Author's Notes:

Done reading this and Alcauto's fight? Decide who wins right here!

Dusty hadn’t expected this when he had taken the door that had appeared in the featureless room he was forced to wait in. Usually one didn’t walk from a room, straight into a sewer. One also doesn’t usually find said sewer housing several dozen blank-flank ponies wandering about aimlessly.

Unless they actually did. In which case Dusty prayed to the Queen of Queens that he would never meet them. These ponies were dull-colored, blank-flanked, and filled his empathic senses with feelings ranging from rage and despair, to apathy and fear.

But there was no love. None at all. Every pony Dusty had ever met, which were admittedly very few, had at least some form of love in them. These...things...did not. They were little more than empty husks.

Beyond the loveless pony husks, the first thing to hit him was the smell. His nose wrinkled in distaste, desperately wishing to be plugged. This was a sewer alright. He was standing on a ledge over the rushing water. A quick look was all it took to confirm that the swiftly moving water would be too dangerous to swim in. Not that he was inclined to get in, anyway, as pieces of trash and debris floated past.

Looking left and right, he could see grates set into the walls. Some of the grates had light filtering through, while others only occasionally flashed. One grate down to his left had light so intense it it hurt his eyes to look at even from a distance. Being close to it would possibly cause blindness.

The most surprising thing he saw was not the ponies, the light, or anything else. It was the giant floating boulder of trash. It was perched in the air to his right, held aloft by...something he couldn’t see. Several more boulders could be seen in the distance.

Dusty flinched when he heard a loud cry behind him, and, whirling around, he found one such husk far too close for comfort. It was sitting covering its eyes and wailing, tears pouring down its cheeks. How it had gotten so close to him without his noticing, he wasn’t sure. Now was not the time to be distracted by the scenery. Dusty gagged on the disgustingly large amount of despair pouring off the husk in waves, backing away quickly.

His ears, pinned back from the uncomfortable settings, snapped to attention at the sound of nearby wing beats. Fleeing into the shadows of a nearby tunnel, Dusty did his best to not choke on the smells that filled his nostrils. It was bad enough for these husks to be overwhelming him with their despair, and the smell wasn’t helping. It was like some unholy mix of cow manure and the rotting dead.

Which only made it even worse to walk in. The water was murky, impossible to see through, and it splashed out of its canal just enough to give the floor a thin coat. There was even some dripping off the boulders floating high up in the air. Dusty would have found them rather strange, if he wasn’t so busy doing his best to hold down his lunch at some of the things he saw in the canal off to the side. He could feel his chitin becoming moist simply from the ambient mist in the air. A very thorough scrubbing was in order after this ordeal was over.

Closing his eyes, Dusty tried to filter out the horrible sights and smells of the sewer. The tunnel he was hiding in was, thankfully, somewhat clean. Not in smell, but at least in looks. Hopefully it was unused and he wouldn’t regret hiding in here. Finally catching his breath, Dusty peeked out around the corner and found an odd sight among the floating boulders and husks: a bat pony.

The bat pony was difficult to see in the light of the tunnel. Despite the light shining in through some of the grates, it was filtered and dirtied until everything was cast in a half-light at best. What the source of that outside light was, Dusty had no idea. He chalked it up to magic.

We are here for a fighting tournament, Dusty mused. So that must be my opponent.

The bat-winged pony was looking over the crowd of husks, most likely looking for somepony that stood out from among them. Namely, Dusty. The little changeling wasn’t quite ready to reveal himself, however; it was too soon. He needed more information on the battlefield and on how his opponent worked. Dusty might even be able to glean information about the chaos that was this sewer from his observations.

But how to observe without being observed myself... Dusty glanced about, before smirking to himself. Of course. I have dozens of disguises ready for me here!

Dusty was about to make himself look exactly like one of the wandering husks, but it was at that moment that the bat pony decided to come closer to his hiding place. Panicking slightly, Dusty had to fight the urge to flee down the tunnel and instead clinged closer to the dark shadows within the tunnel. His chitin coloration would help him here.

Unfortunately, his lack of knowledge about bat ponies wound up being his downfall. All he noticed was a smirk appearing on his opponent’s face, tasted some smug satisfaction coming from him, and then felt a hoof connect with his jaw rather painfully.

“Found ya!” the bat pony crowed. “Now you’re going down!”

Swearing colorfully, Dusty had no choice but to beat a hasty retreat; a one-on-one fight like this was beyond his ability. Tearing further down the tunnel, Dusty heard the bat pony call something about not getting away—but naturally, that was when the world went upside down. He stepped one hoof outside the other end of the tunnel and instantly was flying in a different direction.

And naturally, that was when Dusty decided to scream into the near-silent hive mind.

<What the actual fuck!>

Dusty flailed his hooves wildly before slamming head first into a floating boulder. Spotting his competition below him, he stopped rubbing his sore head and fled to the other side of the rock, using the grippiness of his chitinous hooves to cling to the rock. Peering out from its underside, he reacquired his opponent.

For a pony, Dusty had to admit that he looked somewhat impressive. The bat wings certainly gave him a certain level of intimidation, especially when combined with those eyes of his. They seemed to almost glow in the dim lighting, and with how quiet his wing beats were Dusty knew he would have to stay alert in order to avoid being caught by surprise. He was surprised he’d heard him at all that first time.

The bat pony glanced around, failing to spot Dusty. The little changeling smirked and took the time to look at his new surroundings. There were more floating boulders and rocks and slabs of stone. They formed a strange sort of field with some being connected while others were free floating. Along with the boulders were a few more of those husks. Spotting one that was walking around a little stone bridge aimlessly, Dusty let those familiar green flames cover his body for only a moment.

There, he mused. Now he won't be able to find me so easily, and I can take my time studying his style.

The bat pony was flying around, taking care to not get too close to the floating boulders. Dusty surmised that each boulder was not, in fact, being held up by magic, but by gravity. Somehow, the gravity in this place was messed up, causing places where it changed direction with little to no reason. Over time, pieces of trash had gotten caught in the fields and formed these boulders. He would have to be careful flying around and fight to not get too close. One wrong move could end up with him crashing into the ground.

The smell coming off the boulder he was on made his nose want to commit mutiny. Layers upon layers of trash heaped together did not make for a pleasant aroma. He’d probably be smelling trash everywhere he went for days after this.

Of all the places to hold a fight, it had to be in a sewer with weird gravity, he groused.

As Dusty had quickly learned, this bat pony had a very straightforward fighting style. His obvious advantages over Dusty were his wings and their rather impressive agility. The changeling had seen the bat pony pull off some impressive maneuvers when he strayed too close to a gravity field. There was no way in Tartarus that Dusty would ever be able to turn that sharply.

But this bat pony would never be as quiet in the air as Dusty while he was transformed.

Smirking to himself, Dusty flapped his disguise’s wings quietly, hovering over to a floating stone bridge and quickly landing among the crowd of husks there. Letting those familiar green flames travel over his form again, Dusty made his appearance an exact copy of the nearest male husk. This one without wings or a horn. If he had guessed correctly, then the bat pony would be passing by here shortly. There was a pattern he had seen to the pony’s search.

Sure enough, the bat pony emerged over the boulder. He flapped his wings quickly as he entered the boulder’s gravity field, correcting for the sudden change in direction. His eyes scanned the crowd of husks while Dusty did his best to emulate their behavior and movement.

His ruse must have worked, as the bat pony flew past him. It took all of Dusty’s willpower to not smirk. Instead, he turned around, looking after the retreating pony.

Then, while he had his back to him, Dusty pounced.

“What the—!”

That was all his opponent could yell, before getting caught in a rather painful stranglehold. As he had been flying, the two of them fell a short ways until Dusty was on top of his opponent. All the while, Dusty focused on putting up the performance of his life. He had seen one of the husks go crazy earlier, so he copied that—wailing and crying, acting like he was deranged. He was too focused, however, and failed to notice the hoof slamming towards his unprotected head.

A solid thunk made his entire body tremble, and Dusty had no choice but to let go. But he kept his wits, willing his body to return to normal as he sidestepped quickly to the side. By the time the bat pony had turned around completely, the changeling had practically vanished. In reality, he was hovering on the underside of the stone bridge they had come to land on. Smirking as he heard his opponent coming around to peek over the edge, Dusty flew back over the bridge and tackled the bat pony over the side. The hit was hard enough to send both of them tumbling into the air.

“You really think an aerial battle will net you a victory, bug?!” the bat pony crowed, successfully slamming his hooves into Dusty’s chitin rather painfully.

Dusty winced at the hit. His enemy was strong and probably had either training or experience to back it up. They were both rapidly approaching another boulder and a hasty plan formed in his mind.

“No!” Dusty countered. From what he could tell, the gravity fields of the boulders started anywhere from a few hooves off the surface, to a couple dozen hooves. Soon they would enter the field of the new boulder and be drawn towards its surface.

With a sickening feeling of reversal, they entered the field. Dusty smirked and pushed the bat pony towards the surface, letting gravity do the rest. It was only after he let go did he realize a flaw in this plan, something he hadn’t accounted for.

The gravity of this particular boulder was a lot stronger than normal. Despite buzzing his wings, he, too, fell towards the ground. The bat pony impacted first, only partially successful in correcting himself. Dusty hit a moment later nearby, his knees buckling under the added strain of the landing.

Suddenly, standing was now turning out to be difficult. The impact felt like he’d just fallen out of a tall tree, not the dozen or so hooves of height he had fallen. His legs hurt from absorbing that impact. A low groan brought his attention over to his opponent.

Getting to his hooves more quickly, his opponent steadied himself, keeping his eyes on Dusty. Then, his face set in grim determination, he launches himself at Dusty. The changeling tried to dodge, but the increased gravity was making his movements sluggish. Every move required intense effort.

He managed to sidestep just enough that, when combined with the bat pony’s own increased struggle to attack accurately, the strong charge became a grazing blow. Still, the size of his opponent made it a hard hit all the same. But while Dusty was pushed to the side, hissing in pain, the bat pony misjudged his landing and crashed to the ground.

Dusty pressed his advantage, delivering several strikes to the bat pony’s side before his opponent rolled away, getting to his hooves. Both of them looked at each other, knowing that fighting here would benefit neither of them, but not willing to make that first move.

The staredown lasted for a long moment before Dusty came up with a new plan. “Fuck this,” he whispered. He gripped several pieces of trash with his front hooves, tossing them at the bat pony. The bat pony brought up a wing to shield his face, giving Dusty the time he needed to take to the air.

Fighting the increased gravity took a toll on his wings, but he was able to break out of it and back into normal gravity. Looking back at the boulder, the bat pony had recovered and was also straining to escape. Dusty only had a few seconds of freedom to increase his lead.

A few seconds that he didn’t plan on wasting. Wings flapping hard, he sped up and away, dodging around boulders to try and break line of sight long enough to either hide, or disguise himself again. Facing the bat pony in a one on one battle was stupid. He needed to take a moment to reconvene and think of a plan.

As he flew and dodged, he discovered something else about the gravity fields. Some of them were weaker than normal. It made sense, if there was one that was stronger, then there’d be ones that were weaker.

The pervasive mist in the air also worked to his advantage. He could tell where a gravity field started based on the way the mist flowed and moved. As well, it seemed to change colors slightly when it changed direction. If he really looked, each boulder had a corona of color indicating the edge of the field.

Using his newfound knowledge, he was able to more easily zip around the boulders. Looking back, he could see his opponent struggling with a change in gravity, so he hadn’t figured it out yet. This could work to his advantage.

As soon as a boulder broke line of sight between them, Dusty dove for an opening in the wall. It wasn’t a lit grate, just another, smaller, tunnel, much like the one he had hid in originally. He already knew that the bat pony could at least partially see in the dark, though what the extent of that vision was, he didn’t know. Best to be cautious.

Flapping his wings, he zoomed down the tunnel. It opened up into another sewer much like the one he had just left. The positioning of the boulders, as well as their size, was different, but otherwise it was much the same.

He flew up to the wall over the tunnel, finding easy purchase on the crumbling brick. If the bat pony saw him enter the tunnel, then he’d come zooming out of the same, thinking that Dusty had gotten into the new field of boulders.

After two minutes passed with nopony coming out of the tunnel, Dusty breathed a sigh of relief. “Think I got away,” he said.

Maintaining his perch, he tried to figure out how to beat the bat pony. In terms of raw flying ability, the bat pony outshone Dusty—but Dusty had the advantage of understanding how the terrain affected them. But it was only a matter of time before the bat pony figured out the secret to the strange gravity, as well. Dusty was pretty sure he could fly for much longer than the bulky bat pony, but he lost out on overall speed.

When it came to actually fighting, his opponent also had the upper hoof. Dusty suspected that he was current or former Royal Guard. His moves spoke of training behind them. Dusty had some training, but only enough to win a scrap if somepony figured out who he was, not survive against a trained guard. He’d need to play it smart in order to win.

Dusty looked over at the boulders. I wonder if I can do something with these...

While he had a moment, he felt safe enough to experiment a little. He had no idea how large the sewers were, nor whether they were being confined to a certain area. He may have lost the bat pony for now, but eventually he would be found.

Taking off, he flew over to the nearest obstacle, making sure to be on the far side of it from the tunnel. This one had normal gravity. He looked around, spotting a relatively small one, more the size of a large rock, really, and flew over to it. He put his forehooves on it and pushed. Slowly, the trash heap moved as he was able to overpower the gravity field around it.

His muscles strained as he pushed, wings buzzing hard. Finally, with a grunt of effort, he pushed it past the corona. Regular gravity took over and the entire heap fell towards the larger boulder. Remarkably, it stayed in shape as it fell. He’d expected it to break apart without the gravity field holding it together. When it entered the gravity field of the larger boulder, it changed direction, slamming into the other one with a massive amount of force. A loud crash rang out, causing Dusty to wince. Surely the bat pony heard that and would come investigating. But now the changeling had a plan.

Flying away to another boulder, Dusty repeated his trick of disguising as one of the strange husk things. A minute later, the bat pony shot out of a different tunnel, eyes looking around.

The trash heap Dusty had tossed had rolled to a stop already, though it still looked out of place. The bat pony narrowed his eyes as he saw the discrepancy. Dusty could tell that he knew that he was around here somewhere.

The bat pony flew slowly around the area, eyes scanning everything. He would pause out of hoof’s reach from each husk, watching its reactions.

Being cautious and careful. Time to really put my acting to the test.

Dusty did his best to act like one of the husks. He wandered around his floating platform aimlessly, not seeming to notice anything but keeping a careful eye on the bat pony.

His opponent flew around a collection disappearing from view. Dusty waited, but when he didn’t reappear, he grew worried. He kept up the act, waiting.

After several minutes, his patience was wearing thin. It shouldn’t take that long to search one side. Cautiously, he looked around. The bat pony was nowhere to be seen.

Did he move on?

Dusty was about to try leaving, when a voice spoke up from behind him. “Gotcha.”

Whirling around, he saw the bat pony standing there. In the time it took him to register what had happened, a hoof connected with his jaw and he saw stars. Not letting up, the bat pony pressed his advantage. Two more strikes connected with Dusty’s jaw before an arm around his neck tossed him into the trash on the floor.

Dusty coughed, droplets of green marring the bat pony’s coat. His opponent was straddling him, forehooves raised to rain down blows on him. Dusty brought his own forehooves up, ready to block. He may have less experience than the bat pony, but he was not going to lay down and die.

For several seconds, they traded blows. The bat pony struck, and Dusty blocked or deflected each blow. In close up like this, Dusty’s reflexes were a match for the bat pony’s, though only just. After several seconds, Dusty managed to gain the upper hoof by tossing a foreleg around the bat pony’s neck. Pulling down and rolling with all his weight, he tossed the bat pony to the side. This allowed him a precious few seconds to get to his hooves. He jumped back, using his wings for lift, and landed across from his enemy who was also back up and ready.

The two of them faced each other, neither moving. Dusty felt like he should say something, his training as a changeling taking over. He should introduce himself. Try to get the pony talking, learn more of him and make him comfortable so Dusty could sneak in under a white flag. With a barely perceptible shudder, he fought down that portion of himself.

The time for first impressions and negotiations had long since passed.

The current conglomeration of junk they were on had normal gravity, so the advantage went to the bat pony. He knew how to fight far more effectively than Dusty did. So Dusty had to quickly come up with a way to gain the advantage and enact his plan.

The bat pony pressed the attack again, confident in his physical advantage, throwing himself at Dusty. They collided in a flurry of hooves and blows.

Dusty blocked the initial strike. The impact on his forehooves shook the limb painfully. Based on that alone, it wouldn’t take long for the bat pony to overwhelm his defenses. The bat pony was stronger than Dusty, but Dusty liked to believe that he was smarter. This time, after blocking this attack and dodging that attack, he grinned as his plan came together. Now he needed the moment to enact it.

It was risky at best, and suicidal at worst.

Dusty blocked several more strikes. He could feel his body giving in, cracks appearing in the tough but not invulnerable chiton. However, he could also feel his opponent’s blows weakening. But Dusty wasn’t sure he could withstand enough for the bat pony to completely exhaust himself.

Then the inevitable happened, and Dusty, tired and distracted by pain, slipped. A strike impacted his jaw again, pushing one of his fangs through his cheek. A splash of green added a strange sense of life to the dead blacks and browns of the junk below their hooves. Dusty howled from the sharp pain.

The changeling swallowed, the taste of his blood lingering. The next strike from the bat pony was going to be on the left side of his jaw—he could predict the moves easily now, their fight lasting for more than long enough for the observant changeling. As the bat pony’s hoof came up, Dusty blocked it, knowing what to expect. The bat pony moved both of his forelegs into a defensive position, using his wings to give him lft, ready for the strike that wasn’t to come.

Instead of a strike, Dusty used his forelegs to wrap around his enemy’s hooves. Drawing the bat pony close, Dusty could feel his opponent’s surprise. It almost seemed as if the changeling was leaning in to give the bat pony a kiss.

Instead, Dusty pulled the bat pony forward, pulling his hooves out, sending him off balance. From the new position, he was able to slam a hoof into the stunned bat pony’s skull, then disentangling them from one another.

Not pausing for a moment, Dusty pushed with his wings, hard, shooting right for his fallen enemy. To the bat pony, it seemed like Dusty was turning the tables and attacking the guardspony with his own strategy. But fighting the bat pony like that wasn’t what Dusty wanted. He had another plan in mind.

Using his hooves, he slammed the bat pony’s head into the ground. Then, he wrapped his forehooves around the bat pony’s head tightly. Despite the blows to his head, his opponent had been stunned for only a moment and began fighting back. Despite the blows raining down on his sides, Dusty never loosened up. Gripping tightly, he bashed the head into the ground over and over.

No one blow was near enough to do any lasting damage. The changeling just didn’t have the energy or the strength. However, Dusty wasn’t after doing lasting damage. All he wanted to do was disable the bat pony.

Finally, after slamming his opponent’s head into the ground numerous times, Dusty could feel his limbs go limp. This meant that he was disoriented. Even at his strongest, the bat pony would take several seconds to recover. This let Dusty do what he wanted to do.

Slamming the bat pony’s head into the floor a few more times for good measure, Dusty spread his wings, taking off. The bat pony lay on the ground, recovering. Now was the time to enact his plan. However hasty or stupid his plan was, it was now or never.

Dusty buzzed up to a smaller clump of garbage floating overhead. Pressing his forehooves against it, he strained against the weight, pushing. Finally, the boulder started moving, slowly creeping out of the gravity field.

Meanwhile, The bat pony looked around, struggling to stand. Dusty kept pushing, knowing that it was now or never. With a grunt of exertion, he pushed the trash heap beyond the confines of its gravity field. Just like the last one, it kept its shape and started falling towards the bat pony below.

The bat pony opened his eyes and took full stock of what was going on. His vision must have been full of a rapidly descending trash heap, as his eyes went wide.

“Wha—!” the bat pony said. As quickly as he said it, his reactions took over. His wings flapped as he tried to get out of the way, but something seemed off as he merely hopped forward about an inch.

Dusty dropped, moving as fast as his wings would push him, and slammed into the falling ball, pushing it down faster. “Fuck you! Get squished, bat!”

The bat pony had only a moment to contemplate that statement, all the while trying to recover from being slammed over and over into the ground. “Oh shit!” It was at the last possible second, but the bat pony narrowly avoided being crushed completely. But even still, Dusty’s effort did not go unrewarded as the bat pony let out a blood curdling scream—his wing had been caught and was now pinned.

Dusty grimaced. Despite the fact that it was a fighting competition, the act of destroying—rather painfully—somepony’s means of flight didn’t sit quite well with him. He didn’t have much longer to contemplate it, however, because the bat pony was able to wrench his crushed wing out from under the boulder. With swears and wordless screams, blood dripping from the frayed leather, with more strength than Dusty thought possible he jumped on top of the offending pile and leapt for the changeling.

Despite his best effort, Dusty couldn’t fight the gravity in time to avoid the crazed jump. In the face of his wounds, the bat pony managed to slam into Dusty and send them launching higher and high towards the ceiling—which was quickly looking more like a floor. The incoming brick was all Dusty could focus on, despite the deluge of strikes the back of his mind noticed from his enemy.

Gritting his teeth and with an almighty yell of effort, Dusty was able to spin the two of them around and make sure that it was the bat pony that hit the ceiling. The bat pony was good, very good, and Dusty finally realized that he had known he had never been capable of beating him in any sort of normal fight. Something tricky like this had been his only hope. As they flew higher and higher, he breathed heavy, ignoring the countless sources of pain all along his body. The bat pony kept hitting him, sending shards of chiton and splotches of ichor to join the various clumps of debris scattered through the tubes.

Then they hit and Dusty’s world went black.

He awoke, unsure how much time had passed. Slowly, one hoof at a time, he managed to stand. His breathing was heavy and hard, his entire body nothing but pain. It took a moment, but he noticed that now he was standing on the ceiling, now the floor. And there, at his hooves, was the bloodied body of his opponent. The bat pony was unconscious, beneath him—or above, however it was in this disorienting place.

This was it, this was what he had been waiting for, planning for. Finally, his opponent was laid bare beneath him. No more would he have to skulk in the shadows.

Dusty slowly lifted a hoof, ready to beat the bat pony even further, to cement his victory. His muscles tensed, and he prepared to deal the finishing blow...but he couldn’t.

Heaving a sigh, he put his hoof down, and picked up the bat pony. It wasn’t his way to attack a helpless opponent. Even the few times his true identity had been revealed, and he had had to fight for his life, he hadn’t killed anypony.

Gingerly making his way to the real ground, he placed the wounded bat pony there and looked to the ceiling. Well, I won... now what? he wondered idly.

Suddenly, a beam of light pierced the pervascent gloom. Dusty looked over to it. Something about the light told him he should head towards it. He turned to his fallen opponent. Would it be fine to just leave him here…? Dusty wasn’t sure. But if the bat pony was alive, he might have a chance. That was far better than killing him.

Leaving him to his own chances, Dusty took to the air, doing his best to ignore the nagging guilt at the back of his mind.

With all he had learned about this place, he easily made his way unimpeded to the light, despite several more changes in gravity. The source of the light proved to be a door. Simple, wooden, it was much like the door that had led him to be here. Looking around, he saw nothing else. Shrugging, he opened the door, stepping into the light beyond.