Author's Notes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHy47KFY8t4 Sim's theme.

The alternate name for the home of Sim's parents was Perfection as in the place from Tremors. I couldn't decide between that and Dryfield but ultimately went with Dryfield.

The atmosphere was brown and stagnant as ever, cool to the touch and not so bad. Still and musty however, with a lot of motes of dust hanging in the air. Especially where Fear and Sim were, under mounds of broken, collapsed stalwart gray highway. Clumps and chunks fallen all around, piled up over each other as if they just couldn't stand the test of time, or maybe they had been around during one of the bombs? It was uncertain, but whatever it was, it had been the perfect home, deep down inside, buried under loads of crumbling concrete and jutting rebar, in a little alcove in the packed, desiccated soil, was a special occurrence not found in many parts of the wasteland. A changeling slime bath.

It was thick and viscous, sticking to itself and becoming slippery with anything else it touched. Flowing along and draining into one large pool. It was bioluminescent and lit up the huddled room of infrastructure in a gentle green glow, like a soupy green sun. With pale olive greens and deep lime greens here and there, most of it oversaturated. The slime thickened in certain places, and thinned in others, roiling around and occasionally glorping when movement disturbed the surface. It was more like a marsh than anything else, but oh so cozy. Like a mud bath, molding against carapace and easing into every pore, nook, and cranny like an invasive tentacle massage, cloy and goopy. It was warm to the touch, nearly hot, as if it absorbed the heat around it and became a sauna of sorts. It felt oily against Fear's and Sim's body, and hardly stuck at all, drooling everywhere, never quite detaching from itself. The light it emitted was a gentle thrumming glow that reminded Fear of something primal and intimate, something all at once familiar and alien to him. Something he'd never experienced but was wholly attuned to. Not only that, but it reminded the colt of something important about his empathy, something he couldn't quite put his hoof on. It gently eased his mind and brought him back to simpler times, seeming to speak to him, whispering to him about better days. It congealed around the colt and stallion, having some suction to it.

“So yes, you will always have a subconscious need to serve, combatting with a deep, heartfelt desire to be on top of everything. A weird contradiction. You'll have to decide how you want to live your life given those conflicting emotions. It's because of your genetic defect and artificial destiny. You haven't found balance yet, nor may you ever; you may always be battling with both those needs and may never find peace. But I'm sure even in chaos there can be a level of contentment.” Sim's voice was calm, on the edge of a sigh as he relaxed in the cozy pool.

Fear's eyes revolved around in their sockets, tapping his forehooves on the rim of the pool, the gunk up to his neck. He was uncertain but it explained a lot. He spoke willingly, though it was unclear if it was to Sim or to his plushie that sat in the corner along with the pair's saddlebags, Sim's slumped over Fear's protectively. “Hmm... I suppose that explains my desire to prove myself. I'm always looking for the next big thing to show that I'm the best. Always thought it was the... uhh...” He recalled the word he'd learned from his novel. “Oh right, trauma. That.”

Sim shrugged. “I mean maybe. It could be a combination of all sorts of things, since the more reasons we have to do something, the stronger the behavior is.”

“This bath is really... clumpy. And, like, it gets everywhere. Maybe too much everywhere. I can feel it soaking into my fur and flesh, pulling out all the bad stuff. You know? I can feel it reaching into my mind? Just sort of kneading at it. Tickling something deep inside of me. It's so smooth.”

Sim could tell Fear was mostly talking to his mother. After all... “You've been talking to your mother more.” Besides, Sim already understood how it felt, and Fear wasn't the type of pony to broadcast everything he felt.

Fear's eyes narrowed and glanced to the side at his father. “Mh. Maybe. But at least I've been using the radio less.” He sounded somewhat hurt, as if offended that he'd been caught on something that was beyond his control, something that he was addicted to. And the radio was indeed off! No chill jazz tunes oozed out of his radio, neither did they escape the speakers of Sim's pipbuck.

Sim caught on and nodded softly. “Yeah, and I'm proud of you. You've been doing really well. I'm proud of you for fighting your gut reactions and weaning yourself off of it.”

A faint smile crossed Fear's face as he leaned back. “Mh, yeah, it's been super difficult!”

Sim just grinned back and rested his eyes shut.

Silence in its purest form reigned for what felt like a long time. It was hard to tell how much passed without looking at Sim's pipbuck. The only thing that accompanied them was the pulsating glow coming from the slime bath.

“How are these baths created anyway? You never explained it to me.”

Sim chuckled bitonally. “Hmm... well you never asked Fear – didn't know you were curious.”

Fear laughed, shaking his head wildly. “Hush, of course I was curious! It just never occurred to me is all.” His voice trailed off at the end.

Sim's muzzle scrunched up as he snickered, relaxing again and sighing out his stress and tension. He thought about Amelio for a moment, harkening back to her and the times he'd spent with her. He agreed with himself that he felt bad about it, and tried to think about how good it had been instead. Then he came back to reality. “Well, Fear, spores from a bioluminescent fungus called muco involuta collect in warm, humid, dark environments full of nutrient-rich rocks and dust.” There were indeed a lot of rocks around them, looking moist as if covered in a slight dampness. They looked almost too clean. “It overtakes the location and, while creating an oxygen-rich atmosphere, it eventually uses up all the nutrients in an area. Then it expels more spores that eventually float off to other areas or attach to other creatures and lie dormant until the conditions are just right, and as the original fungus dies off and decomposes, it creates large volumes of a nutritious slime. It can only survive in proper conditions. For instance, sunlight burns it so fast it's like it's being devoured, and cold air freezes it swiftly, making it wither and break apart.”

Fear was sort of keeping up, there were a lot of big words that he barely understood, only by context could he catch on. It also explained why Sim knew what to look for and what to expect. “So why's it feel so...” Fear's voice stuttered, building up into a crescendo of relief. “Good?”

“Shh, relax, I'm getting there.” He peeled open an eye to stare at Fear before continuing. “The reason changelings are so tuned into the slime is due to the fact we are originally born from a carnivorous plant tainted by magic water. It's theorized to have been radioactive. And the special fungus mutated from a cancer-ridden herb, likely due to radiation or magical interference as well, so the two have a lot in common. It reminds many changelings of being back in their egg. You? You weren't born from an egg exactly so you didn't get to experience that. But it still twists that part of you, the part of you that instinctively knows what it's like. It's like being back in the womb for you.”

The colt understood the gist of it, but it was still a little to complicated for him. “Is this like the slime that changelings expel from their teeth?”

Sim grinned a little brighter. “Nah. That's different. That's more of a resin that hardens once its been exposed to oxygen for a long period of time. Changelings have a special gland in their teeth that generates a substance which, when mixed with transformative magic, becomes a unique gel. So much comes from such a small place because the magic amplifies and multiplies it, allowing for shape manipulation.

Fear thought on that, his eyes narrowing and staring at the ceiling as he rested, feeling the stiffness leave his muscles the longer he spent in the bath. He spoke in a low, muttering voice. “It's too bad Ame isn't here to experience this with us... I miss her. The way she talked and her peaceful personality...”

Sim could easily see where this was going and tried to head the train off at the turn. Distracting Fear, he spoke up. “Hey, Fear? You wanna learn how to craft a mini hive mind? So you can store memories and connect with others like us?” Sim supplemented the questions by gliding along the side of the tub and sidling up next to Fear, draping a foreleg over his shoulders and pulling the colt in.

Fear twitched, broken from his reverie. “Uh, yeah, sure, why not?” His voice was a little stuttery.

Sim faltered for a moment, trying to put into words such a magical occurrence while Fear listened on intently. Fortunately for the stallion, Sim was good at conveying things into language. Came with the territory of being an artist. And having a teacher like his mother, even if she had taught him more by feeling. “Well, essentially you have to generate an illusion inside your own mind and... sort of... pull it out of yourself. Link yourself by a thin thread and leave it in the air around you. When you get it right it'll feel like you've expanded the size of your own brain. That's the best way I can describe it. And others will be able to feel its presence if you allow them to, and then, if you allow them to again, connect to it. To allow someling to connect to it you must match the vibration of your mind with theirs. Easier than it sounds.”

Fear had his eyes screwed shut as he attempted what seemed like the impossible, shaking his head a little in disbelief as he went at it for minutes on end, trying to generate the illusion and then just... Yank it out? As if he was trying to expand it around himself. Eventually, after what felt like too long, he got a small burst of something. Fear's eyes popped open and he yipped. “Yeah! I did it!” The exclamation was full of determination as he lifted a forehoof and threw it into the air. Fear could tell it was small, but it felt like a bubble! “But how do I make the bubble stronger? It feels like it could snap at any second, and can't hold anything!”

Sim pat his son on the back, giving him a round of clopping applause a moment later. “Good job. And it's like turning something into industrial strength. You use transformation magic in a more... mental way, and build more tentative illusion as a sort of... liminal space. And with experience you'll become better at it. As long as you don't go too fast you can make it bigger over time. Hive memory is faulty, which is why there are often changelings whose job it is to keep memories fresh, though it will always be a patchwork job if it isn't sustained regularly.” Sim paused, letting Fear splish splash around, riding the high of his victory. “Do you want to learn how to plant suggestions in a creature's head now? Remember, you have to practice this on your own time. And with willing participants.”

The colt was beyond happy, forgetting his troubles for just a moment as his tail wagged furiously beneath him. He then nodded emphatically. “Yes, I'd love to!”

“Remember, only use it when there is no other way, or you really have to calm a pony down or get them to do what you want. Only in important circumstances. Also you can cause a mind to revolt against itself if you're not careful, and then the pony may fly into a berserk rage for a time until they come to terms with it or realize they're being influenced.”

Fear considered those weighty words. Well, he didn't want Sim to be disappointed in him, and he didn't want anypony else to be either, in life or death. Though does it really matter if they're disappointed in me in death? It's not like they can say anything. The hackles on Fear's back rose up on end a moment later when he felt a familiar presence, a recognizable soul signature. He looked around the room, startled and baffled.

“What's wrong?”

“Just thought I... felt Mom.” Fear's voice was far away. Sim's eyes widened and he leaned back a bit, jaw dipping open. “But yeah, anyway, shoot.”

Sim shook his head clear. “Basically, you gather up transformation magic and sheer willpower into your brain. You mold it into something they might think for themselves, or imbue it with an emotion of docility, with a believable reason they should feel that way. Then you pump that amalgamation into your eyes. It'll cause an imperceptible green flash to overtake your eyes as the changeling part of you converts it into a spell.”

Fear bobbed his head up and down gently, before looking into Sim's eyes and trying it. It took a minute but he got... something. His eyes flashed green for a moment like Sim had said, an attempt to make him laugh.

Sim just grinned and told him to keep trying, nudging him in the shoulder with a hoof. “You're getting there. I almost felt it. You were a little too obvious though.” Sim paused and explained more. “Trying to force a suggestion too hard can break a creature's mind if the magic used in it is more powerful than what they have in their entire body. Many creatures are more prone to being swayed a certain way depending on how emotionally volatile they are. All you have to do is guide them around in a circle until they get to where you need them.”

Fear stared into the rippling pool of slime, keeping that in mind. “Thanks, Dad.” He pressed a hoof against his chin as he lingered in thought. He recalled feeling his mother's presence. I always wanted to hear stories about her. “What was Mom like?”

Sim leaned his head from one side to the other in contemplation, eyes rolling this way and that. “Storm wasn't perfect. She had problems getting close as I'm sure you know.” He glanced down to his son as he said that. Then he looked up again, still holding his son close. “It translated into extreme privacy and discomfort when opening up to most ponies. She named you Fearei Shatter because she believed in you to be better than her, and capable of doing what made you uncomfortable or scared.”

Fear's bottom lip pushed out in a bit of a pout, feeling a little guilt at not being better. He squeezed his eyes shut and discarded it for now, trying to distract himself. “You have family, right?”

“Yeah, a mother and father. Near Dryfield, Neighvada. They live on a farm on the outskirts of the village, which is made up of an old roadside motel and ancient trailers. They grow sunflowers and mutated pumpkins. The sunflowers are used as food and components for homemade radaway, since sunflowers, once genetically engineered, can more effectively sap away radiation than any other plant. As for my parents: Pumpkin Pep, known as Jack, has a green hoof and knows how to get certain crops to grow even in irradiated areas.”

Fear interrupted in his surprise. “What? Does he like, modify the components or something?”

Sim pulled his lips back into a smile. “Something like that. His voice is encouraging. Everything he does, stimulates something in them to be the best they can be. Even if that means mutating in order to survive. Emulae, my mother, loved him for that, for being able to change others simply by being himself. She also loved him for his love of others, capable of doting over the most dangerous or insignificant creatures. He was everything she loved about ponykind's best traits. And she was once a confidant for Queen Viola herself. More durable than any creature I've ever met. Able to endure any problem with a giant smile on her face. Her shell was made of titanium, figuratively speaking.”

Fear considered that for a time, before returning to the topic he was most interested about. “You and Mom had dealings with the Steel Rangers before right? In Chicoltgo?”

Sim nodded once. “Yes. When your mother and I were young, we were battle-hardened, naive go-getters just looking to make the wasteland a better place or die trying. We knew the risks and we wanted to prove ourselves capable. We were young and foolish. Shooting first and asking questions later. We were excited about leaving our mark on the wastes. We were both full of guts, but I was reckless while your mother was the voice of reason between us. But even so we were charged with enthusiasm. Either way, I was always looking to get into the arts wherever we went, performing for caps, while Storm was often running cons taught to her by her father.” Sim readjusted himself a little, getting comfortable.

“Eventually we reached some settlements surrounding Chicoltgo and learned of some sinister going-ons in the area. We learned that ponies were being used as slaves to help mine helium and find junk to repair some downed airships in the area that a detachment of interested Steel Rangers found. The rangers intended to put them back into commission to help fight the Enclave and anypony else who stood against them. This particular detachment was not at all against using slaves, and were particularly cruel to those not of their brotherhood.” Sim shook his head solemnly. “There were also changeling outcasts in the area who just wanted to live in peace, and they got caught up in the trouble as well. They would have been executed if the steel rangers learned about their true nature, or pushed far more brutally than something that was 'natural' like their equine friends.”

Sim continued after clearing his throat. “Your mother and I fought valiantly in order to free slaves and make the areas safer so they could go back to the way things used to be before the Steel Rangers came. But then the inevitable happened. They found out where we were hiding and they ambushed us. Most of us got away, but your mother and a couple others were captured. I only know her part of the story because she told me later. Storm explained to me that she was brought to their main bunker so she could be interrogated before being executed for continued crimes against the rangers. Without trial if you'd even believe it. They all knew the kinds of things she'd done. According to her it was written all over her normally stoic face.” Sim laughed, shrugging his shoulders. “They took her pipbuck off of her, a specially designed pipbuck made for overmares, and ended up putting it through the grinder. They tried to extract whatever data they could from it, knowing she was from a stable. They'd hoped to find out the locations of other stables, and everything Storm had collected on it. Unfortunately for them and fortunately for us, one thing Storm had on her pip was a rather heinous virus that seeped into their systems and put everything on the fritz. It even got so bad it started wiggling its way into their power armor, shutting down most of them and giving everypony there a time in Tartarus. And only Storm knew how to eliminate the virus.” Sim had a giant smile on his face at the memory.

“That's where your Dad comes in. You see, I'd been busy ever since her kidnapping trying to get a bunch of changelings together, though they weren't quite as skilled as me, in order to risk a break in. I didn't know what to expect, or what to do, but I promised them I would take the lead, and if something did happen to me they were supposed to retreat immediately. But I assured them that wasn't going to happen. With a brave speech and everything. We made our way to the bunker as chaos was being let loose. We had a simple time getting in and slaying those that didn't surrender to us. I found Storm in their interrogation room just smiling like an angel. I had never seen such a grin of superiority on her face before then, and it was the sexiest thing I could ever imagine. In the end, we accomplished setting those slaves free. We stayed behind to teach them everything we knew, to both ponies and changelings. It took awhile of hard work, but we achieved it.”

Fear was sleeping soundly, having dozed off some point during the story. Just relaxing in the bath that reminded him of safety and family somehow, and enjoying Sim's calming voice.

Sim noticed and sighed. “Mmh, good night Fear. I'll wake you soon,” Sim whispered, giving his son a kiss on the head. Then he began singing a song to his son that he'd been working on for the longest time. Every time he'd thought of that little colt, he'd put that energy toward expressing his heartfelt feelings. Not the ones tainted with jealousy and loss, but the ones built on a foundation of love and compassion.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYj0B71M06I

Fear's dreams were simple and clean, dreaming of no more than his father protecting him from his sins against Equestria.

==========================================================================================

Amelio had been dragging on the power of Luna's ritual for quite some time now, slowly recuperating her strength. She felt weak and faint. Barely able to hang on. Her consciousness was all that was left of her, and it was slacking. There was so much she was missing. So much of her destiny, so much of her mind. She could barely feel herself at all as she sat on her haunches in the middle of a white abyss focusing on the latent power converging around her. Shining bright on her like the sun on a plant. It was calming and peaceful. Energizing and invigorating. She couldn't get enough. Kind of like when you've just woken from sleep and you can't get enough of your cozy bed, or can't get enough of being asleep. Amelio was in that state, so hard to leave, so hard to do anything. She knew something was gradually sucking at her soul, at her very being. Trying to siphon away everything that made her, her. But she resisted against it, yanked herself back from the brink. Back from nothingness. From non-existence. She still had to see her brother again.

In her mind's eye she could see it, a diamond-like black hole in the center of everything, projecting out black light that took the shape of a giant lovecraftian catfish with terribly long and thick tendril whiskers that whipped and flailed, reaching out to grip any and everything. Its frog-like legs jutting out the bottom tipped with talons that struck the ground and buried deep into it. Claws that could lacerate her apart and scissor her into pieces of her former self. She could feel it coming after her. Could feel it opening its great big maw, those thick and plump lips gaping as a vacuous pressure formed, trying to suck her into its great big gullet. Into the black hole. It was the vast nothingness trying to swallow her whole, leave her as nothing. Her destiny, that three dimensional heptahedron wobbling and barely remaining stable. It was shuddering as wind passed over it, threatening to fall apart into links.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgBHTbRNlUQ

Amelio stood her ground, digging her hooves into the white floor and pushing herself back, trying to get away. It seemed like only a matter of time and eventually it would come for her, it would just suck her into its void. But Amelio was defiant, putting everything she had into struggling even as she healed herself and recharged. Amelio let out grunts and huffs as the creature closed its mouth and lashed out at her, a tentacle whipping around and striking her in the side, rattling her bones and making them crack under the pressure as she was hurtled off her hooves and multiple feet into the air, skidding across the ground and tumbling to a halt.

Gasping for air, Amelio tried to get back up, her body refusing to move. Everything was pain. She was so close. She refused to be pulled in, even as it started sucking on her once more. When it realized she wasn't budging, her will was assaulted all over again. But Amelio was ready. She pushed herself up and jumped over the tentacle, falling back to the ground in a heap, then rolling off to the side swiftly as another tentacle came ramming down onto where she had just been. Amelio let out a sigh of relief, but wasn't done yet. Every piece of her ached like it was sprained, she couldn't take much more. But she needed to do something. Amelio readied herself on swaying legs for the next strike, transforming her foreleg into a sharpened khopesh blade. She jumped up, twirled around, and slashed through it. The tentacle turning into misty darkness as the creature roared and howled with agony. Amelio crashed into the ground again, nearly skewering herself on her own leg. She got up as quick as possible, feeling a dose of strength return to her the more she fought. She wouldn't... give up. She ground her teeth together, a look of pure disobedience crossing her face, anger in every muscle, eyebrows leaning inward ferociously.

Amelio felt the next tentacle come, and the next. They slammed at her. Amelio jumped into the air, using telekinesis to push her body this way and that in order to spin around, becoming a slicing dicing machine of fury, her legs turned into blades, chopping through tendril after tendril of the ghastly creature. Eviscerating and severing limbs. All turning into smoke and ash that fell to the ground and dissipated into the air. Amelio felt some of her strength return, even as her destiny construct threatened to crash around her from how unstable it was, and she charged at the creature like she was on bladed stilts, using her momentum to carry her forward. As the creature reeled in pain Amelio lunged her body at the creature, pulling back her right foreleg and slamming it down into the creature's upper lip, giving it a new piercing, perforating a hole right through to the bottom, skewering it all the way through and into the ground. Amelio grunted as she put all her effort into breaking off that mutated dream part of her, and reformed her throbbing, hurting leg, climbing up onto the creature and swiping her legs through the fins, slicing them clean off. Then throwing herself at the black hole crystal creating the construct, rearing back her left foreleg, and punching it straight into the diamond.

Only it did nothing. Just shimmered.

Amelio fell down onto the writhing creature below her hard, and rolled off to the side, too tired to do anything else. But at least for now... she'd be safe from vanishing utterly.