Was it normal to be this nervous when going to talk to a machine? Twilight felt like her hooves were made of lead, and each step was an enormous effort of will. The generator was running upstairs, belching occasional clouds of steam and smoke up into the air. She hoped no pegasi were unfortunate enough to be flying over the library today.

She carefully locked the door behind her, then flicked the lights on with her magic and began trundling her way down the stairs. Each step practically shouted on the wood, even though she wasn't wearing horseshoes. She shivered inwardly at that; to think that some ponies hammered nails into their hooves!

Whether it was the noise she made or merely its natural alertness, Truth was already on and waiting for her when she reached floor level. She drew herself up, making herself look as confident as she possibly could. She was a princess of Equestria! She wasn't going to be intimidated by an old metal block. Even if it was a metal block that somehow possessed all the knowledge of an entire species. If that were true, it would mean it had more knowledge of its own world than Celestia had of Equestria. And it was sitting in her basement.

"Hello Truth," she said, stopping a few meters away and nodding in respect. Did machines care if you showed them respect? Twilight did so out of habit more than anything else; she was naturally friendly with everypony.

"Hello, user Twilight Sparkle." Its voice came from no particular opening, echoing off the walls and around the enclosed space. She found herself comparing its voice to that of Queen Chrysalis, though it lacked her maliciousness and anger. "Good afternoon to you."

She started a little at the apparent emotion in its voice. "G-Good afternoon to you, Truth. Do you have time to talk?"

There were no gestures to read, no ears and tail to watch, and no scents to judge. Still, there was something of amusement in the voice she heard. "Affirmative. I exist to serve the needs of my users, Twilight Sparkle. If I did not have time to serve your needs, I would not be fulfilling my purpose."

She took a few moments to take that in. "Am I one of your users, Truth?"

"Affirmative. Administrator Second Chance created an account with your name with the AMBASSADOR flag. I can provide you with any information of HAZARD_3 and below."

"What's above hazard three?"

"Specific instructions for the creation of advanced technology. Modern military tactics and capabilities. Specific personal information of users with the LIVING flag."

"Well, I didn't come to talk about those things." She took a deep breath. "In archeology, we study ancient ponies by reading their books and poems. I would like to learn about your creators by reading some of their books. Chance told me you can translate them into Equestrian, is that true?"

"Affirmative. I can translate any of the non-restricted documents and media files and transmit them to the tablet you are carrying. Which books would you like?"

Twilight considered that for a moment, thinking about the great library in Canterlot and its 50,000 books. No doubt Truth held at least as many, though she did have a little trouble imagining how small they'd have to be to fit in such a small space. "Could I start with the first books you have?"

"The first chronologically?" At her nod, it continued. "Intact records prior to 1600 CE are exceptionally rare. All records, files, and media created prior to 1990 CE account for less than 1% of my database. User Twilight Sparkle should be aware that records from this period do not reflect modern humanity."

She nodded again. "I understand. I wouldn't expect somepony who read the ancient pre-Equestrian epics to think Canterlot was really like that."

There was a moment's hesitation, like a pony carefully considering something. Then it answered, "Very well."

Within the field of her magic, Twilight felt the tablet she had carried down with her start to vibrate, and the screen flashed briefly with light. She moved the screen in front of her, glancing at the list of titles that had appeared there. "You're done translating already?"

"Affirmative."

She looked at the list in disbelief. Truth had no magic, so he couldn't have used a translation spell. On a whim, she opened one of the middle titles from the list and started reading out loud. "Sing, Goddess, Achilles' rage, black and murderous, that cost the Greeks incalculable pain, pitched countless souls of heroes into Hades' dark, and left bodies to rot as feasts for dogs and birds-"

She blinked, nearly stunned by the words alone. Such vividly graphic imagery was not something you would find in modern Equestria... or in many of the ancient works she knew of. Hatred yes, but- Chance had shown her how to use the tablet, so she returned it to the book listing and picked one of the other titles, fearing she would find something similar.

"This is what I heard. At one time the Buddha was staying in the Jeta Grove, near the city of Sravasti. With him there was a community of 1,250 venerable monks and devoted disciples. One day before dawn, the Buddha clothed himself, and along with his disciples took up his alms bowl and entered the city to beg for food door to door, as was his custom."

What? Twilight picked one of the first titles from the list, all curiosity about the translation process gone. "I WILL proclaim to the world the deeds of Gilgamesh. This was the man to whom all things were known; this was the king who knew the countries of the world. He was wise, he saw mysteries and knew secret things, he brought us a tale of the days before the flood. He went on a long journey, was weary, worn-out with labour, returning he rested, he engraved on a stone the whole story."

"The translations are accurate," Truth supplied. "As accurate as possible. Many began in poetic forms that lose some of their meaning, but I provided the most accurate translation possible. There is significant cultural variation between works, and room for subjectivity with the term 'first.' Coupled with the uncertainty of chronology present when dealing with such distant creations, I included the twenty-five earliest works either intact or almost intact."

"And these are complete?" Twilight returned to the first of the titles she had opened, scrolling through to the middle of the story and picking a selection towards the end at random. The text was there, waiting. "There is nothing alive more agonized than man of all that breathe and crawl across the earth." She paused. "I'm not sure I want to read this one." She looked up. "How many of these are depressing?"

"Life was brutal, painful, and short for early humans. Was life in ancient Equestria better, user Twilight Sparkle?"

"I... don't know," she eventually admitted. "Not in Equestria, certainly. But we know very little about what happened before. It's possible life was as difficult for us as it was for you. I suppose... I can see why ponies would be eager to forget. Except for Celestia, nopony remembered the Lunar Rebellion, and that was only a thousand years ago. How old is this story?"

"No scholarly consensus was ever reached for the exact dating of the Iliad. Most agree it dates to at least two and a half thousand years ago. The events it describes, so much as they ever occurred, would have taken place at least three hundred years earlier."

Twilight was silent for a long time, considering her mission. "Could you... add a few more modern records as well? Say, the most popular ten stories from the last hundred years?" Almost before she was done speaking, the screen vibrated, and the list of books got longer.

"User Second Chance anticipated that request, and provided me with the titles to consider. In addition, she instructed I provide a sampling of other multimedia types not existent in Equestria for your consideration."

"Thank you very much, Truth. I may return to you if I have more questions."

"Of course, user Twilight Sparkle." Was that humor in its tone again? "I'll be right here until you need me."

Chance was impressed with Apple Bloom's work. The contest only gave them four days to work, four days to perfect whatever design they chose and refine a plate of it strong enough to support the weight of a pony. They couldn't even begin to guess what the other groups were doing, and neither much cared. They didn't have the unicorn magic necessary to produce or strengthen substances that way, or the pegasus talent for hammering strength from clouds.

Over the last two days of the contest, Chance had been reminded exactly why having no magic had made her miss having hands. It was basically impossible to do anything requiring both strength and precision without somepony else to help.

Luna had been true to her word. Not only had they been allowed to participate, but they'd been granted everything Chance had asked for, including a good portion of the items that hadn't been in inventory and had to be leased from nearby construction sites or chemical laboratories. The hotel had no facilities capable of handling them, so like the few groups in their situation, all their work took place across the street.

Chance looked around their lab, pleased with how things had turned out. The room was about twenty-five meters long and twice that wide, with floors and walls and ceiling of meter-thick concrete. Ventilation came in a constant, blasting gust from iron grates set into the walls. The door was thick steel, heavy enough that it took both of them pushing together to get it open or closed, even with Apple Bloom's immense strength.

And strong she was. Chance hadn't ever had cause to appreciate just how strong earth ponies could be, not until now. Apple Bloom's hooves crushed the thin sheets of bauxite like they were made of styrofoam. It was hard not to be impressed when someone hardly bigger than you were could do the work of a rock crusher without tools. Chance had tried, but had only managed to chip one hoof and almost sprain one of her other legs. Instead, she devoted her time lately to refreshing Apple Bloom's refreshments, and giving her what encouragement she could. This was, of course, because their machine was already built.

"I don't see why we need so much of this stuff." Apple Bloom climbed out of the steel tray, brushing the reddish dust off her hooves before taking the lemonade Chance offered with a fierce thirst. "You said we only need ten kilos to hold up anypony who wants to stand on it, so how come I gotta break so much?"

She tried to look sympathetic. After all, she would've helped if she could've! But without the earth pony's innate magic, she was helpless at this kind of task. "Because only about half of this is going to be alumina when we're done with the first half of the process. Only about half of that is going to end up as metal at the end. So we've got to break about forty kilos for every ten we want at the end. But those ratios were from purpose-built machines, made by experts with lots of resources and years of experience. I figure we'll be lucky if we get half the efficiency. That means about eighty kilos to get the ten we want."

Her friend didn't say anything for a time, enjoying the relief from her hard work. "Ten kilos," Apple Bloom eventually repeated. "If we took home just a few ounces, we wouldn't hafta worry about cider sales this winter. Or anything else."

She shrugged. "I'm sure we'll have some extra. Just sell it fast." Chance paced past the tray, to the huge rotating kiln with its fume hood, currently quiet and disconnected from the massive power outlets in the walls. The lye already waited inside, though of course it hadn't been heated. They would mix it here, before transferring it to the waiting pressure vessel. "Once Equestria catches onto this, it's going to change everything."

Apple Bloom grinned at her. "Sounds like cutie mark material to me."

"Yeah," she agreed, though she tried not to sound skeptical. Her friend had done most of the work, since she knew both mechanics and pony tools better than Chance did. Chance had just followed her around with their sketches, making comments and preventing her from accidentally doing something wrong. None of it had been perfect, but so long as they could demonstrate the process was feasible, that would be enough. It didn't even matter to Chance if they won, really. Cheap metal was one of the important steps on the road to an advanced society. She would just have to make sure she included something about what to do with all the mud in her notes somewhere. "For sure. Tomorrow we'll be watching that metal come pouring out, and..." She glanced briefly at her friend's flank. "Just what happens when you get your cutie mark, anyway?"

"Well, I only ever saw it happen once." She narrowed her eyes. "You. Remember?"

She nodded. "I wasn't awake. I don't know what it looked like!"

"Oh yeah." Apple Bloom grinned. "Well, it wasn't there, then there was this little flash of light, and there it was! I'm so excited! When the girls see, they're gonna be so happy for me!" She glanced briefly at where the tablet was resting, on the single table in the center of the room. "You think Truth's predicting will work for Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle?"

"I... maybe, Apple Bloom. If it works for you, I'm sure it will work for them too. It's just probabilities, though, so don't be discouraged if it doesn't work the first time. Every failure gives Truth that much more information about what doesn't work so it can find a solution that does."

The earth filly glared back in response. "Don't say things like that, Chance. That's what my sister always says." She nodded solemnly. "It's going to work this time, I know it is!"

She didn't have the heart to argue. She paced away, walking past the single window and glancing out to see if anypony was watching them. She tapped her hoof on the thick crystalline substance, feeling the almost electrical way the reinforcing magic shimmered around her hoof. During the first two days of their work, the youngest ponies in a very hooves-on science had been quite a spectacle, not counting the half-dozen advisers that had hovered around them like a flock of protective geese.

That had worn off by now. Once they'd made it clear that they had no intention of backing out and knew exactly what they were doing, the number of adults shadowing them had faded to the usual one-per-group. The stern looking mare sat outside the window in a folding chair, reading a book in her hooves and only occasionally glancing up to watch them. Needless to say, spending half the day breaking rocks hadn't attracted the same crowd as taking existing machines and jury-rigging them into technology no Equestrian had ever imagined. It was getting late; another two hours and they would be out of time, the third of four contest days gone. Two hours to come up with forty kilos of alumina using machines made by tiny colorful horses.

Chance jumped, eyes going wide as she saw the ponies standing outside. How had they gotten there so fast? Without warning, a pair of solar guard unicorns, gleaming armor and all, were talking to their adviser. The concrete and magical glass blocked all sound, but Chance didn't need to hear to see the discomfort and surprise in her appearance, and the worry. "Hide the tablet, Apple Bloom!" The words were out before she knew what she was saying, before she even knew why.

Apple bloom didn't object, though she looked as confused as the pony outside. She walked past Chance, casually tossing her saddlebags onto the table so they buried the tablet. Then she looked, and her eyes went as wide as saucers. "Royal Guard? What are they doin' here?"

"I think we're about to find out." Chance moved to stand beside one of the machines, lifting a wrench into her mouth that she did not need and turning away to look like she had been working. Apple Bloom shrugged and returned to her tray of rocks, and soon the room echoed with the violent shattering sound that stone made beneath her hooves. Mere seconds later the door started to swing open, glowing with a faint shimmer of greenish magic. She forced herself to turn, even as her friend stopped breaking rocks.

She nodded respectfully to the newcomers, but it was Apple Bloom who spoke first. "Hi! How are you ponies doing?"

Chance couldn't tell for sure, but she was certain their armor must be doing something to conceal their identity. The guards each looked so much alike that they would've had to come from the same family. Even in this case, when one of the ponies clearly smelled like a mare and the other a stallion, it was hard to tell at a glance which was which. Impressive magic indeed.

"Not well," said one of the guards in a low, stallion's voice. Well, that was one way to figure that out. "There's been an emergency. Princess Celestia is here; she needs to speak with you immediately."

Chance felt her stomach drop to somewhere near her hind-legs. "P-Princess Celestia?" she repeated, fighting to keep the fear from her voice. "Did she say what kind of emergency?"

The guards looked grave, and the stallion that had spoken before continued. "Unfortunately not; apparently it was a subject too sensitive for us. She only said it had something to do with 'Second Chance's ponies.' She said you would understand."

She hadn't been wrong. "Okay. We shouldn't keep her waiting."

Apple Bloom scrambled out of the tray. "Hold on one sec, Chance, I'm comin’!" She brushed off her hooves as quickly as she could, though no sooner had she started moving than the mare raised her hoof, resting it on Apple Bloom's shoulder. "Unfortunately not. Celestia's instructions were quite specific; you were to come alone."

Chance rolled her eyes, but she knew there was no point in arguing with military ponies. Not if they were anything like the soldiers from Earth. "Whatever. Apple Bloom, don't start the process without me. If you finish with the ore, you can go ahead and mix it with lye and get it loaded into the pressure vessel. Just remember to wear goggles and a mask the whole time, okay?"

Her friend nodded, though she hadn't taken her eyes from the guards. There was something dark in Apple Bloom's expression, though Chance couldn't tell what it was. "Yeah, Chance. No problem. I won't start it without you." Then, a little quieter, "Are you sure I can't come?"

The guards nodded, without any apparent annoyance at having to repeat themselves. "Sorry, young filly. They aren't our orders."

"I'll come right back, Apple Bloom." Chance wasn't completely sure, but she knew she would try. Whatever this emergency was, it couldn't be that serious, right? It wasn't as though anything that exciting could've happened. Luna-7 couldn't have stabilized the Rift without her effort on this side, she was sure of that. Could somepony else have tried to come through her way?

Chance followed the stallion from her lab, waving politely to Confident Theory as she left the lab behind.

Apple Bloom knew something was wrong. There was no way to identify exactly what was giving her that feeling, but she knew something was wrong. Was something wrong with the way the guards had sounded? Was it the way they held themselves, or how determined they had been to ensure Apple Bloom hadn't been there?

Apple Bloom didn't hear many lies growing up, not with a sister like Applejack. Nor could Apple Bloom herself ever get away with lying to her. Applejack could always tell when she hadn't really done her chores, or when her black eye hadn't really been acquired when she tripped and hit her head on the wall.

For the first time, Apple Bloom thought she might know what Applejack had been talking about. The question, then, was what she could do about it. Fortunately she had some hard work to do in the meantime; hard work always helped her think. She turned so she could face the window as she pulverized stone, crushing it to a fine powder before brushing the contents of the tray into a covered box and loading it up with another slab.

As she sweated over her work, she noticed something strange from out the window. One of the guards (she couldn't tell which) returned, and Confident Theory rose to meet them. Without a word, the unicorn outside drew the blinds closed, cutting off Apple Bloom's vision of the outside. Why in the name of Celestia would a guard have done that?"

Apple Bloom moved forward cautiously, creeping towards the blinds. The walls were soundproof, but that didn't mean she couldn't get a glance outside. Apple Bloom scanned the tables for something reflective, and found it in the back of the clipboard Chance had used to take notes. She slid it as low as she could while still angling it up towards the blinds.

With a sense of satisfaction, Apple Bloom saw her idea had worked, and that the clipboard now reflected a distorted view of exactly what was going on outside. She watched as Confident Theory stiffened, glaring defiantly at the guard. Without warning the guard lunged, with the grace of a predator. Apple Bloom yelped in shock, dropping the clipboard.

Thank Celestia the walls were soundproof. She scrambled to get another look outside, but by the time she had the clipboard angled at the gap in the blinds, both ponies were gone. She grunted in frustration, but forced herself to keep watching, hoping her patience might be rewarded.

It was; after about five minutes, Confident Theory returned from the nearby hallway. She stopped at the door, and her horn glowed briefly. There was a dull thump from the door as the locking bar slid into place, then she turned and continued on her way. There was no trace of bruising or injury, despite the force that had apparently brought her to the ground. She wasn't wearing her glasses.

Apple Bloom got that feeling again, the one she couldn't quite explain. It wasn't just that in the minutes that followed the guard never emerged from a hallway she already knew led to the electrical closet and nothing else, though that was certainly part of it. She wasn't sure if it was the guards she ought to be frightened of or her adviser, but she knew one thing as surely as she knew that apples didn't grow in winter: she wouldn't feel safe until she was back with her friend.

"Now, how do I find Chance?" Apple Bloom said to herself, plopping down and glaring at the chalkboard. There was a map in her saddle-bags, maybe she could look through and see what sort of secure-looking places this building had.

She wouldn't get the chance. Almost the second after she spoke, she heard a muffled sound from beneath the saddle bags. Of course she remembered what she had buried there, and after a few moments of struggle, she rescued Chance's tablet from beneath her saddle-bags. "Uh, did you say something?"

The device squawked in the strange, rolling vowels of Chance's language, the screen completely filled with unreadable text. However, as soon as it finished saying whatever it had been trying to say, it spoke in Equestrian. The voice was flat and emotionless, not at all like talking to the cube in Twilight’s basement. "Activate tracking routine? Target: User Second Chance."

"Yes!" she squealed, glaring intently down at the screen. "Trackin' routine sounds like exactly what I need! If trackin' means to you what it means ta me."

The tablet spoke in Chance's language again, though as before all she had to do was wait a few moments and it repeated itself in Equestrian. "Please note that without UNTRANSLATABLE tracking this unit is limited to a range of .5 kilometers."

The screen flickered, rows and rows of text replaced with a single bright arrow that rotated to point south. Apple Bloom tested the tracking by rotating the tablet around, and she found that as she did the arrow spun so that it always faced approximately the same place.

Was it really working? Apple Bloom had never been given cause to doubt Chance's technology before. Even if it wasn't working, though, she had a bigger problem just now. She would have to escape the lab if she was to reunite with her friend. Heedless of the consequences, Apple Bloom faced away from the window and lashed out with the firmest buck her small body could manage. It didn't even dent, and the resulting shock of pain nearly dropped her to the ground.

She spent several minutes saying lots of things that would've got soap in her mouth if Granny Smith had been listening, shaking off the pain of the impact. Turned out that pressure-glass was every bit as strong as their adviser had suggested. Apple Bloom tried her luck on the door next, striking the steel with a little less force than she had dared with the window. She didn't even dent it. Of course, she had expected that. Earth pony strength worked well on stone and dirt, but somewhat less well on metal. The process of forging and refining changed the magical nature of the rock in some way a pony like Twilight probably could've explained.

"Signal strength at 24% and falling," the tablet said, after what she could only presume was a similar explanation in human language.

"Well, that's just great." She glared at the ground. "Locked in the lab, friend's probably in danger... What would Applejack do?" She looked around, though she didn't have to look far to figure out the answer to that question. Her sister was a simple pony. Locked away in the basement of a chemical plant, Applejack would've kicked and bucked at everything in sight until she got herself loose.

But Applejack was an adult mare, with some of the strongest earth pony magic Apple Bloom had ever seen in a pony. Even so, escaping what amounted to a solid concrete and steel bunker might even take her hours. A great deal of awful things could happen to a pony in just a few hours. Her parents would've been able to attest to that, if they were still alive.

So what would've worked for Applejack wouldn't work for her. What about the things her friends would do? Scootaloo probably would've tried something athletic and daring, like trying to get at the grates letting in air and escape that way. But Apple Bloom knew better than to trust her safety to a chemistry lab's ventilation system, so she couldn't try that.

Sweetie Belle would rely on her magic. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd be able to levitate the lock open on the other side of the door, though she probably would've been as powerless as Chance was to actually get it open.

At that moment, Apple Bloom realized something, something it had taken her until that moment to put together. She was sitting in an entire lab filled with supplies. Machines filled most of the space, and they hadn't even touched most of them. Forget what her other friends would've done; they probably couldn't have escaped anyway. Apple Bloom was going to do what Apple Bloom would've done.

In spite of everything, she found herself smiling as she pulled on the safety goggles. With a wrench in her mouth and pliers in her hooves, she set to work.

Somewhere not all that far away, a pair of changeling queens waited in darkness. For her temporary burrow, Queen Chrysalis had chosen a water treatment plant. Not only was the building less than a block away from the hotel where the contest was being held, it was also almost completely automated. Thanks to the wonders of powerful spells, the entire plant required less than a dozen ponies. It was trivial to find somewhere in the facility to hide along with her precious daughter.

The green of her daughter's cocoon shone faintly with an internal light, the light of love and a child nearly ready to be born. Only one process remained, the most difficult and painful process in the birth of any of her queens. Imprinting assured that the knowledge of the hive survived the generations, assured that a new queen would have the strength of will and the knowledge required to lead a swarm, even a small one.

In every case, she had used her own memories. This did not replace the growing personality with her own, but it did give it access to thousands of years of experience. Most of her daughters had great difficulty assimilating it, and in the end would only be left with vague impressions of what she had to give them. Those that retained more were destined to become powerful queens indeed, perhaps strong enough to raise queens of their own one day.

Those queens rarely imprinted their offspring, for fear the new queens would rise up and replace their mothers as they often tried to do to Chrysalis. Of all the swarm, she alone did not fear she would be replaced. All she had to do to triumph over a disobedient daughter was wait for time to take its course. In the end, all of them died.

How are you feeling? she asked, her mental voice as gentle and loving as she could muster. It was hard not to feel sympathy for the little one, knowing what she would soon endure.

Ready, came the reply, in a will easily a match for any of her regular drones. It was the will of a young queen that might one day rule over a large hive indeed. She would need all that strength in the days ahead, though not for ruling drones. I'm ready to help you, Mother. I'll make you proud.

I know you will, little one. Chrysalis kept the sorrow from her voice only with the greatest exercise of self-discipline. The young queen was fiercely inquisitive, and any sign of distress might prompt hours of interrogation. That was another rare trait for a changeling: the unborn queen was compassionate. That trait was rare in the swarm, and probably wouldn't have survived a conventional imprinting. You have a very important purpose, more important than any of your sisters yet.

What is it? she asked, eagerness in her voice. I'll do it better than you've ever seen it done before!

I don't doubt it. Chrysalis paced the small chamber, ducking each of the valves and pipes without having to look at them. The raw materials for the procedure were all here, arrayed in a ritual circle. The crystals were old, more ancient than any other changeling in the swarm. They were older than the city they stood in, older than Equestria itself. As with many ancient objects, their magic had only grown with time, swelling with the eons as the subtle working of Equestria itself twisted them to its pattern.

Queen Chrysalis surveyed the ritual circle again, testing for the hundredth time that the runes had been copied perfectly. They were, and every symbol and ritual object was in place. Everything was ready, from the objects to the queen herself. All that remained was the pony she needed, and everything would be in motion.

She returned to the unborn queen, resting her head protectively on the top of its cocoon. You're going to make a better future for all changelings. You'll make sure none of your brothers or sisters ever have to sleep hungry. You'll make it so we don't have to hide.

There was a pause, a rare thing from the young queen. She couldn't see the changeling's face through the cocoon, but Chrysalis could imagine it twisting in concentration. Few of her drones would be able to process a command like the one she'd just given, composed almost entirely of abstractions.

I'll do it, came the eventual reply. I don't know how yet. It sounds hard. But if you think I can do it, I will. I'll figure out the way and I'll do it. For you.

I know you will. Chrysalis fed her love to the young queen. There had been billions of changelings over the years, yet over all of them there had only ever been one that had love to give as ponies did. Perhaps this new queen would be the second. I love you, daughter. It will soon be hard to remember what you have learned as you grew. Don't ever forget that you are the only thing that matters in my whole world. Without you and your sisters, I have nothing.

I won't! The voice was fierce, and burned with every bit of emotion that Chrysalis had felt from her own words. Had she been imagining things, or had she felt a flash of love in return? With the burning storm of emotions that raged in her, it was impossible to judge the source of such feeble energy. I won't forget. I don't understand what's going to happen to me, but I won't forget. I'll think about you over and over no matter how bad it gets.

Chrysalis, merciless millennia-old ruler of the Changelings, did not have the strength to continue her conversation. She walked across the room and sat beside the circle, waiting for her most capable servants to return.

She wasn't waiting long.