where Seven recalled feeling a little off while returning back to the hive with the others. After identifying the oddity in the tunnel as some sort of extremely powerful and complex illusion, Connie called for Astray to come. The group have been camping at the same spot since with no shadow sightings.

Thanks to that, though, Seven had time to focus and listen to the foreign knowledge inside his head and do a proper examination of the spell far beyond anything he’s attempted before.

“Whoever made this could outmagic me in their sleep,” Seven shakes his head, “This is an actual physical illusion.”

“What’s that?” asks Five.

“It means that what the illusion looks like will affect how you react to it. What you see is what you get,” says Bubbles in a happy tone proud of herself, “Like if it looks like a fire, you’ll get burned. If it looks like a wall, you ain’t getting through. If it looks like Astray, you can lick it-”

“They get it,” Connie pats Bubbles’ head, “I’m glad you’re paying attention during Starlight’s lessons.”

Bubbles beams.

“She’s like a smarter and dangerous version of Three...” comments Five internally.

“She can’t be used as a flashlight, nor can she occasionally cure cancer. I’m pretty sure they both can cause diabetes, though,” replies One, rather bored of the whole situation. Fifteen hours of Seven poking a wall wasn’t her idea of time well spent.

“The voices echo here a long way,” calls out Astray from the distance, “What was that about licking me?”

Bubbles bolts towards him accompanied by two dwarves and two changeling warriors.

“Do you need any help, your Majesty?” asks the leading dwarf after they approach the campsite, “The loremaster told us we’re to stay if needed.”

One shakes her head.

“I doubt we’re going to have space no matter where this leads. We would just get into each other’s way, especially with the scatter of your weapons. I’m already not too keen on Astray’s pistol and Five’s shotgun.”

“Understood, your Majesty. Anything else?”

“No, you’re free to go.”

“And us?” asks Hundred-and-Four.

“Same,” replies One.

And just like that, the two dwarves and two changelings turn around to for the return trip to Brauheim.

“So, what did you find out?” asks Astray, standing still as Bubbles climbs on his back, wraps her forelegs around his shoulders, and just hangs on him like a backpack.

“Physical illusion,” repeats Seven, “But there is an alarm spell attached to it. As far as I can see, the spell is tied to dispelling the illusion, not just to hanging around or touching it,” he taps at the wall. It acts exactly like a mass of solid rock, “It’s a masterpiece. Shame to ruin it, really,” he frowns as he catches One’s irritated glance, “Okay, enough fawning. I can dispel it, but not without triggering the alarm. I’m just not skilled enough. I know exactly how it works and what the spell involves, I just don’t know the proper counterspells, and I’d need a looot of time to figure those out.”

“Any ideas from the evil-purging experts?” asks One.

“We just go in, really,” Connie shrugs, “As soon as Seven dispels it, Astray fires a quicksilver bullet to at least weaken anything magical in the way, I’m shielding everyone, and Bubbles charges forward to be bounced around by any spike, saw, or crushing traps.”

“Alright then. Crazy guys first, we go next,” One stands up from her sitting mediation, “Seven, do the honors.”

Seven’s horn gradually starts glowing, sending out tendrils of green magic against the wall where they leave angular symbols which look as if they’ve always been there, just somehow lost in the pattern of the smooth stone. As if reading a book, the runes light up from top left and go right, row after row. In less than a minute, they fill up a square the size of two internal house doors, which splits down in the center, opens inside, and shatters.

Seven screams as an arc of energy sends him against the opposite wall and then tosses him deeper into the normal tunnel. One and Five rush off to help him when they lose his hive link, but the Silver Sun group heads through the fresh entrance and down a set of stairs, knowing time is of the essence.

“Seven, Seven?” One puts her horn to Seven’s, trying to force some love into him. The charred and twitching changeling is still smoking and hot to the touch, but he’s full of love already.

“Ughhh...” he moans after a not entirely gentle poke from Five.

“Stay here with him,” orders One, “If he heals enough to move, have him return to Brauheim. If he’s in worse shape than he looks, take him there.”

“I can help, One,” Five looks at the glimmering entrance to the tunnel. She could swear the glow wasn’t there when the Silver Sun group went in, “He’ll be okay.”

“Make sure he’s okay. I don’t want a random shadow to appear and eat him,” says One firmly, upon which Five salutes, “Good warrior.”

With that, One jumps straight into the barely visible shimmer and, unlike the others, disappears.

As her consciousness reassembles itself after the unexpected teleportation, she finds herself nowhere near the Silver Sun group but far from alone. A wide open, crystalline warehouse spreads around her. It’s freezing cold even for her in here, and there are dozens of workbenches lining the walls with a huge pony body on each. Acrid, chemical smells coupled with very faint necrotic decay despite the motionless bodies permeate the air. Straight ahead is a round table filled with books, drawing boards, and documents.

“I thought we still had time. I guess there’s more visitors then.”

Aaand a skeleton of a pony wearing a necklace with a red crystal around its neck who has just spoken. Next to him stands what at one point must have been Star Trail. Now, only the most basic semblance of the features of his muzzle remains. The rest of his body is One’s own size, the horn is just a red crystal set in a metal framework fastened to his forehead. He’s all grey, muscular, with a tail ending in a sharp blade. There’s nothing recognizable about him otherwise, since it’s obvious to One that this body has been stitched and fused out of the pile of corpses in the open containers in the back of the warehouse.

Oh, and the furious grimace as he recognizes One is familiar too.

“I didn’t care when you wanted to kill Celestia, but up here...” One’s eyes promise death, “You’re too close to home.”

Not waiting for anything, One zig-zags towards the lich.

“Get rid of her, I’m busy,” the lich says in a calm tone, and starts walking away as Star Trail simply charges straight at One, one flying sword joining him shortly.

They can’t have any understanding of One’s real reaction time. In less than the second she has before Star Trail reaches her, she notes several things. First, Star Trail is faster than ever before even despite his greater mass and presumably strength. Second, the lich genuinely moves away and doesn’t seem to want to fight her for whatever reason. Third, during no encounter has the lich had that necklace on him. And fourth, wherever the Silver Sun group went, it wasn’t here.

One jumps into the air, spins to kick the sword away with her hind leg while giving herself the momentum to land a downward hook against Star Trail’s muzzle. She immediately notes he’s even faster than she expected him to be, and by a lot. That punch was supposed to destroy his artificial horn, and he was quick enough to lean backwards. Now, that doesn’t mean he’s anywhere near as fast as he needs to avoid One’s attacks altogether, just that he can protect himself from instant death… or re-death.

If the lich decides to rejoin the battle, that advantage might not be enough for One.

The sheer force of the punch makes Star Trail lower his head, but at that instant, his horn flashes, the red glow solidifying into a sharp point. Even One’s rection speed doesn’t catch anything until she feels burning light spear her neck clean through. With a flick of his head, One slips off of the magically enhanced horn as Star Trail tosses her away in a shower of green blood.

When she looks up, he’s already glowing with magic, horn pointed at her again.

It’s a spell. Some kind of teleportation or burst speed enhancement like Three saw him use in the Canterlot dungeons. And he’s faster than I can react...

Fear, however, doesn’t exist in One’s world. At least not fear of herself dying in battle.

You might be fast, but not indestructible. Stoppable force, meet immovable object.

All she does is reinforce the front of her neck and chest chitin to maximum as well as pour strength to her hind legs to keep her steady. The middle of her body will have to hold up au naturale. Or whatever that posh expression is.

Star Trail’s charge hits, and One’s vision actually blurs.

“...okay, that fu- freaking hurt...” she coughs out blood, finding herself flung all the way to the workbenches by the walls.

Star Trail is already walking towards her. The obliterated crystal on his forehead is nothing but a small shard half rammed in his flesh and half fastened by twisted remains of the holding construction. Judging by his sword lying motionless on the floor, One is in the clear as far as magic goes at this point.

She grins, quickly getting back on all fours. The energy everywhere around is revitalizing her slowly but surely. They must be straight up in the Crystal Empire, not far from the castle actually. She basically has infinite amount of love at her disposal. Not at once, but quickly replenishing itself. Her internal bleeding stops, and torn organs heal themselves before Star Trail can get to her. Spreading energy all over her body again, she attacks.

To her surprise, her flurry of punches has next to no effect as Star Trail simply takes them and uppercuts her so hard she makes a flip in the air.

What the hole?

She lands on all fours, of course, facing Star Trail marching towards her like an unstoppable avalanche. He’s obviously strong enough to treat her weight as barely significant, and as far as it looks, blunt trauma isn’t a thing for him. It must be the rigid frozen and dead flesh as a baseline for him, with some added magical enhancements by the lich.

How stupid…

Growing her usual sharp blades, she attacks, landing several slashes until Star Trail finally manages to grab her head with his forelegs, swing her around, and slam her against the smooth floor with such strength that she slides away.

Redundant tendons for motion control in case of trouble, extremely tough flesh, and he doesn’t feel pain. It’s not just some silly enchantment, it’s actually some fused shi- stuff that’s pretty resilient. Alright, the only way is to actually destroy him at this point. Killing isn’t a thing anymore. I wish Comfort or Gem were here. Chemistry is the key here.

The lich has left, though. How and to where, One has no idea.

Transforming her forehooves into claws, she swipes at Star Trail. It’s going to take time, but she literally has to take him apart, strip of flesh after strip of dead flesh. Star Trail block the blows or downright ignores them, not swinging wildly anymore, instead of waiting for a chance to grab One or land a good hit. He has no clue that this close to the Crystal Heart he can’t win.

Suddenly, he smirks, which makes One reconsider her situation. A quick peek behind her shows the lich is back, this time without the necklace.

“All done,” he says, “Let’s do some spring cleaning.”

His horn flashes, and One has to narrowly avoid a dark beam of energy which sends chills through her chitin despite just passing by. Energy draining magic. One balances her love levels more into speed, awareness, and general reactions than durability. Crystal Heart or not, she can’t afford getting hit too much by that anymore.

The real fight for her life starts now, but unlike that time with the Vigil, this one is in her hooves.

13-2: Shadow over the north

View Online

Contradiction’s mental punch shatters a new reinforced door blocking the tunnel. Bubbles rushes inside into pitch blackness.

“There’s nothing- aaah! Something cold tried to grab me!” yelps Bubbles and swipes her claws against the darkness impenetrable even to her eyes.

Astray rushes inside, pulling a glimmering crystal out of his pouch that he got from the dwarves. He throws it on the floor. As it hits the solid stone, it hisses, lets out a pulse of light which illuminates the room, and leaves behind a soft glow. Bubbles immediately backs away from an ethereal black arm reaching out of the floor.

Where the door was behind them is a stone wall now, and the room appears to stretch into a hallway hundred pony lengths long and as wide as Canterlot ballroom. On the distant end, two elongated purple crystals crackle with power, exchange several arcs of energy, and open a rift in reality between them.

“It’s a trap! A pocket dimension!” calls out Connie, “More stable than in Manehatan or Canterlot. Destroy the crystals!”

Astray immediately aims his pistol into the distance. He’s a good shot, but the weapon as well as quicksilver bullets aren’t effective past maybe twenty pony lengths at best. One shot proves that without doubt, and the group rush ahead as more cracks in reality start appearing behind them.

From those cracks, shadows start crawling out. Connie feels her powers freak out as something seems to search near the crystal rift, tendrils of darkness creeping out and licking the floor.

“Destroy the crystals, DESTROY THE CRYSTALS!” she screams from the top of her lungs, her tone high-pitched and far from her usual calm or irritation.

As the first shadow crawls out of a dark crack, Connie helps it by ripping it out and crushing it against the nearest piece of real floor all while running ahead. Bubbles darts between the claws of ever-growing amount of enemies, not bothering to fight them but trying to reach the crystals instead. A shadow rears on its snakelike tail in front of her, which she uses to pounce on its head, and to propel herself forward over the nearest crawling enemies. Astray follows the trail cleared out by Connie, reloading his pistol.

A bulge of something massive pushes through the rift, bending even the reality around it.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Connie screeches in pure horror, “IT MUSTN’T GET OUT, IT MUSTN’T GET OUT!”

Astray can’t decribe what happens next, he only feels a gentle push backwards. Ahead, though, shadow after shadow disintegrate along with a slow-moving shockwave pulsing with power away from Connie.

However, that’s all Astray needed.

The wave of utter destruction stops before reaching Bubbles who, without any calculations, simply rams into the left crystal. At the same time, Astray, standing with legs apart and holding the pistol with both hands, fires the entire clip into the second crystal.

The right crystal cracks with the first shot hit, and shatters with the next two. Bubbles just bites the other one in half, her eyes crossing as a surge of released energy rams her against the ceiling.

With something resembling an ethereal sigh which sends chills creeping up everyone’s spine, the main rift closes, and shortly after, the cracks, the shadows, and everything else fades, leving behind only a simple square room with a door in front of which the group are standing and gasping for breath. Aside from Bubbles, who is still crackling with lightining, hair standing on edge.

“Amokay!” she sits up suddenly, blinking and turning her head from side to side, lightning still sparking between the tips of her ears occasionally.

“Then get moving!” hisses Connie coldly, “No more rifts, we can’t allow any more things like this. We must stop this now!”

Without further waiting, she heads through the door and up a set of smooth stairs. She pauses in front of the door at the top as she hears the sound of breaking furniture from the inside, but it’s only a brief stop as when Bubbles arrives with Astray in tow, she telekinetically rips the door off of its hinges, gags a little when the stench of blood and necrotic flesh assaults her nostrils, and rushes into the freezing warehouse where One has just thrown Star Trail against one of many metal workbenches by the wall. To the brief surprise of the arriving group, it’s the workbench that bends, not Star Trail.

The lich standing in the back with his horn glowing red looks at the destroyed door of the cellar, and lets out a blast of light Connie’s way. His aim is accurate even over the size of the warehouse, but the projectile isn’t fast enough to hit, so it simply disappears against the wall of the stairwell as all three Silver Sun members rush inside and into the fray.

One spits at Star Trail whose ribage is showing, the acid slowly stripping away even more of his flesh. Despite gradually losing his left side mobility, Star Trail is still a formidable opponent, especially when One can’t turn her back to the lich. Thankfully, that’s a problem that currently seems to be solving itself.

As Connie rushes forward, tentacles sprouting from the floor and throwing workbench after workbench at the lich who has to shoot them down, Bubbles darts past her at much greater speed, using the cover of the central set of tables to her advantage. They both are enough of a distraction to allow Astray in the back to look for a clear shot at the right time.

Within less than five seconds, Bubbles has managed to flank the lich, and darts towards him from the side, jaws open. The lich reacts quickly, though, and she finds herself flying off hit by something knocking the wind out of her and making her whole front itch and burn.

“Silver dust and simple telekinesis?” Astray furrows his brows. That’s never been a standard defense of any mage he fought before, strictly because it wouldn’t do anything to a normal pony other than a bruise and some light scratches. Was the lich able to identify what Bubbles is this fast, or did he know beforehoof?

He aims and fires at the lich’s head, chipping a small fragment off of its horn and stopping whatever spell was about to hit Connie.

The lich stumbles backwards, and the nearest of Connie’s tentacles slams down on him, protective spells crackling and breaking, but slowing the blow enough to only push the lich away.

The ever-grinning skull with eyes glowing red flicks its horn, and something akin to a grey cube appears around Connie, quickly fading along with her.

“HEY!” Bubbles quickly pats herself to dust herself off and clean the silver out of the scratches, nods at Astray who nods back, and charges at the lich.

The satyr has three quicksilver bullets left. He needs to make those count.

He takes the steady firing range position, something that would have him killed in any fight where he would need to dodge, aims as the lich looks away from him down at approaching Bubbles, and pulls the trigger.

However, that is the mistake.

The lich completely ignores Bubbles as she bites its hind leg off easily, and fires a bolt of dark energy at Astray. The spell twists the air around and sends chills down even Bubbles’ spine. What’s worse, it hits Astray directly in the chest. Bubbles can see something like blue mist being ripped out of the satyr as his eyes roll back, and despite any blood or visible physical damage, he keels backwards, the pistol falling from his hands.

“Astray? ASTRAY?!” Bubbles screams, rushing past the lich as she forgets her situation and surroundings completely. To something inside her, that spell seemed definitely fatal.

She stops by the satyr who isn’t breathing, moving, and is getting colder and colder with each second in this freezing warehouse. She saw him dead once during the training, during the death arena spell when she didn’t know it was all fake, and this brings back all the horror and pain from that experience, and doubles it with the knowledge that this is one hundred percent real.

With a roar, One rips Star Trail’s ribcage open, and finds what definitely shouldn’t be there. In place of the heart is a reinforced leathery pouch glowing purple from the inside. Whatever it is, it must be important.

An impact from behind sends her tumbling forward, and she feels her strength rapidly leaving her, her immense love reserves burning out within moments. Star Trail kicks her away, rolls to the side, and gets back on all four just as she does.

One growls as she notices Bubbles crying over what she presumes to be Astray’s corpse. Contradiction is nowhere to be seen either.

All in all, not great. Not lost either, though.

Sudden overwhelming odds are nothing new to One, and she’s far from panicking. Whatever draining magic the lich hit her with did its job, but she’s still a warrior made to be extremely efficient even with very little love, and there’s the beating of the Crystal Heart in the distance. As long as she can conserve love and dodge more spells like that, time is on her side.

Barrel ripped open in half and one foreleg almost completely skeletal at this point, Star Trail still approaches her, although much more carefully. He knows he’s there as a meat shield for the lich who should be able to solve the situation on his own eventually.

Both the lich’s head and Star Trail’s snap to something behind her at the same time, convincing her they’re not faking it. The following blasts of buckshot from Five passing by like a blur shatter Star Trail’s fake heart, sending pieces of some pulsating purple crystal scattering around.

One can sense Seven as well, and a quick look backwards reveals the stumbling changeling surrounded by floating runes which coalesce into a ball that floats over to a seemingly random place of the warehouse, and fades. Afterwards, Seven starts shuffling over to Astray and Bubbles.

Where the ball vanished, tentacles appear out of nowhere, and as if ripping open some invisible prison, Connie appears.

The lich disappears in a flash.

“No, not this time!” growls Connie, and the tentacles reach to the place where he was a moment ago, their tips disappearing into the solid air as if it was the surface of a lake. They tense up, and start pulling back. With a mighty heave, they drag the lich out of a teleportation spell, and slam it against the floor.

Connie’s horn flashes, and a brutal push of telekinesis which makes the walls of the warehouse shake turns the whole skeleton into dust. The ensuing silence is broken only by heavy breathing and Bubbles’ sobbing.

“Seven?” asks One as the mage examines Astray.

“He’s not dead. This is some kind of a continuous energy draining spell with a secondary summoning component that I can’t quickly identify supposed to happen when the target dies. But he has minutes at best. I don’t know what’s causing it, but it’s not magic, it’s different.”

“Does the term divinity mean something to you?”

“Yes, is that supposed to be it?”

“The lich was trying to drain divinity from Celestia, Luna, and others.”

“If the effect is at least partially divine, then I would need something divine or demonic to at least slow the spell down.”

“Demonic?” asks One.

“Two sides of the same coin. No time to explain in detail.”

“Bubbles,” One rushes over and shakes the demonette, “Seven can help, but he needs your assistance.”

“Anything!” Bubbles immediately nods, “Anything... anything… just help him...”

“She’s part demon,” One explains to Seven, “Do what you can.”

“This might-” Seven’s horn starts glowing again, “No, that will hurt. I apologize in advance.”

As threads of magic cast by Seven begin the long process of binding Astray and Bubbles together, the demonette can only scream her lungs out.

***

“-and then miss One and this… Contradiction unicorn opted to stay in the Crystal Empire to keep looking for the lich and Star Trail, because it was clear that the warehouse was their main hideout. Contradiction ordered the Crystal Guards to get Astray and Bubbles to Canterlot, because if divinity was involved, there would be experts here. I’m here to bring a hive memory copy of the events to you and the story to everyone else, boss,” Six finishes retelling the events.

“So,” Cromach speaks out first, “I think our goal is clear. We know where Arcane Hex was operating from. although I’m not sure how or why-”

“I can clear that up for you,” Luna interrupts him, “In the same way Arcane Hex was behind a lot of tweaks of the castle wards, after king Sombra was defeated, the wizard orders were tasked to secure the Crystal Castle in a similar way.”

“Aaaand you obviously brought the experts on board, I get it,” Cromach nods, “So he was using both the Crystal Castle wards and Canterlot wards to travel around, or specifically between those two points.”

“Doesn’t that mean he can still operate at full power in the Crystal Empire?” I ask, not seeing the victorious point here.

“No, dear beardy,” Cromach smirks at me, “It means he has no choice but to still operate from the Crystal Empire if he wants to outrun the clock on the stolen divinity destroying him like Magnus said.”

“Then we have to go there as soon as possible,” I say, “I can’t let that guy roam free. If Star Trail is this close to my hive...” I end up only sighing.

“I wish I could be of any help, but with the castle unprotected, I need to stay here. I can send guards if you want,” offers Luna.

“Don’t worry about it, your Majesty,” I give her a tired smile.

Hesitant knocking on the door of Cromach’s office makes us all look up.

“Come in!” Cromach calls out.

With a smile, Anvil walks in. A moment of questioning silence later, the exhausted figures of Astray and Bubbles shuffle inside as well. To everyone’s relief, Astray looks strangely okay considering the shape he was brought in. Bruises? Yes. Rotting flesh? No.

Cromach’s relieved chuckle boosts the mood of everyone.

“I would hug you, but you look as if you’d break,” he says.

“Well...” Astray starts, pauses, rubs Bubbles behind the ear, and then scratches his own head, “I don’t know where to start.”

“Alright, let me help,” Cromach looks at the two, “When can you grab a gun and go with us to the Crystal Empire for some payback?”

“I don’t feel like it, but princess Celestia said we’ll be okay tomorrow or the day after at most,” says Bubbles without the usual cheer, though.

“That does sound great. Where’s the big but?”

“King Beard,” Astray straightens up, “What your changeling wizard did to save us was makeshift at best, and… the way I understand it is that what’s keeping me alive against the power of the curse is Bubbles’ lifeforce. Well, princess Celestia couldn’t unbind us without killing me, so she strengthened the bond instead and made it permanent.”

“I’m so sorry...” I look down at the carpet.

“I didn’t mean it in any negative way, your Majesty,” Astray adds quickly, “Without your changelings, I would be dead already, and some powerful demon would be rampaging through the Crystal Empire. That’s what the curse does - it kills the target and uses the burned soul to summon something terrible from Tartarus. I’m just saying that I don’t have too long to live, and when I go, Bubbles goes as well.”

“How long?” asks Cromach, voice cracking.

“No one knows,” Astray shrugs, “That depends on Bubbles here.”

“I’ll do a ton of exercise every day and eat all the vegetables to be as healthy as I can and keep us together for long!” Bubbles smiles from ear to ear. It’s a little forced, but the hope is there.

“Astray… I can let you go with a pension or have you teach at the headquarters. You’ve earned it hundred times over,” says Cromach.

“I’d rather not, sir,” Astray salutes, “Princess Celestia said that the bond between us isn’t going to limit us in any ways other than lifespan and the distance we can be away from each other. I’ll be ready to shoot again after some sleep. Physically, whatever the curse did at first was just the loss of lifeforce Bubbles is replenishing right now, and she herself only got some silver-based scratches.”

“Then we’re taking the overnight train to the Crystal Empire tomorrow. Beardo, how about you?”

“I’ll have to check with Gem as to whom I need to leave here for the summit, but I’m coming no matter what.”

“Did you forget that Celestia ended the thing?” Anvil interrupts me, quickly adding, “Your Majesty.”

“I thought it was over just for those who needed to go home,” I raise an eyebrow.

“One - I think that counts. Two - since some rulers said they had to leave already, after you left with Six everyone came to the agreement that any unfinished business between kingdoms will be dealt with by diplomats who can remain here until the official date. Rulers are always here to appear in front of other rulers anyway, so if you don’t have anything you need to polish off, you’re free to leave without any diplomatic consequences. It’s officially all over.”

Is it real? Is this whole stupid thing really finished? Can I get back home focus on punching the everliving snot out of Star Trail for the final time?

“I still do have something I need to see to, though,” I say, looking at Cromach, “I’ll tell you if something changes.”

“Sure thing,” the griffon shrugs.

“What’s that, boss?” asks Six.

“Eleven,” I sigh, and stand up, “If you excuse me, this is hive business. Nothing you can help with.”

“Ah, your little anomalous changeling,” Luna nods, “My guards informed me. Good luck.”

With a bow, Six and I leave.

***

Early in the morning, I feel a gentle tap inside my mind as I’m sitting on the roof again, watching the sunrise, something the position of Canterlot makes easy to do. Six is asleep in one of our guest rooms, both physically and mentally exhausted after everything.

“Boss! Boss! Bossbossbossboss!”

“Three? Is it done? How is Eleven?”

“Come here. You need to see this.”

I dive off of the roof, and stop in front of our window which Three opens for me. The room is crowded. I blink at the unbelievable spectacle as I feel four new threads in the tapesty of the hive mind, and just stare.

There is no pile of unmoving Elevens in the corner anymore. Instead, the ten tiny changelings are swarming around the room, bouncing on furniture, and playing with each other as well as Three. On Gem’s bed, there’s a new and yet familiar changeling who smiles at me. He’s bigger than Three, about the size of a normal infiltrator, and his carapace is smooth, black, but with a tinge of blue.

He looks at me. All Elevens stop as one, and in the next instant pile on me with giggling and laughing. Within a second, I’m wearing an armor made of living changelings while one is sitting on my head, holding on by my horn.

“Is that you, Eleven?” I look at the new body which must be from one of Cryo’s eggs.

“Totally, boss!” he salutes, “I feel weird, though.”

“The reaction of Eleven’s mind was completely different from anything I’ve seen before,” Gem speaks up, clearly exhausted, “All the other bodies latched to this one when I showed them the way. I think Eleven is different now.”

“I have so many legs!” exclaims Eleven.

“You’ve had those all the time,” I comment, not seeing the first problem and trying to avoid the second elephant in the room for as long as I can.

“No no no no, I had so many heads too! Now I have only one,” he explains, failing to explain anything.

“I need someone smarter for this. Gem?” I give my daughter a pleading look.

“Well, I think Eleven is a bit more centralized now. More than eleven bodies connected by a link, he feels like one body with many, many limbs. Does that help? I’m seeing this for the first time too. We’ll have to wait and see the advantages and disadvantages.”

You know what? All these details aren’t important anyway. There’s only one thing.

“Will you be okay, Eleven?”

“Eleven hundred percent, boss!” the main body stands up, wobbles a bit, and Gem helps him walk off of the bed, “I mean after I get used to having long legs.”

Shaking the small Elevens off, I can’t avoid the second thing any longer.

In the corner of the room lies Cryo, curled up around four changelings of the same hue and build as the new main Eleven. They are all watching me, intently but in total silence. They’re also poking around inside my head, in that part accessible to general changeling public.

When I take a step towards them, they all untangle themselves from Cryo’s legs, stand up, and finally press their muzzles against the carpet as they kneel before me in perfect sync.

“Cryo?” I ask the old queen who looks up at me momentarily before giving her full attention to the four kneeling changelings again. I can see the wet trails on her face coming from her eyes. As little as I can reach into her mind, I know she’s been crying for a long time. At first, I assume she is crushed by what Gem must have done for us all to get here, but then it comes together as I decipher the feelings slowly creeping from her to myself.

Gem broke her principles for me, and destroyed a potential life of Cryo’s spawn so that Eleven could recover. That’s not why Cryo is crying. She’s a warrior, she’s been one longer than all of us put together have been alive. One more death means nothing to her after millions, but after centuries, after her failure forced her to personally wipe out her hive…

...after all that…

...she once again brought life into the world, a spark of hope not just for us, but for her broken mind too.

“Gem?” I internally poke her, “You said all her eggs were blank.”

“They were, but when I started manipulating Eleven and examining which body would be the best, all of them caught on.”

“Gem...”

“All of them, dad...”

“I know.”

“I killed one.”

“I know...”

“What if it turned out to be the next you, the hope for everyone.”

“What if he or she turned out to be Chrysalis?” I object.

“What if it turned out to be the next Three?”

“I’m sorry… but you did save someone who wasn’t just potential or blind hope, you saved a friend to all of us.”

“I know… but knowing isn’t helping anyway...”

I walk over and hug her. Or try to, because she pushes me away.

“Sorry, dad, but I can’t… not now. I did everything you asked for, and now… now I just need to be alone for a while.”

I sigh.

“I’m afraid I can’t give you much time, honey,” I say. She gives me a questioning glance, “I take it that you haven’t read mine or Six’s head then yet.”

“What is Six doing here?!” she asks, ears splaying back, “Did something happen back home?”

“I’ll tell you everything on the way. We’re leaving in the evening, the summit is over. Take the day off,” I stroke her mane, “Do you need a refill? You look exhausted.”

She shakes her head, and shuffles out of the room.

“I’ll go with her,” says Three immediately.

“She needs to be alone now, Three,” I shake my head, “Give her space.”

He stops hovering in the air, clearly wanting to say something, but decides against it, instead landing by the still kneeling changelings. There’s no chaos in their minds like there’s in Cryo’s. As far as I can tell, they’re all perfectly healthy fresh additions to our hive.

“Stand up,” I test their hive links. They rise immediately. I nod, “Stay with your mom. Right now, she needs you more than I do.”

With a synchronized bow, they all sprawl over the huge queen. After all, there is more than enough space.

“Three.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Come with me. We’ll sort everything out so that we can finally leave this cursed place. If I never see Canterlot again, I’ll be a happy changeling.”

“What about Shuffles?”

“You can visit him whenever you want. Holes know we have the gold at home to build our own set of train tracks if we wanted to.”

***

“I hug the skeleton into submission!” Three throws the dice which lands on nineteen.

“Awww, almost,” Gem smirks, “The power of friendship just barely fails to ignite within the skeleton, but you still deal...” she rolls her own set of dice, “Oh gosh, eighteen plus six damage. The skeleton crumbles in your hug.”

“Shucks, I’m too strong for my own good,” Three shakes his head, “Can I add pillows to my gloves and chestplate?”

“You do know we’re the good guys trying to defeat the evil necromancer vampire Mareovich, right? We can’t turn his henchponies as well as him to the good side,” comments Two.

“It works in some cases,” Three pouts.

“You don’t have enough blacksmithing skill to add pillows, Three,” Gem continues, “Cromach, your turn.”

“Song of Luck and Competence on the whole group,” snickers the griffon, “I want to see if Three can turn the next one for real with some buffs.”

Gem leans over to him, and hisses quietly.

“Look, I allowed him to be a twenty-two base strength minotaur with huge tits whose sole point is to hug enemies into submission. I’m using monk grapple rolls and hoping for the best, but if you keep enabling him, the campaign will get silly!”

Cromach’s grin only grows as he glances Anvil’s way. The minotaur isn’t playing, but sitting by the coupe door with a somewhat bored expression.

“I must have Anvil try that at some point. She’s got the pillows built in already,” he whispers back.

“Dad, your turn,” Gem nods at me sitting on the other side of the coupe.

Oh, if it wasn’t obvious, despite everything we’re finishing the OnO campaign we started on the way to Canterlot. It helps kill time and take our mind off of unproductive worries as we’re sitting on the train to the Crystal Empire.

“Uhhh,” I hesitate, “I try to hide in the shadows, and while the others are fighting I pick the lock on the door we just passed,” I roll the twenty-sided dice which lands on one.

“Ouch,” Gem winces, “Your lockpick breaks, but the door slams open, revealing a skeleton with a set of hoof blades on his left foreleg.”

“I use my quickness of hoof feat which allows me a reactive action when surprised,” I reply immediately, “And I steal the skeleton’s foreleg along with a weapon.”

“That’s not stealing, that’s strength check,” argues Gem.

“What? No!” I smirk, “Does the skeleton have anything I have to rip off, or can I just unhook the leg from the joint?”

“Okay, coupled roll at best,” she narrows her eyes at me.

I roll twice.

“Oh for crying out loud,” Gem rolls her eyes, “With the bonus from Cromach’s bardic song, you succeed on both, thus quickly robbing the skeleton guard of both his weapon and his foreleg.”

“I put it into my bag to sell later while pretending it’s a special kind of bone spear,” I can’t help snickering.

“Done,” Gem sighs, “Two, your turn.”

“I was channeling that AoE banishment spell thing.”

“Oh right, roll for concentration.”

Two rolls.

“You fa- oh my bad. Cromach’s bonus gets you over the difficulty check,” Gem clears her throat, “With a mighty blast of golden light illuminating the hallway of the castle, the wave of skeletons pouring from both sides ends as their bones turn to dust and the dark magic holding their souls hostage fails against the onslaught of Two’s holy banishment. As you blink to regain your vision, you realize that you’re alone,” announces Gem, “Oh, that also means the leg in your backpack turns to dust, dad.”

“There goes my gold...” I mumble, “No one buys just a set of rusty hoof blades.”

“I immediately rush off ahead to find something to hug,” says Three.

“That’s not smart inside an evil castle,” comments Two, our party’s cleric.

“Miss Gem specifically said barbarians didn’t need intelligence,” Three taps his forehead.

“I cast expedited retreat on Three so that he can find someone faster,” says Cromach, “It’s a level one spell, I can do that before he gets out of range.”

“Roll me luck,” Gem narrows her eyes at him.

Sixteen, that’s enough.

“Three blurs and disappears into the maze of castle halls,” Gem sighs, “You get another movement action because you’re so fast.”

“I go up and find the biggest door I can see.”

Gem checks her hoof-drawn map, and facehoofs.

“You barge into the throne room. There’s a grey unicorn wearing a dark blue coat with red inlay-”

“HUGZ!” Three beams.

“He’s not friendly, Three. Roll for initiative.”

“Yay, twenty!”

Gem’s eye twitches.

“You manage to surprise Mareovich as he’s about to launch his evil monologue, but as you rush over and hug him, you can feel he’s much stronger than his physique should allow. You know you will never crush the vampire into submission.”

“I try anyway!”

“Look,” Gem throws a character sheet at Three who hasn’t stopped grinning for a second, “He is baseline stronger than you, has an enormous amount of magical protections on his body, and he’s pure evil and broken hearted after his lover got killed by the villagers for being a witch. It’s not mathematically possible for you to win a hugging contest.”

Three grabs the sheet, furrows his brows, and mumbles:

“Carry the seven… and… and… that means I need to roll… twenty-two?” he looks up at Gem questioningly.

“Twenty-four,” Gem corrects him, “And there’s nothing like carry the seven. Even with all the buffs still active from Cromach and Two you still need to roll that.”

“Easy,” Three grabs the dice.

“On a twenty-sided dice...” Gem throws her forelegs into the air in surrender, “Fine, screw it, roll!”

The runes on Three’s body glow brighter, and he throws the dice.

The small, rolling objects stops…

...showing twenty-eight.

“Yaaaay, we win! Baddies are now goodies.”

13-3: Shadow over the north

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Star Trail gasps for breath, and opens his eyes. In contrast to his now usual ‘resurrections’, he remains lying on the cold, stone bench for a short while. He can hear the clicking of bones as Arcane Hex walks around whatever this new place is. Eventually, he stands up, realizing he’s in a body that could loosely be called his own, and that the thing he was lying on isn’t a workbench but something like a stone altar. The only other thing in here is a black, circular mirror reaching from the floor to the ceiling.

“What happened?” he asks Hex who is currently busy arranging clumps of crystals around the dim, empty room, “Where are we?”

Arcane Hex, without stopping, replies:

“One of the secret cellars in the Crystal Castle left behind by king Sombra. After his defeat, I wanted to do some research about how the shadow king got so much power even when necromancy was much weaker than these days, but Celestia wanted the whole castle cleaned and purified, foolish mare. The king was so far ahead of everyone in the wizard orders in terms of knowledge. So, I simply didn’t report finding this when we were creating the new protective spells.”

“And?” Star Trail pokes the mirror. It’s smooth and not at all sinister as one would expect.

“And what?”

“Did you discover something about Sombra’s power? I wasn’t part of the recovery effort due to being in prison, but I heard about it from the few friends I retained after… after the changelings got me,” Star Trail’s usual spite is missing from his voice.

“I know things that would make my ex-colleagues tremble in their robes,” Arcane Hex chuckles, “That’s how I learned about the inner workings of divinity in the first place. You see, Sombra wasn’t a pony at all. He was what some ancient texts refer to as ‘Umbrum’. And do you know what both Sombra and Umbrum refer to?”

“No idea.”

“A shadow.”

“Wait, like those from the rifts?”

“Exactly. I used them to spy on Cromach in Manehattan, since they can possess minds. The stronger ones can even warp them like we did with the changelings. Sombra was something else, something above them. I explored the restricted section of Canterlot library as well as Sombra’s personal one here before the ignorant barbarians burned it, and I found a reference to some entities called dark travellers. Energy draining, instilling fear, mind control, those were all Sombra’s signature things, and the strengths of the shadows I can summon. Still, I could rescue only the bare minimum of knowledge from this place after his destruction.”

“I see,” Star Trail frowns, “What do we do now that your lab isn’t usable, though?”

“I’m running out of time, I can feel it,” if Arcane Hex could scowl, he would, and he rubs the necklace once again hanging around his neck. It’s much easier to withstand the soul-ripping pain with the phylactery on him, but with the powers he’s attacking, it’s too dangerous to have it with him all the time, “Last time, I was trying to avoid harming Celestia as you wanted, but that’s not an option anymore. We have to kill her.”

“What?” Star Trail blinks in surprise, “What about the others? Luna, Cadance, Novo, that Cromach guy of yours.”

Arcane Hex walks over to the mirror, and taps it. The glass resonates, and ripples spread like on the surface of a pond.

“No. They are all too weak. Celestia is the only one with enough raw power to sustain me.”

“We can’t do it anyway,” objects Star Trail, “We don’t have castle energy to draw upon anymore.”

“That’s true, we don’t,” Arcane Hex nods. His horn flashes, and something akin to a smoky tentacle darts out of the mirror, tasting the air, “But we have a void rift crafted by the original Umbrum. We just need to lure Celestia here by causing trouble no one else will be able to stop.”

“Mind being a bit more concrete?”

“We use this to open a major void rift in the Crystal Empire, and let the shadows devour everything. Sooner or later, divinity will be the only way to close it, and Celestia will have to come. Then we use the mirror to orchestrate the most powerful draining spell the world has ever seen, and suck her dry.”

“And kill her,” Star Trail just wants to be sure.

“She’ll either turn into a mortal pony with no powers, or she’ll die outright.”

“And what’s going to stop the shadows already here? What’s going to stop Luna from becoming the sole ruler of my Equestria?”

“Who cares?” Hex shrugs, “I will be immortal by then, and thus able to properly research the nature of existence. Why should I care if fodder dies? All we need to do is make sure the shadows don’t devour the whole world and reality, that would be counterproductive to my work.”

“I see...” Star Trail sighs, “No golden goddess protecting ponykind, maybe no ponykind at all. No Equestria, the shining beacon of hope. Nothing but wars and struggle all over again. Only death and destruction.”

“You’re being melodramatic. Life will stabilize. Kingdoms and rulers are temporary anyway. Knowledge is the only worthwhile goal of existence. And who knows? Maybe the new world will be without those changelings you hate so much. They run on energy, and void creatures will go after those first.”

“No...” hisses Star Trail.

“I’m sorry, what?” Arcane Hex turns towards the ex-paladin standing next to him.

In a flash of light, the lich feels himself awash with a bout of weakness, and when the light subsides, Star Trail is holding his phylactery - the necklace.

“I am a paladin of Equestria,” Star Trail growls, “the best and brightest place on the face of Equus. I swore to defend my land and its protecting goddess,” lightning crackles through the necklace, and the gold starts melting, “When I joined you, you promised me we would get rid of threats to Equestria. But this… this is betrayal of the country that gave you everything, you psychopathic ingrate!”

Arcane Hex’ horn flashes, but whatever the spell was supposed to be, it fizzles in the pulsing light of Star Trail’s horn.

“Don’t even try it, monster,” Star Trail punches the lich, making him stumble backwards, “Alicorn amulet didn’t control or corrupt me, and neither have you at any point. How many paladins have you fought? I’m certain it’s zero, but how many liches and other undead do you think I destroyed?”

An arc of energy surges from Star Trail’s horn to the necklace, making the gem shatter and the gold melt and pool on the stone floor.

“You… you...” Arcane Hex stumbles towards the mirror.

“I was wrong, and Bright Star was right. Not all along, that easily trusting fool, but in the end, and that’s what matters. The most dangerous monsters threatening my princess and my country weren’t the changelings. They were you,” a blast of gold light shatters Arcane Hex ribcage and part of his skull, “and me.”

He rears for another spell, but just as he casts it, Arcane Hex pulls the mirror in front of himself. The bolt of light partially melts the ornate frame, but most of the energy drains into the pitch black surface of the ‘glass’.

Star Trail teleports behind Arcane Hex, the glow of his telekinesis envelops the lich’s head, and he rips it off of the rest of the body.

“Your body, your soul,” Star Trail looks into the eyes of the hovering skull, “Neither wil return to this world ever again.”

With one final wave of golden light of the banishment spell, Star Trail erases Arcane Hex from existence.

The undead unicorn hangs his head low, but looks up quickly as he hears the mirror on the floor rattle.

Again… and again…

***

“This is the fifth train in less than an hour going the other way,” I furrow my brows, looking out of the window, “Is it just me, or is that weird? Don’t look at me like that, it’s a valid question. I’ve been on a train only twice in my life.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything, it is unusual,” replies Cromach, pushing past Astray to the coupe window. He gasps as he looks into the distance, “It’s gone. The protective barrier around Crystal Empire is gone.”

“Could it be just… maintenance or something?” I ask, receiving another set of glances the first idea of which is that I might or might not be brain damaged.

“No, your Majesty,” Astray answers my question, “The barrier never goes out. I spent a lot of time in the Crystal Empire, and the barrier has gone out only when faced with the darkest threats that could break through. It’s powered directly by the Crystal Heart itself.”

I focus on the beating of the Crystal Heart, the pulses of love supposedly affecting all of Equestria. It turns out to be of no use, because Three’s loving glow is too strong to sense anything else.

“So, no chance of this being a benign occurence...” I sigh.

“There’s always a chance,” Cromach smirks, “It’s just not going to be one. Better get your hooves ready for anything.”

“Sir-” Astray reaches for his pistol.

“I know, you had no time to rearm properly. You’ll be a second set of eyes more than anything,” Cromach nods.

“Yes, sir.”

Silence falls on our overcrowded coupe for the next twenty minutes that it takes until we stop at the Crystal Empire train station.

It’s full. I’m not being metaphorical. All platforms are packed to the brim with ponies and yelling Crystal Guards trying to control the situation.

The intercom crackles, and the voice of the train announcer says:

[Dear passengers. We’ve just received information that the Crystal Empire is not safe at the moment. The nature of the problem is still a mystery, but the Crystal Guards don’t recommend getting off. By their orders, in the next ten to fifteen minutes, we will be taking in as many passengers as we can, returning to the last stop on the way here, and helping evacuate whoever we can.]

“Oookay, that’s all I needed to hear,” Cromach grabs the backpack he packed for the trip, and rushes out of the coupe, “Move!” we hear his voice.

While we get outside and push through the crowds towards the exit of the train station, I see Cromach grab a Crystal Guard and shake him.

“What’s going on? What happened to the shield?”

“Please, sir, remain calm. We ask all civilians to-”

Cromach slaps him.

“Ambassador Cromach, special task force for fighting against dark forces. Report, now!”

Whether it’s Cromach’s demeanor, his company, or just the crystal pony’s desire to get rid of the griffon, it makes him reply:

“Something is happening in the castle plaza, and there are these strange shadow creatures everywhere around the city. We’re holding the train station and gradually evacuating the Crystal Empire to near villages. Princess Cadance is in the ticket office, tending to the wounded. Prince Shining Armor is organizing the rescue efforts,” he points towards the big building in the center of the vast station.

“Thanks,” Cromach nods and yells over the panicked cacophony of noise filling the station, “Crystal Heart plaza it is then. Astray, I need Bubbles with me, but you can stay here and assist Shining Armor.”

“No can do, sir,” Astray smirks back, “We both need Bubbles now, so where she goes, I go.”

Cromach frowns.

“You’re right. You, Anvil, and Bubbles will stay here,” he raises his voice when he sees three mouths open, “That’s an order. You know how I hate using those, so take this one seriously.”

The three salute.

“Gem, I want you to stay here,” I contact her via a hive link. It’s way better than yelling.

“Dad?” she asks, confused.

“We don’t know what’s going on. You’re not a fighter. Find Cadance and help her with the wounded. Take Eleven. He’s barely used to his new mode of self-control, much less so if he has to fight a swarm of shadows.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Cryo?”

“Ready and trying not to stomp on the crystal beards!” she answers slowly with some concentration.

“Your changelings will stay here with Gem.”

“What the beard?! They are strong. We fight for you, we live for you, we die for you. Anything less than that is us not giving our all.”

“And I’m tasking them with protecting my daughter. She needs a wall of chitin around her.”

“I am strong too.”

“And you’re coming with me.”

“I understand.”

Did I ever say that I really like Cryo in tight situations? On some level, she knows perfectly when there isn’t the time to argue. Proper warrior changelings are gold. Without a word, her four changelings push through towards Gem and surround her. I didn’t mean the wall of chitin literally, but there will be time to explain things later.

We finally get to the closed wrought iron gate of the train station held by Crystal Guard unicorns occasionally firing a bolt of magic into the street.

“Let us out!” orders Cromach.

The crystal unicorn leading the gate group faces him, and says:

“No can do, hot shot, because then I’d have to risk my ponies trying to bring you back here when you realize how unsafe it is out there.”

Cromach’s beak drops open. Seeing her boss redden and prepare himself to launch into a speech and possibly the unicorn into the sun, Anvil pushes through and waves a silver badge in front of the guard’s face.

“Order of the Silver Sun, captain. We’re here to stop all this.”

Not even the minotaur is enough enough to persuade the unicorn, but he seems to recognize the Silver Sun badge, and lets us out through a small reinforced door a short way off of the main gate. Anvil quickly turns around and heads through the crowd. Being over twice the size of everyone around that’s not Cryo makes it easy.

“Good luck,” he says through a small slot, “As far as our patrols are reporting, the outskirts of the city are mostly safe, but the closer you get to the castle, the more shadows there are. They aren’t particularly dangerous to someone prepared, but there are a lot of them.”

“Thank you for the information,” says Two politely as we exit into the mostly empty street.

In the distance, I see several guards leading a group of ponies towards the station. Our goal lies elsewhere, though, namely exactly the opposite way. It seems the guards have finished evacuating the center of the Empire and are now focusing on the safer outskirts.

Over the next hour and a half, I, Cromach, Two, Cryo, and Three riding on me make our way the crystalline streets and the ever-increasing amount of shadows. I don’t know if it’s a testament to our power, skills, and cooperation, but with the energy restoration caused by Three as well as the weak beating of the Crystal Heart now within reach, we progress through the long avenue unharmed and fresh despite enemies thrown our way. The only strange thing to note is that the closer to the castle plaza we are, the less the shadows resemble those snakelike clawed things, rather taking shape of ponies, minotaurs, and griffons. Why? I have no idea. What is much more worrying is that something is wrong with my hive links. I can’t connect to Gem or Eleven anymore at all, and I sense interference even when touching Three, Two, or Cryo. I have never felt anything like that.

However, with the tip of the crystal spire in view, some weak presence touches my mind.

“Boss, boss?! Thank holes you’re here.”

“Hundred and four?” I toss Three at Cryo who takes on the task of crushing the consistent flow of shadows from the back while Cromach and Two are in the front, “What are you doing here? And where are you? I can’t sense anything properly.”

“Just a second-” replies the infiltrator.

The door of the nearby house gets kicked open, letting out a solitary changeling followed by a group of five dwarf guards wearing covered hoods in addition to the flamethrowers and black platemails.

Cromach hacks the nearest minotaur shadow in half with one swing, and readies his axe as the dwarves pour out followed by about twenty crystal ponies.

“What’s going on?” ask Cromach.

“They’re ours, they’re ours,” I say quickly.

“And now you explain to me what’s going on. Why are the dwarves here?” I press One-Four, slowing down the hive link time.

“The council said - better public than eaten. We’re pretending to be earthponies with some griffon tech, boss,” the warrior replies, “We’re helping evacuate the citizens via the underground tunnels. There are four groups around, led by One-One through me. Those shadows really don’t like flamethrowers or bullets, it’s just about figuring out which is which.”

“Good job,” I say, “Keep doing that. We’re on the way to the source.”

“Will do, boss. Need any help?”

“Nothing. By the way, do you know anything about One?”

“No, boss. She was in the hive few days ago, and then everything went to hole after Five came back.”

I just sigh. Then an idea comes to mind.

“Did Five share what happened? I can’t do any mental stuff for some reason.”

“Yeah, there’s something weird in the air. I can’t contact anyone from here. I couldn’t even sense you until few moments ago. As for Five, she didn’t share any details, but she, One, Seven, and three weirdos left the hive to see where the shadows were coming from. They fought some mage, and only Five came back, saying Seven and One sent for Six and were supposed to stay here in the Crystal Empire while she organized help because shadows were sprouting everywhere.”

“So, Six is at the train station, Five is in charge of the hive, Seven and One are holes know where, right?”

“As far as I know, correct,” One-Four nods.

Well, if One isn’t at the center of this mess, I’ll be shocked.

“Then keep evacuating the city. I’m going to the Crystal Castle. It seems the trouble is coming from there.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

The whole conversation in reality took only a brief glance between two changelings, so One-Four doesn’t miss a beat as he leads the squad of dwarves and civilians through the street recently cleared out by us while we advance through the shadows approaching from the front.

Soon, the long avenue crossing the whole Crystal Empire finally opens into the Crystal Heart plaza swarming with shadows packed so tightly it brings back stomach-turning memories of Twisted crawling through the underground tunnels. The Crystal Heart is still beating, I can feel it, but the air feels strangely still, and there’s a huge shadow of something black in the sky obscured by the crystal spire. The part of the castle visible from here seems to have crumbled as if hit by a meteor.

“-”

Cromach opens his beak, but nothing comes out. He looks at me, and tries again. Nothing. I open my mouth too, and I can feel myself speaking, but I’m silent. Come to think of it, there is no sound at all.

“Two?”

“I have a theory and I wish someone told me I’m an idiot, because if I’m correct then I’m about to goop myself, dad!”

Okay, so hive links still work, although it’s a strain. I tap Cromach’s shoulder after he cleaves three shadows with one wide swing, then my mouth, shake my head, and then repeatedly point from my horn to Two’s while nodding. He scratches his head, and evenutually nods as well when he gets the idea.

Cryo isn’t even trying to talk. She’s completely busy stomping and kicking shadows swarming around us, and fairly successfully thinning their numbers. I point towards the crystal spire. Through the shadows, I see something blurring that contrasts with the sea of black shapes.

“Out with it, Two!”

“Well, those shadow things absorb energy, right? And noise is just kinetic energy passing through the air, same with love, and maybe with our communication too. That’s why it’s all quiet and the Crystal Heart muted. And… that huge black shit in the back… I think it could be a void rift.”

Oh holes… she’s right.

“Let’s get to the Crystal Heart and see what’s going on.”

Strangeness and shadows aside, it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before. Overwhelming amount of unintelligent and feral enemies doesn’t mean much to regenerating stamina and incomparable speed and power. The shadows are stronger than before, but it’s still nothing compared to us.

Finally, we fight our way to the shimmer at the base of the Crystal Heart spire, the area underneath which is perfectly clear from any shadows. In fact, whenever one of the hundreds constantly trying to get closer reaches forward, it explodes.

The ‘protective circle’ isn’t magic. It’s One, moving around faster than even my eyes can see, obliterating the shadows with her hooves. She and Seven sitting next to the Crystal Heart are the two huge drains on all the love from the crystal responsible for the power being barely possible to sense anywhere else. Seven’s attention, though, is elsewhere, namely on beams of energy he’s aiming past the black and white unicorn standing at the edge of the spire nearest to the castle.

I pull at Cromach as he hesitates to enter what for him must be area protected by some invisible barrier of magic, and One lets us all into the circle. Contradiction doesn’t react either. It’s just Seven.

“Glad to see you’re back, boss,” he says, voice exhausted despite the Crystal Heart right next to him, “Now please tell me you’ve got a miracle in your leg hole.”

“What kind of mira-” I walk closer to Contradiction, and look up at the partially ruined castle.

My jaw drops.

A massive tear in reality is cleaving the sky above the castle and presumably its lower half is obscured by the ruins. Unlike all the small cracks encountered before, this one is open like a vertical eye, with half of an enormous torso sticking out, and two gargantuan arms ending in round boulders. The torso looks like a ribcage spread open with a swirling, dark purple mass in its center. Above all that is a head covered in comparatively small tentacles, each easily as long as a street lamp.

The arms are busy trying to crush the crystal spire. Their progress, however, is always stopped by see-through tentacles the color of sea water fighting back against the humongous monstrosity. Occasionally, the gigantic shadow rears back as beams of energy cast by Seven close a microscopic part of the rift like threads filling a hole. It never lasts long, as the shadow pushes ahead, ripping reality apart elsewhere. Seven is losing the battle, and the best that can be said is that he’s losing slowly.

“What the hole can we even do?” I whisper, unheard by anyone.

Two and Cromach are staring as well. Cryo is simply sitting on the floor, waiting. She knows that thinking isn’t her job, and that One has the security covered for now.

Three lands on my back.

“That’s a biiiiig baddie...” he comments, “I wonder how hard I’d have to hug it to make it like us.”

“That thing is a bit out of your league, I feel,” I reply absent-mindedly.

Although… I mean… Three is my little cheat code.

“Must... try… hugging...”

I grab Three and throw him at the Crystal Heart. Hug that.

“Hug your heart out.”

He latches onto the crystal, and both start vibrating.

To be completely honest, I wasn’t expecting that. I just wanted to keep him occupied in case he really wanted to hug that monstrosity in the sky.

Green, almost solid flame engulfs them both, and all of a sudden our sphere of safety expands. One is just green light and energy, erasing shadows from existence while Seven’s occasional beams transform into one continuous stream of green power stitching the rift closed at vastly faster rate.

“Power of the throne, ready!” I hear a new voice inside my head, and look backwards at-

Can I say holy holes enough times?

-Five leading rank after rank of Silversmith mechs, all aiming their energy weapons at the rift and firing at once.

The ‘hands’ of the black colossus in the sky stop fighting Contradiction’s telekinetic and divine tentacles, focusing instead on widening the rift against Seven’s relentless stitching. With the situation around calming down a little, I put my forehead to Seven’s so that I can avoid the energy draining interference, and start reading his mind as to how he’s sealing the rift. It turns out to be simple, as it literally consists just of beaming power to the right places, namely to the edges of the rift which aren’t as stable as its center. Seven might be better than me at it, but I am a much more powerful battery, and thus able to channel the energy of the Crystal Heart coupled with Three now being slowly released by One gradually slowing down.

Shortly after, there’s only the colossus recoiling at the assault and us. Shadows are gone, and so are the previous minor rifts spawning them.

However, it seems that not focusing on opening the small rifts allows the colossus to fight more effectively against our attempts at closing the big one. It’s working, but slowly.

Contradiction’s tentacles rear backwards, and merge into one. Like a glacier, it swings forward, directly into the pulsating… blob in the center of the colossus’ spread ribcage thing. The usual ‘hit the big, glowing spot’ strategy.

Sheer titanic force pushes the enemy through the rift, which Seven and I use to begin closing from both sides at once.

Almost…

A minute or two is all we need.

The rift is only as wide as one of the crystal castle turrets when tentacles shoot out like grappling hooks, and wrap around the spire above us. I can’t hear the glass and crystalline masonry crack. One notices, though, and the sensation of wrong from her makes me look up as webs of fractures spread through the spire.

She grabs Seven and me in one motion, running away with us slung over her back. Cryo does the same to surprised Cromach and runs. Last, Two pounces, snatching Three who lets the Crystal Heart go from shock. Contradiction just uses one tentacle to throw herself away from the crumbling structure.

We all get out in the open as the crystal spire crumbles behind us, leaving a cloud of shards scattered around by a shockwave that scatters us around the southern quarter of the plaza. The shards settle, and from the northern part I can still see red beams firing up into the sky where the colossus is reopening the rift at speed.

What’s worse, there is no multiplicatively amplified Crystal Heart energy feeding us anymore, there’s just Three himself still held against Two’s chest.

“Cryo, rubble, Crystal Heart!” I mentally call out, and feel tremors as the stomping ancient queen runs off towards the ruins. The base of the spire survived along with its four legs, but it’s still covered in the crumbled remains of everything else.

With the rift already open to its previous size, the void colossus resumes pushing itself into our reality.

Cromach pats Connie’s head, rears on his hind legs while spreading his wings for balance, and points both forelegs against the hole. Green lightning arcs from his talons to the edges of the rift, and as he pushes his forelegs together, the edges begin squeezing the colossus again. Seven stumbles back on all fours, and sends a weak beam towards the rift which disappears even before reaching it. Without the Crystal Heart, he’s just too weak.

All of a sudden, I feel a burst of frost behind me, and I immediately lunge forward just in time to avoid…

...a shadow version of One, or a shadow copying her shape.

Real One immediately attacks it from the back, but it takes the blow, and even swings its hoof back at her. A quick recap reveals that three of these appeared out of nowhere, one currently having chunks of rubble thrown at it to very little effect by digging Cryo, and one quickly approaching me.

“Hold the big guys off. Cromach seems to be slowing it down again… somehow,” I order. I’m not about to speculate to what degree Cromach is able to use his own divinity.

“We need energy!” I hear One inside my head and know it’s a broadcast, “The kinetic energy from the blows isn’t enough to fill and destroy these.”

“CRYSTAL BEARD!” Cryo exclaims, pulling out the Crystal Heart dropped by Three. It’s weak. The crystal spire must have been acting as an amplifier itself. Without it, the Heart is nowhere near as powerful.

“Keep it to fight those big shadows off!” I order and point at One, “Three, power her. She’s way more effective than me, and I still have reserves.”

As I avoid the wild swing of the shadow attacking me, I realize it might be much less than I thought. Those damn things don’t even need to hit to drain energy. Better to just keep it occupied until One and Cryo can deal with their targets.

Damn, that means Two can’t even get close.

“Two, go help Seven! He’s at the end of his rope.”

Without a word, she spins around and stops running towards me.

I need to draw that damn thing away from them too just in case. I need to be a tasty target. A burning love chair that I summon hits shadow One, making her recoil. In the next moment, she lunges at me, which I deftly avoid and move a bit further away. They really aren’t fast, but they don’t need to be. If we weren’t all changelings or crazy divine creatures, a touch of these would be lethal, and their simple presence would eventually do the same.

The windigos.

It’s Seven’s memory, or maybe that of the thing inside his head. Creatures sapping all energy including heat, immune to kinetic damage, and eventually banished by love, by something we’re running out of.

I back away again, and stumble as I lose feeling in my left hind leg.

I’m… out? What? Did I completely misjudge my reserves?

Not entirely, but I’m running out quickly. A quick look around shows that I did manage to lead the shadow away, but since Cryo and One haven’t destroyed their opponents yet, it also means I’m too far away from any help.

Damn it… that’s why I ran out so soon. I moved much closer to the castle and the big rift.

It’s freezing…

I can’t even feel anyone’s links even though I can see them.

Shadow One rears in front of me, and this time I know I will have to block the blow...

...and I know that it will knock me out, drain me completely.

Crap.

Despite the knowledge, I punch against the approaching foreleg.

Golden glow flashes through me, and I feel the impact. What I don’t feel is energy leaving me. I back off, tired but not progressively weaker with each instant.

Some kind of magic?

Two, Seven, and Contradiction are busy sealing the rift and fighting the colossus in the sky each, so…

Experimentally, I block another blow, and punch the shadow’s head, making it back off.

Yep, I can definitely fight it. But why? It’s not energy replenishment, it’s just…

Having a moment of time as the shadow stumbles, I look around for the source of this strange magic, and eventually my eyes fall on the ruined castle and a solitary unicorn figure limping towards me, its horn glowing golden.

Out of all the surprises today…

Out of all the improbable nonsense we could have encountered here…

Out of everything the world could have thrown at us…

Nothing could have prepared me for this. Though Bright Star did say that paladins were experts on negative energy protections, because undead mages often use those lifeforce-sapping spells, but that he wasn’t able to teach it to Ten in time.

That determined expression, that pure hatred, that bloodthirsty grin, and none of it, for the first time, is aimed at me.

With a nod, Star Trail points at the shadow about to get its ass oblitera-chaired.

Baddies are now goodies.

Holes damn it, Three. You were right all along.

14: The End

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Star Trail fires a bolt of energy which misses me by a hair, and hits the shadow using my moment of distraction to attack. It’s that, more than the ripped sky, shattered crystal spire, or the broken castle which draws me back to reality. If even Star Trail considers this such a threat that he’s actively helping, then we need to end this.

Two short love blades grow from my forelegs as I duck from under shadow One’s swing, and slash upwards. A burning emerald scar appears on the shadow’s surface. More than the visible effect, the fact that the shadow backs away to avoid another attack is the clear sign that my attacks are working.

Without the energy drain, the unfairness of the fight switches completely, and I’m slowly but surely pushing the faliling creature back. Few moments later, a golden blast evaporates the upper half of the shadow, and Star Trail passes by in his slow limp, giving me only a short glance accompanied with a frown.

I have so many questions, and yet I can’t ask any, because the sound isn’t working. On the other hole, there is only one answer, which is that One and Cryo still need help, so I run to them.

I jump at One’s shadow from behind, only because she’s closer than Cryo, and punch it’s skull in. Coupled with the damage One has already caused, the shadow falls on the ground and starts melting.

“NO, DON’T TOUCH IT!” One’s mental scream finally reaches my mind and turns into a confused, “Uhh what?”

I point behind me with the message-

“Don’t kill him immediately, he’s helping.”

-and run to Cryo.

“What the actual fu- oh screw diplomacy! Why the actual fuck is STAR TRAIL helping us? I ripped his heart out few days ago.”

“That’s the first thing I’m going to ask after we get rid of the thing above us… somehow,” I reply, slashing at One’s shadow fighting Cryo.

As One joins the fight, I begin feeling a third Crystal Heart nearby. One is the real thing in Cryo’s mouth, obviously. One is Three hanging on for dear life on One’s back. And the final one…

Walking in front of a rank of unicorns led by Shining Armor, a line of Elevens, Cryo’s new spawn, and Six riding on Gem’s back, is princess Cadance, glowing pink to my eyes.

Cryo stomps the final shadow against the street, leaving a small crater of shattered crystal, and spits out the real Crystal Heart at me.

I smirk, give the crystal to Three, and point at Cadance.

“There’s an amplifier we can use.”

Three buzzes over to the approaching princess as Contradiction’s tentacles fight the massive creature. How she still isn’t dead of exhaustion I will never know, but I suspect pure desperation. Even we changelings are at the end of our rope in this situation, but she’s still fighting against a force that would crush all of us at once.

The unicorns behind Cadance point their horns at Three, but Cadance’s pink telekinetic grip helps him land on her back, making them three into a totem of pure love.

Three’s eyes flash, and love of proportions never seen before flares up around us. Ponies probably can’t feel it, but for all of us it’s… it’s… I can’t describe it.

Then I hear Contradiction scream, and feel the shockwave as her horn explodes from the raw power and she flies away, unconscious or dead even before she hits the ground. The tentacles disappear instantly, and the shaped darkness of the colossus lunges forward, reaching its blunt arm towards us as its spread ribs grab the edges of the rift, and push.

The colossus aims its eyeless stare on the only remaining threat - Cromach.

The griffon is straining, green lightning constantly coursing from his forelegs to the rift obviously being the only remaining obstacle between the colossus and our reality. Two and Seven might be helping a tiny bit, but their interference is only adding seconds to our time.

There’s movement behind Cromach as the pink aura emanating from Cadance, Three, and the Crystal Heart reaches him. I’m not sure if anyone else can see it, but the pink mist forms a shape that could be an alicorn if I squint enough, and it wraps one wing around Cromach’s back.

Funny, I never thought I could read lips, much less a beak and from behind, but for a moment I’m absolutely certain that Cromach said:

“I will wait no matter how long it takes. There is no force in the universe that will stop me.”

And at least at this point in time, I will help.

Drawing on the love aura everywhere around, I let out a beam of crackling power straight into the rift. It blasts the colossus, making it reel backwards. And as seconds pass, I can see more and more beams from all around converging towards the rift. Pink from Cadance, blue from Shining Armor, gold from Star Trail, a battery of red lasers from the north with one added green beam from Five. Who doesn’t know how to help by closing the rift itself is just adding raw energy to push the colossus further away.

And finally, one little stubby horn lights up too. Three’s horn lets out a green shockwave of pure love which blinds us all. And when the brilliant light fades…

...the sky is clear, the colossus is gone, and I can finally feel gentle breeze against my chitin again.

“We won,” I whisper, and laugh as I realize I can hear myself, “It’s over.”

“AAAAH!” I hear Two scream, “WHAT IS THIS?! WHY AM I LIKE THIS? AAAAAAH!”

“EVERYONE LOOKS AWESOME NOW!” Three yells inside the hive mind with unrestrained joy.

Even as the love aura slowly withdraws, the crystal guards are glowing as if made of stained glass, pink light is swirling around Cadance like a see-through gown, and changelings…

I look at my hooves, which are now mossy green, and shake my head with some added weight. Antlers, really? Give me a good simple horn any day over these.

“No amount of blood on my hooves can make this look cool,” comments One, “I was hoping we stopped this last time.”

...we are all in shades of green, from lime to mossy dark. All but Cryo, who is bright blue.

“AAAAH, MY EYES HURT FROM LOOKING AT MY OWN REFLECTION!” screams the queen currently running backwards in an attempt to possible escape her own body, “UNBEARD ME NOW!”

I wonder if… yep, Cryo’s changelings as well as Eleven’s main body are blue too.

Last but not least, Three is golden and watching everything around with the amazed expression of someone whose all dreams came true at once.

“Boss, I’m looking as if Three chewed me up and then spat me out,” I hear Five, “Please tell me I’m not the only one.”

“Nope,” is all I can say.

“Then I’m heading home with the mechs. Last thing we need is for ponies to see us in full force.”

“Where did you get those anyway? Did dwarves discover some intact cache while I was gone?”

“Not exactly,” Five chuckles, “I’ll explain everything when we’re home and safe.”

“We might have some celebrating ahead of us. I wish you’d stay here with us.”

“Boss, you know I’m the shadow that works for the good of the hive. I don’t need praise, and I do what’s necessary.”

“You’re an amazing changeling, Five. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“I know. I’ll shoot anyone who says that.”

Unicorn medics rush past me towards Contradiction with Cromach leaning over her.

There’s only one thing left before we head home.

Nevermind, two things, but I’m trying to avoid the big one.

With a moment of focus, I shapeshift back into what a real changeling should look like. All my lings do the same, and after some help from Two even Cryo returns to her preferred form. Only Three remains all gold as he hops off of Cadance’s back, puts the Crystal Heart on the ground, and runs to me.

“I liked it more when you were all sparkly. Now it’s just me...”

For once, I know exactly what to say.

“No cupholders, Three.”

He freezes mid bounce, his eyes go wide as he looks at his forelegs with the sudden expression of utter heresy happening, and then quickly transforms into his old self.

“This is going to need some fine tuning,” he mumbles, his tone making me sure that we haven’t seen the last of gold Three.

As my changelings gather around, there’s the final thing to deal with, and here’s where I have no idea how to even start.

Star Trail is sitting on a piece of non-shattered crystal floor, his face completely expressionless, simply content with breathing.

One, baring her fangs, approaches first, and cracks her neck. If I don’t stop her, she’ll kill him.

I realize that I don’t want to stop her. This needs to end.

Before One can stomp Star Trail into paste, she looks down at Three who runs between her legs, stops in front of the undead ex-paladin…

...and hugs him.

Star Trail leans back a little as the small legs wrap around his barrel, but otherwise doesn’t move.

“Thank you for saving the boss from the baddies,” mumbles Three.

“I killed you...” he says, clearly stumped more than all of us put together.

“And now I’m even better than before. I glow!” replies Three as if it was a perfectly acceptable answer. In his head, it probably is.

Star Trail closes his eyes. After a while he shakes his head, and pushes Three away. Not forcefully, at least.

He looks up at me.

“I destroyed Arcane Hex for good, but there is only one way this can end completely. Finish this. I can’t come back anymore.”

My thoughs slip to Gem, and to the life she had to end. I surprise myself when I say:

“You aren’t dead yet. You can help fix what you caused.”

Star Trail chuckles.

“No, changeling, I want to finally see Puff again. That’s all. If you have more mercy than I would ever show to you or your kind, end this.”

“Come on!” Three waves his foreleg to get Star Trail’s attention, “Miss Fury told us Puff’s story, and I’m sure that he wouldn’t want to see you like-”

Star Trail pats Three’s head.

“Most of all, Puff wouldn’t want to see me like this in the first place. Besides,” he taps his chest, “this is the only thing I regret. Turning into an undead and threatening my princess and my country,” he pauses, “No, this and hurting you. I’m sorry, little guy, I mean it. You and you alone deserve my apology.”

I look at Cromach who joins us after Crystal Guard medics have put Contradiction on a stretcher and carried her off.

“Don’t look at me. My job was Arcane Hex, this choice is only yours. Of course, if zombie McEvil here isn’t lying.”

In my head, I hear One who can’t keep quiet anymore.

“Even if you spare him, his change of heart might be temporary and he can turn back if you refuse his request. Kill him, and you’ll show kindness to a broken pony as well as protect your hive.”

From my last experience fighting him, I know how these crafted undead bodies work.

“Any last words?” I ask as green flame erupts from my hoof.

“Tell Bright Star he was right in the end.”

I nod and stab him, shattering the power crystal in place of his heart. Not even Gem complains this time.

“...thank… y...” he whispers and dies for the final time.

***

Nights are never silent in Manehattan, and this one is no different, not even inside the Silver Sun headquarters.

Flying by window after window while invisible, I finally find one through which I can see a white griffon sleeping with his head on the desk. Shifting my hoof to claws for better manipulation, I open the window and silently fly inside. Cromach doesn’t even twitch as I approach.

I lean over him, open my mouth, and prepare to bite him.

Presumably, at this point, One, Comfort, Two, and Gem are doing the same to Astray, Anvil, Bubbles, and Contradiction all over the mansion.

Our goal isn’t to harm anyone, but we need to protect Brauheim. All we want is to erase their memories of the city, dwarves, and any technology they saw including any questions they might have about the squad of mechs Five brought to stop the shadow colossus.

Before I close my mouth around Cromach’s neck, I find something wedged in it, keeping it open.

It’s a pen.

A pen previously held in Cromach’s talons.

The griffon is looking at me, smirking, and flicks my nose. How fast is he?

“Beardy, beardy, beardy...” I don’t see him move, but in an instant filled with green lightning he’s standing on the other side of the desk, “Let me guess. Trying to erase any evidence of the living Silversmith presence in the north before my guys could write anything down or analyze what they saw. Now, I assume Connie, Astray, and Bubbles are the targets, and maybe Anvil for good measure since she was part of the team even if she never saw your little city.”

He’s got me against the wall, so I stay silent.

“Now, I think I know you well enough, so you can’t have known that you have picked the least protected target in this mansion.”

I immediately try to mentally contact the others, and don’t get any answer. I can feel their hive links, and there’s no threat coming from anyone as if everything was going according to plan.

“Knock knock...” I hear an unknown voice inside my head.

“Who’s there?” is the best answer I can muster.

Quiet laughter inside my head accompanied by real knocking on the door are my answer.

A white unicorn mare with purple mane enters, leading Comfort by a set of burning chains connecting her legs to the mare’s horn.

Next is Gem walking in, thankfully unharmed, followed by an older, brownish-black griffon who slaps her butt and sticks his tongue out as she looks backwards and just sighs. No, it’s a changeling transformed into a griffon.

Two follows, eyes blankly staring ahead as if someone else was controlling her. Speaking of whom…

...a changeling queen with amethyst eyes, mane, and secondary plating smirks at me.

“I believe this little scoundrel is yours,” her voice resonates through my head.

Infiltrator queen. Damn. That’s why my mind is an open book to her.

Shadowstep, the loyalist. The faint echoes of ancient memories in my head identify the queen. One of the same group of Chrysalis’ generals as Cryo is from.

Finally, One enters, head hung low, and I grit my teeth. Her chitin is cracked and scarred. She’s missing a tooth, and her right eye is bloodshot.

“Even you, One?” I mentally facehoof.

“I’m not seeing you doing better...” she grumbles, “And be careful, because that guy behind me could wipe the floor with us all at once. I’m not kidding.”

What enteres behind One is not a changeling. He’s something pretending to be a changeling. The fact that on the surface he looks like an overgrown batpony doesn’t mean anything to me.

“Did you have to be so rough with miss One here, Cross?” Cromach snickers.

“I overestimated her a little after her first show of force. My mistake,” says the ‘batpony’ calmly.

He… overestimated... One? What’s going on here?

“So, Beardy,” Cromach turns towards me. That bastard knows that I’m not going to run and leave my changelings here, “I believe we were talking about a Silversmith city.”

I scowl. To my growing irritation, his grin only grows.

“We will protect those who gave us sanctuary when we needed. Chrysalis thinks that no matter what happened, she’s our queen. She’s wrong. However, no matter what happened, I am the king of the dwarves, and they want to remain secret.”

“Unfortunately for you, it’s not in your power to make me forget these ‘dwarves’, and I certainly don’t intend to. The others beyond the Silver Sun… don’t need to know,” Cromach sits down on top of his desk. I growl at him, and his expression finally turns serious, “You have surrounded yourself with the best, many of whom have grown under your command beyond even their wildest dreams. The problem for you is that I was much luckier in doing the same, so I’m going to presume you are smart enough not to try doing anything like this again.”

I’ll believe that only after a lobotomy.

“So what now, Cromach?” I ask. He wouldn’t be like this if he didn’t want anything.

To my surprise, he sighs, and gives me a look that makes him seem centuries older than his early thirties.

“I am going to use you, king beard. You are going to provide me with working Silversmith technology, and in turn I will share our knowledge about divinity. Maybe I might even allow your One to practice with Cross here on occasion. She could use a real opponent. Now, the technology you will provide me with will be used solely for Silver Sun, and maybe fragments of it to trade for new inventions of the griffon Black Ops.”

“And what if I say no? How can you trust me?” I ask.

“There is something about you I really like. You are a good pony. Even what you did tonight was out of duty to your tiny friends. What my order, and be sure it is an order and not a request… what my order is that you take on a little bigger mantle of not protecting just one small underground city, but the whole world.”

“What do you mean?”

“That you know next to nothing about the darkest threats to this reality, and me simply talking about them wouldn’t make you truly understand. What we faced in the Crystal Empire was only a drop in the sea. You need to understand for yourself, and once you do, you will never be the same sane changeling. You and the dwarves or Silversmiths or whatever they are will help me protect everything and in turn I will make sure all mentions of them are considered only conspiracy theories. ‘No’ is not an answer. Your duty will be over when I reach my goal,“ he snaps his talons. Two gets released from the amethyst queen’s control, the magic chains binding Comfort disappear, Gem simply looks at me, and One growls, “You are dismissed.”

“Protection isn’t a goal, Cromach, it’s a process. It’s never over, trust me,” I say, “So what is this goal you are talking about?”

He grabs the bronze statuette of an alicorn standing on his deck, and twirls it in his talons.

“Excellent question, beardy.”

Changelings in Silver Sunlight

by Nameless Narrator

1: ROAD TRIP!

2: Some call it a horrifying omen of things to come. Some call it Tuesday.

3: Onwards to TOURISM!

4: Diplo-thingy

5: Obviously, it couldn't last.

6: Dishonored, deceased, and downright deadly.

7: A long night

8: Bug in the sun, bugs against fake Sun, and bug loving real Sun.

9: Wait, it can go to hell even more?

10: Giant step sideways

11-1: Descending into total chaos

11-2: Descending into total chaos

11-3: Descending into total chaos

12-1: No mysteries left

12-2: No mysteries left

12-3: No mysteries left

12-4: No mysteries left

13-1: Shadow over the north

13-2: Shadow over the north

13-3: Shadow over the north

14: The End