Author's Notes:

This chapter is a little out there and contains sexual imagery in the context of education. No actual sex takes place. I alluded to this revelation in Nightmare Worth Dying For.

The whooshing of howling wind was ever present today. It had been about five days and it was snowing again. If the elegant flakes of frozen water came down any harder, any thicker, any more violently it would have been a full on blizzard. As it was it was rather calm and quiet, with a vague mist permeating the area. It was cold enough for ponies to see their breath, wispy trails of steam coiling about in the air and rising upward, mixing with everything else. While it wasn't chilly enough to be dangerous, it was certainly enough to be excruciating. Sim was taking the lead, his head up and following an unknown path. A trail only he could see. He always seemed to know where they were going, as if he'd been around long enough to have an internal map. That or they were just shuffling along a road. It was hard to tell which to be honest. Fear and Amelio were merely huddled up together for warmth. Well, Fear was. As powerful as his body heat was it was just nothing compared to the warmth Amelio was giving off right now. It confused the Tartarus out of Fear, he couldn't explain it, it was just another mystery heaped onto everything else that they wouldn't answer no matter how much he annoyed them by asking. Which was about three times so far. He could tell that no amount of prodding would get an answer. Amelio was cracking, but she believed heavily in her father.

Fear respected that. It reminded him of how he felt about his mother, which currently had a curtain of powder covering her body on his back.

In order to have something to do, primarily because Fear was bored and there was no way they could play traveling games in this weather while trotting, he decided to break the silence like shattering glass with a monotonous question. “Are you sure you can't tell me what's going on?”

Sim just shook his head, not that Fear could see it. It was a combination of denial and also Sim was impressed at the colt's persistence. Sure he had tried to distract him with other forms of conversation but Fear always seemed to be able to drag the topic right back to the things he wanted to learn about.

Amelio on the other hand was about to respond in good humor, able to read Fear like a book, but perked up instead. Her head reaching up into the air, ears standing erect.

Fear stopped with her. “What's wrong?” A moment later he felt it too. It was clear the older filly had more time to practice her craft.

“Dad, stop. There are...” Amelio's ears flicked. “Five ponies. A lot of malignancy. And maybe five others. They feel weary.”

Sim halted and looked back to the others, trotting over to them.

Fear piped up, glancing from Amelio to Sim. “Slavers, you think?”

Sim nodded. “I'm sure of it. We have no idea how heavily they're armed.”

Amelio left Fear's side as Sim told him to turn off the radio. While the wind might've masked it up to this point there was no reason in giving their location away. Fear hesitated, reluctantly lighting up his horn and flicking the switch. The smooth jazz tunes cut off instantly. Immediately Fear's eyes darted from side to side, his breath hitching in his throat and beginning to sweat, his limbs tingling. The father and daughter were busy whispering to each other. Fear moved a little closer to try and make it out, but the last thing said, the only thing he caught was.

“You're up Amelio. I'm counting on you. We don't have time to avoid them.”

Amelio gave a firm, defiant nod with pursed lips, pushing her mane back as she unclipped her father's knife holster and unsheathed the black blade, gripping the ivory handle in her charcoal magic.

Fear wasn't sure what to make of this. He wanted to kill the slavers and free the ponies on account of them being slavers (most likely), but didn't know what he could possibly do. He looked past Amelio and Sim. There was no way to see clearly through the snow and mist, so there was no way he could be of much use as a sniper, even if someday he might be able to sense where a pony was simply by feeling out their soul. Besides, there was also no high ground to hide in, even if the low visibility would conceal him too. Further, it was a lot of bullets. Five total provided he didn't miss one of his shots. And they'd be moving around after the first two blasts.

No, there was no way for Fear to help in this situation. He looked to his new friends, cocking his head to the side as Amelio suddenly vanished from his vision. Like she'd never been there at all she was suddenly just... Gone. Masked by snow and mist. Her entire body invisible. Fear's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and bulged out a little. “What??” The confusion was evident in his cracking squeak of a voice. It sounded like he was asking a question about a question.

Sim moved over to Fear and sidled up next to him, using his turquoise magic to yank Fear against his body, laying down in the snow, coaxing Fear's muscles to kneel with him. “Down here, Fear.” Sim draped a foreleg over the colt's back. It felt warm and comforting. Too warm. Unnaturally warm. Though the fatherliness present within it was intoxicating. Fear felt Sim's regulated, calm breathing and firm heartbeat, closing his eyes.

“What's she doing Sim?”

Sim smiled down at the colt with a tenderness in his gaze. “I don't like killing because it takes too much time off my life and I prefer talking things out nowadays when I can. But I've done it many times despite disliking it. Amelio's taking care of this group for us. We want to help the ones who've been captured after all.” Sim's grip around Fear tightened, squeezing him close and nuzzling into his mane.

Wait what? Fear thought to himself, vision bolting toward Sim's face with jaw agape as if he was about to have a conniption from the strange information.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFXqJ--L_Kk

Amelio was busy sneaking up on the group. Winding around them in a circle. Magical vibrations radiated out from her horn. Illusions of the highest quality – the quality of a noble – leaked from her and entered all ponies in the vicinity. Covering up the noise of her hooves in the snow. Hiding her breathing and body, whose entirety was transformed into a sheer alabaster. The illusion also masked the knife she was carrying next to her, which was quickly molding and melting. Changing shape. Lengthening outward into a short pole, a blade pricking at the end and extending outward like it was made of light before permeating fully into a physical construct. Still a white handle with a now giant, crescent, inky black blade. A miniature scythe that looked like it could decapitate anything with the right motions and enough pressure.

Amelio's eyes sharpened, swiftly transitioning into that of an owl's. Her gaze pierced through the hazy weather and stared at the ponies. They were in an arrowhead formation. Four behind the cart, two on both sides a fair distance away keeping track of what was happening, and one in the front taking point. The cart, complete with blanket-covered cage on top, was being dragged through the snow by a burly earth pony that they intended to sell. Amelio brought the scythe close to her body as she wound around, snaking through the snow and coming up to one of the ponies from behind. They were all armed to the teeth with primary and secondary firearms, thick cloaks covering their bodies and keeping them warm, as well as carrying full saddlebags. Amelio grit her teeth, narrowing her eyes and sneaking up right on the first pony's heels, glad that they weren't having any sort of perverted or macabre discussion like slavers and raiders were wont to do. A telekinetic ring wrapped around the first stallion's muzzle as the scythe cascaded around, slipping up against his throat. The tip brushing against the side of his neck.

Amelio didn't hesitate.

The stallion did. His eyes went wide, every muscle in his body stiffening from the sudden phantom sensation of a sharp edge pushing into his neck. He didn't have a single moment to contemplate it any further because a second later...

There was a brutal swipe.

The scythe penetrated through the fur and flesh, incising the head right off the shoulders. The body slumped into the snow as a fountain of blood sprayed up and tainted the white with gore, the head thumpfing into the snow and creating a small crater where it landed. The pony's eyes were bulging out, his jaw opening and closing as if to say something. The light in his eyes quickly went out, going dull and vacant. Not even having time for final words.

Amelio grimaced and lifted her head into the air. She hated killing. She hated the texture of blood on her hooves and the taste of it on her soul. But doing things nopony wanted to do was what leaders did, and she wanted to be a leader. So she'd bear any burden in an effort to be somepony others could look up to. Amelio flicked her head to the side as she approached the other pony on the opposite flank, none of them any wiser. Quickly beheading each and every pony in the back before they knew what hit them. Not even noticing their brethren collapsing lifelessly by a single filly's hoof.

Back with Sim and Fear, the stallion had finally responded. “It's complicated Fear. Maybe you'll understand someday. You're still just a colt after all.” Sim gave Fear a teasing wink, causing Fear's cheeks to puff outward, eyes glaring holes into Sim as he grumbled in frustration. He accepted it though. He might be able to annoy answers out of Amelio but Sim was like trying to yank something out of hardened concrete. His answers were held in tighter than teeth. Besides, he was still dealing with an anxiety attack, barely keeping his breathing under control as he rested against Sim's comforting body, sandwiched under his mother's.

Amelio had deadly precision. Perfect and lethal. She was a Lunar Reaper. A Moon Angel of Death. And she didn't stop there. Fear could feel each 'red light' leaving his awareness one by one as the filly continued her rampage through the snow, finishing it off by going up to the pony taking point and slicing away the unneeded part of his body as if it were vestigial. As soon as Fear felt the last cancerous light go out he flicked on his radio, immense relief flooding into him and making him sigh in bliss.

There was a loud scream and a whinnie as the bulky stallion's eyes, the one dragging the cart, dilated, suddenly rearing back onto his hindlegs from the sight of a guillotined pony. He was desperate to escape, thinking they'd just been ambushed by raiders someway, somehow. But being hitched to a cart made it slow and difficult to escape.

The commotion in front of the concealed cart caused the ponies in the cage to stir and stand. A raspy voice sounded out from within. “Powerhouse... What is it?” There was concern etched into it.

The stallion named Powerhouse screamed again. But there was a sudden shush as Amelio appeared from behind him, as if from out of nowhere, her body back to its original appearance “Shh! Keep quiet! I am helping you escape!”

Powerhouse stared at the lanky filly with disbelief in every piece of his body, one eyebrow risen high on his face. But he didn't have time to protest as he was quickly being unhitched with telekinesis, leaving him to go free.

“Hang there for a second, I need to get your friends out of their cage.”

“Powerhouse? What is...” There was a fit of coughing. “Is it?”

Powerhouse finally responded in a gruff voice. “I... I think we're being rescued?” The stallion was frazzled, his heart finally calming down after the unexpected attack. Quickly moving over to the slaver that was in front of him and gathering up his gear, wishing he'd been the one to take him out and save his kin.

Disoriented, surprised gasps echoed in the cage combined with baffled muttering. Amelio hopped up onto the cart as the scythe reformed back into a knife, the blade slipping into the hefty unicorn-proof lock. It began to change shape once more, filling out the keyhole and sliding the tumblers into place. When it was finished Amelio wrenched it to the side, clicking it unlocked, pulling the artificial key out and yanking the door open. The knife quickly reverting back to its normal shape.

Amelio gave the others inside a nod. “Get all the slavers' gear and get out of here, you lot. Take care of yourselves.”

The ponies were restless, trying to get up and work their legs once more. They looked like they hadn't seen actual light in a couple days. The one who'd spoken to Powerhouse looked to Amelio with gratitude. “Thank you. We don't even know your name but you've done so much for us. We'll take these weapons and... And everything back to our village to help protect it.”

The filly grinned cutely. “You do that. And my name is Ameliorate Reverie. I will likely see you again, I am sure.”

The stallion nudged the filly with a hoof as they all passed by her and started collecting up the gear. Amelio was swift in getting back to the others.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vQcKzdl0ow

Fear could sense Amelio coming and glanced from the direction she was in to Sim. “How... How did she do all that?”

Amelio shrugged as she came into view, then looked pleadingly to her father. “Dad? Can we please tell him now?”

Sim seemed to get a sadistic glee out of leaving Fear in the dark. But maybe it was time. He'd stayed silent and seemed to know when he was outmatched. Maybe he wasn't as impulsive as they'd assumed. There was always a chance. “I suppose we can tell him some things. What do you want to know first, Fear?”

Fear considered it, looking back and forth between the two, surprised they were finally giving him answers. His face hardened, knowing that Sim wouldn't explain the comment from before. Just anything involving Amelio most likely. He could feel the exhausted ponies from earlier leaving the area. “Well I suppose let's start with the fact Amelio released those ponies. I've picked locks with telekinesis by feeling things out before but that takes five minutes at least for even the simplest locks. I timed myself once.”

Sim shrugged. “Well. That knife I carry around with me,” the same knife Sim was sheathing again after Amelio hoofed it off to him, “is made from changeling carapace. They're incredibly valuable because pumping them full of any kind of magic will enable them to transform into whatever you will. Almost anything.”

Fear's eyebrows rose. “So you two are changelings?”

Sim grinned and leaned against Fear, staying close to him in order to keep him warm. “I'm half. Amelio is a quarter. My mother was a changeling. Her name is Emulae. Changelings need ponies to survive, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I'm sure you've noticed, but I'm under the impression Amelio's desire to be influential and a leader is the changeling side of her primarily, a desire to be a queen. And maybe something to do with her mother.” Sim's body became rigid at that moment.

Fear took the hint. Amelio's mother was probably a point of contention, or maybe a sour thing. Perhaps their mother had died too? He wouldn't bring it up.

Sim visibly relaxed when the inevitable question wasn't asked. Perhaps Fear wasn't nearly as impulsive as he thought?

The colt was busy recalling stories of changelings. How dangerous purebred ones could be. How they transformed and became all sorts of horrible monsters at will. That it took powerful weapons to take down the strongest ones. But they could also easily be starved to extinction and almost had after the war. He also remembered myths that the same radiation from the end of the war caused them to mutate into terrible beasts. Fear looked toward his mother with lidded eyes and grumbled. “This explains a lot, Mom.”

It certainly does, honey!

Sim could tell what was going through Fear's head. Of course, who wouldn't think of those stories? “They're not all dangerous. Some changelings, for whatever reason, will go so far as to reproduce with ponies, or if they can manage it, other species. Their fluctuating genetics allow genes to combine unlike most others. It's a matter of survival, and sometimes a matter of attraction. After all, a changeling pony hybrid has two, possibly three sources of nutrition. Still, most changelings prefer to lie low, because the Steel Rangers see them as a threat and unnatural.”

Fear recalled stories his mother told him about the Steel Rangers. How they were hoarders of technology and had their own way of living. Created by Ministry Mare of Wartime Technology: Applejack, they usually believed they themselves were meant to survive. Also that there were detachments of them with differing beliefs. Most of the ponies below the elders, the leaders of the Steel Rangers, were essentially brainwashed and hardly ever thought for themselves. According to her at least, they had no individuality or freedom. If they did, then it was just to decide which detachment they wished to follow.

There was a deep desire within Fear to befriend one, or at least test himself against one. Irrational, and probably crazy, but still there.

Fear came to the obvious conclusion, remembering one of his primary questions. Something that had been bothering him for awhile. “Okay, so is that what those things you ate are? Are they made of love?”

Amelio was surprised by the question as she laid down on her belly in front of the two males, her eyes widening.

Sim snorted amusedly. “Indeed. They're heart cherries. I take some of the love I drain from a pony when I comfort them and use an old changeling technique to morph it into a physical substance. Then I put it into one of my canteens. Eventually I take it, water, and changeling resin to create them.”

Fear was uncertain, fidgeting in place. “Is the feeding process painful? And changeling resin?”

Sim shook his head. “Not even slightly, Fear. In fact it can become addicting like a drug. And all changelings can produce a gooey resin from their teeth. Transformation magic mixes with a special substance and expels as a slime, eventually drying and hardening.”

The colt cocked his head to the side in curiosity, his ears flopping. “It isn't? Well that's good. What's it like?”

Amelio spoke up first. “A... Lot of ponies become concerned that it will hurt. After all, it is such an intrusive process, why would it not?” Sim just nodded once.

“Indeed, it is actually very pleasant. My mother did it to me when I was young just so I would know what exactly it was I was doing to other ponies, and so I could more easily cater the process to each individual. She believed it was important.”

Fear shrugged. “Well okay then, what's it like? I mean I don't really want it to happen to me right now, but maybe you can describe it?”

Sim considered it, and Amelio responded. “It is... Interesting. I will describe the process.” She introduced. “It starts often with cuddling, or any remote physical contact. Sometimes it involves light nibbling, but the real bite is metaphysical.”

Fear interrupted. “What's metaphysical mean? Actually wait I think that word was in my book once.” He quickly corrected himself. “It's like, uhh...” Fear tried to think of the word for it. “It's like when something is beyond physical, or a sort of spiritual physical right? Sometimes emotional?”

Amelio nodded. “Yes. It is the metaphysical fangs that matter, not the physical ones. A changeling will puncture the consciousness of a pony. It starts with a...” She hesitated. “Sharp, anxious sensation. It surges through you, but is quickly replaced by an unending calm.” Amelio's eyes darted from side to side during her explanation, as if searching the world for the words she needed.

Sim tried to explain it in better detail. “It's a little like... What's a good metaphor?” He tapped his chin with a hoof, looking up into the air. “Like the calm you get after eating a really good meal. You feel lethargic and incapable of much of anything. It's very blissful. Then a warmth takes root in the belly, expanding outward like a web, ensnaring your being and leaving you breathless, while a comforting cold spot forms at the base of your neck, around the spine. It's chilly and makes everything tingle. It's as if a spirit passed through you.”

Fear nodded, understanding it so far. He could almost imagine it. “I might ask you all to try it on me sometime so I can experience it for myself.”

Amelio smiled. “I would gladly show you, Fear. After the cold spot begins, goosebumps start flowing along the skin like waves of pleasure. That is when the feeding begins. Emotions, particularly love, are slurped out through the fangs. You can feel them leaving you so clearly it is rather... Passionate. And intimate. You hardly know it is happening. Just that you feel incredible. The remaining emotions slosh around inside of you and feel more apparent. As it continues there is a sense of rightness and fulfillment. It is like you are achieving something glorious, a feeling of purpose that nothing can really compare to.”

Sim added. “It is like a venom. You believe you are serving the hive. Just subconsciously knowing you are giving to something greater than yourself. It leaves you groaning and feeling like jelly. I have only been to a spa once, in Friendship City. And I would compare much of it to that.”

Fear was curious. “Is that why it's so dangerous? It sounds really amazing.”

Amelio nodded. “Yes, Fear. While there is some danger in going too far, draining too much love or too many emotions from a subject, the primary concern is in a pony becoming addicted to the sensation.”

Sim finished. “After the feeding process, a sense of anticipation and anxiety floods the subject as the fangs pull out. Then the emotions bubble up to the surface of their consciousness and congeal like a scab, leaving everlasting peace in its wake. Depending on how much you take out, the subject will start to feel... Distant. Disassociative. And light-headed.” Sim's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he searched for the right words. “It is very pleasant, peaceful, and hazy however. No matter how much is taken out you feel tired and sluggish. You just want to rest because you can hardly think straight.

Fear wondered. “I've heard talk of headaches afterward. What's that about?”

Amelio grinned, batting a hoof. “That is purely a long-term effect to constant mental control. Once the subject finally comes out of their state of relaxation and suggestibility...” It was hard to remember all these words! “They will sometimes get a headache. That, too, is because it is like a drug. Like painkillers, the mind becomes unused to thinking for itself and it becomes difficult to function alone.”

Fear kind of wanted to experience it for himself. It sounded fun. But all drugs were addictive. “You know, this reminds me. I often feel full and energized after sex. Do you think I might be a changeling?”

Amelio rolled her eyes. “I mean it is not insane but still unlikely... I think?”

Sim opened his saddlebags with magic and pulled out a heart cherry. “Here, try one. Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to experience it.”

Fear took the heart cherry as Sim continued talking.

“Also that explains your other question. The reason our body heat is so centralized and radiates out from us so well. Just gets trapped. Is due to basic application of changeling magic.”

“What else can changeling magic do?” Fear proceeded to pop the grape-like orb into his mouth. The effect was immediate as he chomped down, causing the liquid to gush out of the fluid-dyed resin and into his mouth. Fear looked like he'd been zapped with electricity, his entire body going rigid, muscles locking up and eyes bulging out even as he laid there next to Sim. His eyes then rolled up into the back of his head as his mouth hyper salivated over the meal, his maw becoming slick. Fear shook his head a little, eyes crossing and lips puckering up a moment later as if he'd eaten something sour. Then, before he knew it, his mouth twisted up as his body melted, eyes lidding and legs going weak. Fear relaxed on his barrel as he experienced his first dose of pure, unadulterated love. The water just seemed to bring out the taste even more. It was more chocolatey than anything he'd ever experienced in his life. And so much more... Fresh. “Mmmmnfff...” The energizing effect was fast acting. He felt like he'd had a full meal in no time at all.

Sim and Amelio laughed pretty loudly at his dramatic and vocal reaction to what they'd become accustomed to.

“The first one is always a doozy,” Amelio stated. Then sobered up. “Guess he is indeed a changeling. Who would have thought?”

Sim nodded. “It is. As for your question Fear, changeling magic can be used for all sorts of things. The imagination's the primary limit, but it's also determined by just how much changeling you have in you. It can be used as a weapon for those well-versed in transformation. You can increase the durability of your muscles, and even give yourself more. You can form carapace over your fur in certain places, the amount depending on how strong your changeling side is. Or for pure-bred changelings just toughening what is already there. It can be used for pleasure, such as forming cilia somewhere on or in your body, or even prickly barb-like studs. There's also auto-lubrication, and so many other uses.”

Fear thought about it, clearly in awe as he wondered just what Sim was capable of.

Sim didn't stop there. “As you might expect, due to all this transformation capability, changelings are also heavily immune to diseases, infections, and viruses due to our high mutation rate and evolution. However, because of this they're also predisposed to dangerous cancers. We are far more susceptible to them than any pony. Radiation can be dangerous. It might have the unintended side effect of making some stronger, but that is so rare it's basically .1% of changelings. It's not worth even attempting. And even then it doesn't work all the time.” He shook his head.

Fear nodded, understanding. “So if changelings are prone to mutations, is that what empathy is? Is it just a mutation?”

Amelio decided to take this question, tilting her head to the side. “Empaths are what they are due to the fact they have the same crystalline nerves that fill a horn also filling their entire brain. Webbing throughout it. Fused to the neural matter. It causes them to be sensitive to magic, and because it is attached to the parts of the brain that involve emotional processing, it allows for a sixth sense. And as I am sure you know, magic, destiny, souls. They are all carefully intertwined like a Gordian knot. You cannot pull one apart without potentially doing irreparable damage. That is why souls and destiny are forbidden magics and only zebras are familiar with it.”

That sounded a little scary to Fear. He swallowed hard.

Amelio lifted a hoof and raised it into the air. “Anypony can generate the mutation. I suppose it is not too surprising it occurred to both of us. There are other various evolutionary things changelings can experience. Benefits and detriments both. Empaths themselves come in all shapes and sizes from what I have been told. Any creature can develop it, though most exhibit it in different ways. We experience it like an antennae through our horns. Others might feel it as vibrations in their hooves, wind currents on their wings, or maybe see something when they look in another creature's eyes. It is all dependent on how the quirk manifests.”

Fear was impressed by... All of this. How could he have ever forgotten a filly like Amelio in his dream vision? It made no sense. “How do you know all this?” He asked in an awe-filled tone.

Sim shrugged. “My mother connects to her old hive mind now and then, and she taught me so much. I asked her about the empathy long ago one of the times I visited her, then explained it in detail to Amelio. It is possible for hybrids to connect to the hive mind, but they cannot usually do it from far away, so...”

Fear latched onto one part of that. “Hivemind. Does your mother come from one hive or the hive?”

A smile spread across Sim's face. “There are multiple hives. Queens primarily, but sometimes kings. They are expressions of their hive. Emulae comes from Viola's hive. Their expertise is in infiltration and reproduction. Utilizing stealthbuck-levels of camouflage to the point of near invisibility, and secreted aphrodisiacs. Here.”

Fear cocked his head to the side. 'Here' what? He got his answer without even asking the question a moment later when he caught something out of the corner of his eye, bolting his vision over to stare at it. It was... A changeling?

Covered in glorious black chitin, the changeling towered up to nearly Princess Celestia's full height when she was in her prime. She had brilliant amethyst eyes with watermelon pink polka dots sprinkled about like some kind of exotic flower. Crystalized sap of the same hue as those dots was strung along her long legs and drenched over her sharp, long horn, like an encasement of translucent armor flowing over pure ebony carapace. As black as a calla lily. With very few holes in her form to speak of unlike most changelings. There were overlapping plates along her abdomen and neck. Around that neck was a mane of pink fur, like a gorgeous fluffy moth, the same hair forming a tuft on her head and flowing from the dock of her tail, looking like a rod of fuzz. The shell on her back was a brilliant, gleaming violet with a glossy surface. Her wings a sparkling, glimmering fucsia. Insectoid in appearance. Protruding from her skull were a pair of jagged ears that looked more like a crown of seashells than aural sensors. The figure in front of him said something, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. All he knew was her that her voice was potent and viscous. And the power he could feel her exuding produced a strange clarity like putting on glasses, it stuck fast and didn't let go. Her presence was like nectar that seeped into everything around it. Still, it was calm and had a hint of sedation. Fear wasn't sure he could continue remaining in such a presence. But just as fast as it appeared, it was gone. Vanished from his sight.

“How did you do that?” Fear asked curiously, his eyes wide in a combination of fear and excitement. “I saw her like she was actually there!”

Sim considered telling Amelio to try her thaumic connection with Fear but decided against it. Then shrugged. “It's simple illusion magic. It goes hoof in hoof with transformations. Amelio used a combination of the two in order to conceal herself and her weapon from the slavers and slaves. Once she gets good enough she'll be able to also disguise the heat she gives off when it comes to organic infrared vision. Robots can't be fooled by those illusions however, only transformations.”

Fear thought about it, impressed at how far Amelio had come. Whereas Fear had learned to be a sniper, sort of, Amelio had clearly learned how to be a stealthy killer. “What are the other hives?”

Amelio just kept quiet as Sim spoke. “There are big ones and small ones. The other one I'm personally familiar with is Solanum's hive. His excels in subjugation and combat. They're able to stretch their bodies in any way as if they're rubber without the use of transformation, and are often capable of injecting paralyzing venom through their fangs. Some can even secrete a numbing poison from their hooves. There... Are rumors that some have discovered how to harness, and are aided by the mutative effects of radiation rather than being harmed by it. But I don't know the full legitimacy of that rumor. Still, if you ever come across one you should never engage.”

Fear caught something out of the fringes of his vision once more. Another majestic and regal changeling covered in chitin of the purest black. It looked a little like latex in how it shimmered in the light. The form reaching taller than Viola had. His eyes were a piercing, sickly golden hue. His ears were a pure eggshell white, as were his wings. Overall he wasn't nearly as entrancing in appearance as Viola, and he had many holes in his legs and lancing, curved horn. However, his voice was another matter entirely. It was toxic when it touched the ears. Seeping in like liquid poison and getting into the cracks of the head. It was multi-tonal and impossible to resist. Impossible to rebel against. It took all of Fear's will just to not fall into place from the sheer power in it. And his presence was just as commanding. Like a thick miasma that brought Fear nearly to his knees in worship. He couldn't understand why he was so easily swayed by such a... Monstrous creature. He was clearly bad news. And just like that the vision wasn't there anymore.

Still. Instead of being scared, Fear was curious if he could befriend a ling from the Solanum hive. Or have a friendly spar. See which was better, their physical attributes and transformative powers or his... Well, he only had a Garand, so certainly not his guns. Too bad.

Sim spoke up again. “Speaking of changeling attributes, you may also be intersex like I am. In that you can lay eggs as well as fertilize somepony.”

Another illusion overcame Fear. In front of him were a trio of eggs. They looked like peeled, lime-green oranges with translucent surfaces. A foggy, swirling interior. Thin, bulging dark-green blood vessels. And a dark green yolk deep inside that was faintly throbbing. They sat in a pool of neon green, pasty, gooey, slick, and oily fluid that Fear recognized as being nutritional in nature. The illusion was a little uncomfortable and squicked him out slightly, causing him to close his eyes and cover them with his hooves.

Amelio was also flush from the sight, not feeling comfortable either.

Sim just laughed. “You know kid, given you love to tease my daughter so much you sure can't take any teasing yourself.”

Fear just huffed, glaring off to the side.

“Also, changelings don't usually need to worry about STDs, so I'm sure you're fine on that front.”

The colt hadn't thought of that at all. That was interesting. And kind of a relief. “So how do I go about laying these eggs? And just find out if I can, in general?” It was good to remain informed!

Sim grinned. “Thattaboy. You're more mature than you let on. All you need to do is put pressure on the perineum-”

Fear cut off Sim. “What's the perineum?”

Sim shook his head. “Uh, right. It's the taint. The part just behind your testicles.”

Fear was still a little uncomfortable about this whole conversation, but understood it was better to understand his body than to claim ignorance when he could be knowledgeable.

“Essentially all you do is put pressure there and it forces latent transformation magic to switch around the tubes, allowing you to deposit eggs from your pouch, and also morphs the penis. It also causes a numbing agent to be released that painlessly relaxes cervixes. Of course, genetic material must still be supplied for fertilization.”

Fear nodded along, taking it in stride. Amelio on the other hand clearly was not enjoying this conversation very much. Though she'd had it maybe a year or two prior. Fear though decided he'd try it another time. When he was alone. “Hey Mom why'd you never tell me any of this?”

Because you're too impulsive, my little Nightlight.

There was also the fact that she never told him anything new, he realized.

Sim piped up. “She probably didn't want to make you worry. I'm sure she couldn't tell you how to manipulate that part of you anyway, so it makes sense.”

Fear affirmed that with a nod. “I suppose... It's not like I ever knew my father so it makes sense. I'm sure he just ran off on her after having me. That seems like a very wasteland thing to happen.” Though he did recall his father was technically a hero in the eyes of some ponies, as was his mother, that didn't mean he was a good father. “I don't particularly hate him for it though. I mean it's not like we couldn't get along without him and, who knows? Even if he was there doesn't mean Mom would have survived. He could have died sooner. Just because you're a hero doesn't mean you're invincible.” He looked to his mother, a small fit of disassociation creeping on him, making him feel like his awareness was rising off his body and he was looking at himself in the third person.

Sim just stared at Fear longingly.

Amelio found the words to be oddly wise and realistic. Fear was clearly a humbled pony, and not very judgmental. She thought about how her father was a hero, and how he was eventually going to die too from either another pony or natural causes. And due to his disease Amelio would likely forget his existence one day. Life was miserable.

Fear broke the mood by asking the other question on his mind. “What were your parents like Sim? Why'd they get together? Was your father scared of changelings?”

Sim smiled broadly. “A lot of ponies are scared of changelings, but not quite like back when there was propaganda about us. There's still a lot of fear because of a changeling's appearance, and the fact there is little to no knowledge about love, other emotions, and how a changeling interacts with them. But my father was a very brave pony and loved all creatures equally. Even Hellhounds.”

Fear recalled Hellhounds. They were those gruesome, brutal mutations of a regular diamond dog. Dangerous as all get out. Fear wondered if they were loyal friends if you managed to get close to them. Even he didn't want to try his hoof at fighting one though. They were literal beasts in combat, from what his mother told him, and not to be trifled with. Fast as a speeding train, and as powerful as one too. And those deadly claws... Fear shuddered.

“If my father, Pumpkin Pep, ever found one that enjoyed his food he'd offer a friendship with them. Emulae loved what he had to offer the wasteland, and loved him for his spirit. He had the qualities of pony kind that she couldn't get enough of.”

Fear ‘huh’ed. “I hope I get to meet them someday.”

Sim shrugged again, rolling his shoulders. “I'm sure someday you might be able to.”

Amelio felt a little uncomfortable. “Hey Fear? Can you read us more of that book?” She kind of wanted to escape into another world.

Fear grinned. “I thought you'd never ask! Sure!” And with that he began pulling out his novel, Tormented. All while they stood up to get going, with Amelio hanging out next to Fear's side and helping keep him warm with her body heat.

Continuing where he left off, Reiki and Sunrise had been getting to know each other for quite awhile, going on dates and really hitting it off. They were there for each other when they needed one another, and were growing closer by the day. Eventually they decided they ought to get married, after all no better time than when things were at their saddest and most stressful to do something happy and memorable. There'd also been stories lately that were being kept lowkey about ponies being gripped with War-Time Stress Disorder, an ailment similar to PTSD but not treated nearly as well. The Ministry of Morale was picking up those thought to be a problem in order to 're-educate' them into being joyful. It was a little disconcerting, but it was better that than leaving them to suffer right?

Unfortunately Sunrise was called to the front lines soon after. Things were going well for awhile, as they sent letters back and forth, counting down the days to the end of his tour of duty so they could have their ceremony. But one day the letters just stopped coming. And soon after a pony came to Reiki's home with the terrible news. Distant Sunrise had been killed in combat. Reiki was beside herself with sorrow, feeling like she'd lost a piece of her soul. She was weak and couldn't even leave the house. Caramel Frame came to her house now and then to help get her on her hooves so she wouldn't be taken away, but it was difficult. Especially since Frame was dealing with some misery of her own, having lost her brother some time before in a freak accident. They tried to be there for each other but eventually it wasn't enough and Reiki was taken away, never to be seen again.

Or at least that's what Frame thought. Frame missed Reiki too dearly. Her work was suffering too. And as Reiki started to make herself a home in the brainwashing institute, going along with whatever parties and plans the Ministry of Morale had for her, trying to keep her in high spirits, she found herself slowly sleeping more and more. It seemed a lot of the ponies there were beginning to do that. And every one of them had a common thread. They were seeing their loved ones a final time in their dreams. There were so many patients there, from those who were the sole survivor of an airship accident to those who'd gone crazy from stress and did something they regretted. And eventually Reiki had that same dream. A dream of a manor that Distant Sunrise led her into. She began to sleep more and more, just for a chance to catch up with him in that mansion so that she could speak with him one more time. And during that time Caramel Frame was brought to the same facility. They were together again, and quickly falling under the sway of this strange curse.

Fear decided to take a break there for the day.

Amelio was curious. “I wonder if you can actually meet dead loved ones in your dreams. I wish there was a way to learn how to dreamwalk.”

The colt grinned and flank bumped her, barely even budging the filly. “I'm sure if anypony can figure it out, it's you.”

Amelio blushed a little. “Thank you, Fear.”

Fear continued, waggling his eyebrows. “I mean I'd love to have you rooting around in my dreams doing weird things.” He giggled a little.

Amelio huffed hard, snorting a little and shoving Fear over onto his side, forcing him to crash into the snow. Fear just laughed.

“Of course I'd also love to be able to see others, especially you, one more time.” He gave her a little wink.

Amelio just looked up, snootily. “Well, maybe I would consider visiting you if you stopped flirting with me for one single second.” Both of them could tell Amelio loved it though. “But yes, I hope you would visit me too.” She turned to her father. “That goes doubly for you, Dad!”

Sim laughed and twisted his head around to stick his tongue out at the two of them. “Perhaps. Who knows?”

DJ P0N3's voice echoed out of Fear's radio. “Remember, children! Be careful where you step in life. The wasteland is a dangerous place and learning can create trouble. Information is more valuable than caps, and far more perilous. Knowing the wrong things can make you enemies. But in the end, they can also bring together allies. Be careful who you trust.”