The beep-beeping of my alarm slowly roused me from sleep; last night, I had dreamed of having public speaking lessons with Chrysalis. I stood up from my cloud bed just a bit too fast. During the night, I had dropped my false skin before bed, so when I stood, I was almost a foot too tall for the ceiling. I winced, hissing and clutching my four aching crown antennas in pain.

After my forceful reminder to reduce my size, I bathed, dressed in the shimmer suit, and walked into the kitchen. Now, on a normal day, Selene would wake up early enough to lower the moon and get ready for the day while I would make breakfast for my little family, fruit and cereal for Selene and bacon, sausage, and eggs for everyone else.

When the smell of burning food and nervousness assaulted my nose, I knew that the normal routine had been broken. Selene stood next to the stove, fire extinguisher hovering at her side, while staring down her attempt at breakfast. Upon her face lay a shameful expression.

"Let me guess, first attempt at cooking on the stove?"

"Sorry, Daddy. See, I was only trying to make you breakfast," Selene said. "I even set the table."

"Ah well, it's not a problem." With a wave of my hand, I levitated the foam from the extinguisher into the trash. With only a few more bursts of magic from Selene and me, we had the kitchen back in working order. "Now, how about you let me handle the cooking? Can you go wake your sister?"

Selene trotted off while I set to work creating an edible meal. My morning may not have been perfect, but there's nothing absolutely pressing to do, and I don't expect any emergencies. I figured that today would be a good day to get some magic practice in; I was working on basic illusions and wanted to dabble in the cross-discipline art of astral-projection. However, I my musing was interrupted when Selene returned. "She's not there and the bathroom's empty."

I blinked. "Did she not come home last night?" I flicked my attention inwards towards the link. Klika was quiet. Now, there are several flavors of quiet in the hive mind. First is the idle mind, where they have nothing to contribute. The sleeping mind hums with unconscious activity, while the injured mind does nothing at all. Lastly, the dead mind is completely removed from the link.

Klika's quiet was none of the above. It was the quiet of secrecy. It works wonders for keeping the wandering mind away from itself; however, the moment I noticed it, the quiet metaphorically shouted 'I have a secret that I won't tell,' then stuck out its tongue, metaphorically.

Curiosity peaked, I started snooping around the eerily quiet portions of the link. Over the course of a few minutes, I realized that over half of my hive was currently sitting within this quiet zone, Klika's half. Chatter among these changelings was almost non-existent; by their own efforts to hide, they had drawn attention to themselves.

Feigning ignorance, I searched out my head Silencer. <<Ginny Skinner, what is the status on our targets?>>

<<The situation is unchanged, with the exception of Catherine, who is in the process of having a mental breakdown,>> she reported. There is one lesson that I learned from Chrysalis that I have not shared with the hive: it is impossible to lie successfully in purely mental communication if your audience knows what to look for. I do.

A fundamental component of willingly lying is the brain must assess what is the "truth" before fabricating a falsity that contradicts the "truth." This creates subconscious patterns in the liar that can be read by the listener.

<<Skinner, I will give you exactly one chance to answer my next question before I enter your mind and find out for myself. Why did you lie?>>

<<Sir, I was ordered by the princess to lie about the situation. I was not ordered to lie about those orders to lie,>> she replied.

I growled. So Klika was behind this? When I ordered Ginny to give me the correct message, she informed me that Stalker was refusing to communicate with her, on Klika's orders, and the remaining dozen members of the anti-changeling movement were starting to worry over Dave's sudden silence. It was not hard to put two and two together.

Mood sufficiently ruined, I discarded subtlety and forced my way into my daughter's memories. What I found horrified me. As calm and cold as ice, I said, <<Klika, Taruke, Slagteri, Come. Home. Now. I will discuss your punishments face to face. If you are not here by noon, I will fetch you myself. You wouldn't want to make me any more upset than I am now by being late, would you?>> At their hasty acknowledgement, I refocused on Ginny. I ordered each of our enemies – including Catherine, though I had extra plans for her – to be subdued when possible and brought to me for conversion.

In my anger, I almost burnt breakfast. Almost.

Klika would swear that she could feel her bones cracking under the strain. Slagteri feared that he would tear a muscle from the intense weight he was feeling. Taruke had already given up trying to support himself and was focusing his entire willpower on keeping fresh air in his lungs. Each one struggled under the massive weight while simultaneously trying to hold onto their minds. I towered over them, crushing them – mind and body – with thought alone; in that moment, I felt so powerful. If I decided to push just a tad harder, I could easily snap their bones and shatter their minds, and they knew it.

Of course, from an outside perspective, I was just standing in front of three changelings, two kneeling and one flat on his face. An onlooker would not see the illusion I was subjecting my changelings too, nor would they feel the internal power dominance between the changelings on the floor and me. The fact that it was all within their heads made my illusion no less painful for Klika, Taruke, and Slagteri, as strong enough muscle contractions can actually snap bone.

Over the course of two minutes, I slowly retracted the pressure until they were only mildly weighed down. "I'm very disappointed in you three," I said. "You subvert my authority, you lied to me, you endanger our hive with your actions, and worst of all, you proved them right. Yes, we are monsters that feed on humans; that is no reason to be the villains they see us as. I may have been lenient before, I may have been a forgiving person before, but not now. If my leniency lets people like you feel that you can get away with whatever you want, then it is time I show you who is boss around here: me.” I spoke as the King, the personification of the hive, not as Rex the normal person.

I turned first to my daughter. I growled, "I did not raise my daughter to be a monster. We are changelings; we should be spreading love, not fear and hatred. What do you have to say for your actions?"

A very quiet "I'm sorry" escaped her lips.

I raised an eyebrow as I stared her down. "For what? And speak up."

Louder this time, Klika said, "I'm sorry for disobeying you and for my cruelty." From my position within her head, I could tell that she genuinely felt apologetic for her actions.

I nodded to her. "I'm glad you feel that way. You are still going to be punished. You will serve two months of heartbreaker without banishment." Klika gasped and cringed. Heartbreaker was the most severe punishment that could be given to a changeling short of being executed or reprogrammed. "You will be stripped of your power and locked into a form of my choice. You will have your connection to the hive mind suppressed and your magic sealed. Klika, instead of banishment, you will be under house arrest until your time is served and will be stripped of your allowance. If you cause any trouble, I will extend your sentence."

As I finished speaking, I twisted Klika's magic, locking her into the form of a six year old girl. Being form-locked hurt the changeling continuously and made it impossible for them to revert to normal under any circumstances; the pain made form-locking an effective punishment for any length of time. I drained her magical energy, sealed it up, and manipulated her connection to isolate her from the rest of the hive.

By the time I was done, she was in tears. I had brought her down to the level of the humans we eat. Klika whimpered, "It's too quiet. Why is my head so empty? I'm scared of being alone..."

Slagteri was the next to face my judgment. “For you, Slagteri, your punishment will be the harshest of the three, as you have committed additional crimes.You will serve six months of full heartbreaker and will be banished. Pack your belongings; I want you out of the Beehive by tomorrow morning. I expect you to call in by next Wednesday.” Like Klika, I twisted Slagteri’s magic until he was effectively human again. Unlike Klika, who had no human face of her own, the face I gave Slagteri was his ‘James,’ the beaten, broken, heroin addicted teen that I had converted to save from a premature death months ago.

When Slagteri saw that he had returned to being James, he snapped. Like a puppet with its strings cut, the teen collapsed to the floor. “I’m going back to hell. I’m going back to hell. I’m going back to hell. I’m going back to hell…”

To the final offender I turned. “Taruke, unfortunately for me, you are too useful to be exiled or to be distracted by the pain of heartbreaker. Your skill with money has brought this hive riches. For you, I will make you my body double. Your own mind will be imprisoned within your body, unable to experience or influence the outside world. In turn, I will animate your body and use your memories to perform your job for you for the next two months.”

“I understand, my great king,” Taruke declared. “I accept your punishment without complaint.”

While pacing back and forth, I addressed all three of them, "If, after your terms are served, I have any more trouble, I will not hesitate to alter your minds. As Taruke acted for the good of the hive, so will I.

“Now, on a side note, I will admit that without a justice system of our own, vigilante justice is all we have to avenge ourselves.” I let out an exhausted sigh. My tone loosened up and my posture relaxed. “But for crying out loud, if you were going to execute someone, all you needed was one bullet to the head. Not… all that, ok?”

Taruke and Klika nodded. Slagteri was too busy chanting his little mantra to reply; I do not think that he even heard me. “Well then,” I said as I helped the three of them up, “Klika, off to your room. Slagteri, you have an apartment to clean out. Taruke…” It was at this point that I closed my eyes and completely slid into his body. Taruke’s personality was pushed to the back of his mind as I took over. I opened both sets of eyes; as of right now, I existed in two places at once.

Thoughts began to stir in my head; I needed to get a grip on the situation. Too many things had surprised me; too many things could have gone better. More thoughts blossomed. I did not have a real plan or goal, I did not have the allies or the political or economic might I would need to control the situations that may arise in the future. Klika’s actions made me realize that, for once, I needed to be a strong leader. No, I needed to be a titan.

I turned my focus towards the link. <<Attention, my changelings. It seems that I have been too relaxed in my duties as your king. For too long, I have sat around content to live and let live. For the first time, we have crime among the members of our hive.>> I passed the memories of the three offender’s crimes to the collective memory. <<But no more! We are changelings; we are not meant to just live, but to thrive! Join with me; help me craft the strongest empire in either world!>>

The mental cheer at my improvised speech was deafening. Maybe, perhaps, being the king of the changelings was not so bad after all.

An establishment like the Livewire Club tended to attract the scum of the earth. Being as exclusive as it is, the patrons of Livewire tend to be very rich, very well connected, or both. Sometimes, such people like to show off by inviting their associates to conduct business in full sight of the club’s debauchery, hence the large, private tables on the balconies that overlook the club floor. If one of those business associates is also a changeling, he or she will find it quite pleasurable to work in an environment of such high lust.

While a tad unpleasant to most humans, the smell of lovemaking was quickly becoming one of my all time favorite scents. Much like how Pavlov’s dogs associated the bell with food, I associated sweat, blood, urine, semen, and fecal matter with the intoxicating flavor of lust, making the otherwise putrid smells pleasing.

I looked out from my perch at the edge of the balcony, observing the scene below. The desire to join the mass orgy was shoved to the back of my mind as the last of my department heads arrived. I turned away and walked to one of my two seats as my other body escorted Ginny Skinner, the head Silencer, to the private room. She sat down next to Anthony Titarenko, who had recently assumed the role as Head Infiltrator after having been given the title by his predecessor. Also around the table sat Jacob ‘Jak’ Daniels, who still held the record for best Love Collector to date, Sally-Anne, head of R&D, and my second body – substituting for Taruke – as head of Finances. Nick had declined to come, explaining that he would rather not be involved in politics.

Now that all five of my advisers were here, I felt that I could begin. Before I started, however, Jak raised his hand. “Hey, King, am I going crazy here? I can’t tell which you is the real you.” He pointed to both of my bodies, which were transformed to be identical to each other. Changelings do not rely on visual cues to identify one another; even if a hundred changelings transformed to look identical to one another, we could still tell each other apart using the hive mind.

Both of my faces smiled. “Anyone else confused?” I asked with both mouths. Every single head nodded. “They’re both me. I evicted Taruke from the control seat of his own body when he deiced that it was a good idea to set a man on fire.” There were a few murmurs among my department heads; they all already knew of Taruke’s crime, but had not been informed of the punishment.

“So you are both Rex? Then what happened to Taruke?” Jak asked.

Both bodies nodded. “Yes, I’m Alpha Rex,” my original said.

“And I’m the Beta Rex,” Taruke’s body added. I tapped Beta’s head. “Taruke’s trapped up here.”

“Now that that’s out of the way…” I started through Alpha.

“…let’s get down to business.” I finished with Beta.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Could you not do the twin-speak thing? It’s really annoying.”

“Sorry,” I said in unison with myself, grinning the whole while. My Beta self went quiet, letting my Alpha speak uninterrupted. “I meant what I said earlier. We shouldn’t just survive, but thrive. I figure that to accomplish this goal, we need to work on four different factors: population, money, food, and power. I want to grow this hive, but I also want to establish secondary hives in other cities so as to be able to grow without exhausting Atlanta.”

“There’s something else we need,” Ginny added. “Defense. You’ve been using us Silencers as your defense force for a while now, but that isn’t the goal you established us for. We need fully trained guards that can work well in a fight and, more importantly, are always there to save your sorry ass.” She gave me a pointed glare. “And, as the hive grows, it will be harder to cover our mistakes, so my division will need to grow. Maybe one for every forty new hive members.”

“I’ll also need about sixty percent of the new recruits to be primarily Love Collectors,” Jak commented. “Otherwise, we won’t be able to maintain our current levels of love consumption. Perhaps if we rationed and captured more humans for cocooning, we could get away with a lower ratio, but I don’t think we would want that.”

Anthony spoke next, his thick Russian accent distinctive in comparison to the others, “I know from my conversations with Finances in the past,” he glanced over at my Beta, formerly Taruke, “…that hatchlings, as easy as they are to breed, are expensive, as are street recruits. If I may be so bold, I think I may have a solution that satisfies money, power, and population.”

Both my Alpha and Beta leaned forwards, as did the other three heads, eager to hear his proposal. “Yes?”

“Well, what if we were to expose magic?” There were gasps all around. “To the right circles, I mean. Some of my information clients tend to covet any power they can get. If I were to… let it slip that I could do magic… and that the man who gave it to me was selling this power for the right – and relatively high – price… perhaps even selling a lesser version for their guards, then I could imagine that we would have potential converts lining up for the chance. Very wealthy and influential converts, I might add.”

“We’re going to want both sides of the law,” Ginny added. “Having the police or FBI on our side would make it much easier to go about our business.”

“And we’ll want the lawmakers, too,” Sal added, speaking for the first time since the meeting had started. “That will give us political leverage when we need it.”

“Wonderful,” I cheered. “Anthony, I would like you to make a list of the most influential people in the underworld who could be potential allies. Actually, look at everybody, not just criminals. Jak, would you work with my Beta to figure out how fast we can go on egg production without exhausting our resources. Also, if you would, work on a plan for establishing secondary colonies. Ginny, I would like you to help me create a guard. Sal… Just keep inventing.” She saluted me. I smiled.

Ginny frowned, having thought of another point to make. “Sir, what about other Gatekeepers? Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but three times is a pattern. We have to assume that more will be coming. Selene’s dream-walking proved to be little help in detecting Catherine before she appeared, and Catherine proves that not all Gatekeepers appear in as violent a manner as you or Selene. I would like your permission to work with R&D to create a task force specifically designed to identify and establish contact with future Gatekeepers, preferably before they become a problem.”

“Permission granted,” I replied. “Sal, this is your time to shine.”

I knocked gently on the no-tell motel door. The cheep rooms were serving as our temporary prison for the dozen anti-changeling movement members we had captured. Within each, one person lay on the bed, bound, gagged, and sedated with our venom. Also within each room sat the changeling that had been observing that particular human for the past few days, functioning as the human’s guard. The guard for this particular girl opened the door and let me in the room. Both of us were currently in human form, both as petite women who were smaller than our actual bodies.

I walked up to the bound human; by her scent and blush, I assumed that the visions our venom was giving her must have been quite nice. I leaned over her and pressed my hand against her back, just above where her liver would be located. My magic seeped into her liver to help it process the venom quicker; within moments, the paralysis started to wear off and her senses started to return.

I pulled my hand away and ended the magic when she started to struggle. Walking around the bed, I put myself in her line of sight. “I’m really sorry about this. I’ll un-gag you if you promise not to scream. Is that alright?”

The girl nodded quickly, excited to get her speech back. I pressed a finger to the gel on her lips, which dissolved quickly in response to my magic. “What do you want with me?” She asked the moment her mouth was free enough to form words, even though I had not finished cleaning it up. “I-I’ll give you all my money. I’ll never tell anyone. I’ll do anything you want. Just, please let me go!” From her emotions, it was clear that she was doing an amazing job at holding a poker face and not showing her tears.

This is where my act came in; I would pretend that ‘I’ had died and that I was Klika, the next changeling queen. I sat down on the edge of her bed and put my finger to her lips. "Shhh, I'm not going to hurt you. Your name is Emma, right? I just want to give you a choice." The woman looked perplexed, so I elaborated. "Don't worry; regardless of your answer, you will leave this room alive and unharmed. My question is this: do you want to be a changeling, too?"

"What kind of question is that?" Emma asked.

"A valid one..." I muttered. Then, louder, I said, "You don't have to choose right away, but you won't leave this room until you do."

"This is insane. Why did I ever join this group?" Emma asked herself.

"I'm curious too as to why you would join a hate group like this," I commented.

"Hate group? No, no, I thought this was some conspiracy theory group," Emma explained. "I found Catherine on the forums and thought she was a conspiracy nut like me... Then she brought proof. I thought this was some big joke and now I'm sitting tied up in some god-forsaken hotel room who-knows-where. I just want to go home."

"You wouldn't even be here if you had just left us alone; don't poke the changeling's nest and all. But Catherine, Sarah, and Dave had the brilliant idea to kill some of us. My father lost his life to your group," Emma gasped, "and now I'm queen years before I should have been."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean-" I cut her off.

"Do not worry about it. It wasn't you who killed them. That's why I'm offering you a choice." I went on to explain what being a changeling would mean, including the normal support that I offer to all of my converts.

At the end, she still seemed unsure. "You said I could leave if I said no, right?"

"Totally unharmed," I agreed.

"Then, I'm sorry, I can't do it."

"Then there is one last thing before you leave." I began to pool my venom in my mouth. Raising my finger to my lips, I teleported the concoction into her veins. To the changeling guard standing in the corner, I ordered, "Cocoon her."

"What? No! You can't do this! You said you'd let me go!" Emma struggled against her bonds even as her muscles began to go limp.

"I told you that you would leave this room unharmed. You are." Smirking, I added, "I never said what would happen afterwards, or how you would leave."

The last thing she saw before the hallucinations took her was my fanged grin.

Catherine's guard shrank down to the size of a fly and stuck to the wall on my orders. I waited until an hour after she had woken up to start working my magic. From outside her room, I cast the Astral-Projection spell that I had been practicing last night. I still was not very good at it, so the form – a reflection of my human self – wavered and appeared misty; in other words, it was perfect.

I guided the illusion into her room when the guard said she was not looking at the door, its silent motion going undetected by Catherine. Looking through the illusion's eyes, I walked it up to her side. With a little telekinesis, I solidified the projection and tapped her shoulder. She jerked, startled by the sudden contact. She flipped over and gasped when she saw me. "Will... No, you’re not real! Will is dead!"

"I know I am."

"You are just in my head. I'm crazy. I've lost it," she moaned.

I shook the projection's head. "Well, I don't know about that, but I am here now."

"So you're going to haunt me for eternity?"

I did my best to make the illusion look sad. "No, Catherine, I'm not. I'm using the last of my magic to come here to be with you. I love you."

Tears welled up in the human-griffin's eyes. "You really were Will." Even though it was not a question, I nodded the illusion's head anyway. "Will, I'm sorry."

"I forgive you." Those three simple words opened the floodgates. Tears dripped down her feathered cheeks as she sobbed. I stroked her back comfortingly. "Catherine, I don't have much time; I came to say goodbye."

"I'll see you in heaven, then..." When I did not immediately answer, Catherine got worried. "No..."

"Catherine, there's no paradise for me."

"No! You're not going to hell. Please, Will, tell me you’re not in hell!" Catherine cried, struggling against the bonds that held her captive.

I made the illusion sigh. "Catherine, I'm hanging in limbo right now, literally hanging above a soul eating abomination," I said, recounting my own temporary jaunt into the afterlife. "I'm hanging with a thread of magic, the same magic I'm using to talk to you now, my sweet Catherine."

"No..."

"Yes. In a moment, my magic will fail me and I will cease to exist. Ted and Shimmer, the changelings who died after me, have already fallen in. I tried to catch them after they were shot, but I wasn't strong enough. Goodb-" I cut the magic powering the illusion, cutting myself off mid-sentence.

I let Catherine cry while I braced myself. I had told her goodbye; now that woman in that room was just an enemy, not a lover. I was not even going to try to convert her, which would expose my lie. Instead, I was just going to cocoon her and end her threat once and for all.

I opened the hotel room door. "Hello, Catherine," I said in my feminine voice as I walked in, "do you remember me?" I shifted to a feminine version of my true form, complete with long, straight hair as opposed to my normally short and spiky style.

"No, I don't," Catherine said, struggling to calm her voice from her crying session.

"Well, that's no surprise." I shifted to match the form of a three-day old changeling. "I was a bit smaller back when you first saw me two and a half years ago in Daddy's apartment."

"You... You're his daughter." Guilt surged within Catherine.

"Yes, I'm Princess Klika, well Queen Klika now," I lied. "With as much as Daddy talked about you, I'd grown to like the you he knew. Then you had to try and fight us. Many of the changelings have been calling for your blood. Some even took it upon themselves to kill Dave out of vengeance. Let me tell you, that was gruesome. I don't want you to suffer that fate; let's call it honoring King Rex's memory of you. So," I braced myself, "do you want to be cleanly executed or cocooned for the rest of your natural life?" I morbidly asked.

"What kind of sick question is that?" She screamed.

"The last one you will ever be asked," I replied. "Either way, my changelings want to take from you what you from the three who died. How you pay is up to you."

"I... I want..."

During the dead of night, we lifted the last of the cocoons into the truck. On the left sat the cocoon of the sole human who had chosen to become a changeling. On the right sat the cocoons of those that had become our food; the changelings in the truck fed freely upon them.

As the truck door closed, a profound sense of relief washed over me, and then the rest of the hive. "It's done..." I whispered.

Upon reaching the cocoon warehouse, the new pods were hung among the rest, like trophies of our first battle. As celebration spread throughout the hive, Ginny's Silencers went to work cleaning up the loose ends. Life was looking good for the hive.

Author's Notes:

*Ding* Have a chapter. This is the end of Catherine's Arc. We won't be really seeing her again (she may be mentioned later, but only in passing).

Also, a series of comments by BeneathTheShade and Clay The Draconequus reminded me of something, something really damn important: Rex's original characterization. I was derailing my own character! He kept growing wimpier and more impulsive, and I didn't like it. So, starting now, I will be attempting to return Rex to his rightful personality, but I will try to do it in a logical, progressive manner that flows well and is not too jarring. Also, that original personality will come into play in a later chapter. If he isn't in the right frame of mind, that plot point will seem odd and forced.

So, thank you BeneathTheShade and Clay The Draconequus for your accidental help!

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Thank you, Mr. Replacement Insanity, for editing.

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Hive population: 340 (+1 digital).