Author's Notes:

Okay, so there's a little bit of torture, but it's nothing over the top. It's not even gory, since it's from Kestral's perspective. Anyways, forgive me if it seems to be a little bit disconnected. I was jumping all over the place on where I wanted to go with this one.

On another note, Hiatus just means I'm working super slow. It's on the back burner, so it might take some time to get stuff out. I'm still going to keep it on hiatus until school dismisses, probably. Maybe even after that. Who knows.

In any case, have a good read. See you all again. Eventually.

There weren't a great number of things to be said about his walk to the hospital. The occasional cricket played a solo whenever he passed a patch of grass, and a group of cats burst through in front of him at some point. In an unusual fashion of the weather team, large blankets of clouds covered parts of the city, blocking out much of the typical moonlight. The darkness was offset by the existence of oil lamps at every street corner, as if they were designed just for such an occasion.

He approached the front of the hospital, and was met with a pair of stallions. One was a batpony, while the other was an earthpony. The batpony looked at him lazily, as if he wasn't giving all the effort he could to standing there and doing nothing. “You the courier?” He asked.

“Yep.” He said, opened the door between them.

“Her majesty is on the left hall, towards the back. There'll be guards at the room she's in.”

“Thanks.” He said, casually passing them.

He passed the reception desk, which was manned by a rather fidgety mare of auburn color. He continued down the hall, and spotted the pair of guards that were outside of one of the rooms. He approached them, and felt as if he was walking into a prison. Their stares felt more unnatural than usual, and it wasn't the slits they had for pupils. He stopped at the door, when they crossed their spears in his way.

“Name?” One asked.

“Hunter.” He said.

The mare nodded, and they retracted their weapons. “She awaits you, then.”

He entered, closing the metallic door behind him, and looked around the pale room. The bright crystals on the ceiling spread light across the bland walls and floor. Curtains, one for each of the three beds in the room, hung from the room. The further two were slid over to the wall, shielding the inhabitants from view. The closest, however, was wide open, with Luna standing at the patient's side.

He walked across the bleached tiles, and stood next to the bed, looking over the patient. The patient was a mare, as far as he was able to tell. Her lavender coat was patchy at best, but most of it was covered with bandages of different types. Her eyes were bloodshot, and stared at him without emotion. Her mouth opened, and she took a raspy breath, releasing a wave of rotten breath. She hastily grasped a glass of water at her side, and drank it greedily, setting it down when she was done.

Luna gave him a curt nod. “Thank you for coming so quickly.” She said.

“Anything for you, your majesty.” He said solemnly. Then, he looked over the mare that was laying in the bed. “But, if it is within my power to ask so quickly, what is it that you need for me to do?”

She turned to the mare on the bed, who wiped her lips of any water that spilled. “Tulip.” She said, almost cooing. “Do you mind telling my friend here what you told me? Just the part where you were already captured, please.”

The mare nodded, and took another raspy breath, gathering her thoughts. “Yes, your majesty.” She said, then looked towards Kestral. “When I was stuck in that prison,” She paused, taking another breath. “It was like I was dreaming. It was just like real life, almost.” Another breath. “All of my friends were there, and everything just kept going on. Nothing was different, until I got near the end.” Another breath, but this one was more shaky. “The dream they forced me into turned into a nightmare. It was slow at first, but it kept building. It was like I was watching the whole world just break apart in front of me.”

He nodded, listening intently. When she took a long pause, he spoke. “Do you mind if I ask what kind of nightmares?”

She shrugged, though the shakiness in her voice didn't go away. “Mine was a fiery apocalypse, where the mountain turned into a volcano, and meteors fell into the city.” She said. “I can't speak for everyone though.”

He nodded, though he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with the information. He let his mind churn for a moment, trying to think of why Luna would want him to listen to her story. “Was there...” He paused. “Was there anything that might have seemed odd, even for the circumstances? Anything in the nightmare that might have been surreal? Maybe even supernatural?” He asked.

She gave him a curious look, and spoke a little slower. “No...well,” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Yes, actually. There was a human there, and he spoke to me several times.”

He gave a hesitant glance towards Luna, who stared at him with a neutral expression. “And, this human....” He said, turning back to the patient. “What was he like?”

Tulip made grabbed her water, and took another gulp, before setting it down again. “W-Well...” She started. “He was rude. He kept threatening everypony that didn't do what he told them to, and he stole from everypony.” She took a breath. “And I mean everypony. And when the city started breaking apart, he threw ponies into pools of lava, screaming that the gods wanted blood. Near the end of the nightmare, we found out the gods were trying to kill him.”

He nodded, keeping his mind focused on the image she was presenting. When she was done, Kestral stared on for a moment, not sure what to make of it. “Thank you for your time.” He said, still not sure what he was supposed to gain from the story. He turned to Luna, and spoke. “Is that all you wished for me to know, your majesty?”

“Yes, but we still have some subjects to discuss.” She said, and turned to Tulip. “Thank you for your time, miss. May you have a quick recovery.”

Tulip suppressed a blush and a smile. “I-It's nothing, your majesty.” She said. A second later, she sneezed, coating much of her own body in mucus.

“I can call for a nurse on my way out, if you wish.” Luna said, smiling warmly at the mare.

“I-It's okay.” She said, grabbing a box next to her water. “I have some tissues. Thank you, though.”

“Fare well, then.” She said, turning towards the door. She gestured towards Kestral, letting him know to follow.

He did, exiting the bright room. Luna led the way, taking one slow step after another through the hall. The guards that were at the room followed them, each one stealing a glance at Kestral every so often. The four walked together in silence, reaching a set of stairs behind the reception desk. They ascended, with each of their steps clacking loudly against the floor. They went up a second stairway, then a third. At the top of the third, they were met with a broad door, halting their progress.

Luna made some kind of gesture with her hoof, signaling for the pair of guards to stop at the door. They did, taking their stance, and watched Luna and Kestral walk through. Luna closed the door with her magic, and sent a thin bubble of her own aura around them. Once it was sealed, it thinned out until it was only barely visible against the night sky.

They stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the peace, for the most part. At least, that's what it appeared to be like at the time. In truth, they both had their minds set on what the mare had said, in some way. Kestral didn't think too much of it. The changelings were trying to form a bad image of him, so what? Did that somehow change things? Wasn't he already in the nightmares of many? The general population seemed to fear him, at least. Of course, he had met exceptions from the rule, but it was safe to assume he was a pariah of sorts.

He looked over at Luna, who had taken her attention to the sky. He followed her sight, and spotted a meteor shower extending across the distant sky. With a glowing horn and a twist of her head, a new shower began carving shapes with its light. She smiled contentedly, and looked at him. “Do you know why I asked you here?” She paused. “The hospital, I mean.”

He stayed silent for a moment, poking at the thin layer of magic that surrounded them. It was an odd, tingly feeling, but was supposedly how magic always felt in a neutral form. “To listen to the mare's story, for one.” He said. “Though, I don't understand why you wanted it brought to my attention. Most ponies already fear me, and most of anyone else don't care for me either.”

She sighed, as if his words had given her some form of grief. “I didn't bring you here to repeat what we already know.” She said, dragging out a more casual attitude. “The reason I asked for you to listen to it here is because I wasn't there to help the dream myself.”

Kestral held still for a moment, realizing what those words implied. “You weren't able to find it?” He asked.

“Nay. I was unable to see it through my own power.” She said.

He nodded, as uncomfortable as it was. “So, now we think they're somehow blocking you from entering their captive's dreams.”

“We know they are.” She said. She looked off into the horizon, giving a loud huff. She closed her eyes a moment, then brought her attention back to him. “But that isn't the only thing. She said that the human was the subject of her nightmares, correct?”

He nodded.

“She wasn't alone in that matter.” She said, furrowing her eyebrows. “Of the patients that I had managed to speak to, both in the waking world and in the sleeping one, all of their nightmares had been manufactured to paint a single human in terrible lighting.” She paused. “From the primal, to the extremely forethought, everything in each one pointed to the human being the cause. Genocide, Armageddon, global enslavement, mass rape; You name it, and their slumber has seen it.”

Kestral folded up his arms, taking a moment to himself to mull it over. “So the changelings are trying to brainwash the victims?” He asked. “Considering how bad humans are portrayed in most contexts, I feel they aren't too far from their goal already.”

“I'm not certain that complete control is their goal, in this matter at least.” She said. “I feel that is too far from their reach. Instead, I believe their goal is to incite more fear, and sow the seeds of chaos. It would help them in some aspects.”

“But it would be counter-productive in others.” He said. “I'm sure if chaos is their goal, then they don't know of Discord's hand in this.”

She held a firm gaze at him, though it held no hostile intent. “Either way, you should understand our discontent with Discord even being capable of using magic from his imprisonment.” She said. “If at all possible, we would be most pleased if we could prevent from expanding his power.”

He stayed silent for a moment. “I understand that you know Discord differently than I do.” He said slowly. “But I have yet to see malicious intent from him towards anyone that didn't deserve it. Not to mention that any prank he wants me to play is crude at worst.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Should I assume that you were the one who painted Sister's room with pheromones? And threw cherries and liquid chocolate in my face?”

He furrowed his own eyebrows, not that she could see behind the mask. “Yes and no, in that order. Did he really throw chocolate in your face?”

“He did.” She deadpanned.

Kestral shook his head. “Anyways.” He paused. “Are we sure it's chaos they want? It might just be something more specific.”

Luna shook her head slowly. “We have little evidence on what they actually want, but chaos tends to always work in the favor of subversive elements.” She said. “And that is another reason I wanted your help tonight.”

He tilted his head. “What reason?” He asked.

“To find their objective.” She said. “In the raids we committed after Lieutenant Carbon's death, we secured one entire squad of enemy combatants. Since this is an unofficial war, however, we legally have to try them criminally, rather than militarily.” She paused, leaning her head slightly. “Which has, unfortunately, led to the circumstance that we cannot interrogate them as combatants.”

“So you want me to walk in and do it for you.” He said, at which she nodded. “Why not declare war, then? Throw martial law into the mix?”

“Martial law wouldn't help anything.” She said. “We'd still need warrants to search anything, and everypony would become irate over it.”

He huffed. “And they're not irate over having murderous changelings among them?”

“I can only make so many speeches.” She said. “But when the nobility want to ignore something, they ignore it, and there are more nobles in this city than any other.”

He nodded. “Yeah, but you'd think the lower classes would be more caring.” He said.

She shrugged. “Perhaps we will find out at some point, but I feel it is unimportant at the time being.” She said. “So, do you agree to interrogate the enemies? I understand if you might not want to.”

He paused, and looked up, trying to clear his head and think it over. On one hand, they were already captured, and didn't really pose a threat to anyone at the time. On the other, he could kick their asses and scare them stiff.

…..yeah, there wasn't really a 'choice'.....

“Sure.” He said nonchalantly. “Though, I don't want to leave any permanent damage. Are you guys into water-boarding?”

She tilted her head again, giving an inquisitive look. “Is that a form of torture?” She asked.

“Yeah, but it doesn't leave too much physically, depending on how it's performed. All the real damage is psychological.” He said.

She put a hoof against her chin in thought. “Well, that will be useful.” She said. “If you can manage to leave no trace on them, then few will ever believe you were there. Now...” She paused, leaning in a bit. “... before we begin, I need you to tell me everything you need.”

He thought for a moment, and began moving his hands in a way that made them appear to be synchronized with his words.

“Okay.” He started. “First, I'm going to need a small vat, a washcloth, some buckets, and some water......”

A shadow moved along the ground, shifting around until it found itself merged with the shadow of a table. It danced and flickered opposite of the fire that created it from the other side of the room. A guard with as much fat as she had armor walked by, a skeleton key clanking against her thigh. She stopped at the doorway, listening for any sign of trouble from the prisoners. Her faced aimed straight out the doorway, and the shadow felt it was safe to move, so it did.

The dark mist against the ground unbound itself from the fellow shadow, and thrust itself across the ground, away from the mare. It slid underneath the door, into a corridor of mostly empty prison cells. It passed by two dozen of them, with only two prisoners to show for the hall, before it made a turn at the end. It shot down another corridor, whisking by any prisoners. One happened to spot it, and made an exclamation loud enough for anyone paying attention to hear.

“Did anypony see that?” She said.

The shadow snapped to the shadow of a guard walking down the hall. It bound to the darkness in the nick of time, as the guard shifted his sight backwards, and began looking for anything suspicious. He turned around, and began walking the other way, and the shadow stripped away. It sped down the hall, and made a final turn into a much shorter hall. Only six doors were present, with each of them having wide berth from eachother. The shadow flew down to the last door, which completely solid wood, rather than barred with metal like the rest of the cells.

The shadow slid under the door, and entered a small sliver of the room that was cut off by a solid wall of blue-tinted magic. It glowed eerily, providing only enough light to allow shallow sight, and no more. The dark mist stopped there, and puffed out into the air, taking shape. It split into two forms, one quadruped, and the other biped. The mist contracted, taking far more detailed shape in a matter of seconds. Before long, an alicorn and a human were both standing there.

“... my stomach doesn't feel too well...”

Well, one was standing. The other was heaved over, trying to hold back his dinner.

“Doth thou....Do you need some assistance?” She asked. “Many herbal teas act as an agent against nausea.”

“No.” He said, regaining his composure, though at a slow rate. “I'm fine. Just.... not used to that. Very disorienting.” He suppressed a cough, not wanting anyone in the hall to hear him. He took off his mask, and placed it on the ground. A few seconds later, it was joined by his robe, leaving him in his slim, leather armor. He looked down at Luna, once he stood straight. “I'm ready.” He said.

She nodded. “You'll have about an hour and a half before I come back. Any longer will raise suspicion.” She pointed to the wall of light. “The field will keep sound from traveling outside, and the door is magically locked, in case of a guard wanting in here.”

“Okay.” He said. “Anything else I should know before I start?”

She shook her head. “Just try not to leave proof that you did anything. Few will raise questions at their words, but sudden, inexplicable wounds are a different story.”

“Don't worry.” He said, waving it off. “I already have some ideas in mind.”

She gave a final huff, albeit it seemed to not be directed at him. “Very well. I shall return soon. I hope you are successful to this end.”

Before he could get another word in, Luna had disappeared into another cloud of mist, flowing away along the ground.

Kestral turned to the wall of magic, staring idly. He moved his hands over his chest, checking for various objects that he had stashed on him. When he was satisfied, he walked through the magic wall, putting on a neutral expression. The magic fizzled over his skin as he entered the field. Light poured over him from above, and a sudden stench of sweat with a hint of urine filled his nose.

To his right, lined up against the wall, was the six changelings. They were blindfolded, gagged, and were tied to metallic skeletons that completely prevented any movement, even with their wings. Along the left was was a long table, covered in various materials that he had asked Luna for. On the back wall was a furnace, with plenty of coal, and several iron rods. In the center of the room was a low table, with clamps reaching up on the side, and a handle on the side.

He walked towards the row of captures soldiers, and picked up the closest one. He hoisted the prisoner by the metal bars, groaned softly at the weight, and walked over to the table in the center. He lifted up, and turned the changeling over onto his back. He lined up the metal bars, and closed the clamps, leaving the changeling hanging just over the table, with his wings jutting straight out the side.

To the prisoners' credit, they didn't seem to be worried. There wasn't any panicked breathing, or muffled attempts to speak.... yet, at least.

He walked to the table, and looked over his tools. Where was he to begin? Sure, he had the whole table to work with, but he needed something to start it off. Something that really showed them that he meant serious business. What to choose.....

He grabbed a single pill that was set near the edge, along with a pair of bouncy balls with flayed strings attached. The two objects that were otherwise toys were painted up to look flesh-like, and were covered in green liquid. Then, he grabbed a jar of more green liquid. He placed the two toys and the jar on the table in the center. He went back to the tools, and grabbed a large wooden box, and set it just under the changeling, so it blocked the previously mentioned tools he picked out.

He walked to the furnace, and grabbed a bag of coal. He dumped it into the pile of ash, and sprinkled some kind of oil from a small, metal canister. He set the fuels alight with his magic, and watched it settle down. He put one of the fire irons in, though it was completely flat at the opposite end.

He turned around, and walked to the nearest changeling. He looked at the one on the table to see if the angle was as he wanted, which it wasn't. He began moving the changelings, scooting them over until they were forward of the one in the center of the room. He checked the angle, and nodded in approval.

He took off one of the changelings' blindfold, then the gag. The changeling looked at him in what appeared to be surprise, but it was difficult to tell. He continued with the next, and the next, with each one staying silent as he did. One of them tried to bite his finger, but he pulled away fast enough, and simply flicked him on the horn, disorienting the bug somewhat.

He moved to the center of the room, and did the same to the changeling there. He smiled, and moved to the other side of the prisoner from his friends. He smiled at all of them, spreading his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “Hello, sirs.” He said. “I welcome you to this special place of mine.”

They stayed silent, staring on at him with something that wasn't neutral, but he couldn't quite tell what it was.

“Well, there's no need for sealed lips.” He said, acting offended. “We're all friends here, in the depths of hell, aren't we?”

“We'd rather take no quarter from a demon.” One of them said. It was the one all the way to the right.

“.... where's 'hell'....?” The one at the end, a more..... 'petite' one, said. A groan from the previous changeling echoed out, causing the dissident one to flick his ear.

“An afterlife... or perhaps a dream.” He said poetically, matching it with a pose. “It does not matter, really. Here, we will do what we can to pull out any little information we want.”

“Good luck.” Said the soldier at the right. “Changelings don't break easy.”

“Oh, I know that.” Kestral said, waving his hand around like he already knew everything. “A very tough chitin exterior, you all have. Very useful against physical trauma, but not that helpful when you can't move.”

They studied him intently as he moved around until he was at the rear of the changeling on the table. “You see,” He paused. “With all that armor, there still exists a weak spot.” He looked at them with the half-lidded eyes of a properly developed sociopath. “I'm sure you all know what that is.” He slammed his hands against the bug's legs, who flinched what little distance he could when he felt the human's hands clamp on his chitin. Kestral looked over at the group along the wall. “Now that I think about it, I haven't had mountain oysters in a while....” He smiled evilly.

“You wouldn't dare.” The changeling said. “We know you're working for the guard. Removing organs is strictly prohibited.”

“Really?” He asked, tilting his head. “And how do you really know I'm working for them?” He asked. As he did, he grabbed the pill from the table, and put it in his mouth, just behind his teeth.

“Because this is their dungeon, obviously.” The changeling said, trying to establish some kind of intellectual dominance.

Kestral nodded, as if accepting that he was, indeed, on the guard's payroll. He walked around to the front of the changeling on the table, crouching down to look at the bug's face eye-level. He hummed a tune, pretending to study the face of the changeling, and feigned intrigue. “Do you mind if I look at your teeth?” He asked, moving the pill around so it wouldn't obstruct his tongue.

The changeling complied, if only because he was planning on biting Kestral's finger off at some point. He looked right at the throat, then set the pill in his mouth just right.

P-tew

“Ach! Ah! What the fuck!” The changeling coughed out, not sure what had happened.

Kestral smiled at him, stood up, and walked around to the table of tools. “I wouldn't worry about that little pill you swallowed.” He grabbed a cupcake from the table, which was quite out of place, considering it was among other tools of bloody torture. He turned, and went back in front of the changeling. He knelt down, and held the cupcake in front of him. “Now, since you are such a good changeling, I figured you deserve a reward. Do you like chocolate and strawberry?” He asked, holding the pink-frosted pastry in front of him.

“I'd rather not.” The bug said, keeping suspicious eyes on the human.

“A shame.” Kestral said, putting the cupcake on the ground, making sure the wax paper protected the base of it properly. He looked at the bug for a moment, then came to a conclusion. “My lord! I haven't even asked for your names, have I?” He asked. “My apologies. Please, tell me what your names are.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“I'm Dick.”

“...”

“Well, it's good to know that you all love sticking with family, since five of you have the same surname.” He said.

“We're all brothers.” The leading changeling said proudly. “The extent of our family knows no bounds.”

“Wonderful!” Kestral proclaimed. “But, I wonder, if everyone is your brother, then does said status begin to lose its meaning?” He walked around back in front of the upside-down changeling, and looked him over again. He seemed normal, except that there was now a thin line of drool streaming down from his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” The lead changeling asked.

Kestral ignored him, and instead paid attention to the bug in front of him. He didn't move for several minutes, just staring at the bug, watching the drool begin to pool, until he saw that the bug's head was lulling to the side. As much as it could, anyways. He grabbed the cupcake from the ground again, and held it before the changeling. “For example.” He said, holding it just out of reach from the bug. “I'm betting that you, my friend, are quite hungry right now.”

The bug picked his head up, and nodded gently, as if he was lost in some kind of trance.

“Well, it's no wonder!” He said, feigning sympathy. “You've been here for days! Wouldn't it feel great to have this token of our friendship? To feel my platonic love for you?”

The bug stared for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

“Don't listen to him, Dick! He's trying to get you to betray us! It's not worth it!”

The calls for denial echoed on, but the changeling named Dick wasn't paying attention.

“What did you do it him?” The leading changeling asked, silencing the others.

“Oh, I fed him a mix of suppressant and stimulant.” He said. In reality, he had asked Luna if she could whip up a sugar pill that was enchanted. Surprisingly, she fulfilled his request to the letter; The pill stimulated hunger, and made the changeling sleepy. There were bound to be at least a few other side effects, though, she had explained. It made him wonder if she use to study magic much more avidly in her past.

“Anyways.” He said, turning his attention to the changeling in front of him. “Since you're such a good friend, I was hoping if you could tell me about your family.”

The bug licked his lips, and nodded.

“Great!” He said, scratching the changeling's armored neck. “Now, where can I find your queen?”

The bug opened his mouth, but was cut off.

“Don't you dare answer that one, Dick!” The leading changeling yelled. “You'll betray the hive!”

The poor bug muttered incoherently, seemingly split between his wants. He fidgeted between his hunger and his loyalty. In the end, though, it seemed his loyalty won over, and he closed his eyes and pursed his lips, like a child trying to ignore everything.

“See?” The leading changeling asked triumphantly. “Blood is thicker than water, and our blood is thicker than all others!”

“Maybe.” Kestral said, putting the cupcake down again. “But. I think I have to assume that this one is experiencing some side effects of that pill.” He paused. “Still, though. I cannot leave him without some kind of punishment.”

He picked up the cupcake, and removed the wax, grabbing the bug's attention. Once the bug was looking at him, he fed the cupcake to the poor guy, slowly, almost sensually, from an outsider's perspective. When the bug was done, Kestral moved around the side, and stood behind the spot where the tools he had set up were. He grabbed a small saw and held it up, looking at it with fake interest.

“You know,” He started, opening the jar of fake blood. “I must ask. Do you all even know what mountain oysters are?”

They didn't answer, so he continued setting up. He levitated the jar of liquid behind the bug's leg, hiding it from the rest of the prisoners, followed by the two bouncy balls. He reached a hand in one of his chest pockets, and pulled out a paper-wrapped object, making sure the changelings couldn't see him do it. He unwrapped it, revealing a stringy, flayed piece of flesh. He dipped it in the fake blood, and levitated it as well.

“Okay, since you guys aren't answering, I'll just tell you.” He moved the saw down between the changeling's legs.

“They're bull testicles.”

With more drama than a teenage schoolgirl, Kestral whipped the saw to the side. He threw the piece of flesh to the side, making it splatter on the ground, smearing fake blood on the floor.

The changelings looked at him in no lack of true surprise, given how several had open mouths. The smallest one was actually shaking in fear. Just to top it off, he leaned down a bit, took a big whiff, and looked over at them. “To be honest, they're best when they're still warm.”

The comment sent one of the underlings over the edge, and he ejected a small amount of vomit. He must have swallowed the rest, because it only dribbled out.

He dropped the saw, letting it clatter against the floor, and reached a hand between the changeling's legs again, giving a wide smile to the other changelings. “Your friend won't really be needing these, will he?”

He covered his hand and the bouncy balls with the fake blood, and yanked out. He sent out the blood from the jar, spraying it all over the floor towards the furnace. He dangled the fake 'twins' for a moment, before he chucked them into the fire, making sure they saw just a glimpse. When he was done, he snuck the jar back behind the tool set, keeping it out of sight.

He walked around, going towards the five changelings against the wall. “It's a real shame that your friend here is too drugged to know what pain his body he's in.” He leaned down the the last one in the line, the apparent leader of the group. He held his bloody-looking hand against the bug's face, seemingly in a benign -nay, comforting- fashion. “Maybe I could have one of you volunteer? I'm doing you a favor, after all. I'm removing the only weakness in that chitin armor of yours.”

The bug in front of him didn't say a word. One of them down the line had his nausea renewed, and released a torrent of green goop and chunks of... something.

Still. He was on a time table. He needed to start getting answers.

“Tell me.” He said plainly. “Why exactly is your prince after Canterlot?”

They all stayed silent, barring the heavy breathing of a few of them. He waited a good moment, acting as if he was patient.

“You know, I can remove all of the testicles in this room, if necessary.”

“Your torture method is flawed.” The one before his said.

“Oh, is it, now?” He asked. “Good to know my doctorate was a waste.”

“You honestly think we'll break like this? We live for the opportunity to show our loyalty to the queen.”

“Excellent. But, I'm sure you weren't thinking the same when Chrysalis was in charge.” He said tauntingly.

“She died!” The bug hissed. “She abandoned us! What were we to do?!”

Aha! This is something I can use. Kestral thought, taking note of the sudden change in character. “And tell me.” He said. “Are you saying that she's not your leader because she could do nothing for you?” He asked, smiling.

“That is exactly what I am saying.” He spat. “And go ahead and tell that to her bastard-spawn, Dagon! He's naught but cowardice under those scales!”

Who the hell is Dagon? He thought. He stowed the question for later.

“Well.” He said, standing up. He walked to the half-conscious changeling in the center, and unclamped the bars. “I guess that must make you a pretty good leader, then, being here for your fellow soldiers and such.” He turned the changeling over, making sure not to expose the fact that he had done nothing harmful to him. “But, then again,” He said, picking up the prisoner. He moved him to the end of the line, next to the smallest of the group. “that wasn't your choice, was it? You're here with your brothers because the circumstances were simply that way, and not because you feel any special attachment.”

“I'm here with my brothers because I've stayed by their side all this time. The circumstances are the sum of my choices, and I chose to remain with them.” He said, reaffirming his stance.

“Truly?” He asked.

“Truly.” The leading changeling said.

Kestral shrugged, casually walking in front of the five conscious changelings. “Then how about this?” He asked. “I won't torture you. Promise. But,” He said, looking over the others. “I will only accept information from you, while your comrades get tortured. I'll only stop laying waste to them, when you start talking.”

The changeling stared blankly at him, refusing to give an edge.

The human walked up to the second changeling in the line, the one next to the leader. He picked the bug up by his cage, and carried him over to the table. Like the previous bug, he turned him over, and clamped the metal bars. He turned the small handle at the side of the table, making the table tilt back so that the bug's head was lower than the rest of his body. He grabbed a vat, and slid it under the table, at the end. He grabbed one of the pitchers of water that were on the table, along with a washcloth, and moved to position. He almost started, but when he placed the washcloth on the bug's mouth, he realized his head was leaning too far back.

He shrugged, and grabbed the thin rope that tied his head in place. He untied it, releasing the bug. “There you go.” He said. “Feel better?”

He didn't say anything, but the changeling certain enjoyed stretching his neck muscles. He allowed another minute, before grabbing the bug's horn, and forcing it upwards, so he was facing the ceiling's edge. “Just remember,” He said, turning to the leader. “When you have something to say, I'll listen.” He turned to the changeling before him. “Ready?”

“No.” The bug said, through the cloth.

“Good.”

Kestral began dumping water over his facing, and the bug reacted as expected; Thrashing his head about and coughing worse than a forty-year smoker. He continued until all the water from the pitcher emptied, then grabbed another. He gave the changeling a few good breaths in, then poured again. The bug tried to whip his head side to side, in an effort to flick off the cloth. Right as he put down the second pitcher, the changeling cried out.

“I -cough- I give up!”

Kestral was confused for a second, then pealed off the cloth. “Say that again?” He asked.

“I give up! I don't want to deal with this!”

“Don't do it! That's treas-” The leader said.

“Sargent, fuck you.” The changeling in front of him said. “I'm not going to drown for nothing.”

“Your queen will-”

“Will what?” He asked. “Come beat me up? Punish me? Fuck you, Sarge. Fuck you with a brick. If she can reach us, why aren't we out? Because she can't, or won't. Don't feed me that 'you must be loyal to your queen' crap either. Krystal probably doesn't even know we're here, let alone actually cares. If we had Chrysalis in this mess, she'd be working on a way to get us out and already have us out. Krystal can't find herself to give a shit. And don't say 'oooh, no, she's still adjusting'. That's crap. She's in it to mark herself as something important and nothing else. She's been pampered all her life, and has never been in a single operation.”

“And you know what?” The bug continued on, with everyone else in the room just staring at him. “When we got booted out after Chrysalis came back, that hurt. A lot. There are brothers I can never look in the eye again, because I chose wrong. If Krystal was a good leader, that would have stopped. But it didn't, because not only did I choose wrong, I chose badly. Krystal is nothing like Chrysalis. And you know what? Since getting ejected from the old hive, being arrested has been the best damn thing to happen to me. I can whore myself out to any mare in here, any time I feel like it, without even disguising myself. It ought to be a crime to be loved less by our queen than a random group of thugs. So you know what? Fuck you. I'm not following Krystal anymore. You can if you want, but that's on you.”

The changeling was panting lightly, staring at the other changeling with no lack of anger and frustration. The tense air held for a moment, before Kestral went over to the table, and grabbed a long scroll, and a pencil. He set them down, and began releasing the clamps. He picked up the changeling, and rolled him over, setting him on his hooves. He grabbed the handle at the table, and turned it until it was level again. When that was all done, he readied the paper and pencil, and looked at the changeling.

“Where do you want me to start?” The bug asked, apparently eager to get it over with.

“The current attack on Canterlot.” He said. “How many changelings from your hive were sent here?”

“Seventy-five, but most of the other changeling's don't know the number. Three are lieutenants, and each had twenty-four under their command.”

“Are there any plans or contingencies for reinforcements.”

“None that I'm aware of, but Parody is very much capable of sending more changelings as needed.”

“Is Parody your Prince?”

“Former, yes.”

“And Krystal is your new Queen?”

“Former, yes.”

“What are the names of the lieutenants?”

“Carbon, Chip, and Clone.”

“Which of them was your commanding officer?”

“Chip.”

“Do you know of any plans to kill or terrorize the populace?”

“The end goal is to have Celestia's head through an assassination.”

“Just Celestia? No one else?”

“Anyone who gets in their way, of course. You already thwarted the Ponyville mission, to kill the element bearers, but that was secondary to Canterlot.”

“Okay.” Kestral said, catching up with his writing. “Why kill the bearers?”

“They're the bearers of the most powerful magical artifacts in Equestria's arsenal. Without them, there is little the guard can do against changelings without turning their own country upside down.”

“Why kill Celestia?”

“... I don't know that one.” He admitted. “One of the lieutenants might know, if you can find them. I just know that it was our goal.”

He nodded. “Why only Celestia? Why not Luna?”

“Killing them both would lead to either eternal day or eternal night. Parody is ambitious, not suicidal.”

“What is the date of the assassination?”

“Whenever the infiltrators can find a way to kill her without a chance of failure, and without having blame fall on the changeling race.”

“Do you know the mode of the assassination?”

“No.”

“Do you know who any of the changelings are disguised as currently?”

“Chip and his squad were meant to take over the Talon residence, in the noble district, after the recent shift. That is all I know.”

“Is there a place where any of the changelings meet routinely?”

“Only at the occupied houses. There isn't a meeting place outside of there until it's necessary for a mission.”

“Are there any plans to bribe, blackmail, or otherwise manipulate someone in the populace?”

“I'm sure there are, but our group only deals with scouting information. We've bought pieces from a number of guards, and a few civilians.”

“What information did you buy?”

“Patrol times and numbers, mostly. Some of it was anything the guards knew about a target we wanted to impersonate, or to steal from. All the information we got was lost to the guards again in the raid.”

“Can you name any guards that sold information?”

“No. But I can name a few dates and times.”

“What are they?”

“The intersection of Main and Copper, this past Tuesday, at six P.M. and again at seven-thirty. The next one was Wednesday, at the currency exchange, about ten A.M. Thursday I was at the south end of main, about six P.M.”

He nodded, catching up again. “If you were to guess, what was the information to be used for?”

“Home invasion, theft, and bribery, respectfully.”

“Do you know anything about the nightmares that the victims have been having while captured by the changelings?”

“I know that we had just started it when we got captured ourselves. It was an indefinite order, so it will continue until ordered to stop.”

“Do you know anything about the actual process? Is it magical? Or is it induced by chemical influence?”

“Magical. I know we can create the subject of it, but that's as far as we can control.”

“How does the spell block outside onlookers from noticing the dream?”

The changeling paused for a moment, staring at him. “The spell is irrelevant to that. The pods block non-changeling influence.”

“The pods; Why are the victims rotting away in them?”

“We use a spell that infuses a small amount of DNA from the target to the changeling over the course of a couple hours. It takes a small but noticeable about for each attempt. The DNA stays attached to the surface of the body, along with some of the target's stolen mana. The combination fools any magical attempt to identify the changeling.”

“The victims that are imprisoned for weeks show no signs of malnourishment. Can you explain this?”

“We fed them while in the pods. We threw food into a pod, and it forces nutrients in through large-scale osmosis.”

“Okay. Now, what's the doctrine on-”

PING

Kestral looked back at the while wall again, realizing the loud sound had come from there. He rolled the scroll up, and put the pencil down. He stood up, giving a smile to each of the prisoners while backing away slowly. “Well, gentlemen, it seems that's all the time we have today. I'll talk to who I can to make sure we can all have this adventure next week.” He kept countering their stares as he crossed the foggy wall. At his side was Luna, who looked at him expectantly. “You called?” He asked.

“Did you get any information?” She asked, spotting the scroll.

“I did.” He said, handing it over. “But he gave an awful lot at once, had a sob story, and broke under the water-boarding pretty quickly. Not to mention his squad leader was nice an patient through the divulging of information.”

“You suspect it was practiced?” She asked, going over the brief answers.

“I suspect we're being fed information. It could all be lies, or half-truths, or the whole truth; I'm not sure. But it's suspicious.”

“I'll have to look over anything he said myself, then. Don't let Hunter get involved. We can't let him get tied to anything.”

“That's another thing.” Kestral said, sighing. “They heavily suspect that I'm working directly for the guard.”

“Did they explain why?” She asked, taking concern for a moment.

“No.” He said. “They just said they know. They never said which guard, though.” He paused for a moment, then looked down at the ground. He leaned down, and grabbed the robe and the mask. He put on the leather robe, but was hesitant for a moment afterward. “You know....” He started. “I'm not really sure I'm cut out for this part.”

Luna looked at him with a bout of concern, as if she detected some kind of cause for it. “Might I ask what you mean?” She asked.

“The...” He paused again. “The torture, I mean. I tried to act out the whole 'psychotic doctor' role that seems to scare people, but I don't know. Even if I didn't do anything permanent....” He looked up at Luna. “It just doesn't feel right.”

Luna shrugged, though he could tell there was more emotion in it that a normal shrug. “If you're a good person, then it never will. But it's necessary.” She paused. “....is there more you'd like to say on the matter?”

“Hmm?” He asked. “Um, no. Not right now.” He trailed off. “Do you have anything of use?”

“Oh, definitely.” She said. “I'll have to look them over myself, of course, but I think this will be a good start.”

“Good, good.” He said. “Sooooo..... am I done here?” He asked.

Luna looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but didn't seem to bother questioning his sudden rush to leave.

“Sure.” She said. “Just give me a moment.”

Luna's horn lit up, and the wall of light pressed away from them. It expanded outward, until it warped and wrapped itself around the changelings in the room. The blindfolds and gags went on next, simultaneously putting the changelings back just as Kestral had found them.

Before a word, or even a though, Luna's horned flashed out in a bright light, consuming them both as gravity broke away. Kestral, in a panic, made his mask disappear into mist, before forcing it to reappear over his head. As he landed on the ground, he threw the hood over, hoping Luna didn't see what he had done.

They landed, of course, but it wasn't on the flat roof of the hospital. Instead, they landed on the bumpy cobblestone of an alleyway. Kestral shook off any wooziness from the teleport, before scraping off all the moldy trash he had teleported into. Luna looked at him, giving a curt nod. “Before you go off.” She said, giving a warm smile. “Tell Navi I said hello.”

Before he could ask to repeat what she said, the princess disappeared in another flash of light, presumably to keep prying eyes at bay. He shrugged it off, and looked around in the dark night. He walked towards the end of the short alley between two small mansions, and realized exactly where he was; He was at the Winterhoofs' home.

Luna. He thought. You're too good to me.