0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He punched her in the face.
In the face.

Chrysalis had to admit, she never would have seen that one coming. The pale monster hurtled itself from above, a mighty swing smacking her square in the jaw.
She barely even flinched.
More out of sheer shock than anything else, really.

Ryan’s ‘brilliant’ rescue plan of ‘punch the big bug in the face’ had a couple of unseen consequences.
Like, for example, the fact that he threw himself from a fair height resulted in his eventual landing on the ground at high speed.
Oh, he had enough time to punch Chrysalis in the jaw on the way down, of course. It was just another instance where Ryan didn’t think things through properly, and wound up hurting himself.

Again.
He rolled with the impact, bouncing along the raised dais in the center of the dome shaped room, finally coming to a stop.

“… Aw, fuck.” He wheezed in pain, unable to push himself off the ground. Ryan dimly noted that if he hadn’t hurt himself, that probably would have been the single most amazing thing he’d ever done since ‘heroically’ throwing himself into a whirling interdimensional vortex in the wild hopes of actually saving somebody for once in his life.
Chrysalis, however, was of a different opinion.

“… Ow.” She seethed, glaring with deadly intent at her assailant. The rest of the changelings started toward him, but Chrysalis dissuaded them with a single nudge of her mind. Their link to their queen relayed her basic wishes to them, and they steadily backed away, bright blue eyes watching closely.

Ryan heaved, struggling to get to his feet. Through the changelings, he could see that some of the others had been trapped inside the ichor cocoons; only Twilight and himself had avoided the same fate. For now.

And Twilight wasn’t moving.
“P-Purple?” he wheezed, straining his muscles to force them to keep their posture.
Can’t pass out – gotta save the kids. Can’t pass out – gotta save the kids.
While the changelings had slowly begun forming a large, silent circle around the dais, Chrysalis began stepping confidently toward him. Large, venomously green irises greeted him from behind a length of teal colored mane, covering several holes in her body. A pair of veiny, aerodynamic insectile wings flittered briefly as she raised her head high, and a row of sharp looking teeth were revealed when she opened her mouth.

“One would assume that your pitiful display of aggression were a form of challenge.” Chrysalis stated slowly, working out the soreness in her jaw.
Ryan’s face displayed dim surprise that the much larger changeling could speak. He’d been expecting something along the lines of an Aliens movie reject, spitting out eggs.
“… Did…” he breathed slowly. “… Did you hurt these kids?” he asked dangerously. Ryan’s fists slowly clenched into tight balls, squeezing so hard that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. He eyed the single cocoon in the center of the dais, revealing three familiar fillies desperately pounding their little hooves against the inside as they tried in vain to escape.

“You punched me in the face.”
“I asked you a muh-fuckin’ question!” Ryan spat, glowering at her as the rage steadily built inside him. She’d hurt them. She’d hurt them, and Twilight wasn’t getting up. That part seemed to have done more than unsettle him; Ryan’s eyes had gained a sort of sunken, horrified look, but his voice was steady.
“You punched me. In. The FACE.”

Ryan didn’t give her the option to speak again.

He dashed forward, fist cocked back and ready to punch her again; because that was always his plan. Fix it by punching it in the face.
Ryan didn’t make it two steps before an enormous wave of power slammed him into the ground.
His knees buckled almost instantly, and he found that he couldn’t breath. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head in shock as the queen’s jagged black horn glowed with a sickly jade light, and the pressure increased. The smug grin on her face widened as she telekinetically dragged Twilight closer, dropping her on the ground at her forehooves.

It took Ryan a moment to realize what the much-more-powerful-than-he’d-expected queen was doing.
For one, she wasn’t killing him outright; she was smothering him, with an enormous amount of pressure, and forcing him to his hands and knees to unwillingly kneel before her.
Secondly, she was mocking him. It was evident from the superior expression on her face, overpowering him outright and loving every second of it.
Finally, she was sucking the life out of Twilight.

He wanted to scream, wanted to fight back – but the immense waves of energy crushed him, pushed him further against the ground. Ryan couldn’t fight, couldn’t breath; and now he was going to die. Surrounded by quietly watching changelings, ice-blue eyes waiting in trepidation for when it would be his turn to be shoved into a pod, just like the others.
He was going to die.
Just like Twilight.
Just like the others.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Ryan never did like graveyards.

This one was no different. Just a small little place, on the outskirts of Brooklyn. A quaint little place; he supposed the miniature bridge over the small babbling brook and the enclosed trees were supposed to make it feel a little more friendly, but it only gave the place an even sadder atmosphere.

Or maybe he was just projecting.

He knelt silently against a small headstone, resting a single tulip against it. He wished he had more to give Tiffany. Before long, he rose again and quietly trudged along the worn path, to his only other visiting spot in the entire graveyard.
It felt like he’d been there a million times; every time, he wished it weren’t the same. Wished that he could have changed something, anything so that things might not have turned out so badly. Seeing families buried together hurt.

The small mound of dirt in between the two larger headstones, each one with a Celtic stone cross atop it held the same name: Wilson. Even in death, Tiny Tim’s parents were still with him.
A small sob escaped his throat, but he quickly forced it back down.
Pity, grief, fear, sorrow.
Hope.

These were signs of weakness. The warning signs of going soft.
You didn’t survive if you were soft; you didn’t survive if you ever stopped moving.
Ryan hated feeling weak. He hated feeling soft, feeling trapped. The same feeling that crept back into his chest, overwhelming him every time he came back.
Despair.

Oh, how he hated it.
He hated weakness.
He hated Carlos for bringing all this suffering.
He hated himself for helping Carlos do it.

Because he was weak; he never stood up to Carlos. Soft and weak. That was how people died, and it was his fault. It was always his fault; but it never bothered him quite as much as it did to see a child – an innocent child, everything ripped away from them.
Weak.
Soft and weak.
Weak.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“What’s going on?” he yelled, fists curling into balls. “What the fuck is going on? Did – how…?!”
Twilight slowly stepped up to him, looking at him with large, baleful eyes.
“No longer am I subservient.” Her eyes glowed brightly along with her horn, and Ryan gradually felt his feet leaving the ground. He panicked, not expecting the sudden levitation.

“No longer shall I suffer for sins that are not my own,” she said more loudly, and to his great displeasure, Ryan discovered that the rocky edge of the flying city was slowly growing closer.
… She’s going to kill me, he realized with dim awareness.
Her voice grew soft again, and he could see that she was weeping openly now. “No – no longer. You will know what to do when the time comes,” she cried, trying to keep her voice even as Ryan was dangled out over the edge of the cliff. The burning city below him greeted him hungrily.

“Purple – Twilight, stop!” he struggled in fear, kicking his feet uselessly to get back onto solid ground.
“… Tell her. Tell her for me, ‘love will hurt you’. Tell her for me,” Twilight said quietly through the tears glistening down her cheeks. “Tell her.”
“Tell who? Twilight, please!” he begged, desperate.
“No longer.” She steadily drew him closer to the precipice as she walked slowly to him, and put her forehooves on his chest as she looked him in the eye.

And then, Twilight whispered something in his ear. Something he wished he’d never, ever hear again.
Something he certainly hoped he’d never hear coming out of Twilight Sparkle’s mouth.
“… Hail, Dawnbreaker.”
And then she dropped him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Ryan Miller was not a nice person.

The crushing strength of Chrysalis was overwhelming, true; no matter how many muscles he strained, he knew that he’d never break free from her magical grip. So instead, he did the only other thing he could do.
The familiar barrier brushing up against his mind bobbed friendlily, awaiting him. It was not a conscious effort this time – there was only the dull realization that Twilight was being hurt. She was being hurt by this… monster. And she was going to die.

Wham.
His feet felt heavy, like concrete blocks had been tied to his legs.
Wham.
The mental barrier shook as he slammed against it again, forsaking all subtlety or careful exploration as he simultaneously pushed himself forward.
Wham. Wham. Wham.
Ever footstep, every heavy ram against the barrier in his mind shuddered with the force as he drew every last drop of strength from his reserve. The acquainted spark dwelling within flickered in and out, quivering as if it would vanish forever if he pushed too hard.
Wham.
He pushed harder.

Queen Chrysalis noted him in grim surprise, seeing that within the span of seconds this pale creature had begun to shrug off her hold on him. More than that, though; a ripple of pure, focused energy was fighting back against her nonphysical grip, forcing her to pour more of her own strength into it. She readily drew power from the violet unicorn before her, and Twilight shook violently in pain as she did so.

The pale beast only grew stronger as she did so.
Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham! WHAM!
No words, no thoughts escaping it; Chrysalis’s only warning for his sudden lurch forward when her magical grip suddenly shattered was a barely registered instinct, something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Fear.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Wham! Wham! Wham!

That’s all there was, to Ryan. Break the barrier, get the kid. Get the kid. Get the kid.
Even long after the pitiful shield protecting his mind from the expected torrent of invisible chaos around him faded, he plowed thoughtlessly onward, driven solely by protective instinct and rage.

There are some that say that there is absolutely nothing more powerful that protective instinct. That those who come under its influence most often experience a short burst of incredible, impossible prowess that would allow them to overcome unmanageable odds.

It wasn’t a conscious effort on Ryan’s part, heaving himself forward; there was only his will, and a child that needed him.
So, he was equally surprised when his slowly extending hand reached out and tried to grasp the first thing he came to.
The long, black and jagged horn of Queen Chrysalis.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Things had been unchanging for Chrysalis.
Find food for her children, expand the hive.

Over and over again, barely surviving in the desert. For a changeling, she did not deal with change very well.
Her little ones were what were most important. She watched them grow, watched them serve obediently as she knew they would; their ‘minds’ and hers were as almost as one. A single link, connecting every mind in the hive.

So, when one of her changelings died, it was a common occurrence. Changelings were never expected to have long lifespans.
However, when one of her changelings suddenly vanished from the link, Chrysalis became very, very nervous.

This pale creature, this… beast. The sudden realization that this freak gorilla was responsible for taking one of her little ones out of the link brought her much, much greater fear as it’s slick palm pressed against the tip of her horn. Ergo, it was mainly out of fear that her first instinct was to rear her head –

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

- As the jagged horn of the changeling queen ripped directly through his left palm, jutting up in a spurt of blood and pain.

Ryan’s violent mind met her own, and quite frankly, Chrysalis was unprepared for the sudden explosion of sheer hate that met her as they made contact.
Every push she’d made, every scrap of energy she’d drawn from the unmoving unicorn, every wave of energy she’d been using to crush the nearly hairless gorilla before her came rushing directly back at her, nearly tenfold.

It ripped against her mind, a flood of hate and destruction that she was barely able to contain as she launched desperate counterattack after counterattack, vainly attempting to escape.
There was no thought from it.
There was no single semblance of rationality or sentience.

Only raw, unfathomable depths of violence and hate.

This… thing. It horrified her in more ways than one. It wasn’t right, it should never exist.
A monster.
A demon.
A being of the most foul-

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

- Sort that fought against him, flinging wave after wave of energy back at him.
Wham. Wham. Wham.
Nothing mattered; no extent of pain, no plea that he heard. Twilight was being hurt by a monster. A soul sucking, vehement monster.

Ryan felt no pity for monsters.

All of this occurred – the trudge forward, pierced by the queen, the mental attack – in a span of about four seconds. That was about all the time it took for Ryan to dimly realize that his hand had been pierced.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It wasn’t like insult to injury; spit on an opponent after you defeat them. To any kind of unicorn, alicorn or otherwise, the horn is a vital part of their body. It acts as a magical conduit, and is deeply connected to them.

So, one can only imagine the shock and agony Chrysalis felt when the Beast From Tartarus grabbed her horn with its free appendage and broke it off midway.

She screamed in pain, blinded by torment as the link between herself and the monster broke –
- Along with every single other changeling in the hive.
They screamed as one, a deafening cacophony of anguish and suffering as a pillar of green flame spouted from the shattered horn, spiraling into the air and blasting through the ceiling.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Light filtered in through the top, bathing both Chrysalis and Ryan in a bright glow.
Not nearly as bright as the lime green flame surrounding them, however.
Ryan held his injured hand high above his head in mindless triumph as the black handle of a wickedly curving sabre formed in his palm, extending to its length and ending in a warped point.
“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” he roared in bestial fury, voice drowned out by the screaming of the changelings. None were as loud as Chrysalis, however, who shrieked in fright as she blindly flew toward the opening in the ceiling to her freedom.

Some of the changelings spotted her and followed; many of them, however, simply died outright.
A large number of them fell from the ceiling, clattering and splattering against the floor. The previously obedient mass of changelings swarmed around Ryan in pain and fear, each wishing for an opportunity to return the pain the monster had brought them, but none willing to suffer the same fate as their long-gone queen.

Again, in dire situations, feats of incredible prowess are occasionally displayed by those in need of them. However, those are few and far between, and aside from that, nobody ever mentions the immense drain brought about afterwards.
The flaming emerald saber held above Ryan’s head promptly vanished as he ripped the horn out of his hand, and the exhaustion hit him as he collapsed.

… Can’t pass out. Gotta save the kids. His mantra floated awkwardly about his head, and he found it suddenly very difficult to focus. A blinding pressure was throbbing behind his eyes, and his muscles felt like they’d been dipped in tar. Ryan dimly tried to throw himself protectively over the unmoving Twilight, the room slowly spinning before him.
“… No. Na-aaw.” He slurred, swinging his one good arm uselessly at the changelings. His vision blurred, and darkness began creeping in at the edges of his eyes.
Can’t pass out… can’t pass out…!

They drew in closer, completely surrounding him and Twilight. He shook her desperately, despair clawing at his chest as he found it much harder to breath; or speak without crying.
“… C’mon, kid. Wake up,” he croaked weakly, shaking the unresponsive unicorn. “Wake – wake up…!” Ryan’s voice cracked, and his bloodshot eyes whirred wildly around his head as they hungry changelings drew ever closer, barely feet away. He could see the drool dripping from their slavering jaws, sharp teeth shown in wide smirks of victory. Even though so many had dropped dead, there were still so many…

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. He’d won. He’d won against the queen, he’d fought impossible odds, he should have been given a happy ending!
“Is… it’s how tha’ works!” he slurred as he screamed hoarsely at them, weeping openly as he tried to protect Twilight from them. “Git! Get ‘way! ‘s not fair! Get away!”

“THOU SHALT NOT BRING HARM TO AN INNOCENT.”
It was like a massive boom, sounding throughout the room.

A pair of glowing white eyes greeted him from a single enclave, far above. The remaining changelings looked up at their fellow in awe as he descended, wings flaring brightly as he dropped in front of Ryan and Twilight.
“PEACE, MY BRETHEREN.” He spoke, voice echoing throughout the domed room.

A brilliant, garishly bright and simultaneously soft white glow emanated from the tip of his horn, and Ryan finally discovered the limits of the human body as he passed out.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Floating.

That was the first sensation he felt as he awoke. Ryan drifted for what seemed like an eternity, unable to focus. He was certain that he was supposed to do something – something important. Every cell in his body was coaxing him back into sleep, into sweet unconsciousness, but there was something… else, nagging at the back of his mind. He couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard he tried.

His first reaction was to investigate it.
The familiar little spark was still there; almost. It felt immaterial, like it had woven itself into his mind. The shield was long gone, but no torrents of chaos swarmed at him. The spark was there, and that was all that mattered. It was warm, peaceful – he could just drift there with it, quietly and with no worries.

But the spark had other plans.
It felt… alive. Pulsing, breathing. Merely recognizing this instantly yanked him away from it, and back to the edge of consciousness. Just the bare beginnings of awakening, when one becomes aware of their surroundings.

Ryan’s eyes burst open as the recent events blurred through his mind, and he tried to scream in terror; failingly, as a porous liquid was filling his lungs. It burned his lungs as he tried to cough it out, only more flooding in as he flailed. It burned his eyes, and he panicked as he desperately struggled to escape. The liquid choked him, stinging his tongue, his lungs, it all burned...

He was in one of the pods.
He was trapped… trapped!

Out! Out! Out! Out! Out!

The translucent cover of the pod ripped open in a flash of lavender light as he collapsed against the ground, vomiting up green goo.
“…-an! Ryan!”
He shook his head, straining to get his bearings as he coughed and choked against the foul, bile tasting liquid.

“Ryan! Ryan!” Twilight’s voice sounded like a siren next to him, and he cleared the rest of the goop from his eyes and ears.
“… ‘Sup, kid.” He choked, and she flung her hooves around his shoulders.
“Oh, thank Celestia,” she sobbed, wiping some of the ichor off of his face. “We didn’t think you were… going to wake up.”

Glancing upward, he took in the surroundings a little better.

The massive, dome shaped room had undergone a few changes since he’d been unconscious.
For one, several more holes had been added to the ceiling, and the room was much brighter than before. The numerous bodies of dead changelings had been taken piled grimly on the far side, away from many of the other conscious changelings.
More importantly, absolutely none of them were attacking.

Pinkie Pie was near some of the other cocoons, helping a revolted Rainbow Dash out. Applejack was tending to Fluttershy, and Rarity was interrogating the white-eyed alicorn-changeling-thing that had… done something, apparently.
Ryan wasn’t very good at putting things together quickly.

If he had been, he might have noticed that he wasn’t bleeding a little sooner.
He gazed at his wounds in mild surprise, noting that some of them had been partially scarred over. Twilight saw him staring at his own wounds, particularly the thin hole in his left hand.
“… Here.” She said helpfully, tearing another filthy strip from his already ruined pants. It was the cleanest strip she could find, but that wasn’t saying much. Using her magic, she quickly wrung out any liquid, and wrapped it gently around his wounded hand.

“… Uh. Thanks, kid.” Ryan grunted, afraid to move his hand. He was lucky the queen’s horn hadn’t simply pierced any bones. The flesh around the wound had turned a nasty sort of green and black, and he couldn’t feel much of it.
That wasn’t a good sign.

“You’re… you’ll be fine…” Twilight said uncertainly, and she sat down next to him.
“… ‘Kay. You’ve been awake a lil’ bit longer ‘n me.” he stated, looking about the room at the interacting changelings. They all had the same bright blue eyes, unlike the white-eyed changeling, which was slowly making its way past its comrades. It would occasionally stop in front of a few of the, giving each one a kind touch or a soft word.

“Only by a few minutes,” Twilight said without looking at him. She seemed just as surprised by the events taking place as him.
“Guess I didn’t miss much, then, huh?”
Twilight seemed a little agitated. “You tell me.”

“Hey!” Ryan shouted suddenly, waving his one good arm at white-eyes. “Lil’ bug fucker! C’mere!”
To Ryan’s dismay, Rarity, Applejack and Fluttershy, Dash and Pinkie followed the changeling closely. Heading directly towards them. With wide, relieved eyes.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

“Rye-pie!” Pinkie shrieked, flinging her forehooves around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly. His body wracked with pain at some of his wounds suddenly being pulled painfully at, but he didn’t move. “You’re okay!”
“… Ow.” He groaned, left hand held tight against his side as it slowly began to burn. NOW the pain kicks in.
“Uh, define ‘okay’, darlin’.” Applejack deadpanned, giving him her own little hug, which Pinkie gladly made room for.

“Stop. Quit. Stop fuckin’ hugging me.” Ryan grumbled, but made no move to push them away as the others joined in, and a tiny grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “… Seriously, ya lil’ shits. Fuck off.”
“Dawww, we love you, too.” Pinkie giggled, patting him on the head.

A sudden thought occurred to him, and he pushed them away. “Hey. Any o’ you guys see a unicorn?”
“Take a look ‘round, sugarcube.” Applejack deadpanned again. She motioned with one hoof toward the multitude of changelings with horns.
“Fuck you, smartass.” Ryan tried to scowl, finding it a little difficult. “Seriously; a kinda brown one… tan, I guess. Real short hair – uh, mane. Blade Ripper.”

The others merely looked confused, and Twilight shook her head. “Sorry; haven’t seen anypony that looks like that in here.”
“Damn.” Ryan swore, glancing around the higher enclaves as white-eyes finally approached them. He was hoping to get in a few more words with that unicorn, but he was probably long gone by now.

“Ah, I see you have awakened, milord.” White-Eyes said calmly, eyeing the broken pod. “I do apologize most profusely about your temporary stasis; however, I feared that without the supplementary physical suppression provided by your… podding, you would not have survived.” His voice was peaceful, melodic; he just sounded like a caring, nice guy.
Ryan wasn’t having any of that.

“Hey, fuck you.” he flipped the changeling off. “I don’t like bein’ stuck in small places.”
“I didn’t know you were claustrophobic.” Twilight blinked at him.
“I ain’t afraid o’ nothin’!” Ryan insisted, crossing his arms across his chest, careful not to move his left hand too much. The pain in it was steadily growing, and it was very distracting.

Instead of getting offended at Ryan’s brash behavior, the changeling merely smiled in an understanding way at him.
“Of course, milord.” White-Eyes smiled, and sat patiently before him.
“Shit.” Ryan grumbled, after thinking for a moment. “… You’re the one from before, right?” he asked, thinking back to the incident with the changeling’s mind and how radically it had affected it.
“But of course.” He replied simply, staring back.

“… You, uh… you got a name?”
“We are changelings, milord. We possess no names to speak of.” He explained, and Pinkie nosed at his wing experimentally. The changeling took no notice. “When you graciously granted Deliverance upon us from the Queen’s reign, many were… incapable of adaptation.” He looked sadly at the pile of changelings at the far end of the room, and his eyes stayed on it for several long moments.
“… Shit. Uh, sorry ‘bout that.” Ryan said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head guiltily.

The changeling shook its head, as if trying to rid itself of sadness. “Feel no pity, milord – those that denied themselves the opportunity of the Awakening were nothing more than mindless servants; shells, if you will. They could not become proper vessels of thine holiness.”
“… Uh, what?” Twilight was the first to speak. “Awakening? Holiness?”

“Correct. ‘Tis the truth.” The changeling spoke softly, gazing at its fellows before looking back at them all. “Those of us who chose to retain our lives were only those who broke away from the Queen. By doing so, they were granted awareness of themselves when the link was broken. Thus, the Awakening. I was the first.” He said, a single holed-hoof gently sliding around his wide, white eyes.

“So… why are your eyes white?” Rarity asked curiously, gauging the difference between him and the other blue eyed changelings.
“I forsook my own physical sight, in lieu of accepting the embrace of our Lord, as the shadows embrace the coming of the dawn.” He stated simply.
It had never occurred to Ryan that the milky white of his eyes had been unnatural. Guilt suddenly wracked him as he realized just what he’d done to the changeling. Even though its eyes moved about now and then, he felt horrible for never noticing that the changeling hadn’t ever looked directly at any of them.
And it was his fault.

“… Fuck.” Ryan swore again quietly, hanging his head dejectedly. It felt like a golf ball had lodged itself in his throat.
“If I might be so bold as to humbly request that you not fret over my... minor condition, milord.” The changeling said gracefully, bowing his head in respect. “Thou have given me much to ponder; perhaps, I have been graced even more so than my brethren.” With that, a dim, glowing white spark appeared at the tip of his jagged horn, and it whirred gently downward in a flurry as it vanished.

“Truly, I have been blessed.” The changeling stated. Its unrelenting gratitude only made Ryan feel worse.
“But-but-“ Ryan choked miserably. “-you’re blind.”
“Ah, perhaps. But I see far more than many might perceive.” He said with a small smile. “And perception is a strange thing, I assure you, milord.”

“Um…” Twilight began hesitantly. “I… don’t get one thing…” she said slowly. “… You… Well… Correct me if I’m wrong, but why do you keep calling Ryan your… lord?”

The changeling instantly stood, small torn wings flaring instantly as the white spark arose in a flurry at the tip of his horn, and his eyes seemed to glow as he stood. Ryan cringed, expecting the booming voice from before, but instead, he spoke quietly, gently. However, every single head in the room turned to him, and they were surprised to see every changeling bowing in reverence as White-Eyes spoke.
Not much. Just two little words.
Words that were echoed by every single changeling, quietly and with respect. Words that reverberated throughout the area, and even though it was said in barely a whisper, everyone heard it.
And none were more frightened than Ryan when they said it.

“Hail, Dawnbreaker.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Hiiii-yaaaah!” Cheerilee grabbed an unsuspecting changeling with her forehooves, and headbutted it hard enough to knock it unconscious. Spike, clinging to her mane as he stood atop her back, yelled in defiance at the swarm of changelings as he swung at them with his makeshift lance, which was basically a large stick.
“What? What? What?” Cheerilee leapt back and forth on her two back legs, punching another changeling in the face and kicking another in the ribs, knocking it against the wall of the dome shaped room. “What now? Huh, huh? You want some of this? Come on!” she challenged. Oddly enough, not a single one of them put up much of a fight.

“Ms. Cheerilee?” a sqeaky, high-pitched voice cracked over the din they were making.
“Sweetie Belle!” she cried out, eyes widening. She punched another changeling in the side of the head, following up with a roundhouse kick. Spike had difficulty clinging to her.
“Wait, stop, stop!” Twilight yelped, putting a small pink magical bubble around Spike and Cheerilee, dropping it once the fighting had stopped.

And, much to Cheerilee’s surprise, absolutely none of the changelings were fighting back.
“… Uh, Twilight?” Spike asked nervously, glancing about at the terrified changelings. One of them, with large, menacing white eyes and a jagged horn was slowly drawing towards them.
“It’s okay, cavalry.” Twilight grinned wryly. “They’re on our side.”

Sweetie Belle snuggled next to her sister, and Applejack did the same. Cheerilee seemed to be in a state of shock.
“... I’m sorry, what?” she blinked, staring at her. Scootaloo waved at her, and trotted animatedly away from the barely-conscious Ryan, who was leaning (and bleeding) against a broken pod.
“Hiya!” she chirped happily at their confusion. “Did Daddy send you guys?” Scootaloo asked, peering at them. Spike was poking his little claw through a mildly irritated changeling’s leg hole.
“We-well, I tried to stop these idiots-“ Cheerilee began angrily as she motioned toward a sheepish Twilight and company, “-from running into what was obviously a trap. Little Spike, here, the poor thing…”

Twilight suddenly looked very, very guilty.
“I, uh… well, you... didn’t come back to the library, Twilight…” Spike said nervously. “I-I mean, I got a little worried when you didn’t come back, and, well…” he hefted his makeshift twig-lance over his shoulder.
“He insisted.” Cheerilee said, sharing a knowing look between the dragon and smiling.
For some reason, Spike shuddered at that.

“Hey. ‘Sup.” Ryan lumbered over, and-
“SWEET TARTARUS!” Cheerilee yelped. “What happened to you?!”
Ryan glanced down at himself, clutching his now-shaking left hand to his stomach. To be fair, Cheerilee had plenty of excuse to be shocked. What with the filthy, matted down hair, sagging and bloodshot eyes, ripped clothes, profusely bleeding wounds, and slightly burned hands, he looked like a complete disaster.

“Oh, you know.” He said conversationally, as if discussing the weather. “Went on vacation, saw Disneyland – Hawaii was great, got some sun, picked up a couple of postcards for WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK, YA’ DUMB BITCH!?” Ryan bellowed, spittle flying from between his lips from the force of his shout. A tuft of Cheerilee’s mane flew backwards, and stuck in that position.

“There has been a slight modification within the status quo.” A blind changeling proffered kindly, patting her on the back. Cheerilee flinched, but calmed down a bit when she realized he meant no harm.
A little.

“Ooh! Ooh!” Pinkie Pie bounded around them, and Ryan was (secretly) glad to see her at her chipper self. “Story time! Don’t you worry, Auntie Pinkie Pie brought popcorn!” she giggled to Fluttershy, plopping down on the dirty ground next to her.
“… I’m a year older than you.” Fluttershy stated. Pinkie, however, was too busy munching on a bag of popcorn to listen. Spike casually leaned over and pulled out a few kernels, chewing loudly on them.
“… Where’d you even get these?” he muttered to her from the side of his mouth.
“Same place I keep all my stuff. Duh.” Pinkie replied, watching the group.

The group, however, was quite intently watching Pinkie Pie.
“… What?” she asked, confused.
Ryan snorted, using his one good hand to rub his aching… everything.
“How’s about we do the talkin’ after we get back home, eh?” he said, and immediately afterwards regretted his words.

This wasn’t his home.
… Was it?

“Very well, milord.” White-Eyes said softly. “My brethren shall lead thee to any exits you might need; or, if necessary, we shall make new exits. I think you’ll find that not many will wish to stay in this place, I’m afraid.” He said sadly, shaking his head.
“… Why not?” Ryan asked, peering about. “Isn’t this, like, your… house? Hive? Thing?”
“True, it was our abode for quite some time.” The changeling nodded. “However, one finds that with awareness most oft comes a burning curiosity. I doubt that any of my brethren would wish to remain confined, away from the world.”

Cheerilee suddenly became very, very nervous.
“… You’re… you’re following us back to Ponyville…” she began slowly, panic rising in her voice.
“No.” the changeling stated. “Gladly would we follow in the steps of our Savior, the Most Holy One. We shall follow him; however, shouldst it be his Divine Will that we remain, we shall vow to do so.” And, from the look the blind changeling was giving Ryan, he could have sworn that it was looking right into his soul.

It took him a moment to realize that it was awaiting an answer.
“… Uh…” Ryan said uncertainly. He looked about for assistance, but none was given. They were all waiting for him. Even some of the other changelings were listening in.
“… Fuck, man. Just… just do, uh… I dunno. Do whatever.” He shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, I guess. So long as you ain’t hurtin’ anybody.”

“Very well.” White-Eyes bowed. “We shall do ‘whatever’.” He said regally.
Another of the changelings in the crowd cheered. “The Prophet has spoken!” the same chant was happily repeated throughout the small crowds, and several of them milled about.
“…’Kay.” Ryan asked. “Prophet?”
“That would be… me, I suppose, milord.” White-Eyes said in dim surprise. It was one of the few expressions Ryan had seen it display.
“… Sweet. Imma call you ‘Proppy’.” He grinned.
“Milord, if I might suggest something less… whimsical.” Proppy cocked an eyebrow, evidently agitated.

“Hey, you lil fucks wanted ta’ worship me!” Ryan said, jabbing a thumb into his own chest. “Proppy’s a great fuckin’ name!”

‘Proppy’ sighed, giving in to his fate.
“… Very well, milord. Thy will be done.”
“… ‘Kay, new rule.” Ryan deadpanned. “Quit fuckin’ worshipin’ me.”

A quick scan around and head count made sure that everypony was accounted for, and Proppy started toward one of the lower cavernous entrance holes. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan spotted a couple of changelings shapechanging in little puffs of green flame into identical copies of Pinkie Pie, giggling hysterically.
It was a little creepy.

Wiping some of the blood (and ichor) off of himself, Ryan kept up a slow and even pace next to Proppy.
“Hey.” He asked quickly, motioning toward the slime. “This, uh… this shit.” Ryan felt a little awkward about it, if only for the reason that he didn’t particularly feel like the answer was going to be any good to his question. If he had known how bad it was going to be, he never would have asked.
“Yes, milord?” Proppy answered immediately.
“This… crap.” He restated, flicking a bit of the slime off. “Uh… slime. What is it?”

For once, Ryan watched the changeling laugh. It was a mirthful, good natured laugh, very different from what he'd expected. Proppy motioned for one of the changelings to come over, and it did so promptly. It was a little larger than Proppy, with only a pair of wings jutting out from its sides. It’s holed legs clopped loudly over the floor as it ran to him ecstatically, eager to help.
“Sir, yes sir!” it said, slapping one hoof against its head in a salute.

Proppy deadpanned. “I am no ‘sir’, child. If thou wishest to pay respect, then one should do so to our Lord and Savior.”
The changeling instantly dropped to his knees, kissing the floor.
“Aw, gross!” Ryan backed away. “Dude, don’t… don’t do that.” He said uncomfortably.

Proppy sighed heavily, motioning the changeling forward. “Would you mind too terribly, giving a small demonstration as to how the podding technique is performed?” he asked kindly, and the changeling nodded.
“Absolutely!” he said, far too cheerily.

What followed was the most horrifying and mentally scarring experience of Ryan’s entire life.

The changeling sauntered over to an empty pod, gently peeling back a bit of the transparent jacket. He carefully stood on two hind legs to lean over it, stuck his muzzle inside, and promptly began projectile vomiting all over the inside.

If one didn’t know any better, you’d have guessed that Ryan was trying to imitate him.

Author's Notes:

Enjoy your Nightmare Fuel.