The spire rose high into the sky in the center of the great Equestrian Badlands, once a prosperous farmland south of Ponyville, till thermo magical balefire scorched it black. The spire was a greenish-black in color, studded with small boltholes- some big enough for ponies to move in and out of, and others just large enough for firearms and crossbows to be pointed through. Of course, with the spire rivalling the size of Manehatten’s old skyscrapers, it had attracted notice. For almost a year now, Caribou artillery batteries, sporting large forty-pound cannons, had circled the spire, hammering the tough exoskeleton. The Caribou weren’t sure exactly what was inside, only that it was a threat- all ground attacks had been met with hails of bullets and crossbow bolts, so they had slowly grown into a lax routine.

Shell in the morning. Shell in the afternoon. Rest overnight. Rinse and repeat. And so hard was the gaze of the Caribou commander focused on the tough nut he had been ordered to crack, he hardly noticed the undead horde bearing down on his position till the Ferse-hooves began firing. At Ponyville, more Ferse-hoof guns had been found in storage, ironically stuffed in Twilight’s old basement-turned-weapons storage room. Combined with the ammunition kept with them, it had given Twilight’s fledgling military a powerful new weapon.

Placed atop the captured and re-made Caribou battlewagons, ponies snarled and cheered as they cranked the automatic weapons, firing heavy slug after heavy slug into the stunned Caribou artllerybucks. Rushing in behind them, ponies armored in steel plates and painted black roared in fury, spears and hoof-blades hacking into Caribou flesh. Twilight stood among them, and allowed herself a chance to delve into the fury of battle. Horn glowing and gleaming beneath its armored sheath, she tossed her head, mana-blades beheading and eviscerating each Caribou she came across, hardly bothering to wipe away the blood that fountained across her armor. Made by thankful pony crafters and smiths, the purple-black plate covered Twilight’s entire body, and lined the edges of her wings in razor-sharp, folded steel. Her helm slid over her eyes and muzzle, only letting the gleaming red of her eyes gleam out. It left the visage of a warrior-Empress clear to all, and Twilight was more than fine with that. These Caribou had to die.

But her attention was also somewhat divided, one eye watching a cream-colored mare to her right closely. Bon Bon had been one of Ponyville’s candymakers back during the Utopian Days, and a fairly close friend of Twilight’s. (Blame her sweet tooth.) On that day, the candymaker was a warrior, dressed down in the hammered plates of the army, a saddle-attached billhook slicing through Caribou necks with a near-fanatical zeal. After all, these monsters had her Lyra. They had stolen her away during the invasion of Equestria, and they had not found her body among the Forest. Nor was she among the survivors in Canterlot Caverns. So that only left her a prisoner of the Caribou. Or did it? Twilight had suspicions otherwise. Suspicions of strange magics she had sensed back in the old days, secret flights of a strange creature from Bon Bon’s home…

Soon…
**********************

The battle ended quickly enough, with the Caribou artillerybucks and their supporting ground troops falling quickly to the withering Ferse-hoof fire and the blades of vengeful ponies. Their bodies were stripped of weapons, ammunition, and rations before being dumped in a massive pile for burning. Their cannons, of course, would go to great use. And luckily enough for Twilight Sparkle, the battle had caught the attention of the inhabitants of the spire. Blue, glittering eyes peered down from every bolt hole, and Twilight’s perked ears could catch the buzzing of many insectoid wings. Behind her, Twilight’s army stirred as a great black and green host of changelings winged into the skies, chitin gleaming in the twilight. Worried, ruby eyes turned to Twilight questioningly, but their Empress merely shook her head. The changelings were not their enemies today.

A small detachment of the swarm broke away, flying down towards Twilight and the head of the pony horde. To Twilight’s magically enhanced sight. the lead changeling- undoubtedly the Queen- practically gleamed with Love energy, tendrils of it running back towards her Hive. Survivors inside, perhaps? With a force of will, Twilight changed her sight back to color, and she finally smiled.

Knew it.

The Changeling Queen was tall and majestic, managing a more regal air than that of Chrysalis. A chitin crown rested just behind her straight, gleaming horn. Golden, slitted eyes peered down at the ponies with hesitance, and she was armored in a form of green-tinged chitin. Settling down on the blood-soaked ground, the Queen glared suspiciously at the armored, hidden visage of the Empress, wings spread to take flight again in a hurry.

“Who are you?” she demanded, voice undulating the unique form of changelings, “Why have you come to-”

Thunk.

Twilight shook her shimmering mane free as she let the helmet drop away, smiling warmly at the Changeling. The Queen froze mid-question, golden eyes widening and fanged maw slowly dropping in her astonishment. Far above, many changelings chittered and buzzed in awe and excitement, others in abject fear.

“Tw… twilight?” the Queen whispered, “It’s…. r-really you?”

“It’s really me. It’s good to see you again… Lyra.”

Lyra Heartstrings visibly winced, tears brewing in her eyes as a green fire consumed her changeling body. A slender, mint-green unicorn took her place; her coat and mane were in tatters, covered by the dust and debris from the last day she had worn the disguise. Her hooves were soaked in the blood of-

“L...ly...lyra?”

Bon Bon’s visor was raised as she stumbled from the line of soldiers, many of them stunned at the turn of events. Hundreds from Ponyville knew Lyra well, and others had been big fans of her fabulous lyre and singing voice. Hundreds more knew Lyra Heartstrings, the student at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. The young mare who had died from a horrific fall off the side of the mountain.

“Y-you’re… you’re alive?” Lyra breathed, eyes wide, “B-but you… I h-held your…”

“E-empress Sparkle brought me back,” Bon Bon whispered back, stopping just inches from Lyra, tense and utterly stunned, “Y-you’re a changeling? You’ve.. always… been a changeling?”

Wincing, Lyra peered down at the ground miserably, giving a slow, jerky nod. Nopony dared to breathe; all eyes focusing down on the drama of two mares on the blood-soaked soil. Bon Bon drew in a shaky breath, wiping her eyes slowly.

“Just… a-answer me simply. Y-yes… or no. Did…”

Bon Bon choked back a sob, ears flattening inside her helm.

“W-was it ever real? T-the love?”

But Lyra was quick to respond, voice miserable and scratchy, but full of emotion long held in check by rage and pain.

“Yes.”

Bon Bon moved first; a twitch of her hindquarters, launching her full force into the arms of her sobbing wife; heart-wrenching wails broken by desperate, passionate kisses. Dirt and blood was ignored as they sat on the ground, hugging each other fiercely, unwilling to let the other go, despite the stunned gazes of the two armies. Finally, Twilight Sparkle stepped up to the trembling mares, eyes full of love as she gathered them up in her arms and wings. The cheer that night roared across the empty plains and desert; laced with a deep, powerful magic. Love.

Dark eyes rose towards the south as the tingle washed over its incorporeal form… and it scowled.

Author's Notes:

Another short one. Sorry! They'll get progressively longer, but this is another intro chapter I needed to do for more side stories. :D