Changelings in Silver Sunlight

by Nameless Narrator

First published 19th of July, 2019

One little drone creatively survived the invasion of Canterlot by not being there. He gathered friends, and managed to save the world without anyone knowing. Now, he's the king of a new hive, and it's time for him and his family to walk in the light.

2.9.2019. FEEEEEEAAAATUREEEEDDD!

Updates: Weekly-ish.

The boss and his little hive are back one final time, sticking their chitinous noses where they don't belong on complete accident. Now they'll have to deal with an organization of specialists responsible for purging darkness that would make paladins hide under their beds - Order of the Silver Sun.

Two years after them finding home in the dwarven underground city of Brauheim, a unique opportunity presents itself, the opportunity to make their case and intentions clear to the surface world. Can the group of changelings who previously made enemies in the highest places prove that all they want is peace and...

...okay, to eat love, punch bad guys, and in some cases toy with the minds of ponies.

Let's take a step back. Can the boss finally prove to everyone that all HE wants for his hive is safety and peace?

1: ROAD TRIP!

Open plains covered in a blanket of snow spread as far as eyes can see, namely the two eyes belonging to a robed equine with a long trail of tracks leading from the figure to the distant forests to the south. The weather here up north is almost pleasant today, at least compared to its usual blizzard-y goodness which the traveller is used to. Hole, sometimes you can still see grass under the snow, which is practically sunburns territory for most locals. As it turns out, taking the long trek to the Everhoof range in summer for once was a smart idea.

A gust of wind blows the hood off of the equine’s head, revealing a black, chitinous carapace of a changeling. The changeling isn’t bothered, opting to look around with a chuckle instead covering her head again.

“Summer trip still doesn’t mean a seaside vacation, I guess. Maybe I should have taken the Crystal Empire tunnel...”

The changeling’s casual stride through the vast whiteness towards the distant mountain range doesn’t slow down in the slightest. A keen observer would note that the changeling can’t be a common one, unless her form is an actual disguise even now. First, she’s got a mane, a feature common changelings can’t grow naturally, a grey one streaked with pink. Second, her eyes aren’t the full insectile teal, rather a shifting pattern meant to distract anyone she desires to. And third, her carapace is decorated with lighter stripes resembling zebra’s. In fact, her whole shape is more akin to a full-bodied zebra rather than a lithe changeling. A full-bodied zebra from adult clop movies, to be accurate. Despite that, she’s carrying a big, military-grade backpack filled to the brim, and isn’t short of breath even though the nearest civilized settlement is over a full day’s trip away.

In short, her rough surroundings don’t take anything away from the changeling’s obvious confidence and power.

Her ear twitches.

“Heh, gotcha!” she smirks triumphantly, and kicks a cloud of snow in a seemingly random direction behind herself. The snow lands on something previous invisible, and reveals a vastly tinier equine stalking her, this one about half the size of a common changeling drone, suddenly busy wiping the white blanket off of its face, “You know you can’t hide from me, Eleven,” she sticks her tongue out at the little changeling who beams back with a mouth of full-sized, sharp teeth.

“Stalked-”

“-you-”

“-since-”

“-the-”

“-forest-”

“-miss-”

“-Gem.”

One sentence, seven different mouths from different angles.

Green sparks run through eleven equine shapes in varying distances away from Gem, all waving and returning from blending seamlessly with the scenery of white and faint green into clean, black changeling forms. Gem pats the head of the closest one, and all eleven faces light up with pure joy. They wither a little when Gem shakes her hoof afterwards.

“Forgetting to sync your mouths again?” she raises an eyebrow.

“Was focusing on not being seen too much, miss Gem,” the body of Eleven in front of Gem pulls off a whole sentence from one mouth with some concentration.

“I could sense you in the forest immediately. Does dad know I’m coming?”

Eleven shakes his head.

“Doesn’t know. Expects from your letter. You never take the tunnel. Wanted to catch you to show new entrance. Been out here for three days. There are wild minotaurs and animals. Fun!”

“New entrance to Brauheim? Lead the way then,” Gem nods at the speaking Eleven, “How did dad persuade the dwarves to finally build one?”

“No dwarves. New drones. Boss teaches proper digging. New hive.”

Gem’s sudden burst of laughter makes Eleven tilt his heads as he leads Gem in a slightly adjusted direction rather than straight north towards the Everhoof range and the minotaur city of Rift.

“Did mom finally lock dad in a cellar and didn’t let him out until she was full with a new clutch of changelings?”

“How do you know?” Eleven’s eyes go wide.

“Call it an educated guess,” Gem snickers. From the corner of her eye, she notices one of Eleven’s bodies get closer and closer. A quick peek from out of all changeling eyes around her, Gem notices that while the Eleven in front of her is leading the way, the others are gathering around her in an attempt to be out of sight, “No hug pile!” she says firmly, much to the dismay of Eleven whose bodies back off into a protective formation around her, “I’ve got something important for dad in the backpack, and I don’t want to risk it getting wet. The bag is made from the same stuff the Royal Guards use for swamp missions, but I don’t want to test my luck. I’ll give you a proper hug when we’re out of the snow.”

“Okay,” Eleven brightens up a bit. The small procession consisting of two changelings and twelve bodies proceeds to trudge through the snow with only the occasional exchange of words as Gem recalls something Canterlot-related that Eleven might find interesting. Hole, has it really been over six months since her last visit?

Nearly three hours later, a flash of light in the sky makes Gem look up, and grit her teeth. She reflexively grips one of many corked vials on a set of belts criss-crossing her chest under her robe. Eleven backs off as well, all bodies scattering around, and taking their usual chameleon-like chitin transformations.

Soon, the flash turns out to be an object hurtling towards the ground at meteoric speed, apparently screaming-

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!”

-all the time.

A certain specific hive link lights up in Gem’s mind, making her ease up and smirk.

What are you doing here, miss One- I mean, Comfort?

“YYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” the screaming ends with a loud *thud!* which scatters snow and dirt in a tiny mushroom cloud, strangely enough tipped with pink smoke. Gem and Eleven pick up the pace, and in few minutes close the distance to a small crater with a dizzy, yellow-maned changeling mare sitting in its center and blinking.

This changeling could pass for the ideal model, with her soft features and slender yet fit body shape marred only by a half-open mouth filled with possibly many dozens of needle-thin and sharp teeth which would send a shiver up any usual outer-space horror’s spine, if those fishy tentacled fucks had any.

“Aheough...” Comfort tries to speak, then frowns and spits out a chunk of dirt, “Owww...” she adds by the way of explanation, “You really need to find a better way to summon me, Gem.”

“I wasn’t trying to summon you at all, Comfort.”

“And therein lies the problem!” grumbles Comfort, the ex-number One of Gem’s hive, “I don’t know why it is so stupidly difficult to teleport divine creatures using magic, but it is. I really wasn’t expecting that trying to move around the world on my own as a succubus would be such pain in the ass. Can’t you just, I don’t know, have some canvas with a portable demon summoning circle on you and call me every other evening or so?”

“Would that work, actually?” Gem helps Comfort dust herself off, and Eleven resumes leading the way. Of course, not before two Elevens jump on Comfort’s back and sit down, observing the area like two automatic turrets on an Imperial dreadnought. Comfort just sights as she realizes that from her former glory of the hive’s best of the best, she’s been relegated to a taxi.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try. Anything is better than trying to teleport. Wish I had someone to ask about this, really.”

“What about Scream?” Gem tilts her head. The alicorn of Lust, and the… owner, manager, or however it works with the succubi should know.

“I think she’s… gone. Her place is deserted, and I haven’t seen her since we got her the Silversmith blueprints. I’ve been busy with the summonings and everything. Time sure flies when you’re a demon. Literally. I’m pretty sure that sometimes when I get summoned, it’s retroactive.”

“Umm, what?”

“I mean that I probably had weird, demonic, tentacle sex with someone yesterday and I’ll get the summons in two weeks of my time. Kinda hard to schedule stuff like that.”

“Can’t you, I don’t know, refuse a summoning?” Gem instantly finds a hole in Comfort’s explanation, “Every succubus summoning ritual can’t be successful, right? I’ve read some books from the Canterlot castle library’s secret section.”

“Then you PROBABLY KNOW MORE THAN I DO!” snaps Comfort without any real anger aimed at Gem, rather with a lot of annoyance at her situation, “Wait, how did you get to the castle library? Isn’t that place guarded?”

“Diplomatic envoy privileges,” Gem smirks.

“What do you mean? Whose diplomatic envoy? Boss’?” Comfort’s scrutinizing stare proves too much for her ex-pupil.

“Fiiiine, hypnotic eyes privileges. Happy?” Gem admits defeat.

“Now thaaat’s the changeling way,” Comfort ruffles Gem’s mane.

“Still, the diplomatic part could be true soon.”

“Hmmm?”

Gem taps her backpack.

“I’ve got something for dad. Top secret, straight from Canterlot. He’ll either love it, or be scared witless. I assume a bit of both.”

“Tell me,” says Comfort.

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

“Tell me!” repeats Comfort, poking Gem in the side.

“I said no. You just have to wait.”

“BY THE POWER OF AZALGABOTH, MY AUTHORITY AS YOUR TEACHER, AND BY MY PROMISE TO BE AS ANNOYING AS I CAN BE IF YOU DON’T TELL ME, I ORDER YOU TO TELL ME RIGHT NOW!” Comfort’s voice booms through the snowy plains, making the Eleven’s on her back cover their ears.

“As much as I owe to you teaching me, still no.” Gem doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, “And who is Azalgaboth?”

“Fuck do I know?” Comfort huffs, “Fine, I’ll wait. Stupid… everyone gets powerful… then no one listens to their elders… total anarchy… Chrysalis would never put up with this...” she keeps grumbling, “Can’t even bite anyone… would have to explain...”

“If it helps, I promise you’ll like it,” Gem gives Comfort a friendly smile, “It’ll be a chance for you to parade yourself around, and mess with the heads of… mostly everyone really, in moderation.”

“Oooh! Are we going somewhere, or is someone visiting?”

“Yep.”

“Yep to which one?”

“Just yep.”

Comfort narrows her eyes, but her further questions are interrupted by the Elevens on her back shifting around and jumping off.

“We’re here,” says Eleven, and all his bodies rush towards a pile of boulders next to a pond sticking out of the scenery like a sore hoof. The faint cloud of steam around isn’t helping the inconspicuous aspect of the place. A quick examination by both Comfort and Gem doesn’t reveal anything unusual about the rock formation, and they both look at Eleven who points at the water, “Hoof.”

Comfort pokes the water surface, and raises an eyebrow.

“A hot spring?” she asks.

Gem immediately lowers her hoof in there as well. Two days of walking through the snow did leave a mark even on someone used to taking this trip in much worse weather.

“Ohhhh...” Gem steps into the shallow pond with all fours, knowing she’s going to regret it when she walks out again, but the overall chill melting from her legs up is worth it, “Wait...” she consults her internal map, “We’re right above Brauheim, aren’t we? This is heated by the same vents as the underground spa, right?”

Eleven nods.

“Right above the main plaza. Come,” he shoves his hoof into the water, fumbles around, and a moment later what looked like a solid block of stone moves away, revealing-

“A slide?” Comfort peeks into the smooth tunnel headed down.

“Mhm,” Eleven jumps in, body after body until only one remains, with ten echoes of fading ‘wheeeee!’ behind.

“Three came up with this, didn’t he?” Gem walks up, shaking the steaming water off of her hooves.

“Improved the design. Much more fun. Faster too,” Eleven nods at Comfort still glaring at the dark tunnel.

“I’m going to choke someone for this, and not in the fun way,” Comfort facehoofs, sighs, and jumps in, “Which idiot made this a corkscreeeewwwww…?” her voice fades into the distance, or depth to be more accurate.

“I hesitate to ask, but how do you get up if it’s all smooth enough to slide all the way down?” Gem looks into the blackness herself.

“Another button. Makes stairs,” explains Eleven, “Teach miss Comfort not to call me weird alien abomination...” he adds, grumbling, “Want stairs?”

“You know what?” Gem pats Eleven’s head, “Going blind into a pitch black corkscrew slide? I guess you gotta try everything once in your life. Is it safe for me?” she shows Eleven the glass vials under her robe.

Eleven nods.

“Very soft down. Dwarf airy jello thing. Not wet, not wet. Backpack safe,” he adds when he Gem pouts.

“Very well,” with a shrug, Gem jumps into the tunnel.

Huh, this is much more fun than walking all the way to Rift.

“Wheeeeeeeeeee!” half a minute of slowing down and speeding up later, she lands in something white, warm, and dry which absorbs her impact like the softest cloud. It’s somewhat difficult to gain some grip on anything, but the blob seems to be sloping down, and eventually she flops out on a less soft mattress where Comfort is sitting with an unamused expression, forelegs crossed on her chest.

The final Eleven flops out of the padding short way away from Gem, and with a practiced roll joins the rest of his bodies. Gem pats her chest, and finds all her equipment in one piece.

Then she greets the two dwarven guards armed with heavy flamethrowers raised halfway up.

“Hello, guys. Mind lowering the toasters, please?”

“Gem, Comfort. Friends of boss,” Eleven walks up to the guards who nod and salute.

The square room they landed in is fairly small, barely ten pony lengths on the side, and most of it is filled with the gel padding. It’s well-lit, though, and the square door leading out is made from heavy, riveted metal similar to the design of dwarven floodgates. There are nine round buttons next to the door, and one of the guards pushes them in a long sequence. The door hisses and clicks open.

“New technology? Neat,” Gem whistles.

“Yes, miss,” the guard nods, “A lot of things based on the ruined dark priest enclave got out of testing this year. Electronic locks are one of the designs released for general use.”

As Gem walks out, Comfort stares the two guards up and down, and taps on one’s foreleg-attached flamethrower.

“Those wouldn’t work anyway.”

Outside, Gem’s eyes go wide as she finally sees where the group are. She had no idea her guess was this accurate, especially when this place wasn’t here during her last visit.

The gargantuan cavern hosting Brauheim castle plaza as well as the castle itself spreads out under them as they stand on a long staircase with security railing on one side winding along the side of the cavern down into the city.

“I’m not walking,” says Comfort, spreading her wings. Gem joins her, much to the disappointment of wingless Elevens, “Does boss know we’re here?”

“I sure do. Welcome home, Gem. Welcome home, Comfort. I wasn’t expecting both of you,” I say, “Eleven, you’re free to do what you want. Thank you for finding them.”

“Sure thing, boss!” says Eleven. It’s much easier for him to talk via the hive mind.

With that, Elevens smile, and start running down the long stairs while Gem and Comfort fly directly towards the underground castle.

“Go go go LEFT!” yells a female changeling, this one without any specific features other than very fit physique proving her to be a warrior. Her order is punctuated by blasts coming from the rifle in her forelegs sending rubber projectiles down a long shooting range.

She’s yelling at a smaller female changeling, one with short, red hair with a braid swinging behind her with her every sharp, jerky movement to the side as she tries to avoid the projectiles aimed at her while switching lanes according to the shooting changeling’s commands.

Five switches to a sniper rifle lying on the table next to her, which Two uses to close another chunk of distance between them before having to duck again. Five blinks, noticing that Two’s gotten closer than she expected, and switches her weapon back to the assault rifle.

The next barrage of projectiles hits Two straight on… and they pass through. Five blinks, and when she opens her eyelids again, Two is rushing forward with all her might.

“Nice mental interference,” yells Five, grabbing two pistols, one with each clawed foreleg, “Right, right!”

Two’s dash turns into her trying to switch two lanes to her left while watching herself from Five’s eyes in attempt to predict where the warrior would be shooting next. Ducking under the expected shot, her prediction fails to match Five’s reflexes, and three rubber bullets hit a different leg each, tripping Two up completely.

Five gives Two time to get up by picking up the assault rifle much slower than she would do otherwise-

-and then rams the butt of the rifle into the empty air above the stone counter separating the shooters from the long lanes.

Suddenly appearing Two drops like a rock behind the counter, clutching her muzzle.

“Nice try, but I know you’re much faster and durable. You wouldn’t stay down for so long, and you would have made it to me in the time I gave you by switching to the assault rifle. The illusion you tried to put inside my head was too far away from the truth to believe.”

“Ah, damn...” Two jumps over the short wall out of the shooting range itself, this time without Five doing anything to stop her.

“You could be a great shot-” Five starts, and is immediately stopped by Two’s hoof on her mouth.

“Nope, I’m with my mother on this one. I want to use my own strength to protect the hive, not rely on devices which might fail. No offense, Five. You chose firearms to be your way of defending the hive, and Six is helping you maintain those, and I will focus on infiltrator skills and brawling.”

“I respect your choice, you know that,” Five softly swats Two’s hoof away from her muzzle, “But I believe that the most effective way to serve the hive is the right way and so far our training has proven me right. You’re not One, Two. She’s a changeling able to fuel her physical attributes to monstrous levels, you can’t. There’s no shame in augmenting your chances with some firepower.”

“I’m augmenting my chances with infiltrator skills, which she doesn’t have. If it’s not enough, I’m not good enough. Simple as that,” Two grabs two combat horseshoes from the equipment table, and smacks her hooves together, “Close combat now, or another target practice?”

“As usual. Close combat, than physical exercises,” Five hops into the lanes of the firing range to gain space. In the area for the shooters, the two fighters wouldn’t be able to maneuver well enough, “Mind if I say something first, Two?”

“What’s with the hesitation, Five? Normally, you’re honest like a stab in the eye.”

Five takes a deep breath.

“You will never be as good as your mother, no matter what you do,” she stares into Two’s eyes whose ears slowly splay back.

“Not by training with you, but when I’m able to fight you then I’ll start training with her and eventually-”

“You do know that I train with her, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You will never be able to fight her on remotely even grounds, no matter what you do. You’re trying to imitate something that is as close to pure antithesis of you as something can be. That’s why you’re failing even against me, and I’m a non-factor compared to her. I know that being able to punch the queen’s face off is your motivation deep down, no matter what you say, but it will never happen like this.”

“What do you know…?” Two growls, now baring her fangs at calm Five.

“I know that you’re an infiltrator with immense potential and secondary brawler talents who is trying to be a brawler first with added infiltrator skills to boost her close combat fighting in order to try to outclass someone who is raw force of melee disintegration.”

Two punches Five who dodges to the side, and swings upwards to catch Two’s chin. Two, however, flickers and appears behind Five, only to-

-catch a double hind leg buck to her chest. Two’s forced backflip lands her with her back on the ground. Five steps by Two’s side, her head hung low.

“We’ve been doing this for nearly two years. You’ve improved immensely, which I admire, so don’t take it personally when I say that this isn’t the best way for you to serve your hive.”

“I will train harder,” Two jumps back on all fours, “I will run myself ragged to grow my storage of love, to be more efficient, faster, stronger, better-”

“And you will still fail. You will outclass me, you might outclass miss Gem, you will outclass Seven with his divine knowledge, but you will never outclass Comfort or the queen.”

“WHY?!”

“Because you aren’t a murderer like them.”

That makes Two freeze, and her jaw drop.

“What? I would kill for the hive.”

“We all would. We all would fight to the death, but unlike for them, slaughter wouldn’t be our first choice. For the queen and Comfort that is. None of us butchered our way through the ranks of the old hive, always sleeping with one eye open in case someone significantly better and more fed would try to eat us. Queen’s desperate strength and ruthlessness are beyond anything we can imagine. If you ever want to fight her just to prove yourself, she will tear you apart without hesitation. You have never faced existential threats to her life which she’s done from the day she was born.”

Two turns away.

“I refuse to believe all this is pointless. All this training, the pain, the growth.”

“It isn’t,” Five nuzzles Two’s nose, “You’re fit, you’re intelligent, you’re powerful. You’re just trying to get up a mountain by filling a rubber ducky with farts and hoping that when you light up the exhaust the fire will send you all the way up. I’m simply suggesting you use proper climbing gear.”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Two taps the top of Five’s head.

“Well, Two, I’m just a dumb warrior. You’re supposed to be the smart one here,” she smiles, “Which, I believe, is the point I’ve been trying to make all along.”

Two sighs, shakes her head, and starts walking towards the wall separating shooter area from the lanes.

“What does it make me if I need you to beat this into my head, huh?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” asks Five, completely ruining the warm moment.

“Well, since this is pointless, I was about to find something that would help me-”

“I didn’t say our training was pointless, quite the opposite, actually,” Five steps between Two and the way to the exit, “Now, you will either get your lazy ass moving and drop and give me fifty, or fight me for the right to leave. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re and infiltrator crossed with a warrior or a warrior with the side of an infiltrator, because either way I’ve got a part of you to punch until it gets better.”

Two smirks, smashing her combat horseshoes together so hard it sends sparks flying around this time.

“Oh it is ON!”

“Still nothing?”

The question comes from a bulky changeling drone wearing an ill-fitting helmet and a long beard so fake anyone can see the wires holding it in its place, and with pink runes around his fetlocks and chest. He’s pointing at the Brauheim castle on the opposite side of the grand cavern hosting the main plaza of the dwarven city. From down here, it’s an amazing sight no matter how many times he’s seen it before, like a beautifully lit multi-layered cake cut in half and set against a wall. With guards, long bridge over a deep chasm ending in a magma stream, and tens of places or slots through which the defenders could fire anything with a barrel in a pinch. Alright, it’s a cake a bit on the militaristic side, so what? It’s still a glorious sight.

Three licks his lips. Maybe he could go get a cake later…

The question is clearly aimed at the many times larger queen-type changeling on whose back he’s sitting with enough spare space for a whole group of other drones, and who only sighs.

“I already told you many times, little beard. I can’t remember anything, at least not anything important. It’s the dwarven castle. We live there. I know I’ve been there a long time ago, but that’s all. I have no idea what I did there, it’s just… familiar,” the huge changeling’s long, azure mane sways as she shakes her head, her eyes of the same color narrowed and exhausted.

“You know that you look a lot younger than when Two found you?”

“WHAT?!” the pitch of Cryo’s voice goes so far up it hits its head on the ceiling, which still doesn’t mean much due to her normal tone these days being smooth, low rumbling of a jazz singer.

“Heh,” Three chuckles, “Have you ever heard about shock therapy?”

“Ahhh… shocking and raping,” Cryo smiles, “And pillaging too! Back when we used to fight everyone in the world. Fun centuries. Wait, I- I- I remember something. A- a- a beard. Damn it!” Cryo facehoofs so hard the crack rattles the windows of nearby buildings. Apparently, the impact that would break a house wall doesn’t faze her, “Why is that the only thing I can think of when my mind wanders?!”

“Awww, don’t worry,” Three climbs on top of Cryo’s head, grabbing her jagged horn to keep himself steady, “You might remember something important and you might not. You’re one of us, and that’s all that matters.”

“What? When did I get ear mufflers?” Cryo raises her voice, and Three shifts his hind legs away from the ancient queen’s ears.

“My bad.”

“Ooof, I thought my body started shutting down,” Cryo breathes out, “I’m old, you know? That can happen out of nowhere.”

“Come on,” Three pats her head, “Bad mom is over a town- trousers- thous- and years old, one and three zeroes, and she’s still spry and smart. Remember how she sent the infiltrator to spy on us and you sat on him on accident?”

“Ah yes, the one who groaned ‘Pull me out or just spread the cheeks a bit more and I’ll die happy’?”

“Yeah, like Ten, only he likes princess Celery.”

Cryo smirks.

“Maybe this old bag of chitin still has something left in it,” she resumes slowly walking towards the castle with a bit more spring in her step and a sway of her hips which certainly isn’t lost on many blushing dwarves walking around, the tallest of them reaching barely to Cry’s armored underbelly, “Aside from this epic beard I’ve got. Aw holes… again!”

“My repeated scans don’t indicate any presence of a beard, nor the ability of untransformed changelings to grow one,” says the up until now quiet third member of the small group, a mechanical metal equine of size very similar to Cryo, “I have to assume there must be a deeply important, beard-related, memory buried somewhere in Cryo’s psyche. And if I may offer an opinion, if I still had a biological body the size of this mechanical one and libido, I’d be on that booty like a diamond-tipped power drill.”

“Thanks, Grand-General Obvious,” Cryo furrows her brows, flattered, weirded out, and deeply in thought at the same time, “A grey beard, scary rocks, three swords, and a hole… empty, infinite hole...” she drifts off as her eyes go wider.

The three stand there in silence, or about as much silence as there can be in the middle of a bustling city of dwarves whose favorite passtime is blacksmiting.

“Cryo.exe has stopped working,” comments Stompy.

“I almost had it...” Cryo breathes out quietly, “Something crucial… and it’s all just gone again. Wait, what did I say?” she turns her head in confusion.

“Grey beard, scary rocks, three swords, and a hole,” says Three, “Sounds like a neat title for a book. Or like a set-up for a joke. A grey beard, scary rock, and a sword walk into a hole- wait no, that sounds dumb now that I think about it.”

“Exactly this,” Stompy plays a recording of Cryo thinking aloud and trailing off.

“No, I’ve got nothing...” Cryo frowns after few seconds of further thought, “Nothing but the grey beard. Everything is connected, I just don’t know how or why… or what with.”

“Aww, it probably doesn’t matter,” Three hugs her head from the top, “If you can’t recall old memories, you can just make new ones. You’ve got a hive, a home, everything a growing changeling needs.”

Cryo raises an eyebrow, examining her comparatively oversized hoof, comparatively to everything around other than Stompy.

“I’m not sure if I want to grow anymore. I’m already scratching the ceilings of some streets with my horn.”

“Airborne anomaly detected,” Stompy announces, looking up, “It looks like Comfort and Gem headed towards the castle.”

“Yayyy!” Three exclaims, “Let’s go greet them.”

I blink away sweat. Why am I sweating? How am I sweating? Chitin doesn’t have sweat glands.

“This is so horribly inefficient!” I complain as I focus love into my horn, and send another beam of green light against the rough wall of the cavern, which disintegrates the solid rock and slowly carves out a semblance of a tunnel mouth.

“We’ve been over this,” Seven, sitting nearby and gasping for breath, rolls his eyes.

“I know, I just want to complain!” I punch the wall, and cleave out a chunk with one hundredth of expended energy in comparison to the beam, “That’s like One screaming when she does push-ups. She isn’t really using the sound waves to help push herself upwards. Or like whenever you grumble that physical labor isn’t meant for infiltrators.”

“Break over?” Seven stands back up, swaying slightly.

“Break over,” I nod, and focus.

Seven’s hooves glow green, and he uses a flow of instructions from my hive link in order to start digging the bottom part of the tunnel ahead while I send another drilling beam from my horn.

You see, I needed to improve my ability to gather and focus energy outside of myself while Seven had huge holes in working with his body, but the best knowledge of using magic out of everyone I know. So, we had this idea to use each other’s experience to practice, which is why I’m currently digging a tunnel using concentrated beam of love instead of my hooves which would be hundred times faster, and why he’s doing the exact opposite. Focusing on one thing is great, but the best way to avoid plateaus is by getting out of one’s comfort zone, as Gem always says. I’d have given up months ago if it wasn’t so obviously working…

My eyes roll backwards, and when I blink a short moment later I find myself lying on the ground with Seven giving his cracked hooves a sad stare.

“I think my leg will break off if I go for another round,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, same goes for my horn,” I admit through the onset of a splitting headache, “Why do we do this to ourselves again?”

“To improve your focus, energy efficiency, and capacity,” Seven stands up and hisses when a twinge of pain that even I can feel rushes through his forelegs, “And to show Five that I’M NOT A SPINDLY NERD WHO GETS MUSCLE CRAMPS BY EVEN THINKING ABOUT MANUAL LABOR! And to look better without a transformation because you won’t let me use one to gather love and you still want me to do it without magic for no hole-damn reason,” he frowns.

“Oh shush,” I smirk, “You’re scaring the drones.”

This is where we get to the elephant in the room, or the thirteen drones, two infiltrators, and five warriors around in the cavern. Eight- I mean One has been badgering me about finally making a real hive for ourselves, which is something I agreed with. Don’t get me wrong, the dwarf castle is nice, but there’s just something about the good, old, black walls, green, bioluminescent crystals around, and all the fun of a proper hive. Of course, I would be a pretty bad ex-drone if I didn’t have my own ideas about improving on the age-old design of ‘if drones die while digging, we use their ground up chitin as wallpaper and keep going’ coupled with ‘if you can walk through without slipping and stabbing yourself on the nearest stalagmite, the tunnel is finished’. That part was okay with me, and that’s why the drones are smoothing out the cavern walls, and why the main connecting tunnel is a smooth square instead of the classic changeling rough hole. Also why the crystals made of green goo are on the walls in even intervals, and those aren’t only bioluminescent but also with added electric lights the batteries of which work off of the chemical reaction caused by us emanating love and refueling the goo crystals. Six and Seven have been hard at work along with the dwarven engineers interested in trying something new. Dwarves were actually trying to help with the digging a lot, an unhealthy lot in few cases. I’m all for opinions, but backseat digging? Big nope.

Fine… I will explain the new changelings. The idea of a proper hive under Brauheim was grand, as I admitted, but One insisted on me not being the one to dig the whole thing with Six and Three, but rather on us being in charge of someone else doing most of the work like a changeling ruler should. In short, we were good on love, so it was proper to make few more of us. I stopped it at twenty. We don’t want the Chrysalis situation to repeat.

I swear, she just loves being stuffed with so many eggs at once that she can barely wobble.

Oh right, and since she’s now rank One, she said she wanted to learn to be in charge more and do other things than punching whatever I point at, which is why we installed a target dummy made of bedrock into the council room after her first practice negotiation with Steelback and Granite in which she basically sold all of Brauheim’s steel stocks by accident. Not all of us are good at math, but we’re trying.

And I think that sums it up the best - we’re trying. Trying to get better at what we know, trying new things, simply trying to understand more than the little piece of the world we’ve seen until today. There are bumps on the way, but we’re together, and we have friends who help us when we need it. Now that is something I’m proud of, something which would be unthinkable in Chrysalis’ hive. Last time Gem visited, she said things were getting better for changelings under Chrysalis as well, but it’s hard to turn centuries of mistrust and fear around, I understand that. Progress takes time, and even for us it’s been barely two years since we took our place among the dwarves.

Now, a changeling from Chrysalis’ hive would ask why I have both warriors and infiltrators digging tunnels alongside drones. It’s not about lack of resources or time pressure, but about experience. The ‘higher’ classes of changelings need to know how difficult the work that drones do is, even though it’s quite often straightforward, and by hole they did learn fast when they didn’t recognize a spreading crack which would have caused a collapse of the tunnel they were in if left ungooped. In the same way, drones as well as infiltrators do physical and coordination exercises led by warriors, and infiltrators lead excursions between ponies for drones and warriors. Of course, they all have their natural strengths and weaknesses, but well-rounded experience could help them figure out a way to improve others would miss.

However, all philosophy and self-reflection questions are pushed aside when two hive links light up in my head, two I’ve been feeling way too rarely these days.

“Everyone, Gem and Comfy will be in Brauheim within an hour. Who wants to hear new stories from the surface?” I ask, and almost all work stops instantly, with few drones taking a second to process the information. Twenty pairs of eyes plus Seven look at me, “Anything that needs finishing so that some tunnel doesn’t drop on our heads later?”

The changelings shake their heads. Alright, they aren’t too much on the individualistic side yet, but they’re doing their best.

“Let’s go then.”

“And this is the average monthly production of steel ingots without reserves for ritualistic purposes, city security, and planned projects. The number we can pretty much safely trade off. The question is, do we want to do so under current surface circumstances?” asks a heavily built, grey dwarf pony with dim, orange beard wearing a dark violet jacket reinforced with steel scales.

“I… umm… there’s no security risk to selling this off, right? So yes, I would trade it for...” a much bigger, wine-red maned, muscular, and nervous to her long teeth, changeling ruffles the stack of papers lying on a smooth round table in front of her until she finds a document she’s looking for, “For this! The price minotaurs are offering for the leather hides is great for us, and you dwarves use those to make linings for plate armors.”

“Are you sure?” asks a chocolate-brown minotaur standing next to One on the opposite side from Granite, smirk growing on his face.

“You will not faze me anymore, Steelback! I’m immune to your mind tricks,” One glares up at him, “Yes, that’s my final word.”

Granite sighs.

“Did you read the offer right?” he asks.

“Come on! What did I miss this time?” One frowns at each of her teachers in succession.

Granite taps his hoof against the document One was so sure about a second ago.

“The minotaur offer is untreated leather. If you went with that trade deal, you would have given up non-perishable materials for perishable ones. Leather needs to be treated with chemicals so that it lasts, so we would have to do that ourselves, which means using our resources and our horsepower.”

One takes a long breath in, then out, and then says:

“Give me a second, will you?”

She stands up from the table, walks over to the bust of a pony made of bedrock screwed to a smooth pedestal in the corner of a room. Despite bedrock being the strongest building material the dwarves know and shaping it being exceedingly difficult, the pony bust looks rather battered.

Another breath in, then-

“FUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!”

With a roar that makes the other two cover their ears, One uppercuts the bust so hard it rips off along with the screws from the marble pedestal and buries itself itself in the ceiling.

She looks up, and sighs. At least the guards didn’t barge in this time, which can also mean they are getting used to her screwing up and needing a stress outlet. The original punching bag filled with ground granite(the material, not the dwarf) didn’t last even three sessions,

“Can’t I really just threaten them to stop splitting words or I’ll unscrew the heads of their whole diplomatic team, really?” a hint of desperation enters One’s voice.

At this point, both Granite and Steelback are used to this, and know they don’t have to tread lightly around One, or the queen as some changelings and most dwarves call her.

“The treaties aren’t just for you, queen,” Granite sorts the documents on the table which One messed up during their session again, “You won’t be making the purchases and trades, someone else will. Maybe someone who has never even met you. Someone who will have only the copies of the signed documents to go on. And even if you found out after the first shipment that you didn’t get what you wanted then what?”

“Facepunch?” One returns to a familiar territory.

“Whom?” Steelback asks, knowing where this is going.

“The responsible party?” One keeps going, “That way no one will screw this up again next time?”

“But you signed the deals,” Granite presses on, “They would have just done what you ordered them to.”

“But they wouldn’t have done what I wanted them to!”

Before either Granite or Steelback can say anything else, One raises her hoof and hangs her head low which ends any further chance of argument.

“Tell me, honestly, both of you,” she says, “Should I just stick to obeying orders and punching monsters in the face? I want your honest opinion, no diplomatic bullshit. Boss has infiltrators who will learn all this stuff in tenth of the time it took me to figure out one deal and mess even that one up.”

They’ve been here before. For Steelback and Granite, negotiating and trading is second nature by now. However, they are both intelligent enough to know what led to this point in their lives. Steelback speaks up first:

“Queen, One… I spent most of my life hunting wolves for pelts and spearing predators threatening my clan. When Dark Prophet united the clans and forced us into founding Rift, he brought teachers from the south. We didn’t know anything about industry or the value of what lies under these mountains. The teachers, average, good, or even bad returned home with gold we learned to mine first because we couldn’t tell the difference between them. We had our wisdom, our instincts for truth, and Dark Prophet. Dark Prophet whom I’ve learned that you brought us, queen. It took time for us to learn, and it will take you time. You might never be some silver-tongued orator, but you have values which count for just as much under the right circumstance - honesty, straightforwardness, and fairness. No one wants to make a deal with a liar more than once, and a trading partner who isn’t overly greedy is a blessing for both sides. In short, no, I don’t want you to stop learning. Yes, you have a long road ahead, and I’m one hundred percent certain that when your changelings eventually start producing something in the hive you’re building and want to trade, Granite here will take you to the cleaners with the first treaty, but he won’t ruin you. After all, you can’t do more business with someone you’ve destroyed, and you can’t do all the mining and crafting yourselves.”

“Wise words,” Granite nods, “Queen, I suggest you start taking at least one interested changeling with you on these sessions. Diplomats don’t do all their work alone, even Steelback discusses the draft offers back home before every step, and you know I go over those with the rest of the council.”

“That’s just so much to remember… how much of everything we’ve got, how much we can spare, what’s going on around that can change the numbers,” One slumps into her chair, “I feel stupid just imagining it. When I’ve got the papers in front of me it’s even worse.”

“Then let me ask you this, queen,” Granite looks One in the eyes, “Do you want to tell the king that you quit? This was all your idea.”

“That was before I knew how bad I would be at it! I’ve never been this useless at anything.”

“And what did you really do before coming to Brauheim?” Granite smirks, knowing the answer.

“I punched whom whoever was in charge pointed me at...” admits One.

“You can’t punch the whole world,” the corners Steelback’s mouth curl up.

“Try me!” One give the air the good old one-two punch and joins the two in a quick laugh, her mood a tiny bit better now.

The door clicks open, and only now One realizes that she’s been feeling new links for a while, but was too busy with the practice diplomacy session to notice. She almost jumps, and rushes towards the entrance.

“Gem, Comfort!” she pulls the two entering changelings into a bear hug, then gives both a kiss. On the lips, of course. We are no prudes. A creepy gesture anywhere else, but among changelings, sharing love like that counts for a lot. Every Eleven, not wanting to be left out, hugs the nearest changeling bit they can find, “Welcome back!”

“You really need to get out more,” Comfort licks One’s nose, “The look you gave me was the same you can see on old, lonely mares who just got their twenty-first cat.”

“Hey, I was out on the surface last-” One stops, “Oh holes...”

“Well, that’s something I can help with,“ Gem walks to the council table, “Nice to see you again, mister Granite, mister Steelback,” she nods to them, “Is dad around?”

“Welcome back, miss Gem. The king is down in the hive,” Granite starts packing the old trade reports One has been practicing with.

“We’ll be there in few minutes,” I answer through the hive mind, “Seven and everyone else are eager to hear what’s new on the surface. Unless it’s some horrible war. It isn’t some horrible war, is it?” I add.

“It isn’t, as far as I know. Though it will be a new territory for all of us in a sense,” she doesn’t exactly explain anything.

“We can give you privacy if you want,” offers Granite, but Steelback’s hand on his neck makes him look up at the minotaur.

“I think I know what this is about,” he says, “Warlord Darkhorn was getting everything ready in Rift for his absence as well.”

Gem smiles and nods at him.

“What absence?” asks One, “Is he stepping down or something? Do I have to learn the history and habits of a new minotaur leader to gain a diplomatic advantage?” she facehoofs, “Please, someone kill me.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Comfort laughs like a true villain, “And then the rank of One will be rightfully mine again, mwahahahahahaaaa!”

“Come on, you enjoy being a succubus too much to just sit around here,” Gem comments, unpacking some heavily sealed and secured square case and putting it on the table.

“But those don’t have a ranking system!” pouts Comfort, “How can I slap someone in the face with my rank when I don’t have any? Huh, HUH?”

“You’ll figure something out,” mumbles Gem, now focusing on unlocking the case crafted to likely withstand being thrown into a volcano. We can try that down here, actually. We’ve got magma out of the… everywhere, really, “Ah, hah!” she finally levitates a scroll, and breaks a wax seal with a… symbol of the sun?

Uhhh…

Now slightly on edge, I enter the room as the two guards outside salute me, Seven, and the twenty fresh members of our hive. Distant stomping shows that Cryo and Three are almost here as well, and a quick scan shows everyone else is already inside the castle too.

“Heya, dad!” Gem waves at me, “Hi, everyone!”

Few drones blush and look away, one brave warrior waves back at Gem, and the others mutter variously loud ‘Hello, miss’. I’m not bothered, changelings naturally sense power difference, and their inborn instinct is to be very suspicious of their superiors. We’ve managed to put them at ease with everyone they see regularly, but Gem, Comfort, and occasionally Ten still make them shy and nervous.

“So what’s this all about?” I ask. Can’t look on edge in front of the newbies, “Or do we wait for everyone first?”

“They’re listening in already anyway,” Comfort taps her temple, and looks at Gem, “Get on with it, since you’ve been so mysterious all the way here.”

“Ahem!” Gem clears her throat and unrolls the scroll, “To your Majesty, recognized as the king of the northern changeling hive. Princesses Celestia and Luna hereby cordially invite you and any representatives of your kingdom or faction to the regular diplomatic summit of world leaders in Canterlot. ”

Me? Canterlot? Without disguise? As one of the world leaders? Equal to Darkhorn, Luna, Celestia, the griffon head KFC… or Chrysalis?

Oh holes, oh holes, oh holes, oh holes...

Why is everything spinni-

*Thud!*

“Wait, all that secrecy was just for that boring thing? Ugh...” Comfort rolls her eyes, “I thought it would be something fun.”

I groan, currently being grabbed by One’s hooves in an attempt to get me up. Okay, the many tiny hooves of Eleven trying to help mostly just tickle.

“What do you mean?” asks Gem, her voice currently coming from above me.

“You’re forgetting I was on the first one after Chrysalis accepted the peace treaty,” Comfort shrugs, “and at the time everyone from griffons to zebras, as well as even the public opinion of ponies wanted us dead. The best opportunity for some action, and all the two weeks amounted to was a ton of toothless bickering about borders, resource trade, and migration. Boooriiiing!”

Alright, I can survive boring, right? We don’t have anything to trade, really, so maybe they’ll all just be ‘Hey, another group of changelings up north away from everywhere. Next point on the agenda?’.

I sit up, and breathe out.

“Granite, can I ask you a favor?”

“I’m not coming with you, boss,” the dwarf preempts my question, “In fact, I have something to ask of you.”

“Okay, let’s prioritize here,” I manage to stand up on my still slightly shaky fours, “First - yes, we’re going. We’ll figure out who is coming later. I suppose I can’t bring everyone, right?”

“Actually,” Comfort tilts her head, counting, “Considering the retinues all the rulers brought last time, thirty changelings would be on the sizable side, but nothing unusual. Griffons usually bring whole kitchens and caravans with meat. That’s hard to get in Equestria.”

“Still, it would be unnecessary and maybe even unwise,” Steelback butts in, “It gives the impression that you’re a pompous ass who needs to thirty nannies to take care of them. I think I know you well enough by now to realize that you want this to be more a learning tourist trip for the newbies than anything else, but others wouldn’t, and the first impression can be crucial.”

“So, if I have to leave the new chitin here-”

“Then you’ll need bodyguards, experienced infiltrators, and someone to keep an eye on things down here,” Five enters the room followed by Two, Cryo, Three, Six, and Seven.

“Exactly, but we’ll leave that for part three,” I nod, “Part two, what did you want from me, Granite? The favor thing.”

The dwarf scratches his head. It’s unusual to see him genuinely nervous.

“We… I mean dwarves… have never held any interest in the dealings of the upper world, and secrecy is one tradition I would like to keep. We trade only with the minotaurs, and even then we use dead drops or few trusted contacts. I realize that you are still our king as well as the ruler of your hive, so I can’t ask you anything without the council approval first, but I wouldn’t want this to be our political confrontation. I have to ask you to keep the secret of our existence to yourself, and leave any unique dwarf-made items and technology here. The obvious subjects are the queen’s sword, our ancestors’ helmet, Stompy, or miss Five’s firearms, but I don’t know everything you’re using in your daily life here. I am aware that you’ve had those with you on your occasional trips to the Crystal Empire, but on this ‘ leader summit’ you will be under heavy scrutiny from everyone.”

“No biggie!” Three hops off of Cryo’s back, and puts both his helmet and the fake beard on the council table, “Here, I’m Three the dwarf, but up there I will be… hmmm… tell me when we’re leaving!” he shoots out of the room.

I shrug. At least someone will be prepared for the summit, though I’m not sure how.

“Hey, considering that the crazy griffon guard found us even here while looking for this,” One pats the Sword of the First Emperor sheathed next to her chair, “Promenading myself near the real current Emperor with it doesn’t seem like a smart plan. Oh yes, and I’m coming with you, so no getting clever ideas about leaving me in charge here.”

“Yeah, same here,” Comfort waves her hoof dismissively, “Because there’s no guarantee I won’t be summoned in the next few minutes, unable to return for however long.”

“Alright, Granite, we’ll leave any specific things or technology here,” I promise.

“But muh gunz...” whines Five.

“Will still be in your hooves, because you’re staying here,” I look straight at her.

“What? Why? I was just kidding!” she leans backwards as if struck, “I can protect you even without those, boss.”

I raise my hoof, and she shuts up instantly.

“Which brings us to point three. You will stay here, because I need someone to keep an eye on the hive and who knows a lot about inner workings of both Brauheim and the hive. You, Six, and Seven will stay as one drone, one warrior, and one infiltrator. Together, you should be able to deal with any unusual situation, and you were in this position before after all when One was in charge of the split city.”

“I didn’t do much of the actual politics and ruling, true,” One shrugs, “Seven is a great choice for this, I agree, and Six is the most social guy out of all of us. Plus, this way they’ll be able to properly oversee the construction of the hive.”

“Granite, they will be attending council meetings like I do,” I order.

“I will inform everyone, boss,” he nods, “If it helps, I doubt there will be anything relevant going on in the next… did you say two weeks?” he looks at Gem who nods, “Treaties are done, expansion projects are running, and we haven’t had a serious public concern in months.”

“We won’t fail you, boss,” Five salutes, though I can still sense that she’s disappointed by my decision.

I make sure the next thing I say through the hive link isn’t heard by anyone.

“Five, if I knew there was someone better suited for this than you, I would tell them to do it, but there isn’t. If I left only Seven, he’d lock himself in the library and starve on accident, and while Six knows the most out of all of you, he doesn’t have your authority. I won’t need any additional protection with One, Two, Gem, and possibly Comfort there. I’ll need infiltrators with a lot of skill, not muscle. Fighting someone would only make things worse, I have no doubts about that. Now gather yourself, temp-queen Five. You’ve got a hive to run.”

“I will do my best, boss,” she answers.

“She won’t,” adds One, only for me to hear. I can’t lock her out of my head anymore, so if she isn’t distracted, she’s basically me. One mind in two bodies and so on, “She will make everyone do their best.”

“Alrighty then, point four. Who’s coming? I won’t force anyone, but I see it like this: One, obviously, Gem and Comfort. Two, I want you around, you’ve got a lot to see and learn. In case Comfort disappears, I’ll need more infiltrators by my side anyway. Three- oh right, he’s gone. Well, he’s already getting ready, so knows he’s coming too. And Eleven… hmmm...”

I face eleven pairs of puppy eyes, if a begging puppy was trained in a mountain monastery led by the puppiest of puppies for fifty years, achieved grandmastery, and then set out on the world. It’s mind-shattering, almost like a staring contest against Three, but what Eleven lacks in quality he wins in quantity.

“Fine, you’re coming too,” I admit defeat and find myself weighed down by bracelets made of live changelings.

Chrysalis and other rulers will eat me alive if I don’t have the willpower to tell eve Eleven no.

I sigh. Ever since Chrysalis found us here two years ago, it’s been eating me inside. I didn’t tell her off, I didn’t say to her face she should shut up in my territory, the home I fought and risked lives of everyone for. I even had a panic attack just thinking about the responsibility of meeting world leaders. I can’t even bring myself to think other world leaders. I’m a king on the surface, but no matter how hard I try to keep it under wraps, I’m a drone deep down, and drones are scared of everyone for good reason.

“No, they aren’t anymore,” One interrupts my train of thought currently hurtling towards a broken bridge, “Not down here, and even those still under Chrysalis a lot less than before. Both are because of what you went through. They will never know what you did. Hole, if Scream’s story about gods is to be believed, EVERYONE is better off and maybe even alive because of you. We faced horrors I doubt more than few can imagine, and you’re still here, still doubting yourself. Though I would have prefered if you had punched Chrysalis in the face with her own ripped off ovipositor, yes.”

She’s right. I may be nervous like I always am, but there is a history of fighting behind me, behind all of us. We will deal with this. It might not end up perfect, but we will deal with this, and it won’t fail horribly. Still, I don’t intend to punch mom- Chrysalis in the face.

“Oh!” I stomp my hoof, “And I want Cryo to come too.”

“Are you crazy?!”
“Hahahahahahahahaha!”
“Ohhh yesss!”
“Interesting, but why?”
“BEARD?!”

You can take a wild guess who said what.

“My reasoning behind it is that Brauheim clearly isn’t working to jog her memory anymore. You tried showing her sights and smells which she could recall, but it failed, but there’s something I remember from the old rulers, something even Cryo knows that happened, and, quite honestly, Canterlot is an amazing sight from the outside, although the last time Cryo was there was to invade it and failed horribly.”

“So, let me get this straight,” the corner of Comfort’s mouth curls up, “You want to jog old Incredibly Senile Hulky’s memory by triggering a PTSD on a level which almost no other living being can even imagine?”

“When you say it like that, it does sound like a bad idea-”

“No, nonono! Just pleeeeeease, if I get called away and am not there to see it on my own, have someone with a camera on standby.”

Okay, Comfort loves it, which is all I need to know this is a HORRIBLE idea!

“Gee, I’ll just knock her out cold if she goes nuts,” One rolls her eyes, “Cryo is coming. Chrysalis missed her when she was here, and I want to see her froth that one of her traitorous generals is still alive.”

“She’s not the only one,” Comfort smirks again, and I just know I’m going to have to zip her mouth shut at some point today, “I heard rumors, and by that I mean that I scoured the minds of Chryssie’s changelings, that someone by the name Shadowstep came back too-”

*CRUNCH!*

Cryo’s eye is twitching, and her foreleg is buried in a fresh crack on the wall.

“...you don’t know when to stop, do you...?” I hiss, advancing at Comfort who looks from side to side for support.

“Uhh, hey, boss, you okay?” she back off, “You’re leaving burning hoofprints again.”

“What’s your endgame with this, Comfort, huh?” I shove her with my hoof, “Why are you just winding Cryo up? To see her blow up? Do you WANT to sabotage this trip for fun?”

“Come on, you’re over-”

“DO YOU?!” I scream at her, and she gasps as her backside hits the wall, “Where do you think this leads? You get a second of fun while we all show ourselves in bad light and Cryo-”

“I will control myself if Chrysalis or Shadowstep happen to be around,” Cryo’s strained but measured voice interrupts me, “You aren’t my idea of a ruler, but times have changed, and I admit it’s for the better. Whatever you were trying to achieve by mentioning that filthy amethyst fanatic failed, if your -what does Two call it?- trolling ever even had any reasoning behind it, succubus.”

Internally, I count to ten, breathe in, and breathe out before turning away from Comfort.

“Cryo is right, you know?” I say, “Scream did the same thing for fun, we were all just a way for her to pass time, but even she had a goal which was for the good of everyone. What you were doing was just trying to hurt someone for your amusement. I don’t care if you’re an immortal demon now or whatever. If you only want to pass time by toying with others without any regard for them… I know you’re better than that. Zero doubt in my mind about that.”

“I...” Comfort faces everyone’s angry glares and my less piercing but no less angry buttcrack, “I’m kinda regretting I can’t just unsummon myself right now. I can set myself on fire, if it helps. It doesn’t hurt me, but it’s a neat light show if we switch off the lamps.”

“Come on, Comfort, what’s the real problem?”

“Eternity is terrifying, boss...” her link closes, and I realize that she knows that I know that I have nothing relevant to say to something like that. For hole’s sake, I’m less than eight years old while she’s over four hundred.

I come to an executive decision.

“Okay, we’ve got better things to do than group lynching,” I say, “And I still don’t know the most important thing. When is the summit, Gem?”

“It starts in four days,” she rolls the scroll back up, “I was expecting to arrive tomorrow. If we don’t rush, we should be in the Crystal Empire tomorrow evening, take the overnight express to Canterlot, report to the castle to sign all the necessary paperwork, and still have a day to see the city before the summit starts.”

“By the way, are you going to Canterlot too, Steelback?” I ask the minotaur who shakes his head.

“Darkhorn has more knowledgeable minotaurs for this position. I’m a specialist on dwarven affairs, as much as a non-dwarf can be,” he chuckles, exchanging glances with Granite.

“Then it’s settled. Say goodbyes to everyone you want to, and we’ll meet at the fountain in the castle plaza in two hours.”

Everyone leaves, even Steelback and Granite, and I’m left alone in the council room, trying to stop my brain from imagining the worst possible scenarios starting with the one that this is all a trap and there will be paladins waiting for us at the train platform.

To my surprise, before long the door to the silent council room opens once again. A mossy green face rimmed with long, brown-mane belonging to Black Soil appears, followed by the rest of the chubby mare responsible for communication between the council and social services. Other than Granite and Iron Rose, she’s spent the most time with me, always stopping for a quick chat. During her last visit, Comfort said Black Soil wanted the changeling D really bad. I didn’t act on it, but I did allow Black Soil to get a little more physical and huggy from time to time. One seemed to be alright with that as much as I am okay with her stuffing Battlecry. And yes, I’m using that expression literally.

“Your Majesty? I heard you were leaving,” she approaches me, and climbs on the council table to be able to be face to face, “And a little bug told me you were extremely nervous about it.”

“Before this, all I did was fight or tell someone else what to do and believed they would do it well, because I believed they could do what I needed them to. Now… what I do could threaten everyone, and not even just my changelings, but also Chrysalis’ hive. I’m under no illusion that ponies and others will see the difference between our hives. Or even you! Someone looking for us might send spies into Brauheim like Chrysalis did, and your city could be revealed. Don’t worry, we caught that changeling and sent him home after a delicate mind rinse.”

She sits down in front of me and spreads her legs, showing her swollen, cushiony teats.

“Look, I-”

“Shhh,” she grabs my head, and slowly pulls it to her belly where she lets me rest like on a pillow, stroking my mane, “You know that the queen is doubtlessly getting one last quickie with Battlecry, right?”

“Mhm,” I mumble into her soft, hot flesh, “I’m not one for that, even though I can sense the lust practically steaming from you.”

“Then just rest and relax,” she presses me tighter against herself, “Though my reputation as a top-tier MILF just got a proper smackdown. I’ll get you one day while I’m still hot, though.”

“You know what? When I come back, I’ll talk it over with One,” I mumble.

“Do you think I’d be doing this if I hadn’t talked to her already? I don’t intend to become a new decoration inside your hive,” she chuckles, “Yet.”

We sit there in the rather charged silence, but she doesn’t try anything. In fact, I am the one who wraps his forelegs around her backside to stop sliding down her lower belly.

“I noticed most of your changeling mares are either slender or muscular, yet I can’t shake off the feeling that you like my type a little more. Not fat, but squishy in the right places,” she wraps her hind legs under my forelegs.

“It’s just how we are. Warriors are strong, untransformed infiltrators don’t need much mass, and drones are more bulky for the digging. When we transform, we do change into something others would like most of the time.”

“Do you ask the queen to grow some more cushion sometimes?”

“I don’t,” my eyes are completely closed now, “She tries new shapes often, but it doesn’t matter to me. She’s herself, she’s strong, dominant, and rough, and no amount of plush, different equipment, or more alien transformation will change how much I love her. I admit that strong yet round is a shape I like to look at the most.”

“Imagining someone like that right now?”

“Mhm.”

“Who is it? The queen?”

“Mhm, with some changes. A little softer belly and bigger breasts.”

“Like mine?”

“Mhm.”

“Feeling better now, your Majesty?”

I breathe out slowly.

“Yes, I am. Thank you.”

“Any time. I wasn’t sure if it would work on you, but I guess even you buggies like breasts despite laying eggs. Or maybe it’s just my warmth and soft voice.”

“We used to be ponies a long, long time ago.”

“He he, there you have it. We can stay like this as long as you want, although you know I could go for a lot more.”

“I’ve got time before we have to go.”

“Then rest, relax, think of me, my warmth, my softness, the lust you can feel, everything that makes you comfortable. Don’t worry about the future now, there will be enough of that later, I bet.”

Aaand I’m out like a light. Someone will wake me up in time, I know.

Not too far away, and not too much later, Two and Topaz enter Crumble’s house, much to the surprise and pleasure of the mare.

“Hi, mom!” Two hugs Crumble.

“Come in, come in!” she ushers them inside, “I wasn’t expecting you tonight, but I wasn’t planning on going out anyway. I’ll fix something up for dinner.”

“Hello, umm, well, mom...” Topaz scratches his head, looking everywhere but at the dwarf mare.

“Now now, we went over this last time. You’ve been dating my daughter long enough to call me mom,” Crumble pats Topaz’s back.

“Well yeah, but… you’re ten years older than I am, that’s the weird part. Fifteen tops. I should call you sister more like,” Topaz looks away when Crumble gives him an over the shoulder glare.

“No, you really shouldn’t do that if you want to keep dating Two, because otherwise I would have to get technical as well and call you a pedophile, because she’s two years old, you know?”

“But that’s exactly what I’m getting at,” Topaz keeps driving his train of thought straight into a tunnel which is only a painted picture on the side of a thick wall, “She’s a changeling. Two years is absolutely fine for them, but we’re dwarves. We live for two centuries, so ten-year difference means squat.”

“Now listen to me, ‘sonny’,” Crumble disappears into the kitchen, but her voice is loud and clear, “I’m Two’s mom, and I know that changelings don’t have a concept of marriage and stuff, but I know the king and the queen personally, and they sure do get the partnership that can last a lifetime, so as long as you and Two are together, I’m ‘mom’ for you, got it?”

“Yes, mom...” Topaz capitulates, much to Two’s muffled chuckling.

“And don’t think I don’t hear that, young lady!” Crumble adds, which fails completely as Two starts openly laughing.

She pushes a hoof against Topaz’s chest, and says just loud enough so that Crumble would hear her:

“Wanna go to the bedroom and make me call you ‘daddy’ one last time before I have to leave?”

In the kitchen, Crumble starts choking and they hear a pan drop on the floor, followed by loud cursing.

Two winks at Topaz, whispering:

“I’ve got your back, Toppy,” in a normal volume, she adds, ”Let’s sit down and have a nice, family dinner.”

“Hey, I’m fine with everything as long as you don’t make me a real daddy anytime soon. I’m not ready,” Topaz pulls out a chair for Two at the living room table.

“Did I hear grandfoals?!” Crumble’s head peeks out of the kitchen, eyes practically sparkling. Topaz blushes instantly.

“Nope,” Two shakes her head, “Dad said he had enough trouble managing the twenty new changelings already.”

“Weeelllll,” Crumble mused thoughtfully, “A little bug told me you can choose whether the foal will be a pony or a changeling, so… wink wink, you know?”

“Those are some biological oddities I haven’t really explored yet, so I can’t do that,” Two shoots the idea down, “Besides, I’ve got my hooves full with trying to help Cryo remember, pushing my limits with Five, and escorting Three and Six as we explore more and more of the underground. The tunnel network here is insane.”

“Supposedly, the ancestors did have bases all over, or under, the world,” Topaz shrugs, “So the tunnels could spread everywhere, really. Too bad you haven’t found any other base yet. It would be nice to know more of our history.”

Two stays quiet on this one. The dwarven council decided that spreading the truth that dwarves are ancestors of Silversmith prisoners who were sentenced to life for not uploading their minds into combat machines for the great war against the Twisted wouldn’t be the best idea, so right now only the changelings and few select dwarves know.

“What’s important is right now,” she decides to say in the end, “and-”

“And right now it’s dinner time!” Crumble walks up with two plates and a bottle on a tray fastened to her neck with a strap, and puts the meals on the table for herself and Topaz, and the bottle for Two who opens it and takes a sip.

“Dinner and ammo at the same time,” Two smacks her lips, “I love this city. Flame spider venom whiskey… twenty years old, give or take?”

“Nah, just twelve,” Crumble shakes her head, “but I got it from a friend who knows her moonshine, none of that mass produced stuff, that’s why it tastes so good.”

Two pours a glass of the alcohol for Topaz and Crumble, and soon, the family conversation gets flowing.

The sauna of Brauheim central spa is empty, which puts a relieved smile on the face of the entering mare who tosses a towel on a rack by the door, and lies down on the hot wood. Not that she was ashamed of her body or anything. In fact, she looked absolutely stunning, being likely the perfect blend of muscles and padding a non-changeling could achieve. Coupled with her small stature, it was no wonder that the queen called Battlecry her pocket flesh-

Battlecry shakes her head. She’s been out of her armor for not even ten minutes and her head’s already in the gutter. Granted, she was busy these days, having to personally oversee and prepare training regimen all five new changeling warriors with various weapons, distinct physical exercises specific to changelings, and study their biology with the queen. Granted, the last part was very hooves-on experience, and exceedingly pleasant.

Speak of the devil, One enters the sauna, walking straight towards Battlecry and plopping her perfect plot by the dwarf’s head.

“Your Majesty, what can I do for you?” asks Battlecry lazily. There can be only one reason why One is here, and Battlecry is happy to oblige her with some ‘feeding’ despite her exhaustion.

Eleven tiny changelings dash into the sauna right behind One, and look at each other while they acclimate to the heat. The last three jump on each other’s backs to make a pyramid in order to comfortably reach the handle and close the door behind them.

Okay, maybe there can be more reasons. One wouldn’t want to have hot, sweaty, feeding session around Eleven. Battlecry was adamant about their affair being only between them… or the king, of course, but he has never joined.

Oh well, maybe one day. Not that One wasn’t more than a satisfying partner.

“Nothing, really,” One leans over Battlecry lying on her back, and licks her nose, “We’ll be leaving for some royal summit in Equestria in few hours, and Eleven is coming too. I thought it would be a good idea to say bye to his mom, hmm?”

Battlecry chuckles as two Elevens jump on the bench and lie down on her foreleg each. Others follow until she finds herself under a hugging and nuzzling pile of chitin.

“He’s been learning his moves from Three, hasn’t he?” she chuckles, “I swear, that guy can hug a broken leg away.”

“I know you’re joking about that,” One snorts, “but I’ve seen some shit you wouldn’t believe.”

They sit there in silence for a while.

“So… how long will you be gone for?”

“Two weeks plus the trip.”

“Oh damn,” Battlecry sighs, “Not gonna lie, I’m gonna feel pretty lonely at home.”

“You’ll still be busy. Five, Six, and Seven are staying to keep an eye on the hundreds. And if you want some fun, Five’s open to anything, really. ”

“It just wouldn’t be the same,” Battlecry frees her foreleg from under Elevens, and reaches behind her to wrap it around One’s plot, “Oh well, absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say.”

“Not sure if the heart is the part of you that would miss me the most,” One teasingly licks the underside of Battlecry’s free hoof.

“True,” the mare admits, “but I really do like you for more than… well… what you do to me. Not gonna point out the specific details in front of Eleven,” she sighs, “I’m so happy the king doesn’t mind us being like this.”

“Right now, he’s sleeping while drooling on Black Soil’s tits, so he’s not in a position to complain even if he was the type to do so,” One smirks, “I really need to tell him he should just stuff her properly when we get back. She’s got a rocking body. Not like you, but tempting in a completely different way. He could squeeze a lot of love and lust out of her.”

“Black Soil… ohhh, the hippy mare from the council? Lucky guy. I said it before and I’ll say it again, the way you changelings view relationships is weird, and I’m happy about that.”

“Hey, for most of our history, monogamy would be a suicide,” One shrugs, “We take resources where we can get them. Things are different right now, but who knows how long this will last? Boss has the right idea in not making too many more changelings, although we needed some.”

“You know that if you dig deep inside me, you’ll always find something,” Battlecry’s hoof wrapped around One squeezes the soft booty chitin.

“Hmm, weren’t you the one who didn’t want to talk about that too explicitly in front of Eleven?”

“Well, maybe we can send foals outside to play and-” Battlecry sighs when she opens her eyes and sees that most of the Elevens on her are asleep, their soft breath tickling various occupied parts of her, “Oh nevermind.”

“Let’s just stay like this for a while,” One inches closer to the dwarf.

“I love you, my queen.”

“Trust me, I know,” One smiles, and takes one Eleven into her lap who blinks, yawns, and falls asleep again, “And Eleven knows too.”

With everyone’s last-minute business sorted, energy reserves replenished, and final orders received, we group up by the fountain in the center of the castle plaza. Dwarves are rushing around as the night life of Brauheim is starting.

Hold up, what’s that?

Three looks as if someone dropped him head-first into a cotton candy machine, and is riding a spider that’s on fire. Did someone mix something illegal into the love I absorbed from Black Soil?

“I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!” Cryo reverts into the panic mode.

“Agreed. Number one, why are you riding an adult flame spider and not being eaten?” Two asks as soon as Three stops in front of us, “No, scratch that. Why isn’t it trying to eat anyone here?”

“That’s Clicky,” Three pats the spider’s head, and it clicks its mandibles in response, “I met him near a steam geyser when Six and I helped the dwarves uncover the cave-in that damaged the power plant. I’ve been feeding him the blank eggs miss One’s been stuffing miss Battlecry with. Those, and the protein mushrooms the dwarves grow. He likes them a lot, and he doesn’t even try to bite us or dwarves anymore. Eleven feeds him from time to time and he’s not missing any bodies, see?”

“You can’t take him with you,” One immediately moves onto the next subject.

“Don’t worry, miss One. I just want to take him out for a walk, and he’ll go back into the caves on his own.”

Hello, headache, my old friend.

“Number two, why is there a pink zebro on your head?” Gem asks after she recovers from her original jaw drop.

“Dwarves are all dim and dark, so I wanted something that would clearly signal that I’m not a dwarf, and I don’t even know anything like that,” he answers with clear conviction of a job well done, “Just like mister Granite wanted.”

You know, on some level it makes perfect sense. If you don’t think about it too much…

...so I don’t.

“Everyone will be staring at us...” mumbles Gem, leaning to my ear as we start heading towards the tunnel to the Crystal Empire castle.

“Let them,” I mutter back, “I’ll take a laughing diplomat over sad Three any day.”

“If you put it like that...” Gem sighs, “But please, keep him away from the delegation from Zebrica. I’ve already lived through one zebra invasion already, and I’d like to keep what getting striped means now.”

“Which is?” I ask.

“Much more fun,” Gem coughs and looks away.

I shrug. We might insult someone on accident, but if we act with good intentions and no ill will, this will end up being alright. No paladins, no torches and pitchforks, no furious alicorns.

And that’s that I need to keep repeating to myself over and over otherwise I’ll suffer another panic attack even before we reach the Crystal Empire.

Thankfully, the sky doesn’t drop on us during the day long trip through the tunnel. Or the ceiling. Does that expression apply if we’re underground? Anyway, we mostly walk in silence, with the only one mumbling being Gem. Something about ogres, oubliettes, levels, and monster placement. When I examined the new bulk of information growing inside the hive mind, I understood precisely nothing. A fake map? Why?

I find this absolutely fascinating, and as we finally enter the direct tunnel to the Crystal Empire, and wince as Three releases his flame spider which I refuse to call by a name because those are horrible pony-and-changeling-eating monsters, I watch Gem’s work grow. Thankfully, the amount of information she’s saving in the hive mind is so miniscule that her doing that doesn’t have any visible drain on our love resources. Sometimes she moves a dot representing a monster, sometimes she switches it with a different one, but mostly she’s just adding new rooms, starting the map as two-dimensional but quickly expanding into cellars, small towers, and even sketches of what has to be the inside and outside of certain important features.

By the end of the day’s trip, I notice we’ve lost Three. We must already be under the Crystal Empire, and as far as I know, there aren’t any pathways branching off of this tunnel, so he can’t have wandered off.

“Hey, where are you, Three?” I quickly check his position on the real mental map of the underground. He’s not far back, and a quick look out of his eyes reveals that he’s staring at a wall, nose scrunched.

“This wall is weird, boss,” he replies.

“How come?”

“It’s drafty, but there are no holes anywhere, and… I don’t know how to explain it. Can you feel what I can feel, boss?”

“See, feel, everything other than read your mind. Unless you want me to do that.”

“Nah, this is okay. You’ll understand this, boss, the others wouldn’t,” he taps on the suspicious wall. Again, again, and again in various places, “It’s a wall, but it doesn’t feel like a wall.”

I see. I’m the only one able to fully understand what Three’s drone senses are screaming at him.

Not completely. It looks like a solid rock wall, it feels to the touch like a solid rock wall, but the tremors and the sound of Three’s knocking… is as if those were okay going one way, but simply disappeared going the other way. Id there was anything like a one-way wall, it would probably feel like this.

On the other hole, we don’t have time to stop and dig, and much less a permission.

“Well noticed, Three. I suppose that since we’re under the Crystal Empire, there might some sort of a cellar behind that wall, with maybe some magical ventilation or something. Seven would be able to figure this out, but he’s too far for me to contact. Anyway, we’ve got a train to catch, so let’s not waste time here. If it’s still weird when we get back, we can have a better look at it.”

“Okay, boss. I’ll be with you in a second,” he glares at the wall, daring it to reveal its secrets, but nothing happens. Maybe he could try doing the lip wibble and asking nicely. I mean, it worked for him almost against everything until now.

No, let’s not tell him that. If he somehow is able to warp reality purely by being nice, I’d prefer using it when it counts. Maybe for wishing away the guards and paladins who will surround us instantly when we arrive in Canterlot. Or maybe even before. Maybe this tunnel is guarded already. And maybe…

Breathe in, breathe out.

Three, galloping with his hoofsteps echoing through the tunnel, catches up with us, and hops on my back. The warm ball of love emanating from him at all times washes away my fresh panic attack.

Accompanied by the slow chatter of Comfort recalling her accidental summoning by some weird guy during a show in Las Pegasus, we finally reach the long, winding staircase leading to the crystal castle, and when the secret door opens-

I freeze.

No, it’s not paladins.

It’s Seven and everyone fanned out in a wide circle around the door, drones, warriors, and infiltrators waving at us as we push out of the narrow doorway. Two warriors are holding a banner reading:

Six notices me tilt my head as I read the crudely drawn letters covered partly by grimy hoofprints, some green goo, and with uneven spaces between them.

“We let them try to work the spelling out on their own. They did their best. They decided that three exclamation marks were important to show how much they mean it,” he says, smirking.

“Hnnnglbgh...” Seven collapses on the floor, out like a light. Five immediately loads him on his back.

“It was his idea. He wanted to surprise you by teleporting everyone ahead to give you a proper send off. He didn’t listen to me when I told him he could have a send off in the castle and then teleport you to the end of the tunnel,” Five explains, “Guess he just wanted to show off his magic.”

“Come here,” I pull immediately embarrassed Five into a hug, and everyone starts hugging everyone, much to the surprise of two harassed-looking armed crystal pony guards in the back.

Those two earn Comfort’s attention who saunters over to them, and proceeds with semi-consentual hugging. Their objections that they are on duty and that we’re technically invading the seat of rulership of another country doesn’t help them in the slightest, and in the end they find themselves with their helmet askew, trying to rub off gold kiss marks all over their faces. Good luck with that.

When even Cryo releases the four changelings she’s currently holding in her embrace, and everyone seems to finally be comfortable with a job well done, I clear my throat.

“Thank you for the send off, guys. We’ll do our best to make sure you can go outside safely not only in Brauheim. The peace treaty Chrysalis signed is one thing, but we’ll show them we weren’t their enemies in the first place. You make sure there still is a home ready and waiting for us when we return.”

They all salute, and I can feel the pride from all their links, more links than I’ve ever thought I would feel around me since I left the Badlands. When the salute is over, Five with unconscious Seven opens the secret doorway to leave, and-

The two crystal guards slide onto the floor, their breathing slowing down. My own eyelids droop, and I yawn. We must have been more exhausted from the trip and the surprise than I thought.

“Have y-aaah...” I yawn again, and switch to speaking through the hive mind.

“You didn’t need to knock the guards out yet, Comfort.”

“I didn’t do anything. Why do all of you suddenly look as if you didn’t sleep for a week?” she asks, “Why are the hundreds dropping like bowling pins?”

Wait what? All of us?

In the real world, Three is already snoring on my back. All the new hive members numbered hundred and above are already out like a light. Two is rubbing her eyes. Gem scowls, grabs one potion I obviously can’t identify and downs it. It doesn’t look as if it did anything, and she says:

“This is magic. My energy drink didn’t do anything, and that thing can make a passed out dragon start dancing. Gimme a second,” she downs a different potion, and perks up instantly, “Yep, the potion of magic resistance worked.”

“Got more of those?” in the blackness of the hive mind, we’re all okay, but our bodies out there are inching towards deep sleep with every passed second, “Oh gods, ow, why, who what?” I feel sudden shaking and stinging, and open my real eyes wide as I notice Comfort slapping me and shaking me by the neck, “I get it, I get it, that’s working, that’s working,” aaaand I yawn again instantly when she tops.

Her eyes shoot open, and One stands at attention instantly, the effect of the spell completely insufficient against my mental order.

“I WAS A QUEEN AND I KICKED A TON OF ASS, KICKED A TON OF ASS, KICKED A TON OF ASS!” Cryo starts screaming from full lungs what I recognize to be a variation of Three’s digging song. And when she starts screaming, everyone clutches their ears, “I WAS A QUEEN AND I KICKED A TON OF ASS, KICKY KICKY ASS, KICKING ASS! BEARD!”

Now that works like a charm, and everyone’s groaning in pain, but fully aware. For about five seconds...

“Yep, that’s a suspended animation enchantment,” I hear Seven’s voice in my head, “And for hole’s sake, stop the damn screaming! I was happily passed out until this happened.”

Short moment later, Seven slides off of dizzy Five’s back, and whistles.

“Huh, localized inside the castle, apparently. Give me a second,” a quick peek into his mind reveals knowledge pouring into his head from nowhere, a mark left on him by the encounter with the Vigil’s master, “Aaaand done!”

With a flash of his horn, the heavy pressure forcing me down on the floor and to curl up and sleep fades completely.

“Did you dispel it?” asks One immediately.

“No,” Seven shakes his head, “I don’t know the origin, but I’m working on it. It’s a blanket spell, so it’s not overly powerful and I made proper protection for us based on our hive mind connection. As long as someone stays awake, we’ll all stay awake, and because Comfort and One seem to be immune already, we’ll be okay.”

“Well done,” I nod my head, “That’s genuinely impressive.”

“Sometimes I surprise myself,” Seven smirks, “Now let me focus and figure out where the spell is coming from.”

Eleven appears in front of me, all bodies jumping up and down as they change back from crystalline structure practically invisible here in the castle back into their black chitinous glory.

“All-”

“-crystal-”

”-ponies-”

“-are-”

“-sleeping-”

“-Boss!”

I’m getting so paranoid that I don’t bother pointing out that he’s not concentrating on talking again. This isn’t a random magic accident, it can’t be.

“Got it! Now let’s be quiet, everyone, and haul ass!” orders Seven. Everyone looks at me, and he sighs, “Leading the dummies when you’re gone will be a pain in the ass, I can already see it.”

“Listen to Seven and move. Hive mind communication only,” I order.

We rush through the silent castle, staircase after staircase, following Seven whose horn is glowing green all the time. Thankfully, most of us are experienced with combat, silent movement, relocating like a unit, and the hundreds are linked up to us and absorbing all the knowledge they can.

From the many windows along each hallway I notice that we must be almost on top of the castle when Seven stops and points at a door with two sleeping crystal guards by its sides, another pair of many we’ve seen throughout the castle.

“Inside,” says Seven.

“One, do the honors,” I point at the door.

In complete silence, green fire rushes through One’s body, and I can feel the strength inside her building up. She walks up to the double door, and-

“Diplomacy, my love. Diplomacy.”

-simply opens it.

However, the instant she spots an equine figure standing over an emperor-size bed, completely covered from head to hoof by dark green robe, her enhanced hind legs propel her forward in a jump which makes her into a hard, chitinous projectile that hits the figure straight in the back so hard it-

-shatters?

The sleep spell ends. Dry, grey bones scatter all over the room from One’s impact, and she herself, entangled in the robe, hits the far wall with a deafening thud. Something resembling a dark shadow jumps out of the robe, and disappears through the closed window.

The two figures whom I know as princess Cadance and her husband Shining Armor wake up covered in bleached bones to the commotion of around forty changelings surrounding their bed.

Things get screamy.

“GUARDS!” Shining Armor call out on instinct while jumping off of the bed with the blanket still wrapped around him, and landing on a group of now terrified drones and Eleven, “GUAAAAAR-mmmmphf!” his quick roll turns him into an emperor-changeling burrito.

Cadance, now blanket-less, crosses her legs with an ‘eep!’.

“CHRYSALIS, IT’S CHRYSALIS AGAIN! SHE’LL EGG ME AGAIN! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Shining Armor has managed to somehow free his mouth, I see.

The crystal guards previously sleeping outside barge into the already crowded bedroom, and realize they can’t move their long spears whatsoever. No one is stopping them, there just isn’t any space. In the back, Comfort, grinning like a pedophile on a playground, slams the door shut.

“THEY’RE EVERYWHERE! THEY’RE SWARMING EVERYWHERE! THEY’RE IN MY BEARD! STOP EATING MY HIVE, YOU GOO MONSTERS!” the clutter apparently triggers Cryo’s PTSD. If she starts flailing around, this won’t end well.

Strangely enough, the only empty part of the room is the royal bed, on which sits only completely paralyzed Cadance.

Two pushes through and hugs Cryo’s foreleg. I feel her push through her hive link with Cryo and forcibly stop the ancient queen.

Everyone uncovers their ears, leaving us only with the noises of Shining Armor and few changelings thrashing around in one blanket wrap.

“MY ASS CAN’T TAKE IT AGAIN! I DON’T CARE HOW GOOD IT FELT, I DON’T WANT TO BE AN EGG SACK ANYMORE! GUARDS, HELP, I’M BEING VIOLATED!”

“Don’t you dare move,” Comfort pokes the two guards who couldn’t help even if they tried, “This is gold. Anyone got a camera here?”

Three jump up to Cadance who twitches, and hugs her side. Everything eventually stops, and the bedroom goes completely silent.

What do I say not to start a total war immediately?

To my surprise, it’s Cadance who takes charge by grabbing smiling Three whose head tilts backwards a little due to the weight of his new manestyle.

“Hey, you’re the little guy who stole the Crystal Heart, aren’t you?” she asks carefully.

“Mhm,” he nods, “Hello, miss not-bad-mom. Do you like my new mane? Miss Gem think it’s over the top and that the zebras on the summit will be mad, but I learned to make it taste like cotton candy. Want some? I can grow more no problem,” he rubs his head, and boops stunned Cadance with a pink-covered hoof, leaving the sweet blob on her nose.

She licks it on reflex, and raises an eyebrow.

“Not bad,” she puts him down on the bed, clears her throat, and looks around, “So, who’s going to explain what’s going on here?’”

Everyone looks at me.

“Umm, can someone help release prince Shining Armor first?” I ask, which the nearest few one of whom thankfully is Five interpret as an order, and she slowly unrolls the blanket. Two Elevens, one drone, and Shining Armor shuffle back on all fours, and said drone crawls immediately under the bed from where six more heads are watching the situation. Shining Armor joins his wife on the bed.

Oh wow, they’re not scared of the unicorn, they’re all scared that I’ll be mad at them for not getting out of the way and freaking Shining Armor out. Well, Eleven just likes crawl spaces, that too.

“Good, now get out from under the bed,” I say slowly, “Well, what happened was… well… we entered the castle through a secret underground passage, and everyone started falling asleep suddenly. Seven there,” I nod at him, “Discovered that a sleeping spell was cast on the castle, and we tracked the source to here. When we got inside, there was a...”

“A skeleton in a robe,” One throws the robe on the bed, and nods to the various bones visible around, “I jumped at it and it shattered, which made the spell end. You as well as the guards woke up a moment later. If you want to know why there’s almost forty of us here, few of whom are still hiding under your bed, Eleven, then you’ve got your priorities wrong with all due respect.”

“Alright, first things first,” Shining Armor speaks out firmly, “This is our bedroom. Everyone out!”

“You heard the prince,” I say as most of my changelings don’t really care for orders from anyone but myself, “And everyone who’s not coming to the summit goes home now. Thank you for the send off. We’ll make sure to bring back something nice for you from pony land.”

Shortly after we clear out the place, Shining Armor joins the guards outside, and leads them away.

“We’ll inspect the guards inside the castle,” he says, “Cadance will be with you in a minute.”

The leave, and the pink alicorn princess joins us.

“We really didn’t want to be a bother, princess,” I say, giving her a courteous bow, “We just wanted to sneak through the castle on our way to catch the express train to Canterlot for the royal summit.”

“Ohhh right!” Cadance smacks her forehead, leading the way, “I completely forgot we invited you as well. You’re early, though.”

“I wanted us to have a chance to see Canterlot before the summit,” explains Gem, “Last time the boss was there… things weren’t going well.”

“Don’t worry too much, Gem,” Cadance pats her back, “Ponies are used to changelings these days, though when a second changeling faction appears, it’s bound to make some nobles worried. However, if you’re careful around griffons, you’ll be okay, your Majesty,” she gives me a friendly smile. Considering we’ve met only twice before, once in the Castle of Two Sisters when she was unconscious, and then after we returned the Crystal Heart, she’s a very friendly pony, and I can’t sense any ill intent from her. Just princess of Love things, I guess. Or princess of food, as Three calls her sometimes.

“I’m more worried about what happened here tonight,” I admit with a sigh, “Although I was expecting a lot more trouble for sneaking into your castle and all that. Can we really go just like that?”

Cadance chuckles.

“Queen Chrysalis visits me often, and she assured me the last thing your hive wanted was to cause trouble. Besides, Gem here always visits the castle when she’s on the way to Rift, and there have never been trouble with you, which is a lot more than I can say for… anypony else, really. Though I still don’t know where exactly that secret tunnel of yours is, but this castle is full of secrets left behind by king Sombra we’re still uncovering randomly even now. Believe or not, a direct tunnel to your hive is the least dangerous thing in here. And maybe things will go so well at the summit that you won’t need to hide anymore, and some of us might come and visit. I know my aunts don’t harbor any ill will towards you for the events in the Castle of Two Sisters.”

“I told her the reason why we didn’t want the tunnel to be explored, even if they discovered it, was that we have really heavy security in our hive due to our bad experiences with paladins, and that visitors might be seriously hurt. Can’t have some random expedition reveal the truth about dwarves,” Gem quickly explains.

“Good thinking.”

“Hopefully so,” I say out loud, ”To be honest, it would be fun to start a new escape hive game like we had in Las Pegasus, but here in the Crystal Empire.”

“Oh? I didn’t hear about that?” Cadance gives me curious glance. However, we’ve finally reached the main gate of the castle now guarded from both sides, which the crystal ponies open when the princess nods, “We’ll have time to talk about it during the summit. Who knows? Maybe somepony else might be interested in that kind of business in their city as well. It’s an idea that might help others get to know you.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say as we leave the castle while Cadance stays in, “But I’ll be happy enough with not having soldiers sent after us. Larva flops, larva flops.”

“Foal steps,” Gem translates immediately.

“I see,” Cadance nods, “See you in Canterlot then,” she waves, and the guards close the castle gate again.

After a brief stop by the Crystal Heart to refresh, we head straight to the train station, drawing the Crystal Empire map from Gem’s head.

I’ve never seen it before. It’s very simple, actually - a large roof held by pillars, with three sets of train tracks underneath and a platform by each. Like everything in the city, all buildings and platforms are made from crystals of various opacity, and there are various stands scattered around, all closed at this time of night. Fortunately, the overnight express Gem planned to take is standing by the nearest platform, apparently about half full, judging by the lit up coupes.

“I’ll go sort out the tickets,” Gem rushes off.

Oh… money…

Surface money…

Money none of us have.

I’m not a smart king, am I?

“It’ll be okay, love,” One feels my sudden distress, ”We’re a hive. We’re one entity. If one fails, others succeed. Gem has the experience we need.”

The changeling in question returns with a stack of papers which she presents to a sleepy crystal unicorn at one of the steps leading into the train. He seems a little on edge when approached by a large group of changelings at night. Can’t blame him, really.

“Hey, what’s that?” he points at Three’s head as he’s getting on.

“I’m luggage,” he dabs the pony’s mouth with his mane, and hops on board.

“Mmmm...” the unicorn doesn’t bother us anymore, “Tasty.”

Gem leads us to an empty coupe into which we somehow fits, mostly thanks to Eleven immediately using Cryo as a stepladder to crawl into the overhead luggage space while the huge mare nas no qualms with being a leg rest.

All in all… that didn’t go half as bad as I thought.

“Now, we’ve got about twenty minutes before we leave, and then some eleven hours’ trip to Canterlot.” Gem smiles and pulls out a small pouch which she empties on the window table, revealing a set of various dice. Next, our attention gets drawn to the map she’s been preparing inside our hive mind the whole trip. Most of it, however, is obscured by black fog, as we can clearly see,

“Only one question remains…” she breathes out, “Who wants to play some Ogres and Oubliettes, and save the town of Darkmire from a horrible curse?”

Author's Notes:

So, here we go one final time. Hopefully we're at least starting off good.

2: Some call it a horrifying omen of things to come. Some call it Tuesday.

“Why does it always have to be a sewer…?”

This disgusted female voice mirrors the thoughts of everyone currently trudging through the fetlock-deep sludge of Manehattan sewer system for far too many-eth time. Granted, as far as sewers go, Manehattan complex could be counted among the most “hospitable” ones, ranking only behind, of course, Canterlot. This means that while these round, dark green tunnels covered with patches of slimy moss still carry the heavy, acrid stench of decay and waste, at least it’s possible for all strange members of the currently present five-pony… no, five-mostly-not-pony group to walk side by side and without crouching.

Let’s start with the speaker looking straight ahead with narrowed eyes, as if her mind was completely elsewhere. She’s a unicorn mare, charcoal black with shoulder-long, white mane flowing freely down her neck cut in the uneven style of someone who probably did it themselves and without bothering to use a mirror. One of her eyes is blue, and one green. Not that they are overly visible in the light cast by a flashlight hanging on a strap around her neck, or even relevant to many things, but for the sake of completeness it needs mentioning. As far as her physical stature goes, she certainly is athletic, but nothing crazy, really. More wiry than with curvy muscles, in fact. She can’t be too old, mid or late twenties at most, but her face, her weary stare, and few wrinkles under the eyes no one this young should bear prove beyond all doubt that, as the young say these days, she’s seen some real shit.

Her cutie mark isn’t special on the first glance, though, consisting of two crossed guardless swords, one white with ebony handle, and the other one ashen grey with ivory handle. If someone were to get inquisitive and suspicious enough, they might come to the conclusion that the white edge of one of the blades is too bright to be steel, and if such scholar did enough digging, they might figure out the color is the most similar to an extremely rare metal called istrium. Of course, the methods of forging the raw material into such sturdy metal were lost long time ago if they weren’t entirely mythical to begin with.

In contrast to her cutie mark, she’s got only one sword strapped on her back, although it does look exactly like the ashen one with white handle. The only thing other than the sword, the lamp, and a bandanna covering her mouth she’s got on her seems to be a small saddlebag on her side. Her long horn keeps shimmering, not with a light spell or any visible magical effect. On a closer look, though, one could see that she’s not actually walking through the waste water, rather that all water stops around her fetlocks as if she was wearing an invisible set of boots.

“Hard to summon demons in your parents’ apartment, I suppose,” answers a calm and a rather jovial male voice, “I can just picture it. Hey, son, I hope you’re not jacking off in your room! No dad, I’m just- PARGON PARGON VITAE AM YOM TAR! Hey, son, why do I smell sulfur? NO REASON!”

The speaker this time is a pure white, claws and everything, griffon walking by the unicorn’s side, wearing the same dark green bandanna and a strap with a huge, double-headed battle axe on his back. Of course, question number one, if the oversized axe is on his back, would be - how does he take it off? The answer is simple, on the first glance. The griffon is tall, and his physical build is something that even ancient stone statues of heroes could only dream off, which makes it possible that he might be able to wield a two-handed weapon made for a minotaur with one foreleg. However, there might be a better clue to that in his emerald green eyes which, contrary to popular opinion, shouldn’t be glowing with immense power beyond the understanding of mere mortals. Too theatrical? Good. Now, with eyes like those, body that would make an ice sculpture drool, and a permanent cheeky smile on his beak, he looks like a guy who would have a full harem here in Equestria, and all princesses would be in it. Not that that’s the case, he just looks like it.

“You could take this a little more seriously, Cromach. I mean, sir,” the unicorn mare gives him a dirty, sideways glance, although from her only slightly annoyed tone it’s clear she’s used to this kind of thing.

“Come on, Connie,” Cromach smirks at her, “We’ve been in worse sewers, and on worse cases. Eldritch screaming and summoned demons in a cellar, boo hoo. That’s what... third time in two months? This isn’t even in a top hundred scary things we’ve seen, and I’m not sure we did break a hundred creepy cases yet. The only question we don’t know the answer to yet is whether the pony responsible for it did it willingly. To be honest, at this point we might return simple cases like this one back to the police,” he snaps his talons as if recalling something crucial, “Wait, no, two questions. Trothai, neighponnese, or marexican food for late lunch after we get back?”

“Oooh oooh oooh! Can we get griffon?” squelching of dirty water from far ahead is interrupted by eager female voice, a certainly much higher-pitched than Connie’s, and the sound akin to a rain of cannonballs hitting a water surface. From the darkness ahead, a pony shape rushes at crazy speed towards the group, and the light of flashlights reveal what looks like a toned earthpony mare… with few features that always make the skin of ponies who see her for the first time crawl. Her abrupt stop sprays Cromach and Connie with hopefully only water, “Can we, can we, can we?”

Okay, the enthusiastic bouncing up and down, splashing everything, in front of the white griffon doesn’t help their overall dirty situation.

“Considering we very wisely decided to attack a pocket dimension at noon, which is something no one in their right mind would expect, all the shops will be open, Bubbles,” Cromach nods, and Bubbles jumps at him, clamping her legs around his chest like a vice, “Mind the claws,” is all smiling Cromach says as he pats Bubbles’ head. She smiles back, lowers her bandanna, presenting a mouth full of teeth that would make even Comfort wince, licks the griffon’s face, and jumps back into the water with a backflip.

Let’s take it from the top then. On the first glance, Bubbles looks like an earthpony mare scaled down almost to dwarf size, although still fit and strong and without the bulkiness. Both her coat and mane are rusty reddish brown speckled with golden dots clustering mostly around her spine. Her tail isn’t that of a pony, rather a long, narrowing, prehensile whip ending in a short, leonine duster. Other than that, the only unusual features visible outright on her are bigger ears, and claws on her forelegs instead of hooves. However, when Bubbles smiles, or opens her mouth at any point, really, everyone can see her huge, sharp teeth which would make anyone wonder where in her skull they fit, since her head isn’t malformed in any way. Unlike anyone else, she’s not carrying any equipment on her, which would be a waste anyway, with her teeth and claws.

The question of what Bubbles really is would take far too long to explain right now, and distract from the final two abnormal members of the sewer group.

“Can we stop spoiling her, sir?” the biggest figure currently walking through the sewers speaks up, one taller than even the white griffon. A bipedal one, which helps with that whole big and tall aspect, “She barely eats what the recruits cook in the canteen as it is, fat little blob,” she can’t help taking a jab at Bubbles, albeit one completely untrue.

Patience! We’re almost done with the descriptions. A bodybuilder-tier minotaur female whose coat is so dark yellow that it borders on brown towers over everyone else, her horns almost scratching the sewer ceiling. Despite the fact that she’s in Manehattan, what she’s wearing would be more at home on a tropical beach, and it shows off her somewhat incredible endowments for the world to see. On the other gravity-defying breast, she’s clearly used to the attention, and the mess of the sewers doesn’t seem to bother her. Other than her thigh-high leather boots, that is.

Blood, blood, calm down, go back to the brain this instant!

So yes, ehm, the minotaur warrior slash fetish-wear model slash classic fantasy novel book cover dream is carrying a two-handed heavy mace on her back, plus an assortment of smaller weapons on a belt holding up her short skirt not covering her round, muscular booty even halfway.

“What? That’s not true, miss Anvil!” Bubbles turns around, looking up… and up at the minotaur, “I eat everything! I just like meat the most, and I’m not fat. Astryyy! I’m not fat, am I?” she cranes her neck to look at her belly in panic.

Aaaand the final member of the dynamic duo… dynamic quintet is the strangest creature out of all of them, with the furry lower body akin to that of a minotaur, but a face of a creature not native to this world. His name also isn’t Astryyy, but Astray, and he’s a satyr, as he learned during his early years in the Crystal Empire orphanage. However, the only visible part of his body is his head topped with short, grey hair, because he’s the only one here wearing actual armor. His armor is a strange mix of plate and chain mail, or more accurately a plate mail which has been reforged by an expert into something which someone with less carrying strength than a pony could wear. Most of the full-body armor is emblazoned by symbols of the sun, at first making it look like one belonging to a paladin, but the suns are slightly polished out to look more silver than gold. In short, it looks like an armor originally made for a paladin, but adjusted in all possible ways to fit a different person, different species, and different use. Anyway, back to the satyr himself, as little as can be seen from him inside the armor. There’s a short sword hanging in a sheath on his belt, and a griffon pistol on the other side as well as miscellaneous pouches and small bags between the two weapons. Aaand that’s all. I mean, you can’t really see much of Astray other than his head and the armor.

Booo! Stop the description and get to the action! Or at least describe the minotaur titties in more detail.

So, as Anvil jiggles along the sewer tunnel- no, bad brain!

“Of course you’re not fat, Bubbly,” Astray pats the head of the energetic at-least-partially-mare, which makes her beam and stick her tongue out at Anvil, “I don’t think it’s even possible for you. Being a half-demon and all.”

“Seventy-five percent demon!” she corrects him, “Miss Anvil has been teaching me to count properly. One third succubus, one third some murder lord of Tartarus, one third hopefully earthpony… though my mom was a unicorn so that would make me...” Bubbles’s large ears droop, “Miss Anvil, how do I divide by earthpony? Math is hard.”

“Can we focus on the task at hoof?” Connie’s cold voice cuts through the jovial atmosphere, “You never knows what lurks in these sewers,” a sadistic grin spreads on her muzzle, “This is Manehattan. Unlike Canterlot, magic trade and alchemy aren’t so well regulated. All back-alley attempts end up flushed down here. Malformed homunculi, foals who were presumed dead after birth but survived here on rotten flesh and waste, living nightmares you simply can’t wake up from, and much more, much worse. They say that if you walk the wrong tunnels at night, you can hear their weeping and chattering of teeth they sharpened on bones of sewer rats.”

“Eep!” Bubbles shivers and shuffles back to Astray, her side now pressed tightly against his armored leg. After a moment, she darts ahead again, staring at Connie with a victorious smile, “Hey, I know something that’s even scarier than those things! And it’s lurking down here too.”

“Yeees?” Connie raises an eyebrow.

“We are!” Bubbles grins from ear to ear, which is unsettling or downright pants-soiling sight for anyone not used to her. With glow in her pink eyes similar to Cromach’s, she rushes off to scout ahead again.

“Can’t argue with that,” Connie shrugs to the chuckling of everyone around, “Pop quiz - how far are we from the target?” her voice is suddenly razor-sharp.

Astray aims his lamp at the top of the tunnel where there’s a set of numbers which he compares to a small notepad he pulls out of one of his bags.

“Six more blocks straight and then three to the right,” he reports, “We should be directly under the apartment complex, Contradiction.”

“Hey, at least someone is taking this seriously,” the black and white mare smirks.

“Come on,” Anvil rolls her eyes, “Sir Cromach is right. We’ve done this over and over in the last year, and I still haven’t met anything scarier than Cross during combat practice.”

“On the other talon,” Cromach snorts, clearly amused, “You probably never will, or at least you should hope you don’t. I’ve been on the receiving end of some serious divine punishment, and I enjoy every day when we’re dealing with some random demons. Hell, even the last year’s case with poor Black Shield was more an active holiday than a real threat.”

“Didn’t feel like holiday...” mumbles Bubbles, recalling herself getting gutted by an overly inquisitive unicorn interested in her demonic side, “But I got all of you out of it, so it started the best time of my life!” she instantly perks up again.

“You know, I do have to agree with that,” Astray says thoughtfully.

“You just like watching me in the shower,” Anvil smirks at him.

“You’re forgetting the massages afterwards,” the satyr proves his mental resilience by not blushing anymore.

“Yep, that’s how much you still have to learn,” Anvil doesn’t admit defeat, “Or can you forget any time I massaged you after training?”

Astray winces, memory of the powerful minotaur’s hands kneading bordering on crushing.

“You’re hard as a rock, really. Would it be too difficult not to have the last word for once?” asks Astray, mostly trying to pass time rather than argue.

“When you beat me, you can do what you want with me. That’s the minotaur way. We never just give in,” Anvil hums to herself, “Though I’m eagerly awaiting the day, if only out of sheer curiosity.”

“Group cuddle!” Bubbles has returned once again from her ceaseless rushing forth behind the first corner ahead and back, “We can get sir Cromach and miss Connie to join us.”

“Hmmm… one foreleg around Connie, one around Anvil,” Cromach muses, “That’s the life. I almost envy you, Astray.”

“It’s not like that, sir,” Astray whistles innocently, and does his best to avoid Anvil’s fresh glare.

“Yeah,” Bubbles objects too, “Miss Anvil and Astray usually sleep next to each other while I get to lie on them. We tried it once with miss Anvil on top, but we had to stop when Astray turned blue. She’s heavy.”

“Full-blooded minotaur muscle,” Anvil flexes and slaps her biceps, “All of me.”

“We wouldn’t fit in the bunk bed,” Contradiction cuts that discussion short, “And I’ll rip the first slut who touches Cromach in half.”

Bubbles instantly jumps on the griffon, hanging around his neck seemingly without him even noticing her weight.

“You don’t count,” adds Connie.

“I still don’t understand what he sees in your bony ass,” Anvil flicks Connie’s ear with her finger.

“His cock. Often.”

“AHEM!” Cromach clears his throat, “Let’s not get too carried away,” he grabs Bubbles by the nape of her neck, and drops her down, “Shoo!”

“We’re almost there anyway,” Connie’s voice turns serious again, and everyone goes quiet.

“Well, squad leader,” Cromach winks at her, “Lead away.”

“Bubbles, go!” whispers Connie.

The rusty half-demonette slinks ahead, quickly but also quietly this time, like a prowling leopard. The rest of the group simply try to walk as slowly as they can not to cause any more loud splashing. The report they received from the unicorns of Manehattan police department stated that the cellar had been turned into a pocket dimension. According to the findings, the place supposedly isn’t secured against any entry from anywhere else than the main door from the building it belongs to, so the best access path was identified as a section of a wall shared with the sewer system. The police didn’t know what to expect, and decided against risking personnel, especially when there was the strike force of the Order of the Silver Sun readily available in the city.

As they clear the corner, they see Bubbles with her nose pressed against the wall a short way away, poking at various bricks with her claws. She looks at them, and waves at them to come closer.

“This wall tastes of magic,” she whispers and paws at her tongue stuck out, “and other nasty stuff. How do we get in?”

Astray taps one of his pouches. They indeed did attack few sites of summonings gone wrong in the past year, but no pocket dimension yet.

“Get ready. We don’t know what’s going to happen,” he says quietly, grabs a handful of white dust from the pouch, and throws it against the wall.

For a moment, nothing happens, giving time for Anvil and Bubbles to take point while Astray and Connie stand in the back. Cromach, watching the professional approach of the group, remains a bit to the side.

That proves to be the smart choice, as a sudden whirlwind of colors bursts out of the wall, and sucks the four Silver Sun members inside, leaving a swirling surface where only the solid the wall was before.

Cromach shrugs, grabs his axe, counts to ten, and jumps in as well.

Few calculations happen in his head at once next. First, considering that Anvil and Astray are already back to back, fighting a wall of teeth and claws made of demons, there has to be a time dilation happening inside the pocket dimension, and the good kind on top. That means they can spend more time here and still return back to the real world in possibly minutes. Second, since Contradiction is currently telekinetically beating a group of red ponies with horns all over using a large, minotaur-like demon with blades instead of fingers, he doesn’t need to do anything crazy to control the situation. Third, there’s a black hellhound, teeth as long as Cromach’s talons, twice his size attempting to eat him.

With a swing of his axe accompanied by green lightning crackling along its edge, Cromach cleaves the hellhound in half, and charges through the gore at the closest target which happens to be a naked humanoid succubus cracking a thorny whip at him.

“Oh my, such a strong, beautiful specimen-” she purses her lips at him.

*Crunch!*

Her limbs simply flash for a moment, and then get ripped off of her torso without the succubus having any idea what’s going on. The rest of her gets crumpled into a small, bloody pulp, bones cracking under impossible telekinetic pressure.

“THAT’S MY GRIFFON, YOU DEMONIC WHORSE!” screams Connie, currently jumping between another minotaur demon behemoth’s legs to avoid a wide swipe of curved claws as long as her shin.

“Hmm, gruesome,” Cromach mumbles, “I could have gone for some hoof-to-hoof combat with that one.”

“I HEARD THAT!” Connie, currently between the demon’s legs, turns her telekinetic pressure into a blade, and pushes upwards, easily slicing the huge figure in half, “Now stop drooling over succubi and get some cardio in, fatty!”

“That’s what I had in mind, actually- WHOAH!” smirks Cromach, and avoids a demon thrown his way at meteoric speed who splatters against a wall behind him.

He approaches another succubus, this one looking like a minotaur even more endowed than Anvil, wearing spiked bra and a thong, and toying with a burning whip while observing the situation around.

“Hey, girl, wanna go for some one-on-one?” he cracks his talons.

This succubus’ eyes bulge, darting from him to the previously obliterated succubus, and then to Connie.

“Nope!” she starts fleeing into the distance as far as her legs and demonic wings allow.

Cromach sighs, and looks around with a bored expression. The inside of the pocket dimension is still the expected cellar, but one spread out to be the size of a hoofball field. A burning portal hangs in the middle of each side, demons of varying sizes and amount of teeth pouring in through them. In the center of the cellar is a summoning circle with a unicorn in his late teens hanging suspended in the air.

“Any pleasure demons wanting to devour my soul around here?” Cromach raises his voice to no avail.

With a pout, he starts heading towards the floating unicorn, all demons hastily getting out of his way, opting instead to chase Bubbles darting around the battlefield.

The little demonette’s attention turns to one blood-red demon twice the size of Anvil, with four arms and blades coming from the knuckles of each. He roars, tries to stomp her, misses and accidentally crushes an equine imp. Bubbles, though, crawls up his legs, digs her claws into his tough skin as if it was paper, and with a vertical jump she lands on his shoulder.

“Don’t I know you?” she squeaks into his ear, “I think mom summoned you once, right?”

“GET OFF OF ME, VERMIN!” the demon tries to grab Bubbles who deftly swings around his neck on his other shoulder.

“No, really. It was in this big cathedral with blood everywhere, and- HEY!” she snaps her jaws at the demon’s hand nearby, severing his wrist with one bite, “Stop flailing and bleeding everywhere! You still have three left, you big filly.”

“I WILL RIP YOU TO SHREDS!” the demon roars. The furious scream turns into a gurgle as Bubbles chews his head off with two powerful bites.

“Seriously, you just can’t talk to some demons,” she jumps off of the collapsing titan who crushes several scampering infernals underneath, “Hey, anyone? Does anyone know who my dad was? Mom summoned him, she was this tall, grey unicorn mare. Wore a lot of jewels most of the time. Good with binding circles.”

“I can be your daddy if you want one, little filly,” a muscular incubus of Cromach’s size, with positively massive endowment hanging between his hind legs pounces over Bubbles, slapping her in the face with his dong, “Just open your mouth and-AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” his deep voice turns into a high-pitched screech as he watches in complete disbelief as Bubbles runs off with the entirety of his ripped off junk, dragging one end on the floor due to its sheer size.

Tornado of blood, severed limbs, and shattered skeletons surrounding Contradiction dissipates as she notices Bubbles trying to get inside. The demonette jumps to Connie, and spits out the demonic dong on the already messy floor.

“Look, miss Connie. This guy’s bigger than the stuff you always order from Bad Griffon! You can take it home and stuff it if you want,” Bubbles points to the incubus now bleeding out on the floor, his forelegs pressed against the open wound in his abdomen.

“That’s not how they make those, but thanks for the thought,” Connie pats Bubbles’ head, “Now go play with those guys,” Connie points to a horde of demons trying unsuccessfully to stuff themselves back into the one-way portal, giants stomping over the corpses of smaller ones, “That guy’s the same color as you are.”

“Hey, he’s got tentacles instead of eyes. Neat!” Bubbles runs off, stopping by the groaning and dying incubus, and spitting out his severed genitals, “Miss Connie said she already has a bigger one, so you can keep yours. But hey, at least you got to touch my mouth, right?”

The most marginally successful, or at least the least dead, group of demons is circling around Anvil and Astray. The minotaur swings her mace like a baseball bat, sending a snake-like demon flying so hard it wraps like a bola around the legs of some slayer humanoid. Astray reaches on his back for his weapon with the most kick to it - a sawed-off shotgun with which he cleanly decapitates a hellhound snapping at him. In one fluid motion, he puts the weapon back, and blocks a swipe of claws from a griffon-like creature set on disemboweling him. He winces at the strength of the blow, deflects the limb away from himself, and with a quick swing back slits the demon’s throat.

The minotaur and satyr duo systematically fight back to back, more intent on winning the long battle rather than slaughtering as many demons as quickly as possible.

Cromach reaches the floating unicorn in the “center” of the cellar and, having no better exorcism idea, pokes his belly. The unicorn’s eyes roll backwards, his head turns three-sixty degrees, and he throws up blood all over the thankfully already mostly red griffon.

Connie approaches a succubus mare with heavy, hanging teats, who blows her a kiss.

“You up for a good time among all this carnage?”

“Sure, bring friends,” Connie nods.

The succubus blinks, and bares her fangs.

“Be careful what you wish for, girl,” the succubus spreads her wings, and with a moan, five younger succubi materialize out of thin air.

Connie’s horn glows, but this time an eerie feeling passes through the whole pocket dimension. Demons stop fighting, and absolutely everyone looks Connie’s way.

Giant ethereal tentacles looking as if made of sea water erupt from the floor, performing a surprise and rather fatal colonoscopy on each of the cheeky succubi.

“Hope that’s enough stretch for all of you, you horny sluts.”

“Ohhhhh crap...” the nearest demon titan breathes out in passable ponish, “Ohgodshitfuckcocksuckerdamnit!” he quickly scratches several symbols onto the floor.

A blast of golden light blinds everyone for a moment, and when the Silver Sun group blink away the afterimages, there are exactly zero demons anywhere around, the portals are gone, and the unicorn summoner is lying limp inside his summoning circle.

Cromach whistles.

“Well, this is the first time I’ve seen a demon use holy magic to banish itself to get away from us.”

The unicorn grunts, and Cromach leans down to him again.

“Hey, you okay?” he shakes the summoner whose bloody coat gives no sign of its real color. The unicorn opens his eyes, and gasps.

Black, almost liquid shadow quickly seeps out of his pores, as if ripped out, and drains into the cracks on the floor left behind by rampaging demons.

“What… who… oww...” the unicorn moans and whispers, “...thank you… whoever you are...”

Astray rushes towards the two first, and quickly pulls out a suppressor ring, immediately screwing it on the unicorn’s horn.

“Now,” Cromach shakes the dazed unicorn gently, “What happened here?”

“I… don’t know...”

“Come on, you don’t summon this amount of demons on accident unless you’re a student of ancient languages with really bad pronunciation,” the griffon frowns.

“I swear...” the unicorn groans, “I’m just… a baker… I don’t know… anything...”

A draft of cold air sends chills up everyone’s spine. Cromach turns his head around, only to see a pitch black crack hanging mid-air.

“Stop staring! The pocket dimension is breaking,” Anvil facepalms, “Didn’t anyone here read a book on advanced magic in their life?”

Something slips through the crack, a living shadow shaped like a pony-long snake with clawed arms in front which immediately lunges on Connie.

Cromach is there to interrupt the pounce, his axe slashing the shadow in two. As the creature dissipates, more and more start pouring from the crack and many more quickly appearing everywhere around. The griffon looks at his axe in confusion, and with his next practice swing the axe crackles with lightning again.

“Do these things… drain energy?” he mumbles, “Everyone, physical attacks only!”

The eight intruding creatures don’t know fear, unlike the demons, clawing and slashing their appendages at the group standing in a circle around the cowering unicorn summoner. Thankfully, their unknown origin doesn’t make them immune to the group’s weapons, and with the dimensional cracks gradually joining, the world shatters.

In the next moment, the group find themselves in a much smaller cellar although very similar in looks to the pocket dimension. With one final swing of his sword, Astray breathes out as he notices there are no hostiles anywhere around.

Cromach quickly slings the the sobbing unicorn clearly scared witless on his back, and points at the short stone stairs obviously leading up to the apartment building.

“Anvil.”

The minotaur rushes over, and kicks the door open.

“Move. We’ll sort the guy out back at home where we have a properly protected holding cell,” Cromach orders, and everyone follows him, “Bubbles, go inform the police that we’re done here. You can catch up with us.”

“The last bit wasn’t part of the summoning,” the griffon mutters to himself in the end, “I’d bet my ass on it.”

On the western side of Manehattan in the rich part of the city filled with mansions, gated communities, wide gardens, and open estates stands a white, three-story mansion in the shape of a V with round part in the middle. Surrounding it is a square of walls hiding open lawns within them and a gravel path leading from the mansion entrance to the only gate in the walls connecting the whole place to the world outside. There isn’t anything particularly special about it distinguishing it from all other mansions around other than layers upon layers of magical protections forming a dome over the entire area. If there was someone from the United Canterlot Orders of Wizardry nearby who was allowed to examine the spells, they would gladly trade their status and likely their own lovely grandmother for a chance to speak with the mage responsible for those barriers.

Of course, there was no one of that sort, but Cromach was currently busy talking with the changeling behind the protective spells, so there’s something. The changeling didn’t look like one, rather taking the look of a pure white unicorn mare with a light blue mane styled into something complex which wouldn’t go amiss on any Canterlot ball. In fact, everything around her screams “high-class lady”, which in itself betrays that she isn’t one. Real ladies are a lot more subtle about it.

Inside a circular room under the mansion there’s a magical circle within which sits the unicorn baker responsible for today’s summoning accident, and both the griffon and the “unicorn” mare are pondering the situation.

“Did you find anything, Starlight?” asks Cromach when the mare’s horn stops glowing.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, “No divine or demonic influence, no lingering magic, nothing. He’s clean as a whistle.”

“Hmmm… does it say anything to you?”

“Yeah,” Starlight glares at the young baker, “That guy has no clue what happened, and probably really didn’t have a hoof in causing it even on accident. Of course, you can give him to the police for questioning, punch him few times just in case, or find someone to put his brain into a wringer for a more educated guess,” she shrugs, clearly not caring about what happens with the baker next.

“Wait, no divine or demonic traces?” Cromach snaps his talons, “How is that possible? Getting rid of those kinds of marks is worse than trying to wash spaghetti off of a white shirt.”

“I’m going to assume you’re not too stupid and that you’re coming to the same conclusion as me - he got possessed magically, used all proper protection against demons, and then started summoning everything you described at random. Not sure why someone would do that through an amateurish vessel like this guy, but I’m neither a beginner nor incompetent, so I wouldn’t know,” Starlight turns to leave when Cromach says:

“Wait...” he frowns, “There’s more.”

“So get on with it,” Starlight rolls her eyes, “I haven’t got all day.”

“After the demons banished themselves-”

“Wait, what?” Starlight shoves a hoof into her mouth, snorting.

“Connie flaunted some of the divine power her contact with Harmony left in her, and the demons took it rather poorly, along with Bubbles’ unending search for her real father, and they used some mass holy banishment to get away from us. I know golden light those Celestia’s fanatics use when I see it.”

“Paladins considering Celestia holy is a fucking cherry on top of their already braindead cake, but let’s get on with the important stuff. Paladins are self-righteous morons who consider anything they don’t understand to be an unholy abomination, we all know that.”

“Bright Star wouldn’t agree with that, and he’s here this week.”

“He’s one of the few more open-minded ones, which I’d say is clear from him playing fetch with a fucking half-demon instead of trying to cut her head off. NOW GET ON WITH WHAT YOU REALLY WANT TO SAY BEFORE I GET UP AND LEAVE!”

As is painfully obvious, Starlight isn’t a nice changeling. Skilled at magic and incredibly experienced, but not nice.

“As I said, after the demons committed the equivalent of mass suicide regarding their physical bodies, the pocket dimension started breaking.”

“That happens when the power holding it together dissipates. Go on.”

“Something like a black shadow left the unicorn’s body, and escaped through one of the cracks.”

“That can mean anything, really. The only thing I can guess is that who or whatever possessed the baker was good enough to create a stable pocket dimension, and summon a bunch of demons at once even through a medium, which takes serious skill and raw power.”

“Could you do that?”

“Yeah, obviously. Wanna see?” her horn starts glowing as she glances at the baker who whimpers and looks away.

“Oh gods no,” Cromach sighs, “No, the important part happened afterwards. Some black creatures emerged from the cracks, and attacked us.”

“From inside the cracks which are a manifestation of a reality bubble breaking?” Starlight furrows her brows, “Hmmm… that’s way more interesting. How did the things look?”

“Like living shadows. Few simply looked like ponies. I hacked one of those and my axe passed clean through. When I summoned my divinity, it destroyed the creature completely. However, the other kind looked like big snakes with long, spindly arms and sharp claws. I attacked that one too, and I… I think it drained the divinity in my axe. It died too, though.”

“Bingo!” Starlight ruffles the feathers on Cromach’s chest, “Not a typical birdbrain are we?”

“Well, you know I’ve had my experience with eldritch beings.”

“Eldritch wouldn’t be the term I would use here, but close enough. What we call eldritch beings are creatures from distant stars which manifest their influence onto planets inhabited by intelligent life and- nevermind, I got carried away. These creatures you saw are what I know under the names shadow -yes, it’s basic but it works- and nishruu. Where they come from is somewhat of a mystery. They usually appear near unstable points in reality, but their structure doesn’t hint at them being from a different dimension, rather from someplace with completely different laws of reality.”

“Like… up is down or… time exists in clusters?” Cromach takes a wild guess.

Starlight blinks, clearly shocked more than a foal sticking a fork into an electric socket.

“That’s surprisingly close. More accurate idea would be the interchangeability between matter, will, and energy, though, and possibly a complete lack of time as we know it. Shadows are creatures of pure energy which however manifests in our world as mass, thus they have physical forms. The nishruu look the same to our eyes, but are completely different. They are more like… living holes that suck our kind of energy, which means life, electricity, magic, divinity, anything. To them there’s no or very little difference between those. The only thing I know is that they don’t retain it in any way we can measure. It just disappears. I’d like to tell you more, but there’s no research on this subject anywhere in the world. Every trace I’ve ever followed ends in a giant crater as if simply a part of the area went missing, and everything around collapsed on it. Sadly, that’s also true for any notes or crazy living researchers. I generally avoid experiments which have a high chance of wiping me and possibly all reality from existence, that’s called sanity.”

“Call me paranoid, but I don’t think the shadows attacking us was an accident.”

“I’d honestly say it was. Your, Bubbles’ and Contradiction’s divinity had to be like a lighthouse to those creatures when the pocket dimension started cracking.”

“Yeah, but this didn’t look to me as if someone was trying to remotely send a demon army into Manehattan. If I was really ready for a tin foil hat, I’d say that someone caused the demon infestation knowing that we would be the only force capable of semi-safely handling it, and that the pocket dimension was made to break down quickly after we got rid of them. That would leave three bearers of divinity in a position to be drained by those creatures. Can they actually drain it from someone just being there, or would we have to be actively using it?”

“Oh yeah. The nishruu are very rarely summoned when one wizard wants to nullify some other wizard’s protective magic. They have to be really pissed off each other to risk opening a rift to wherever those come from, not to mention that there’s always a chance that the nishruu will simply target the wizard in front of it.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yep. Did that to a guy before I knew what I was working with, and I’ve never done it since. As I said, I’m not messing with those before I figure out how to prevent the energy drain.”

“Well then, if you recall anything else, let me know. I’ll send someone to escort this guy home.”

“No problem. This actually turned out to be mildly interesting, so it’s not total loss. Oh, one last thing! I’ll be gone next week so if you need anything magical, you’ll have to rely on one of the amateurs around.”

“Sure, enjoy your vacation,” Cromach gestures to the baker, and takes his suppressor ring off, “Wait, one last thing, Starlight. Can you set up either some protective spell or an alarm in case these shadows appear here?”

“There already is an alarm for that. Negative plane creatures are notoriously easy to detect, if nothing else. It’s like looking for holes in a sheet of paper that are trying to eat the rest of the paper.”

While Cromach is busy downstairs with Starlight, up on the top floor of the mansion, Astray takes his armor off, and rubs his palms. It’s difficult to move the fingers of his right hand after having to block so many attacks with his sword.

“Ouch! Those demons sure packed a punch,” he starts slowly opening and closing his fist to help the blood flow. Thankfully, from the looks of it he doesn’t seem seriously hurt. A lot of bruises all over, and possibly a cracked rib or two, but considering what they were against, he got out in great shape. Granted, he’s still the one who got beaten up the most, but since he doesn’t have any superpowers or hasn’t been wrestling polar bears since birth, that’s to be expected.

“Arrrgh!” yells Anvil from the shower, “Why can’t we ever fight anything that’s easy to get out of my mane?! Damn demon bits! Ah, screw it!”

What follows is a completely nude minotaur storming out of the shower with shampoo still on her head who opens the single big window of the room, and sits on the windowsill, which with her size means half of her ass hanging out, if the term hanging can be used for buns of steel like those. Few appreciative whistles come from the training grounds around the mansion. It seems that some of the recent recruits still haven’t encountered what’s a common sight around the mansion by now.

Astray only gives Anvil a casual glance before getting out of his chair, and heading to the bathroom himself.

“And where do you think you’re going, twiggy?” Anvil smirks at him.

“I’d prefer not stinking up the room anymore than-” he realizes what Anvil means, and sighs, “I suppose we’re not excused from afternoon training because of something minor like a whole army of demons trying to kill us?”

“Of course! And then we’ll get a free massage and a cake with ‘Good job’ written on it,” the minotaur rolls her eyes, stands up from the sill, and stretches, showing the whole world outside her muscular back and Astray her front. Poor guy is so exhausted he can’t even enjoy the sight usually possible to create in other dimensions only with the help of some serious steroids, silicone, genetics, and preferably an act of some benevolent god, “Like Cross always says-”

“The baddies don’t wait for you to be fresh and ready before attacking!” Bubbles’ cheery voice comes from out of the window, showing the mare hanging outside by her forelegs, and peeking into the room, “Mister Cross says to come down, that everyone is already there. Wait, did I hear cake?”

“And what does sir Cromach always say about climbing up the mansion walls?” Anvil pulls flailing Bubbles by her ear into the room.

“Ow ow ow ow ow!” Bubbles drops on the floor, rubbing her head, but obviously unhurt, “...that it’s getting expensive having to call somepony every other week to paint over the claw marks...” she mutters.

“Good,” Anvil gives her clothes lying on the lower bunk of the bed which is hers an annoyed glare, “Ah screw it. Just the skirt.”

“And the blouse,” Astray adds, “Last week, the neighbor colt twisted his fetlock when Bubbles noticed him hanging from the top of the wall to spy on you and scared him, remember?”

“Serves that little creep right. It’s not my fault Antares keeps stripping me during every practice,” Anvil shrugs, but puts on the airy, white blouse which covers precisely nothing.

“You can’t blame him, can you?” Astray leads Bubbles and Anvil down through the red-carpeted hallways of the Silver Sun headquarters, “You’re quite something to look at.”

“Of course I am. It takes a lot of effort to maintain my strength in this lazy city,” Anvil crosses her arms on her bountiful chest, pushing everything way up, “But that colt shouldn’t have been hiding. I like it when others have the balls to admit they’re drooling over me. You should know the best.”

“Guilty as charged,” Astray smiles to himself. Anvil still hasn’t understood that her level of appreciation of openness and honesty is absolutely unique in the pony world. Refreshing and relaxing, certainly, but still unique. If anyone else walked up to a any other mare and said ‘I like the way your plot jiggles.’ they would immediately get either punched or greeted with loud screams of ‘Get away from me, creep!’. It must be a minotaur thing, or just an Anvil thing based on supreme confidence in her body and skills.

When they walk onto the gravel road outside, they head to the lawn on the right where there are already four other figures waiting for them.

“Huh, someone new?” Astray raises an eyebrow when he gets a clearer view of the four.

The most noticeable figure is a tall batpony, or someone attempting to look like a batpony by assuming the batponiest of batpony features. He’s all greying black, his eyes are red with slit pupils, his wings are leathery and a little too big and too menacing. Like pretty much everyone working for a combat organization like Silver Sun, the suspiciously-maybe-not-a-batpony is muscular, although definitely not bulky. What, however, is possible to feel from him even without any special powers is absolute confidence dwarfing Anvil’s like a star compared to a speck of dust. However, where Anvil openly flaunts everything she’s got, this pony’s quiet presence is overwhelming on its own. Horatio Cross, which indeed is his name for reasons too long to explain right now, would disagree with most of the assessment, though.

The second creature already observing the approaching group is a grey griffon with nothing particularly noticeable about him. Literally. Now, in reality he’s an ancient changeling who has recently been released from what can loosely be called a different dimension where he led a temple of griffon monks for about six hundred years. Not too surprisingly, he’s the Order’s expert on hand to hand, hoof to hoof, talon to talon, and any potential combination of those kinds of combat. Also, as mostly Anvil has had the chance to learn, he’s using his skills not for good, but for the perverted. The griffonized changeling’s name is Antares, he was part of changeling general Shadowstep’s original conquest of the Griffon Empire seven centuries ago. Somewhere out there, Cryo must be screaming beards into a pillow.

Number three, for once, is a completely real, blond-maned, white unicorn wearing the white, gold-foiled plate armor of the paladins. His full name is Bright Star the Third, and he’s here to help the Order with teamfight tactics while learning any possible new methods the paladins back in Canterlot could use to deal with unusual threats. He waves at Bubbles who darts off ahead to him and receives a quick scratching behind the ear. If age is relevant at this point, Bright Star is about hundred and fifty, but looks forty-ish thanks to extended lifespan granted by princess Celestia for his service in the paladin order.

The final equine is openly a changeling, yet he’s wearing paladin armor as well, which is something previously unseen. Of course, changelings have at times infiltrated the paladins, but this guy, nervously backing away from Bubbles giving him the widest smile she can, is a real paladin. Yep, it’s Ten, currently feeling seriously unlucky for having been brought here by Bright Star.

“Just pat her head, she doesn’t bite,” Bright Star chuckles, seeing Ten’s eyes open in horror as Bubbles walks up to him, tilts her head upwards, and simply stands there, grinning, “She’s just a little part pony, part demon without any formal education but with enough love for the whole world.”

When Ten just stands there, paralyzed, Bubbles only nuzzles his foreleg, and returns to Bright Star, her tail whipping around at random. The poor horrified infiltrator remains frozen, recalling Comfort’s needle-like teeth. Bubbles’ smiling mouth is worse. Maybe it’s just the overlay of cuteness.

“Let’s get down to business,” says Cross when everyone’s gathered, “Anty, have fun with Anvil. I’ll start with Astray. Contradiction will join us later for the team practice. Bright Star, Ten, you go play with Bubbles.”

Ten dies inside a little bit.

They all split up according to Cross’ instructions. Anvil cracks her neck as she faces Antares.

“I might be tired, but I won’t make it easy for you, you old perv,” she smirks.

“Everything worth doing is difficult,” the griffon quips back, standing up on his hind legs with zero trouble, and punches the air with both forelegs in succession.

Anvil’s low kick doesn’t surprise him as he simply takes a step back. She transforms her movement into a lunge followed by a punch. Antares spins around her outstretched arm, and cuts the back of her blouse with his talon in half. From her lunged position, Anvil simply shifts her weight back on her back leg, and swings backwards with her elbow, catching Antares already backing off in the ribs. That’s a lot of backs.

“Ooof,” the griffon smiles, “Not a bad blow. A little on the weak side, but you’re getting better at moving from position to position without wasting time. You’re still slow, though.”

Last year, and possibly even several months ago, that comment might have riled Anvil up, but now she just darts towards Antares with a quick one-two punch. The griffon opts to block the fast jabs this time with both forelegs. That proves to be a mistake which takes even him by surprise. Antares is fairly big for a griffon, and with his experience he would barely feel the blows anyway.

Weight, however, is something he can’t fake without shapeshifting, and while the jabs would be blockable from anyone else, Anvil’s punch fueled by her muscles coiled like steel industrial springs sends the griffon flying through the air. As Antares flaps his wings to stabilize his involuntary impression of a meat comet, Anvil is already in front of him, arm cocked back for a blow even he wouldn’t simply shrug off.

She underestimates his reaction time. Whether by some changeling enhancement or simply combat sense beyond her ability to understand, Antares knows exactly what’s going on, presses his wings tightly to his body, and drops down like a rock, making Anvil’s wide right hook go way above him. This time, as he’s under her, he cuts the belt holding Anvil’s skirt, leaving the minotaur completely naked with only the remnants of the blouse on each of her arms.

Anvil tries to stomp on him immediately, but her raised leg only means he can quickly roll from between her legs, and kip up back onto both hind legs with a smile.

“Come on, I know you can do better,” the griffon grandmaster taunts her, “I need to tire you out before we move onto the oil wrestling part of the training.”

“If you want to cup a feel, grandpa,” Anvil takes a deep breath to regain her focus for another exchange, “then you’ll have to try harder.”

As they resume the match between strength and skill, Astray parries a flying dagger while a rapier stabs at where his throat was fraction of a second ago. Cross advances on him. This being Astray’s defensive round of the practice, his goal is to prevent Cross from harming him with a growing number of levitating weapons as well as letting the instructor touch him.

Cross is going easy on him, Astray knows that. Cross always goes easy on everyone. He has to. Despite that, the satyr eventually misjudges the fourth weapon joining the three he’s already dealing with, and freezes as he feels a combat dagger number two softly dig into his lower back exactly between the plates of his armor, and the chain mail underneath wouldn’t stop a surprise stab of any reasonable strength.

It’s been less than five minutes, sweat is pouring in rivers under his armor, and he’s practically choking for breath. However, he is still standing, which is something he couldn’t do consistently during his first year in the Silver Sun.

Cross smiles, clearly not bothered by Astray’s failure.

“Good job,” he says calmly, “You’re getting better at using your armor to ignore blows from small blades while focusing on the real threats. I finished this with a dagger to teach you not to get complacent, though. You need to move in a way which would make it unlikely for a surprise attack with a quick weapon to find a weak spot.”

“Yes… sir...” Astray manages to groan, “I’ll do better… next time… sir...”

“If some demon army doesn’t mess with your ability to endure my training again, I don’t doubt you in the least,” the practice weapons casually floating around Cross disappear in a flash. Instead, he summons only a singular sword which the satyr would consider two-handed, “So, ready for your offensive round?”

Astray knows that the question isn’t really a question at all. With his short sword in his right arm and a pistol in his left, Astray straightens up and assumes a combat position.

Astray’s swing is easily blocked by the flying sword, which was obviously going to happen. However, he quickly unloads a bullet at Cross’ forehead. Internally, he curses as his head catches up with his reflexive attack. Shooting at something Cross can move is a waste of ammo. Of course he doesn’t even see the “batpony’s” movement, only a shower of dirt in the back as the bullet hits the ground.

Disengaging with a backwards jump, Astray fires three times at Cross’ chest. One shot slightly to the right, one to the left, and one to the center. He has nowhere to move without getting hit or teleporting. Cross remains still. The central bullet goes ‘clink’ against the blade of the razor-sharp greatsword, sliced neatly in two halves which knock the other two off course. Astray only sees three small explosions of light, and his jaw drops:

“Oh come on!” he facepalms. Unfortunately, with the handle of his pistol, “Ouch, damn!”

“Now now,” Cross chuckles, “No time for gawking. Reload and try again.”

With a sigh, Astray obeys.

“Again, again, again!” Bubbles jumps around Ten currently levitating six balls made of some rubbery material in the air, his eyes locked on Cross in utter disbelief. Absentmindedly, he throws the balls in the air, Bubbles’ pupils shrink, and the demonette begins that little dance with her behind which cats about to pounce do.

Ten doesn’t care.

He can sense it. He can sense that Cross is part changeling. What bothers him is that he can’t figure out what the other part or parts are. His experiences with previous One of Chrysalis’ hive as well as the new One of boss’ hive gave him a good idea what kind of power a changeling can reach…

...or that’s what he thought before seeing Cross in action.

He could deal with Antares being around. The changeling disguised as griffon has experience and wisdom no other living changeling possesses. Boss’ One would likely get her ass kicked by him even though Ten has seen One enhance her physical attributes beyond what Antares ever showed he could, but that’s just One’s glaring lack of overall combat skill. Cross, however… Ten literally cannot even imagine a situation in which his entire hive with the help of Comfort could survive making him their enemy.

The final ball doesn’t even hit the grass as Bubbles grabs it and puts it down by Ten’s forelegs where the other five are already stacked in a neat line.

“Do the shotgun now, mister!” Bubbles beams. Ten looks at Bright Star who levitates the balls, gathers them into one cluster, nods at Bubbles who walks about three pony lengths away, and then fires them ahead with all his might.

Bubbles jumps into the air, catching one ball with her belly, one with each leg, and one in the mouth. Of course, the balls which hit her hind legs that end in hooves rather than claws bounce off.

No, she kicks those off. One at Bright Star’s head and one at Ten’s. The senior paladin catches his while Ten gets smacked straight in the mouth.

“Focus, Ten,” Bright Star waves his foreleg in front of Ten’s face, “This is as much our practices as it is theirs.”

“WE’LL GET EATEN!” yelps Ten.

“Hey, Bubbles!” Bright Star calls out as the demonette spits out all the balls back on the grass, “It’s time you practice with Ten for real.”

“Neat!” she jumps up and boops Ten’s nose.

“Well, Ten. Grab your sword and focus. Your goal is to hit Bubbles,” Bright Star, still sitting on the grass, explains.

“Like… with a real weapon?” Ten furrows his brows, slowly levitating his sword, “You know this is a paladin blade right? Light and enchanted.”

“A normal weapon would have difficult time harming a part demon like Bubbles. This way she has to try. Don’t worry and just go on. Bubbles, you only dodge.”

“That’s way better than playing fetch!” Bubbles ducks under Ten’s swing.

Bright Star leans to Ten’s ear after few seconds of his futile attempts at attacking and shooting bolts of magic at the same time, saying:

“Don’t hold back. Trust me.”

Ten redoubles his efforts, and quickly realizes how slippery Bubbles really is. His best slashes get avoided, magic harmlessly hits the ground, and quite soon his continuous assault relents as a stab of pain from his forehead breaks his focus completely.

“Ow, damn!” he rubs his horn, “Sorry, I’m not used to using so much power so quick-” he nearly swallows his tongue when Bubbles lands on his back and starts nibbling on his ear. She’s so light! Like air with teeth. So many sharp teeth…

What he also realizes, though, is that there’s pure love trickling straight from Bubbles to him for no obvious reason.

She… likes him?

No.

She loves everyone around.

“You’re like Three… but terrifying,” he breathes out.

Bubbles hops down from him, looks up into his eyes, her ears droop, and her lower lip wibbles. Ten steels himself. Now this is a territory he’s familiar with.

“I may have fallen before Three’s puppy eyes, but you don’t stand a chance. You’re adorable as well as horrifying, and I stand by it.”

“Woohoo, I’m adorable!” Bubbles bounces up without seemingly any preparation, and licks Ten’s nose, “I win.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Bright Star chuckles, “Now stop messing around during training, and grab two balls.”

“If you said that within earshot of any member of my hive, you know what would follow, right?” Ten snorts.

Bright Star tosses two balls at Ten’s head, who telekinetically catches them.

“Now just move them and try to stop Bubbles from catching them.”

Ten immediately makes the balls float some four pony lengths in the air.

“Like thi-”

Bubbles jumps.

“-whattheactualholeareyou?!” his smug grin is replaced by furious scream as he’s suddenly holding the demonette hanging by one ball with her mouth and the other with both forelegs.

“Don’t underestimate her, I mean it,” Bright Star winks at Ten, “However, the point was to for you to move the balls, not to put them where she likely couldn’t reach. No cheating.”

With Bubbles crouched so much that her barrel is pressed against the ground, her tail whipping the air, and her eyes locked on the balls, Ten rubs his horn numb from exhaustion, and the exercise continues.

With Bright Star now free to look around, he notices Astray and Anvil lying on the grass, relaxing on their back each, Astray out of his armor, and Anvil, obviously, completely naked. A short way away, Cross is sparring with Antares who, while looking significantly better than any of the combatants before him, ends the same, but at least he lands one punch on Cross.

“Oh well, time for this old unicorn to get his ass kicked too,” Bright Star stands up, and approaches the duo locked in casual melee, “Cross, can you fit me into your busy schedule?”

“Oh sure,” the batpony somehow levitating things, using magic, and kicking ass of everyone doesn’t stop attacking Antares who’s blocking and dodging during the conversation, “You’re free to join at any point.”

Bright Star smiles to himself. An elite paladin with war experience like him being treated like a fresh recruit… and rightfully so. His sword flies up, the unicorn ready to get schooled.

Due to his endurance, Bright Star is able to last until an amused female voice says:

“How are the victims doing?”

Contradiction is standing over Astray, hoof casually placed on his chest. The satyr doesn’t look bothered in the least.

“Very well, considering the circumstances,” Cross nods with no hint of irony in his tone.

“Good,” she takes her hoof off of Astray, “Get up, and let’s do the teamfight practice.”

“Lucky mare not to have to go through this,” Ten whispers into returning Bright Star’s ear.

“She usually has to. Something must have come up,” the paladin whispers back, “She actually does a special training course on the off days as well.”

“And I thought my hive was crazy.”

“What are you two lovebirds whispering about?” Connie taunts them.

She, Anvil, Astray, and Bubbles spread out into a square with Connie in the back, Anvil in the front, Astray to the left and Bubbles to the right. In the meantime, Cross and Antares have joined the two paladins.

“Alright,” Cross raises his voice, and nods at Ten, “Since we have a newbie here, let’s do a quick recap. Neither Starlight nor Shadowstep will be joining today. Instead, we have Ten, a junior changeling paladin. Ten, what can you do?”

“I’ve gone through paladin training, and I have combat experience from the invasion of undead from Zebrica,” Ten underplays it a little, unwilling to mention fighting Twisted and the Vigil, “My preferred weapon is a sword weighted for telekinetic use, and basic fire magic.”

“Impressive,” says Cross, once again without any irony which Ten finds hard to believe, “Anty and I will have to limit ourselves a little less then. Now, Ten, the goal is to incapacitate all enemy members, or have them admit defeat. Don’t be afraid to use your weapon, we have proper healers ready, although we’ve rarely needed to call them.”

“Yeah,” Connie smirks, “We’ve died outright more times.”

“Uhh, what?” Ten blinks in confusion.

“Asskicking time!” Anvil flourishes her warmace, and Bubbles charges ahead.

Somewhere, Ten hears an explosion, but he’s experienced enough to know to trust his teammates. His trust proves to be warranted as he feels Bright Star’s supportive magic wrap around him, and without any doubt he opts to send his flying sword at Astray carefully advancing at him and-

Astray doesn’t shoot his pistol at Ten, but behind him at Bright Star. Ten feels the magic around him falter, and he has to turn his head in order to realize that Bubbles is already on the other paladin who has to defend himself. That’s where shared hive mind of changelings is so useful during battles. He wouldn’t get surprised by an attack like this. Ten knows he needs to regain initiative, and rushes at Astray to stop him from being able to take another shot at Bright Star.

The satyr doesn’t try to block the swing of Ten’s longer blade, instead he just redirects it enough to miss him. Pushing the offense, Ten shoots a ball of fire from his horn which Astray blocks with his hand, only hissing as the hot air disperses around him.

Right, paladin armor. He’ll be somewhat protected from magic like I am.

In the back, Bright Star’s personal magic barrier shatters under the slash of Bubbles’ claws. The paladin instinctively backs off. What he doesn’t expect is Bubbles’ speed as she trips him up by slipping under him before he can lower his hoof again. The demonette pounces on his side, and-

-gets unceremoniously punted away by Antares using Anvil’s slower approach for darting backwards and helping Bright Star. The minotaur realizes her mistake, and turns it to advantage by charging at Ten from the side.

He has to block the swing of her mace with his sword, the blow making him feel as if his horn cracked there and then. Through sudden burst of tears, Ten backs away, only to feel Bright Star’s protective magic shatter under a barrage of bullets from Astray’s pistol. Those aren’t simple bullets he’s using. There has to be something specifically tailored to deal with magic in them.

Antares catches Bubbles already pouncing at him again by her foreleg, and uses her own force to spin around and fling her away one more time. Bright Star gets back up, and sees Ten currently being punched by Anvil, which isn’t something anyone wants to live through more than once. Bright Star’s horn flashes, and the impact merely momentarily dazes newly protected Ten instead of knocking him out.

Astray unloads three more shots at rapidly approaching Bright Star to buy him and Anvil some time. Ten, however, doesn’t have any time despite the older paladin’s protection. As if all previous training didn’t happen, Anvil is continuously bearing down on Ten with her mace, forcing him to dodge, because blocking isn’t an option.

The changeling tunnels on her too hard, and completely misses Astray quickly aiming his way and pulling the trigger two more times, which empties the clip of his pistol. Painful feedback from his own refreshed protective spell shattering is all Anvil needs at this point to swing her mace and smack Ten away like a golf ball. His armor holds, but he bounces off of the ground like a rock skipped across a lake.

Without skipping a beat, Anvil charges at Bright Star to give Astray more time to reload the anti-magic bullets.

In the back, Antares is locked in a dance of dodging Bubbles’ snapping jaws and claw swipes. However, he uses his much bigger size, and as he raises himself on hind legs, and predicts Bubbles’ charge ahead, he grabs her by her tail, and swings her in a circle over his head.

“Wheeeee!” yells the demonette happily, “But not this time!” she clamps her hind legs around Antares’ foreleg holding her tail, and curls up into a such tight ball that she turns around, and swipes at the griffon’s face scoring three deep grooves across his cheek, blood splattering everywhere. Antares stops swinging, which Bubbles uses to crawl on the back of his neck, and dig her claws into his neck. Even a changeling of his caliber likely wouldn’t survive a completely severed head with his enemies still around, which makes already healed Antares tap out with an appreciatory pat of Bubbles’ head.

Bright Star ends the same way as Ten, his magic gradually weakened by Astray’s shots as he has to defend himself from Anvil’s heavy assault.

“Alright, fillies! Show’s over, we lost,” Antares calls out.

The world stops swimming in front of Ten’s eyes, and he stares at the battleground in disbelief. The explosions he heard weren’t some grenades or shots from Astray. It was the fight between Cross and Contradiction leaving giant, deep craters and scars dotting the battleground. For the first time, there is a serious expression on Cross’ face while Connie is grinning from ear to ear, sweat pouring down the sides of her face.

“Does... this... usually happen…?” Ten chokes out.

“Not really,” replies Cross, without even breathing faster, “Usually we win. I guess Anty and I held back a bit too much. Good job all around,” he looks at the holes everywhere with an evil smirk, “And we did great job setting things up for recruit physical exercises tomorrow. They always enjoy some landscaping.”

As everyone gathers their things, Ten finds himself sitting on the ground, pondering what just happened.

I’m a war veteran. I’ve fought that Vigil guy, hordes of Twisted, and I just got demolished so hard I caused the breakdown of my whole team.

“AAAH!” he screams when he sees Bubbles’ beaming face after looking up, which is followed by her hugging him around the neck, and a fresh torrent of love.

“You know, I think I’m starting to like you,” Ten mutters, and finds his face being licked all over.

“Stop slobbering all over my protege, Bubbles,” says Bright Star with a chuckle, and Bubbles releases her victi- her new friend. He helps Ten get back on all fours, “Don’t let this bring you down. My first practice here was very similar, and those guys only met shortly before,” he nods to the backs of the leaving group.

“That’s not it...” Ten shakes his head, “I mean that too, but I could get over that. Antares and Cross, though. No, just Cross. What is he? I can sense his hive link, I can sense the love in him, and… I don’t know how to explain it to a non-changeling. He feels… infinite. Infinite in power, love, skill.”

Bright Star smiles.

“That’s what happens when you lose so many times and learn from each one until there are no more lessons left to learn,” the paladin leads the way back to the mansion, “Did that sound wise? I tried really hard.”

“I suppose so,” Ten sighs, “Guess I’ve got a lot of losing ahead of me.”

In the silence of his office on the top floor of the mansion, Cromach is sitting in a comfortable chair behind his desk, toying with a wine bottle imported from the Griffon Empire. Unlike two years ago when situation would be vastly different, the bottle remains corked, though. On the desk in front of him stands an incredibly lifelike bronze statuette of an alicorn with tiny sapphires for eyes and individual strands of platinum forged into mane and tail. Such craftsmanship must have cost a small fortune.

“What do you think?” asks Cromach either no one or the statuette, “Am I just paranoid?”

Alright, with the amount of magic in Equestria, there was a chance that the alicorn would reply, but it doesn’t.

“I think I’ll do it your way,” the griffon continues, “If I’m wrong, nothing happens. If I’m right, we’ll be ready.”

He pauses for a moment, and then chuckles. There’s no humor in it, though.

“As ready as we can be without you, I mean.”

Knocking on the door interrupts his monologue. The door opens without waiting for his answer. There’s only one pony who does that, and it’s Connie. The monochromatic mare enters, and puts a sealed metal scroll case on Cromach’s desk.

“From Canterlot, sir,” she salutes.

“You really need to pick either ‘sir’ or ‘Cromach’,” the griffon unscrews the case, and unrolls the scroll hidden inside.

“I’m trying to keep it professional in business setting. I don’t mind screaming your name in private,” she winks at him.

“Which reminds me, we should ask Starlight for a soundproofing spell. The recruits in rooms under ours complained they couldn’t sleep last time.”

“Can’t help it. For a guy whose last lover was a stallion, you know your way around the block,” Connie’s eyes dart to the alicorn statuette, “Sorry.”

Cromach waves his talons dismissively.

“I’m not going on a depressed drinking binge every time someone mentions him anymore. The bottle is more a reminder of what not to do,” he finishes reading the scroll, and rolls it back inside the case, “So, the two of us are invited to Canterlot for the royal summit. Why do you think that is, Connie?”

“For protection?” she hazards a fairly safe guess.

“In Canterlot? Surrounded by the whole paladin order, the Royal Guard, united orders of wizardry, and each invited ruler’s bodyguards. There’s way greater chance of a dragon ambassador accidentally eating someone, in which case we wouldn’t be involved anyway...” he muses for a moment, “Unless we choose to.”

“What do you mean?” Connie raises an eyebrow.

“That it’s just Celestia’s power play over Vargaz, trying to show that I’m more involved with Equestria than the Griffon Empire. Say… if we’re to protect the summit effectively, we need to take everyone from the Hoof of Fate.”

“Won’t the castle be full with all those foreign bigwigs visiting?”

“I’m playing Celestia’s game. Right now, I still have to. However, since I can’t tell her to just stuff another cake into her mouth, or to cut out the middle pony and ram it up her ass straight up, we’ll take our protection duty seriously. The least the princesses can do is scrounge up few more rooms. If someone other than Luna had at least half a brain inside that castle, Blaze might still be alive. It’s not as if we can do anything against a real divine threat without him.”

Connie leans over the desk, and softly strokes the griffon’s cheek.

“We’re training as hard as we can. We’re much better than when we faced the Vigils and Harmony.”

“And ask yourself for real. What would have changed if who you are now was on that pyramid instead of old you? Void would have needed Discord’s help anyway. Scream would have died anyway. Blaze would still be the only one whom the god would even see, and I wouldn’t have been able to fight Blinding Light without Discord anyway. We would have killed all the original Vigils faster, and then what?”

“We...” Connie doesn’t have an answer, so she sighs, “We need a real unicorn, sir. I can’t use magic, I will never be able to. Starlight is our specialist, but she works for herself, not you. If we had someone knowledgeable about the theory of magic, not some half-assed battlemage, they might have been able to close the rift and stop the god from coming.”

“But those always go crazy from the mercury fumes...” Cromach pats her head, “Ignore my grumbling, Connie. We’ll do all we can, because that’s, well, all we can do, really. If we have to face something that’s just punched through all paladins and guards, then we’ll do it, no matter how ineffective we would be.”

“If you’re really that worried, wouldn’t it be better to take Shadowstep’s changelings with us rather than Anvil, Astray, and Bubbles?”

“Nice alphabetical sorting. And no, they wouldn’t go. They work for us because they believe we’re the best chance at stopping or softening the gods’ meddling. They don’t want to be political pawns for anyone. I prefer having them here anyway.”

Connie nods.

“When are we leaving, sir?”

“In the evening,” orders the griffon, “Go inform everyone and reserve the tickets.”

“Will do.”

After a quick salute, Connie leaves. Cromach boops the alicorn statuette with a talon.

“We’re lying to ourselves that we’d be able to do even a thousandth of what we could do with you. Let’s keep that lie going then, shall we?”

Astray isn’t bothered by any of the deep fears of his superiors. His current fear is that his legs will give out as he’s standing in the shower. After the rough training, the warm water just feels so good it can’t be legal.

“There you are!” Bubbles barges into the bathroom, completely unbothered by the naked satyr. In fact, she stops and looks him up and down, “You got beat up pretty bad,” she adds, taking in the blue bruises all over him.

The suite the members of the Silver Sun specialist unit called Hoof of Fate mostly for fun inhabit these days is vastly different from the one they had as recruits, mainly in size, which means that the walk-in shower can very easily fit the satyr as well as the demonette who joins him, sitting down with her back to him.

“You know that you can take all the time you want in here after I’m out,” Astray comments, squirting shampoo on his legs and massaging it into his grey fur.

Bubbles shuffles closer.

“I like showering with you because you can do me from the back,” she rubs her back against his leg.

“Was that an innuendo?” asks Astray. You can never be sure with Bubbles.

“Mhm, but it’s true too!” she turns around, looks up, measures the distance, then jumps up and kisses Astray’s nose with the precision of a sniper. Unfortunately, she lands on the shower floor slippery from the champoo, and slides head-first into the wall.

“Oh Celestia, are you okay?” Astray picks her up. Bubbles blinks out of sync, shakes her head, and presses her lips against his. A moment later she clamps all four legs around him. In response, Astray grabs her by her tight backside, and not only because it’s the best way to hold her up, judging by his fingers digging into the rusty coat.

“I leave you two alone for few minutes, and you decide to hog all the fun,” Anvil, naked as usual, enters the bathroom without any regard for running water and it obviously being occupied, “Nothing for poor hot me?”

Astray clamps his hands over his crotch awakened by Bubbles’ sloppy kissing. The demonette kicks herself off of him, and twists in the air to land on Anvil in the same position. The minotaur endures first few Bubbles’ kisses, and then tries to twist her head to avoid more slobber, which Bubbles uses to immediately begin motorboating Anvil’s breasts.

“Blbrlbrlrblrbrl!”

“You’ve turned out to be quite the little perv,” Anvil comments, resisting the incessant tickling, “didn’t you?”

Bubbles looks up at her, beaming.

“Half-succubus, or third… or… did we figure out the earthpony math in the end?”

Anvil looks at Astray unable to control his imagination anymore, his hands not being enough to cover his equipment anymore, especially when she puts her hand on her hip and stretches her leg into a side lunge.

“What does she have that I don’t?” Anvil turns around and sticks her massive round booty out at the satyr.

Bubbles calls out from the top of her lungs:

“Big teeth and cute, fluffy ears!”

“Agreed,” says Connie flatly from the bathroom door.

“Is this a shower or a corporate boardroom?!” Astray rams his hands tighter into his crotch.

Anvil strikes a sexy pose with one hand on her hip and one pointing her nipple at Connie. Bubbles drops off of the minotaur, and jumps at the unicorn who catches her in a telekinetic grip and lets her just hang there.

“Wanna shower with us, miss Connie?” floating in the air doesn’t bother her at all. In fact, she flaps her forelegs, “Wheeee!”

“I’ll pass,” she says, her eyes betraying her and running over both Anvil and Astray, “Now, we’re leaving for Canterlot in the evening. I’ll go buy tickets and come back with them later. Grab a bite of something.”

“Will do,” Astray salutes, leaving himself uncovered under Connie’s scrutinizing stare.

She hums to herself, then shakes her head.

“Nah, size is fine, but I prefer something with more bumps and ridges,” she laughs as Astray realizes what she means and clamps his hands over himself again.

“Don’t bash it till you’ve tried it, miss Connie,” Bubbles sticks her tongue out at her, and Connie lets her drop freely.

“And that mouth beats a beak any time,” adds Anvil, much to Astray simply giving up and covering his tomato-red face.

Connie, clearly unimpressed, turns to leave.

“Griffon tongue is three times as long and completely prehensile.”

Anvil measures the satyr up and down.

“Well, that kills your usefulness completely. We’re trading you off for a griffon as soon as we can.”

“Please, kill me,” Astray shuts off the water, and finally wraps a towel around himself.

“Should have run when you had the chance,” Connie leaves with a grin.

About twenty steamy, both literally and figuratively, minutes later, Astray is lying on his back with Bubbles under his head like a pillow on the carpet when Anvil comes out of the bathroom as well, having taken a lot longer to towel herself off. Nothing family unfriendly happened, only a lot of teasing.

“Yo, I need a massage,” says Anvil, spreading a bigger towel on the carpet and lying down on her back as well with a hiss.

Astray knows better than to argue, and digs his fingers into Anvil’s neck, slowly moving lower. With the harshness of their regular training, good massages are the only way to avoid permanent damage, and Anvil taught him all she knows regarding physical therapy, and she reads a lot. This is no time for perving around, no matter how tempting it might be. He still hesitates before starting to knead her breasts, which she notices immediately.

“You’ve already reamed both of us enough times, idiot. Are you waiting for an invitation to massage me properly?” she rolls her eyes, “You know I’m mostly joking about that inadequacy stuff these days, I’ve trained you well.”

With a deep breath, discipline returns to Astray’s mind as he does his best to relax Anvil’s muscles, which Bubbles tries to help with when Anvil turns on her belly by stomping on her back. The lightweight demonette jumping on the strong minotaur’s back is about as effective as a cat preparing a pillow to sleep on, but no one tries to stop her.

Unlike the changelings, the Silver Sun members board their train in an orderly fashion, and settle down in their booth inside the common car. There are many other ponies in their booths on the sides of the car, their chatter forming a pleasant background to Anvil and Astray slowly dozing off on a bench with Bubbles draped over their laps.

[This train will be leaving for Canterlot in five minutes.]

The announcement from the train intercom is followed by an earthpony in a booth across the aisle quickly standing up, and mumbling:

“Wait, Canterlot? I didn’t want to go to Canterlot,” he rushes towards the nearest exit of the train, “Damn it, they sold me the wrong ticket...”

The train begins moving soon after, and silence spreads through the car as darkness outside the window deepens. Cromach finds his eyes closing, spurred by soft breathing coming from Connie’s head on his shoulder. The lights inside the car grow dimmer to let those onboard sleep through the overnight trip.

Something stirs in the shadows, and Cromach’s eyes immediately narrow, his head clearing up instantly.

He blinks.

As his eyes open again, there’s a black shadow akin to a floating robe standing above him.

“We have unfinished business, agent Cromach.”

The griffon can’t move, can’t speak, can’t do anything other than blink. And yet, he’s not scared. He’s lost too much to be scared by anything anymore.

Divine power from within him flares up, and with a crackle of green lightning he swipes up with his talons, breaking his rigidity.

Nothing.

The shadow was never there.

Connie is still asleep, and so is everyone else.

“Sleep paralysis? Nerves?” he mumbles, “Am I just on edge from the summit?”

He closes his eyes, ears perked for any unusual noise. When nothing happens, he decides to pretend that he’s asleep with no result. No ominous shadows, no indeterminate voice which might as well be just in his head.

After some pondering, he opts to apply the wisdom of his later lover - he can never prepare for all the ways the world will try to kick him in the nuts, all he can do is wear the toughest suspensor on the market.

Author's Notes:

Ayyy, I figured out why it wasn't copying bb tags from google docs. Damn Ms Edge.

3: Onwards to TOURISM!

My nose has been practically glued to the train window since we cleared the western forest surrounding mount Canterlot. I feel more and more uneasy as the panorama of the twin cities grows closer. Last time saw Canterlot like this, we were fleeing from paladins and the wrath of the princesses, albeit from a different angle. Returning here, even under vastly different circumstances, I can’t help feeling this is a trap.

Gem is sitting across the window table from me, watching me with a smile on her muzzle while I can feel her looking out of my eyes. Eleven is still asleep all over the overhead compartment, not even single body keeping watch. One is leaning on me, drooling on my shoulder while Three is curled up in her lap.Two is stretched on her belly on the bench next to Gem, and Cryo is snoring loudly on the floor, legs stretched into all directions like one of those wolf pelt rugs the minotaurs use.

[We will be arriving to Lower Canterlot in five minutes.]

“Everyone, wake up!” I poke those few still asleep via their mental links as the train announcement stops, “We’re almost there.”

Rustling from above, and a short rain of changelings announces Eleven ready to start the new day. One blinks, looks down at my chitin sticky from her saliva, and sticks her tongue out to lick it off. Two pushes herself up, her jaw drops, and she jumps on Cryo’s back while propping herself with her forelegs on the window table.

“I thought Brauheim was something, but this...” she’s completely at loss for words as she stares at the city ahead, “It’s… your memories didn’t do it justice, seriously. Which part is Canterlot, anyway?”

“In my defense, the last time I saw the twin city like this, it was night and we had different things on our mind,” I pat her head. Her tongue sticks out before she realizes it and withdraws it. It’s a happy changeling reflex, “Well, both cities are Canterlot, only the lower part is for the more common folk while the upper city is where the royalty and nobility live.”

“Common ponies live in the upper city too,” Gem adds, “Generally those who work in high-end establishments or serve the nobility.”

Two suddenly bumps her head against the ceiling as Cryo simply pushes herself upwards, blinks, and stares at the city getting closer with each second. I can sense only the faintest twinges of memories from her, fragments, not even full images. The smell of fire here, a hint of clashing steel and voices there, but nothing that would paint anything even remotely resembling a picture. She shakes her head, challenging Two’s balance, and remains silent. I get the feeling that I know more of the siege of Canterlot from the rulers’ memories than she can recall.

“Are you feeling okay, Cryo?” I ask only her.

“Aaah, voices in my head! Who’s that?!” is her panicky answer before she blinks, “Oh, you, boss beard. I’m not the brightest in the morning… nor at any point these days, really,” she shakes her head, “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just getting the feeling that this place should be intensely familiar, that’s all. So… this is the place where it all went wrong… or right, depending on how you think about it.”

“I only know what little I remember from the rulers’ memories, and from what you told Two before your old self faded. I was hoping you’d recall something.”

“Well, I know I saw a sight like this at some point in my life, that’s all. Maybe something will float to the surface later. Or maybe it won’t. It doesn’t matter, really. I think you understand.”

“I do,” I look around the coupe at the waking changelings in various state of yawning. Eleven is already standing on the window table, face pressed against the window and mouth open wide.

We both have everything we need right here, no matter what happens on the summit. Although it would still be nice to have the official “You won’t be hunted by paladins” sticker.

“This place makes me want to punch someone...” comments One without any ire in her voice, “Everyone, and I’m looking at you, Eleven,” she pouts at the final Eleven trying to slide open the window from the overhead compartment, “Stop messing around and let’s get ready to go.”

“We still have some half an hour,” Gem corrects her, “Our tickets are for upper Canterlot, not the lower city.”

“If it’s not a problem, I’d like to take a walk through the city,” I say, “We didn’t get much chance for sightseeing last time we were here. You said you planned this so that we’d arrive a day earlier.”

“That’s not… the best idea,” Gem thinks for a second, “As a diplomatic guest, there should be at least one Royal Guard with you just in case. It would be better if we reported to the castle, received the official retinue, and then took a tour of the city.”

“I… kind of want to visit some places we used to live in, and get reacquainted with the city. I’d prefer not dragging some pony official with me through the sewers and stuff.”

“Boss, if anything happens to anyone attending the summit-”

“What could happen that we couldn’t deal with and some random guard could?” One tilts her head, “I can protect daddy here from anything short of divine intervention.”

“I give you that,” Gem is still pouting, “but can you defend dad and anyone else who could be caught in the crossfire? Can you avoid any collateral damage? Because if any civilian gets hurt and dad is nearby, you can be sure that will be diplomatically on his head. A simple Royal Guard or some EIS undercover agent could be a witness to any accident and testify that you didn’t cause it.”

“Does anyone even know who is coming to the summit?” I interrupt One already opening her mouth to answer, “I mean, to everyone we’ll just be a bunch of changelings wandering around the city, which isn’t supposed to be a problem these days, is it?”

Gem ponders that for a moment.

“I suppose that’s true...” she sighs, “Look, dad. I’m just worried about you. I want this to go smoothly. I mean, if things go well, we might go around Equestria to see the sights, we might even visit Las Pegasus together again.”

One leans over and nuzzles Gem’s nose.

“I’ll be as diplomatic as I can, Gem,” she says, “No punching unless I get punched first, and even then I’ll think twice.”

“If you really want to have a look around, you know I can’t stop you, so I’ll ride ahead and inform the officials about your arrival,” she claps her hooves together, and levitates a pouch from her big backpack, “I almost forgot, here are some bits for expenses in case you want to partake in the festivities. The city should be full of visitors from all over the world, and both local and foreign merchants will have shops and stands open.”

The train slows down and stops.

“You can just leave the same way you boarded,” Gem adds a quick pointer, “No one is checking the tickets outside.”

I give Gem a quick hug as One leads everyone out, trying to maintain order, which is difficult in the small space of the hallway despite Cryo’s best efforts at not pushing anyone.

[We’ve arrived at the lower Canterlot station.]

“Have fun, dad,” Gem lets go, “And one final thing. You must think of a name. I mean boss, dad, and anything we or the dwarves use won’t suffice for official business. I’ll present you as king of the north, but you’ll have to meet other officials, and etiquette dictates that you be addressed by your full name and title.”

Oh holes…

“I’ll figure something out, Gem,” with a smile, I leave her alone in the coupe, and walk outside through the now mostly emptied train.

The train station is very similar to the one in the Crystal Empire, actually, without all the sparkle and shine, of course. And bigger… a lot bigger. I can see five more platforms, and the distant milling and sounds of heavy machinery moving tell me there must be more. The whole design is just one huge roof made of metal and glass held by dozens of pillars on each platform with empty space above the train tracks. Stands with food and souvenirs are scattered all over the place, although with enough space around not to disrupt the flow of passengers coming in or out too much.

Thankfully, while this place is completely packed, the fact that I, One, and Cryo are significantly taller than all ponies around is helping orientation a lot. Three is on my back, Two on Cryo’s, and Eleven is already distributed on every little bit of empty space on us.

“Guys, let’s go outside and see what’s around before we rush off,” I order, pushing through the crowd. Our sizes, especially Cryo’s, are enough to make our passage bearable, and we’re soon outside in the fresh air…

...and horrible heat.

“I’m meltiiiiiiing!” Cryo yells while covering her eyes. With a ‘hmph!’, ice crystals form on her body, “Much better.”

Two hugs her neck, and lets out a relieved sigh as the melting ice trickles down her carapace. Elevens jump off, and start licking her everywhere they can reach.

“I’m gonna have to figure out a transformation for this,” One furrows her brows, “I haven’t been in a scorching heat like this for years. Not counting magma streams under Brauheim.”

“Let’s find some shade and figure out what we want to do,” I switch into hive mind speech, “Stay connected. I got some gold from Gem so that we can mess around a bit. Feel free to explore in the meantime.”

“Neat!”
“IS THAT A BEARDING DRAGON?”
“Let’s see if Eleven can fly if we tie enough balloons to him!”
“Yay, we can!”

Aaaand everyone but One is gone. Three is floating over the crowd with Eleven using him as eyes, and Two is riding off on Cryo’s back.

“I don’t mind some peace and quiet,” after strolling through the streets for a while, watching the milling, One leads me off into a shady alley, “I must admit that what Gem said is making me nervous, but I wouldn’t deprive anyone of the spectacle everywhere in the city. It’s quite lively compared to the last time.”

“Worried you can’t protect me on your own?” I boop her, she snickers.

“Oh yeah, definitely, dummy,” she smacks my forehead, but her soft smile fades, “But not without collateral damage, no. This… this is important. We have a chance of smoothing things up with the princesses, to finally find personal peace. I can protect you, but by protecting you in the wrong way, I might doom everything you stand for. Now that I think about it, it might have been better if Five was here and I was back underground. She doesn’t blow up as easily as I do.”

“You’ll do well.”

“But what if-”

“You’ll do well.”

“I might-”

“You’ll do well.”

”I don’t know if I should be angry at you not taking this seriously, or happy that you trust me so much,“ she frowns.

“Well, it’s you, so you should focus on the part that doesn’t make you mad,” I smirk.

“I’m about to opt for the choke you option,” she shakes her head.

“Honey, I believe in you,” I run my hoof through her messy mane, “And leave the choking for later when we have our own room.”

She playfully punches my shoulder.

“So what are your orders, my king and nighttime jackhammer? Do we partake in the festivities? I’ve always wanted to hoof wrestle a dragon, and I’ve noticed few of those at the station as well.”

“There’s one place I want to check out more than anything,” I say and strengthen my mind links. I’m not sure how far I can reach the others, but communication feels a lot easier in the open air. We’ll just head back if we lose contact, “And it’s not like we’re missing out on anything, since everyone else is running around like crazy.”

A feeling of panic and pure horror from one hive link rushes over me out of nowhere, and I bolt, One in tow.

“MY EYES HURT!” Cryo lets out a frustrated roar which makes ponies around jump, but when nothing else happens, they go on with their business, which is, well, business really.

She and Two are walking down a long promenade full of shops on the sides and stands lined up in its center. Unfortunately, there are no trees or pillars other than public lamp-posts to shield her from the merciless sun, so while her ice magic is keeping her cool, she’s squinting and mostly focusing on not accidentally stomping on anyone. Two can relate, even though she did visit Crystal Empire more often and is used to daylight. There’s just too much of everything around - bright colors, bright ponies unlike the dwarves, loud shouting everywhere which is much worse than the markets in Brauheim. Her head is spinning already.

Suddenly, Two realizes that Cryo has stopped, and is narrowing her eyes at a unicorn stallion in front of her, levitating articles of clothing.

“Help, little beard, I’m being business’d!”

“You two look hot, lovely changeling ladies!” he’s yelling enthusiastically, “That black chitin must draw sunlight something fierce. I’ve got just the right stuff for you.”

This is the first time Two is seeing clothes not made of metal or leather, and is having trouble deciding whether the apparent thinness of the T-shirt the unicorn is waving in front of Cryo and her is by design for weather like this, or whether it’s just incredibly shoddy craftsmanship.

“How does additional clothing help us cool down?” asks Two.

“WHAT?” yells the unicorn over the crowd, “Speak up, young lady!”

“HOW DO WE GET COLDER BY WEARING MORE STUFF?” Cryo likely deafens the salespony and everyone in the vicinity.

As the unicorn’s eyes uncross and he rubs his head, he waves over to his shop. Two jumps down and enters while Cryo remains outside, only her lowered head peeking through the door frame. Even with the door open, it’s much quieter here.

“White reflects sunlight the best,” the unicorn smiles at Two looking around the shop filled with piles of folded clothes, some displayed on stands with various pictures, and strange black eyewear, “I don’t have anything magical or enchanted, but those things never last long. If you want summer clothes, you’ve come to the right shop.”

“Thank you for the offer, but we don’t have any money,” Two shoots him down politely. Diplomacy first, “My dad has everything we got for the trip with him.”

“That’s a shame-” the unicorn suddenly stops, smile spreading on his muzzle, “Although… would you be interested in a deal? Or namely your tall friend.”

“What would it be?” asks Two, instantly suspicious.

“A promotion!” the unicorn stomps his hooves, “I give you some clothing for free, and you’ll walk around wearing it and occasionally call out where you got it. That’s all.”

“No fine print?” Two narrows her eyes.

“Nope! Of course, the promotional stuff isn’t of the best quality, but if you want the finest pieces, you know where to buy those. Wait, no, one more thing - he quickly scribbles something on a big sheet of paper with a string attached.”

“Summer wear sale - forty-five percent off at Blue Skies’ emporium. Hundred and twenty-seven Cobalt st,” reads Two, “That’s… an address, right?”

“Mhm,” the unicorn- Blue Skies nods, “Just hang this around your friend’s neck so that everypony can see it.”

“Aaand then we can have your stuff for free. No one will be chasing after us?” asks Two, still suspicious. Granted, getting things for free was rather common in Brauheim, simply because everyone knew that changelings never wanted much and were openly part of the ruling class, but here she can’t help but feel that she’s missing something, which isn’t a good thing for an infiltrator. However, one look at the water trickling down Cryo’s neck as the ancient queen tries to lick her own wet forelegs is persuasive enough, “You know what? Deal! If you have anything that would help Cryo feel a little more at home here, I’m game. We’re from the north, and this weather isn’t pleasant by far.”

“Excellent!” the unicorn beams, and starts running around. First, he tosses a white T-shirt to Two, who puts it on. It’s somewhat loose, but feels pretty nice. Maybe she misjudged the unicorn when she thought he was just some charlatan. The T-shirt has a picture of the sun on it, and two half-moons with writing “Sun’s out, buns out!” underneath. Two furrows her brows when she finally realizes what it’s supposed to mean. Next, she gets some elastic band with a firm white square on one side.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Eyeshade. Put it around your forehead, with the rim above our eyes.”

Two does so, and immediately blinks. That is neat!

“Hmmm...” the unicorn hums, “I don’t think I have anything in your friend’s size, unless… well… you don’t mind looking a little risque?”

“Que?” Cryo tilts her head.

“That means lewd,” Two explains, unsure what lewd Cryo would look like.

“I looted stuff before!”

“I’ve got this XXXXXL sundress,” the unicorn levitates something which could comfortably cover a filled cart, “It’s billowy and fairly see-through, but don’t think it’s any worse than the T-shirt I gave you.”

“Never crossed my mind...” comments Two. Her intended sarcasm isn’t fair, though. The clothes are reasonably well done, and if they really help in this blistering weather, it will be worth it to look somewhat silly.

An attempt to put the dress on Cryo proves that there indeed is a way to make the ancient queen look indecent without trying. It’s spandex-tight on her, reaching just under her forelegs like a sports bra, and since Cryo’s chitin is constantly wet, in addition to her long, wet mane clinging to her neck it creates a show-off effect Two has never associated with her aunt.

“Oh my...” the gawking unicorn looks taken aback as he’s standing outside his shop after putting the sundress on Cryo is finished, “Sorry for staring, miss.”

“I’m not sure it’s working,” Cryo pokes her chest.

“It’s not exactly covering enough for you, miss,” the unicorn clears his throat, and darts back inside. A moment later her returns with a long, white skirt, “This might help.”

Of course, the skirt is long by the definition of a pony. On Cryo, it looks…

As the warrior queen flicks her tail, the unicorn blushes and rushes back into his shop. Likely to cool down. A mare nearby puts a hoof over one staring colt’s eyes. To be blunt, it looks like a tight mini-skirt on Cryo, squeezing about three quarters of her massive muscular booty so that the rest below the skirt bulges outwards when she’s relaxed. Combined with the instant wet effect, it’s no wonder that stallions passing by are turning their heads and staring.

Cryo shifts her legs, and the skirt tears on the side, which doesn’t help anything.

“I broke it...” she comments, looking back, “Do we call the boss to pay?”

“O-Oh d-d-don’t w-worry about t-t-that,” Blue Skies is levitating a wide-brimmed white had, standing slack-jawed, “...this is going to boost sales thousandfold...” he mutters to himself. Of course, Two can hear him, and the corner of her mouth curls up when she notices a faint gathering of lust everywhere around, “And this,” as Blue Skies finally gathers himself, he levitates the white hat on Cryo’s head.

“I’m still blind...” mumbles Cryo.

“We can fix that!” Blue Skies is longer inside this time, and pulls out a pair of the biggest sunglasses with string that definitely wasn’t originally part of them attached in the back. He levitates it to Cryo who puts them on.

“HA!” she beams, teeth as long as Blue Skies’ whole skull is high visible for all the world to see. She grabs the unicorn and pulls him into a very careful hug which means he only groans for a while and his eye bulge before putting him back down, “I can see again! In your face, Celestia!” she shakes her hoof to the sky, much to the laughter of few onlookers gathering around to see what the show is.

“Can I get a pair too?” asks Two. In response, she gets the sheet of paper with the address around her neck, and then Blue Skies dives inside his shop, accompanied by five customers, “Nevermind...”

“I like the respect they treat us with,” Cryo waves at a staring stallion who blushes, quickly waves back, and rushes off, “It makes diplomacy easier. No need to siege this city to teach the ponies a lesson.”

“Dad wouldn’t let you do that anyway...”

“True, but it still makes the stay here more pleasant,” she pats Two’s head, finally having learned to do it softly enough not to stun the poor little beard.

“You know what? You’re right,” Two smiles back, and jumps on Cryo’s back with only the faintest help of her wings. Up there, she takes a deep breath, “HEY, PONIES, GO VISIT BLUE SKIES’ CLOTHES STORE! WARES GOOD ENOUGH TO COOL A CHANGELING DOWN IN THIS HEAT.”

“Heheh, you heard that, right?” Three, surrounded by eleven Elevens, pokes the nearest one who nods. All Elevens turn shiny white in a moment, followed by Three, “Hmmm, I can’t feel any different, but we’ll see.”

After having separated from the boss and wandering around for few minutes, Three and Eleven are looking around the main promenade of lower Canterlot, watching the colorful ponies momentarily slightly surprised by their transformations.

“Can I get that?” a small pyramid of Eleven is already propping the top one face to face with a stallion operating an inflatable balloon stand.

“It’s two bits per balloon, or I can make you an animal for three,” says the pony warmly.

“Awww… nevermind then,” Eleven is straining his speaking focus, “Thank you.”

“Boss has all the gold,” Eleven says mentally, recovering from the effort of maintaining balance and speaking from one mouth.

“Let’s find something we can try for free,” Three doesn’t lose his enthusiasm, “There must be… like a thousand ponies here. And you know you’re supposed to speak out loud. No slouching and disappointing the boss.”

“Okay,” Eleven nods.

Short while later, Three, floating above the heads of ponies, spots something blue ahead with a lot of young voices coming from there. He looks at a swarm of Eleven grouped underneath, and points.

“Let’s see what that’s all about.”

The carefully, and in some cases fairly acrobatically, make their way through the slowly moving crowd to a rather open area with something that Three identifies as an above ground pool, strictly on the basis of colts and fillies swimming around with ponies chatting nearby. He observes the situation for a while, and spots a colt simply getting inside the pool via a short set of steps. There doesn’t seem to be anyone wanting money for entry. Three floats down to Eleven, saying:

“Wanna cool down a bit? I admit the white color helps, but water would do us good.”

Eleven nods, and follows Three who walks to the pool undisturbed, with only few sideways glances from the parents around it. He drops in, and breathes out. Despite him being a little bigger than the foals, the water is up to his chin.

“It’s a little deep, so be careful,” he warns Eleven.

The first of four Elevens pokes the water, and finds it pleasantly cool even in this weather.

Then he steps in, and the remaining three on the steps jump instantly afterwards.

The mental echo of his panic resonates far and wide.

Four Elevens immediately start drowning, them being slightly smaller than even the foals. Three grabs one, but can’t fly him out due to wet wings, so his legs are flopping in the water to get one to the edge of the pool while the others are splashing and choking. Eleven can’t just grow something as complex as gills. He can barely do basic surface transformations.

Elevens outside just sit there, all control left from those bodies.

I’m galloping through the street already, world slowed down to a crawl. Yet, despite my enhanced speed, I see an even faster blur ahead, moving ponies aside so that my mad dash doesn’t hurt anyone. Neither I nor One can fly even remotely as fast as we can run, so we just do that.

Three has just managed to push one Eleven to the helping hooves of a pegasus outside, and dives back down where three more are only twitching along with the screaming of colts trying to get out.

One jumps in, transforming her forehooves into claws, and grabs an Eleven each while I feel desperate power well inside me. Through One’s eyes, I target my telekinesis, and pull the final Eleven out. An earthpony mare snatches him from the air, and stomps on his chest. I almost dart ahead and decapitate her, but she lowers her hoof from Eleven’s chest, puts her lips to his, and blows air into him. I must be missing something.

Her Eleven starts coughing immediately, and so does the one to whose chest One puts her horn and lets out a little love lightning. The one Three got out in time is sitting on the flagstones, trembling, and I grab the last one and carefully shake him, which by what must be pure luck because I have no clue what I’m doing works, as he begins coughing out water as well.

“What the hole, Three?!” my raised mental voice is shaking as well.

“I… I’m sorry, boss. The pool was too deep, and when Eleven panicked I couldn’t help him float. I’m… so sorry...”

I walk over to the earthpony mare and take a deep bow.

“Thank you very much for your help, miss,” I turn my head to the pegasus, “And you too, sir.”

“No problem,” says the mare, “Just be more careful, especially if the little ones can’t swim well.”

“Who cares? Bugs can always hatch twenty more,” someone snickers in the back.

One’s head snaps in the direction of the speaker who would normally be hidden in the crowd, but with her height, One can see the unicorn clearly. She only shifts her weight to the tip of her hoof, and the flagstone cracks under her foreleg.

“Let it go, One,” I breathe out, “This was our fault. And factually what he said was correct.”

“That pony wasn’t saying that from objective standpoint. It’s some bug hating hornhead.”

“You think I don’t know that? But what does it matter? We can’t just beat him senseless in the middle of the crowd as much as we’d both want to. Let’s be happy that other ponies helped. Damn, my heart is still pounding.”

One breathes out.

“You’re right, honey.”

Eleven’s bodies are all glaring at the pool, as if daring the water to jump out and try to hurt them again.

Three pokes the nearest drenched one, and says:

“I… forgot to tell you that you need to fill the holes in your legs,” he puts his forelegs up, shapeshifts them to remake his ‘cupholders’ and then makes them disappear again, “And you have to keep breathing. It helps you float. Sorry...”

Eleven pouts, raises his forelegs, and with supreme focus, the tiny holes in all his many legs disappear. All bodies wobble from sudden exhaustion, but one walks in front of me and points at my horn.

“Can I fly?”

Now it takes me some focus, because telekinesis isn’t something I use often, and I let one Eleven hover above ground. He points at the pool, and I fly him over there, not letting go as he gradually lowers his legs into the water. Very slowly, he starts splashing them around. Three hops inside again, but one colt is faster, and paddles over to Eleven.

“You gotta move your legs like this,” he swims around Eleven who stops moving, relying on my hold, and only watches. He nods after a moment, and the body sitting next to me says:

“Let go, boss.”

I do so, and the Eleven in the water, furiously holding his breath to stay afloat, starts moving.

“You need to breathe,” says Three, standing next to Eleven. This is advanced control, because even I don’t understand much how Eleven’s mind works, but the little guy is a quick learner in a pinch, and soon he’s flapping around alongside Three and other foals. He doesn’t dare try with more bodies at once yet, but he’s happy enough, and now that there’s no immediate threat, neither am I.

One colt has crawled out of the pool, and approaches Eleven sitting outside.

“Wanna go play hide and seek?”

“What’s that?” Eleven answers while his swimming body gets out of the pool.

“A game, we’ll show you,” the colt trots over to a group of others. Eleven looks at me, and when I nod he follows them.

“Three, keep an eye on him, will you? No drowning this time,” I pat Three’s strangely still fluffy pink, wet afro.

Finally letting out a sigh of relief, I nuzzle One’s neck, and look ahead at the shops.

“How about we cool down with some ice cream, hmm?”

“Don’t you want to keep an eye on Three?” she asks.

“Look, I trust him. He might have made an almost fatal mistake, but in his case that only makes me more certain he won’t do it again. He’s not one to get overconfident and complacent. Plus, Eleven needs to learn on his own too. I’ll protect them when I can, but I’m not going to raze every obstacle in their way.”

“That’s Comfort’s approach,” comments One.

“And your, really,” I add, “We all need to make mistakes to learn from them.”

One ponders that for a moment, then she smiles.

“Ice cream?”

“Yep.”

”I AM CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGED TO TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN BUY A CLOTHES-THING LIKE THIS DOWN NEAR THE TRAIN STATION!” Cryo’s happy voice ruptures the eardrums of nearest ponies.

“That’s a sundress,” Two corrects her.

”I AM CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGED TO TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN BUY A CLOTHES-THING LIKE THIS DOWN NEAR THE SUNDRESS!” Cryo corrects herself.

Two shrugs, and waves the board with Blue Skies’ shop address above her head.

“They’ll figure the message out eventually- whoah!” she grabs onto Cryo as the queen leans down to a public fountain, and with the noise of a partially stuck industrial pump starts drinking.

“Everything is blurry now,” she says when she pulls her head out of the water. Two takes Cryo’s sunglasses off, making the queen frown and shield her eyes with her hoof, “Brown and blurry was better.”

“They’ll dry out in a moment,” she puts them back on Cryo’s head, “Though you know what? That’s not a bad idea at all,” Two jump straight into the fountain, and walks under the water trickling from the horn of the unicorn statue serving as the central ornament. The cold water certainly helps a ton in this weather, “That’s a whole lot of ponies… and non-ponies,” she lay her eyes on a red, scaly creature with long neck, sharp teeth, and claws on its legs of Cryo’s size with large, leathery wings. A quick connection to One identifies it as a very young dragon. She heard of those from the dwarves, but much bigger and deadlier ones. No one is eating anyone, though, which counts for a lot.

“Two, this walking loaf of beard is courting me. How do I diplomatically cocoon it?” Two hears Cryo’s confused voice, and when she turns around she sees a creature she’s never seen before. Strangely enough, loaf of beard is a surprisingly accurate description. It’s somewhat bigger than an adult pony but with long brown hair all over covering most of its shape. There’s a muzzle sticking from the front otherwise barely distinguishable from the back, and it has horns like a minotaur above it.

“Bugpony look strong!,” it grunts. Cryo leans down to it, sniffs it, and scrunches her nose.

“What are you? How do you not melt in this heat?”

“Yak strong. Yak from north, but heat not defeat yak!” says the… yak?

“Look, little beard, it’s neighbor beard!” Cryo points at the yak and turns to Two.

“Literally,” Two splashes over.

“This not beard, this fur,” explains the yak, “Beard underneath.”

“That’s just her tick, ignore it,” Two waves her hoof.

“Yak got ticks too!”

“Color me surprised,” says Two flatly, “How can we help you, mister yak?”

“Yak want nothing. Yak only say big bugpony pretty! Huge assets,” the yak smiles, waves, and wanders off.

“What does banking have to do with courting?” asks Cryo.

“A lot, actually,” Two hops on Cryo’s back again, “Topaz told me he had a gold digger marefriend once. Great body, but a horrible leech.”

“All dwarves are gold diggers,” answers Cryo, “Wait no, gems and iron too.”

“You’re right,” Two chuckles to herself, lies down on Cryo’s back, and lowers her eyeshade over her eyes, “Let’s head on again. Boss hasn’t called yet, so we’ve got time.”

“Aww, I liked beard loaf. Tasty snack.”

Huh, Cryo does feel a little fuller.

“Hey! You’re really good at this,” an orange colt crawls from behind an apple stand as Eleven peeks under the counter accompanied by laughter of the owner, “That’s three times in a row.”

Eleven beams and leads the colt to other five already gathered foals.

“I bet you can’t do it four times in a row!” a green filly pokes Eleven’s chest.

“I can!” pouts Eleven.

“Hey, Three. You up for some trip down memory lane?” I ask.

“Is that here in Canterlot?” Three looks at the house numbers around, confused.

“No, I mean if you want to see someplace familiar. One and I are on the way.”

“Sure, boss. We’ll catch up with you,” answers Three.

“Come on, Eleven,” Three pats Eleven’s head, “Let’s see what the boss is all about,” and when they’re out of earshot, he leans down to Eleven’s head, “They might eventually figure out you’re cheating.”

“I wasn’t cheating!” objects Eleven, “Rules said nothing about me.”

He beams, and other ten bodies drop their invisible disguises which they used to spy on the hiding foals during the game of hide and seek.

I laugh to myself as well, and turn my attention back to One hoof wrestling a random dragon off of the street. To her it’s more a measure of love needed rather than a real contest, and soon the dragon’s foreleg touches the table hastily provided by the owner of the ice cream parlor, much to the dragon’s bulging eyes.

“Wha- whuh- how?” the dragon about twice One’s size chokes out.

“You’re pretty strong,” she pats his chest with a smile, “Well done.”

She looks around at gawking ponies holding ice cream cones. Few quickly chomp their cones down, and start stomping the ground in awe.

“Thank you, thank you,” One bows, “Huh?” she turns around as the store owner pats her shoulder, and gives her a small tub of multicolored ice cream, “Oh, thank you!”

“You drew quite the spectacle,” I comment, “That guy must have sold out half of his shop.”

“I’ve got an idea, honey. How about I smear it all over myself and you lick it off?”

“That would be a fun spectacle, but ponies might object in the same way they did when we tried it in Brauheim. Public indecency my ass.”

“Technically, MY ass,” she smirks.

“Can’t argue with that,” I admit, “Anyway, Three and Eleven will be with us soon. We should go. There’s still a whole half of the city to see.”

With One leaning lightly against me, we head through the less prominent streets to a certain place from my… almost seven years old map of the city.

Wow, has it been that long? Well, hibernating for five of those certainly made it shorter, but even the past two years in Brauheim just flew by.

When Three and Eleven finally catch up with us, we’re already at our destination, although it certainly does look different than last time.

“The Grand Plan Orphanage,” One reads the writing above the door, “They made… and orphanage out of it?”

“Oh hey, that’s where we lived in Canterlot, isn’t it?” Three beams, “Orphanage? That’s awesome! They’re like you, boss.”

“Huh?” I stop looking at the previously deserted house of our time, and turn my head towards Three, “What do you mean?”

“Well, we were all lost and alone at some point, but you got us together and we’re all happy,” he hugs my foreleg, and I blink away the first hint of tears.

No one says anything for some time, not even Eleven who can’t really recognize the meaning of this place.

“It’s been so long...” One mumbles eventually.

It’s clear why we’re here in Canterlot. This house is a reminder of everything that mustn’t happen again - changeling failures, pony hatred, griffon-pony wars, and greed of the power-hungry tearing the lands apart.

The corner of my mouth curls up, although my eyes are still wet. It’s been a very long trip since we left Badlands.

“Now it’s my job to make sure nothing like that happens again. Arriving late wouldn’t be a good start, and we still want to see the upper city.”

“Wait, there’s something written here too,” Three trots over to a rather large plaque by the door, “We might not always see the big picture. Things might seem scary at times. Friends might look like enemies, and enemies may pretend to be friends. However, as long as we don’t give up, there is light. Dedicated to the events of Zebrican invasion, and to the alicorn of Hope.”

“Huh, I wish Gem was in range. She would know what this means,” I comment. She did talk about the invasion of zebras and undead several years ago, but all I know is that supposedly everyone involved was played by the unicorn minotaurs consider their Dark Prophet. Don’t know anything about any alicorns, though. Oh well, “Anyway, let’s go. Upper Canterlot awaits, and imagine what’s there to see if the lower city is this lively.”

As it turns out, way less than one would expect.

I admit, it was fun taking the official route between the two cities for the first time - the wide and well-kept road winding up and around the mountain to upper Canterlot. The view was breathtaking, there were food stands and performers around serving to make the trip of the thick queue of carts and visitors more bearable, and in the end we crossed the train tracks Gem must have taken on her ride up. All in all, a lot more interesting than our previously used route - the sewers, although a lot longer, taking over an hour of casual walking.

And now we’re up here, this time all of us in white to combat the sun bearing down on us. Again, I mean. First time for me, I mean. Eh, shared memories make things confusing. One and Gem were up here few times during our original visit, Comfort obviously knows this place well since we have a still rather accurate map of the upper city in our hive mind from the time of the invasion despite her not being here now.

Still, it doesn’t take anything away from the sight. Beautiful, clean white buildings decorated with gems and gold everywhere around. Narrower streets still hosting many stands and street performers. Store owners inviting visitors from species I can barely recognize, and even an untransformed changeling here and there. It’s no Crystal Empire in its hospitality, but it does feel warm despite the occasional freaked out glance at me, One, and mostly Cryo in her rather fetching outfit… in a weird, unfitting way.

Two’s eyes are open wide as she’s turning her head from side to side while riding in the front on uncharacteristically smiling Cryo. One’s not looking around directly, but I feel her being tapped inside everyone’s eyes through me while she’s just walking by my side with a content smile, her ears flicking and turning. Three seems to have taken to flying, which he hasn’t been doing much underground, and is hovering above us with the occasional break on my back. Eleven is walking in a tight group behind me and One, all jaws dropped.

“Anyone hungry?” I ask, coming to a sudden realization. Our love levels are more than fine, but the mingling of ponies and various species around is rousing my desire to taste the emotions, “Or peckish really.”

“No. Ponies like me for some reason,” muses Cryo.

“...I wonder why...” whispers One into my ear while nodding to the wet globes of Cryo’s ass ahead.

“...she does look good in that, though...” I reply.

“...you like ‘em big and strong...” she chuckles.

“...I sure do...” I nuzzle her neck.

“Nom nom nom...” Cryo smacks her lips, sensing our love behind her.

“I’m good on the old love side,” reports Three, our own little ball of edible energy.

“You know...” Two says in thought, “While I’m not hungry, I am curious if this place supposedly full of magic has something interesting to offer. Dwarf brothels were sort of boring, Crystal Empire ones were neat, so I wonder how a high-class place here would taste.”

I toss her the pouch with bits from Gem. It’s not as if we would need it at this point, it seems. Most of the attractions have been free for foals, which did include Eleven and Three, our most interested members, and we didn’t have much use for food other than ice cream to cool down.

“Sure, go for it. Do you know where one is?” I ask. Two quickly scans Comfort’s map of the city.

“There is one nearby. Not completely high-class, but certainly a reputable establishment. I’ll check it out,” she jumps off of Cryo’s back and rushes into a side alley, “Keep an eye on miss wet T-shirt here, will you?”

Makes sense Comfort would know a place like that in detail. I have to ask if she worked there while preparing the invasion.

Cryo turns her head around when Two is gone, and says:

“Don’t worry, boss. I won’t cause any trouble,” she glances upwards, “In fact, I think I’ll find some shady spot and wait for little beard there.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. Despite Cryo’s peaceful and rather warm attitude, I do sense a hint of melancholy from her.

“I am,” she nods and walks off in the direction where Two left.

We walk around for a while, but I can’t help feeling something is off, and I barely acknowledge the attractions in our way.

“What’s bothering you?” asks One.

“Cryo felt… sad. Only a bit though.”

“Hugs must be administered!” Three punches the air, and Eleven beams in preparation for full body swarming. Cryo is the only who can get hugged by all his bodies at once, and he appreciates that.

It’s the little things in life.

“Maybe she remembered something,” ponders One, “I mean, the old conquest did end here in upper Canterlot when changelings couldn’t break through the castle defenses.”

We both remember only fragmented remains of the rulers’ memories, mostly only why things happened and not what exactly did happen. Carefully, I peek out of Cryo’s eyes to see where she is.

The huge queen is sitting behind a dumpster in a shady alley. Not sad, not contemplating anything, just… waiting. Come to think of it, ever since she joined us in Brauheim, she’s been spending time mostly with Two.

“I agree with Three,” I make an executive decision, “Onwards to huggery!”

Our little procession makes sitting Cryo look up quizzically, and I sense her puzzled surprise as Eleven jumps all over her, hugging everywhere he can reach. Three floats behind her, and hugs the back of her neck.

“Bad memories?” I ask, “I’m the boss right now, so you can’t get away with lying that easily,” I smile and wink at her.

“No memories,” she shakes her head, “Only… feelings. Everyone is so happy. It feeds me, it cheers me up, but to me… this place is a… a grinder,” she sighs, “It just hit me out of nowhere. I’m not about to try to refight the old wars, if you’re worried about that.”

Patting her foreleg, I slowly breathe out.

“No, I’m not. It just, I think that at this point I’m sort of attuned to something bothering my changelings, and I immediately want to sort it out. We suffered for long enough, and we deserve peace… or peace of mind in your case.”

“In my time, your underlings would eat you alive,” she chuckles and changes the subject, “Anyway, how’s little beard doing? I’m curious how Canterlot magical whorses taste.”

Together, we all look out of Two’s eyes.

She enters a rather dim and quiet hall decorated with wine-red carpet, wood paneling halfway up the walls, and electric lights disguised as torches scattered evenly on the walls.

“How can Ai help yoo, mees?” asks a cheery voice from a booth in an alcove to the right. Two blinks, taking a second to decipher the fumbled message, and looks at the speaker, a grey earthp- unicorn with most of his horn missing and the stub neatly filed down who is giving her a dizzy albeit genuinely friendly smile.

There is a sense of unease around him, but to Two it doesn’t seem as if she’s the cause. In fact, she can smell a changeling on him, although he clearly either isn’t one or is such a good infiltrator that he can hide his identity from her. Considering how much time she’s spent with Comfort, that’s extremely unlikely.

“This is a brothel, right?” Two walks over to the counter.

“Yes, mees,” the crippled unicorn nods, and reaches for a thick binder on his desk, “Wee have all yoo mite want, even for a sh- ch- shen-jee-link,” he stutters out.

“Wow, neat!” Two beams at the nervous receptionist, and puts the pouch with bits on the desk, “I’d like someone or something with tentacles, and two knotted dongs. No, make it a dragon. A big one.”

“Eeeeeeh...” the receptionist starts flipping the pages of his binder furiously, “Ai… Ai dont theenk we… meybe… no. Ai… Ai dont know,” his quietens down into mumbling which coupled with his fumbled speech Two can barely recognize, “Aim soree its taking so long… Ai normally just kleen d place… Rose is upstairs wit a customer coz wee ar busy wit all d veeseetors,” he reaches the end of the binder, obviously not finding something Two wanted, and starts visibly shaking, “Ai… meybe… if wee call my shen-jee-link frend for d tentickles, end Fleck is a diamond dog but shee is a shee, so no notty stuff. But wee hev dees fake strap-on thingies end shee can wear too of dose dragin ones. Ees dat okey wit yoo?”

His hopeful and scared stare locks on her as his impeded talking stops. Two takes a moment to decipher his message, which doesn’t seem to bother him at the slightest. He’s likely used to it.

“Umm, sure?” Two nods to the bits on the counter, “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Greyscale, mees,” the unicorn takes the pouch and starts counting while flipping the pages again, “But Aim not a worker heer. I mean I am but Ai just kleen d place. Wait, Ai alredy said dat. Soree,” he counts the money much faster than Two would expect, probably faster than she could, making her think that he’s just a very nervous pony with a speech impediment, not someone wrong in the head, “Umm, mees? Yor sixty-seven bits short.”

“Oh,” Two pouts. Settling for some normal unicorn whorse, albeit possibly a high-class one, would be underwhelming to say the least, “Nevermind then. I wasn’t sure about the prices in the big city,” she says politely.

Unfortunately, that serves to unnerve Greyscale even further.

“Ai, wait! Meybe wee ken work someting out,” he looks around, “Ai ken ask the lady if wee take inst-all-mence,” he peeks into the hall and to the right where there are stairs leading up in the distance, “Ai bought mai new heeter last winter like dat. No reeson to lose a customer-”

Two comes to her own executive decision, and jumps over the counter, landing with her forelegs around Greyscale’s neck.

“Aim not huggabl, mees!” contrary to his words, the unicorn stands stock still.

“On the contrary,” Two sinks her fangs into Greyscale’s neck, and stays like that until her venom makes him stop shaking and calm down. When his eyes glaze over, she whispers, “I wasn’t here. Have a nice and pleasant day,” after a quick thought, she adds, “and don’t worry so much.”

As dizzy Greyscale starts humming a happy tune, Two buzzes out of the booth, and quietly leaves the brothel.

“I apologize, boss,” she says via her link as she starts heading our way, “We don’t have enough money for anything interesting, and trying to force your order would do more harm than good.”

“Alright,” I reply, aware of what transpired and agreeing with her in every respect.

“Little beard would get shaved for this in my time,” comments Cryo as Two is landing in our alley, “I’m glad this isn’t my time anymore.”

“Shaved?” Two snickers.

Cryo just grins at her, and stands up.

“There is someplace I’d like to visit, though,” says Two, “The city walls - the view must be amazing.”

Come to think of it, while she did visit Rift and Crystal Empire, there wasn’t much to see from anywhere with a view.

“Hey, everyone!” I hear Gem’s voice in my head, ”I’ve set everything up in the castle. You don’t have to rush, but it would be a good idea to arrive in time for a tour.”

“Sure thing. We’ll start heading there,” I reply. To Two, I say out loud, “We’ll take it slow. You can go check out the city walls. We don’t know how much free time we’re going to have during the summit.”

“Thanks, dad,” she hops on Cryo’s back, and the two are quickly gone.

I turn to One.

“You know, I was trying to put it off as long as I could, but I guess it’s time to face the music, and by music I mean two alicorns you beat the everliving goo out of.”

“Huh, I wonder if I could do some permanent damage now. It was irritating to make them look as if they got a massage from a trash compactor only to have them heal few seconds later,” ponders One with a smirk, “You know, personal growth and all.”

“Please don’t greet any of the princesses with ‘Hi, remember how I broke your legs and stuffed them into your nostrils?’.”

“There’s a conversation ice breaker if ever I heard one,” One snorts as we’re once again walking on the crowded main streets, “And didn’t you do something to them too?”

“If we don’t count shitting myself so hard that some must have splashed her way, I can’t recall. Besides, I was Three’s size at the time. The best I could do would be poking her shin.”

“Heh, if Ten was here, he’s prefer poking that booty.”

“Quite honestly, who wouldn’t?” I mumble.

“Speaking of which,” One gives me a devious grin, “My ass or Celestia’s?”

“Ummm… my memory is a bit foggy,” I try to ignore Ten’s memories of him not entirely on accident becoming Celestia’s pillow, “I don’t think I can render a fair judgement regarding all the ways yours is better than hers- stop laughing, I know you’re in my head!”

“Yep, and it’s hella fun watching you worm your way out of this one,” One bumps her hips against me, “Pretty smooth attempt, though. Good job.”

“Thanks.”

It’s kinda hard to lie to someone who knows exactly what you think.

“It damn well is,” she comments, “Besides, the things I would like to do to her ass would be considered crimes against equinity in most of the world. I mean, just from the looks alone, Chrysalis and Comfort look great, but Sunbutt… holes damn!” she shivers as her imagination takes her to the land of lusty an happy.

“Thank you for that image,” I roll my eyes, “That’s exactly what I want on my mind when I meet her.”

“You worry too much,” she playfully punches my shoulder.

“That’s why I’m still alive and in this position,” I counter.

“Speaking of positions, us, Ten, Celestia three-and-a-half-some.”

“Screw you, honey...” I mutter.

“Already did that, but that alabaster plush-”

“Stoooooooooop...” groaning, I turn my attention to figuring out how to shapeshift my ears off without One knowing.

“Now this was worth it,” Two breathes out, standing on the crenellations of the upper Canterlot city walls. Cryo is standing next to her, and despite the boosting effect of the masonry for Two, her horn is still over Two’s head.

The ancient queen is looking down on Equestria, its forests, plains, fields, villages and small settlements occasionally dotting the landscape. Everything is lush with greenery or… vegetablery, which is the only word she can come up with. Changelings like her don’t know much about pony food.

Everything is so much alive...

Two blinks.

...and then it’s all gone, dead and burning.

Author's Notes:

Alright, I think I've figured the format out. As good as the giga-sized chapters are, I enjoy reading and replying comments way too much to do that only once a month

4: Diplo-thingy

The brutalized land trembles under the stomping hooves of the changelings.

From the walls of upper Canterlot, Two can see spires of green goo of purpose unknown to her rising from the landscape. In the further distance, there are clouds of smoke hanging in the sky from vast stretches of burning land and the charred skeletons of villages. Hundreds of thousands of changelings are walking in ranks, completely silent to the outside world, but Two can sense echoes of orders streaming through a hive mind million times more expansive than anything she’s familiar with, the tsunami of voices almost strong enough to rob her of all individuality and make her a mindless thrall to the commands.

A golden flash lights the smoldering grassland far down, as a small group of either extremely brave or downright suicidal ponies flank a square formation of marching changelings from a secret route inside the mountain. The shockwave from the explosion scatters tens of changelings around and incinerates the closest ones, but even a magical attack like that is like spitting against a forest fire. Many more bursts of light and flame follow, burning changeling after changeling as the ranks of the seemingly infinite black army close around the pony group and swallow them. Two hears the hive mind report - nearly two hundred dead changelings, but a successful capture of three unicorn stallions, one earthpony stallion, one unicorn mare, and one earthpony mare. Strong ones, all of them. They will serve to breed and feed far more changelings than they killed. Soon, the nearest drones are dragging a set of cocoons towards the green spires.

“How?” asks Two, her mental voice unheard. She turns her head to look away from the sight of marching changeling armies making her weak at the knees, but she finds no respite.

She’s still on the walls of upper Canterlot. The city behind her, however, is as far from any festival as one can imagine… other than endless changeling feast.

A spire made of green goo and remnants of crumbling masonry like those far down towers over the nearby streets, and this close Two can see its intricate structure of ledges allowing for movement between ponies set in its walls, bloated with eggs or with genitals sticking out for a quick refill of lust by any needy changeling. As a mare on the second level screams, flow of eggs easily slips out of her and into a gathering indentation underneath, signalling that she’s been through mass birth many times before. A changeling breeder with massive equipment flies over immediately, and as a drone gathers the eggs, he starts pumping a new batch into the mare who only whimpers, her glassy eyes unblinking and unseeing. She’s only one of many. Only moments later, the eggs hatch, and instead of larvae, there are changeling warriors already crawling out of those, unsteady at first but soon ready to fight with bloodthirsty single-mindedness.

Two, or what’s left of her in the sea of hungry voices, senses the minds of the fresh batch of changelings… or what constitutes a changeling only by the barest definition. Those aren’t minds by any measure she knows, only sets of instructions - fight, capture, spread. No individuality, no advanced intelligence, only… only… they are only tools. Tools, empty bodies to storm the walls of the last bastion of ponykind, the perfect way to make warriors without wasting love on developing their brains.

“Like Three and dad were supposed to be…”

With those whispered words, there is no Two anymore, only information flowing from all sides. The fresh braindead batch of warriors flies eastward to crumbling walls separating the Canterlot castle proper from the rest of the city. There are changelings massing on the stomped lawns covered in shattered chitin, crunching and devouring the dead and dying for any remnant of love in their physical bodies. Without thinking, literally, the newborn warriors from all birthing spires around the city storm the castle walls, and hit an invisible barrier which grinds them into dust. Few of the accidentally more developed ones can feel fear, and as they turn to flee, bolts of fire, lighting, and colored lights from various slots in the castle walls deliver swift and painful death to every single one of them.

The united ranks standing on the castle lawns but still out of range of the pony defenders shift nervously. Not exactly from the death of the fresh wave, that’s a common sight these days, more from a single tall female changeling with teal mane and wearing a green plate armor standing in front of them.

She looks down at the male infiltrator by her side, her second-in-command, and snarls.

“They sealed all entrances, your Majesty. We’ve managed to track-urk?!” the infiltrator levitates up, green glow around his neck crushing his chitin.

The queen opens her mouth, and rips all energy at once from the hive’s number One, making the infiltrator scream in agony. She throws him towards the castle, and growls:

“Go. Show them how it’s done.”

“But your Majesty-” his mouth closes on its own, biting his tongue off. His mind takes a back seat to the queen’s control, and his legs make him stride towards the castle, maw bleeding but head raised.

Even with most of his power drained by the queen, he still deflects a bolt of lightning coming from the walls, and manages to get to the barrier. As he jams his horn into it, the slow grinding begins. Queen’s control doesn’t let him scream until most of his skull is gone and his body keeps being sucked further in towards the grinding magic.

With a bloodthirsty grin, the queen turns to the lined up changelings led by who are supposed to be her best, her generals, potential queens…

...FAILURES, ALL OF THEM!

“Figure something out, or you’re next!” she barks at them, and leaves. The changelings let out a collective sigh of relief as they turns their heads to their respective generals.

A light blue-maned warrior, humongous even for a changeling, exchanges glances with a green, much smaller infiltrator with long fangs protruding from her mouth when the queen is out of earshot. The blue one is Cryo, her carapace scarred and mane charred in places. However, her expression isn’t the usual slightly dazed one, but the sharp, serious face of someone who has seen the future and didn’t like it one bit.

“Is it time?” asks Moss, not daring to communicate via hive mind in fear of the conversation being tracked, “Chrysalis looked more pissed off than she usually is.”

“Yes, it’s time, unless you want to end up like One. That’s what happens when an infiltrator wants to lead a war on her own,” says Cryo, making Moss hiss angrily at her, “Oh shut up, I don’t tell you how to do infiltrating either, so Chrysalis should have let a real warrior lead the war effort. Vulcan is with us, and all other generals are on a… similar wavelength.”

“What do you mean by similar?”

“They want to leave too, but I doubt they will be… peaceful about it. My infiltrators say they will want to escape with as much resources as they can, which means they will devour anyone weaker and vulnerable on the way.”

“Do you want to... cooperate during the escape?” offers Moss, “It would make getting away easier.”

“There can be only one queen in a hive,” Cryo shakes her head, “Not worrying about being attacked by your or Vulcan’s hives is more than enough.”

“And Chrysalis?”

“That idiot will draw forces from all over Equestria to stop us, which Celestia will use to regain control of Canterlot,” Cryo shakes her head, “We could have taken the castle, but Chrysalis fucked everything up...”

“What happened?” Moss tilts her head, “I was busy chasing survivors in the White Tail woods when the order to gather everyone in Canterlot arrived.”

“All we had to do was group up, siege the castle, and tire them out. It could take months, but it would have worked. Chrysalis, though, thought that because we took Canterlot, the castle would follow soon, and she broke the alliance with the zebras prematurely. Since we lost so many changelings already, she had to pull forces from Zebrica, and a pretty pissed off striped army is landing in the south. All we needed was time, and that’s the only thing we don’t have thanks to her. That’s why she’s resorting to her new… invention. Creating these pseudo-changelings… mindless abominations. Fucking monster.”

Moss facehoofs, and Cryo grins without any joy in it.

“That’s not all,” the warrior queen continues, “News from the east is that the griffons did what we never thought they were capable of - they united and switched from guerilla warfare to open march on our outposts. Shadowstep’s campaign has been defeated, and the last information I have is that they chased her into the northern deserts and starved her to death. Without that traditional loyalist, Chrysalis is alone, and griffons are coming with their cannons, bombs, and technology. We’ve united the world against us, and if we want to survive we need to hide.”

“It’s all breaking down...” Moss breathes out, “Where do you intend to go?”

Cryo shrugs.

“Probably the north, you know, Cryo and all. I’m not going to tell you more for obvious reasons, and I’m not going to ask you either. Maybe we’ll meet again in better times for us changelings, maybe not.”

Without another word, Cryo leaves and seeks out her One, the number Sixty-eight of the whole changeling empire. Contrary to the warrior queen, her best subordinate is a male infiltrator. Cryo is fully aware of the value of varied skill set.

“Gather at most five hundred of my best, warriors, infiltrators, drones,” orders the sapphire queen, “We’re leaving. No hive mind communication, word of mouth only. If we get found out too early, we’re all dead.”

“Don’t take it as insubordination, my queen, but why not assemble everyone and fight our way out?” he asks.

“Moss and Vulcan will take everyone, and so will other generals. Such mass exodus will immediately draw Chrysalis’ attention, and she’ll seek to make an example of them instead of focusing on the ponies. If she finds out most of my hive is still in Canterlot, she’ll think we’re either dealing with the rebels or that we are far too small group to bother with,” Cryo raises her foreleg, “Yes, I know this means sending thousands of my changelings to their deaths. Do it.”

One nods, and gallops off.

Several hours later, Cryo’s hive is galloping west, the eyes of her rear guard locked on Canterlot mountain slowly getting smaller. Chrysalis’ orders ring through the hive mind, and infinite pain of tens of thousands of changelings slaughtering each other is making even her best warriors weak.

Suddenly, Chrysalis’ voice enhanced by magic booms through the land:

“I WILL DESTROY YOU, TRAITORS! I WILL DEVOUR YOUR MINDS AND FLAY YOUR CARAPACES PIECE BY PIECE! NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES!”

“Yep, scream that for the whole wide world to hear, Chrysalis,” Cryo smirks, “Especially to the pissed off alicorn in the castle waiting for any sign of your weakness. Infiltrators, seriously...”

Two gazes from the city walls, tears streaming from her eyes at the massacre all around her. Finally, it all becomes too much. Her knees buckle, and she keels over into the depth.

“Careful, little beard,” a huge foreleg catches her before she can drop down a whole mountain.

“Whuh- wha- why…?” Two breathes out, “You remembered something!”

“Huh?” Cryo tilts her head, “Oh yes, I did! We were told to go to the castle.”

“No, I mean… I mean… changelings all over Canterlot, fighting each other. You and other queens left furious Chrysalis here alone,” she tries to make sense of the vision.

Cryo blinks.

“My head itches...”

Two, legs still shaking, flies onto Cryo’s back, adjusts the queen’s hat, and scratches her head under the tight rim. Cryo’s tongue lolls out.

“Better?” Two forces a smile. It was the past, it must have been. Equestria is different now, changelings are welcome… or at least tolerated…

...but Chrysalis is still the queen.

I will destroy you no matter how long it takes!

Kinda puts the ‘bad mom’ as Three calls her into perspective. Two grits her teeth, her stomach swimming.

“BOSS, IT’S MINI-STOMPY!” Three immediately flies off so fast that he actually makes One blink.

Two and Cryo caught up to us some ten minutes ago, and now we’re about to enter the castle grounds separated by a wall from the rest of the city. By the sides of the only entrance, an open gilded gate, stand not only a pair of Royal Guards, but also a trio of Gem, a brown earthpony mare with darker brown mane, and a pony made of delicate metalwork, two bright blue circles in his otherwise pitch black eyes locked on Three buzzing around and poking him.

“Do you have lasers?” Three’s smiling from ear to ear, “Flamethrowers? Big buzzing energy shields? Are you a real pony in a metal body, or a full mechanical pony? Is your name Stompy junior- wait no, you’re small so you wouldn’t be so loud so… Clanky, Scratchy, Clippy-Cloppy?”

The chocolate mare next to the machine pony is doing her best not to burst out laughing at Three’s curiosity.

“My name is Bucket,” answers the machine in a slightly distorted voice, “Your curiosity regarding technology is rather unusual for a changeling.”

“Three, cool down a little. Ponies might get curious who Stompy is, and we’re not supposed to talk about the dwarves, remember?” I warn him.

“Oops. Sorry, boss.”

“My friend Six loves gadgets,” Three lands in front of Bucket, “He’d be ecstatic to see someone like you. Or something? How do I some- you?”

“I prefer someone,” Bucket smiles. His metalwork is incredibly more delicate than Stompy’s, so he likely isn’t a war tank or something, rather the imitation of a pony. However, the question regarding where ponies got a design like him comes to mind. Still, it’s not our priority to know.

“Ahem,” Gem clears her throat, “Dawn, Bucket, this is my father,” she points her hoof at me.

“Greetings, your Majesty,” the mare… Dawn takes a deep bow, and so does the robot. He’s really as flexible as a pony from what I can see.

“Who? Me?” I lean away. One smacks the back of my head, “Oh right, right. Sorry, I’m not used to titles, really. Everyone just calls me boss.”

“I’d prefer your Majesty,” Dawn chuckles, rising back up, “If I called you boss in front of anypony in charge, I’d get fired immediately… probably from a cannon into the sun.”

“We are here to show you to your rooms,” Bucket goes straight to business, “We will also answer any questions you might have.”

We really don’t need a tour of the castle, considering Gem knows her way around the public areas of the place, and we simply copy the map from her head.

“Let’s head off to where we’ll be sleeping first. Lead the way,” I nod at Bucket who turns around and goes through the gate.

The Canterlot castle gate is connected to this gateway via a paved white road, and there are lawns everywhere else. On the right lawn there are Royal Guards currently engaged in what looks like sparring and physical exercises, and the left lawn seems to be more on the decorative side since I can see a wall of greenery slightly taller than Cryo with an entrance in its center.

“Boss...” Three pokes me, “Boss, boss, boss, boss...”

“Shush, Three, I know.”

“Mind if I ask where you come from, Bucket?” I say out loud, “I mean, who built you?”

“Princess Twilight Sparkle built me as her… personal assistant-”

“A clopbot,” mutters Dawn, which makes One snort immediately, and Eleven runs by, taking a good look at Bucket’s underbelly. There doesn’t seem to be anything between his hind legs, though.

Bucket glances at the small changelings swarming around him.

“I don’t wear such equipment in public unless asked,” explains Bucket, “It serves no purpose.”

“Makes sense,” I shrug.

“Anyway,” Bucket continues, “Twilight Sparkle built me based on certain currently classified designs as her… intimate personal assistant, although I’ve been used that way by her very rarely. As for your little changeling’s question, I’m not a pony in a mechanical body, I am an artificial intelligence learning about the world.”

Classified designs… some unearthed dwarven technology? Granite did say that their ancestors had outposts and cities all under the world before the great war.

“Ponyficial,” adds Dawn. Bucket sighs, which comes out as a soft, distorted buzz.

“Princess Twilight insists on calling me a ponyficial intelligence as a symbol that she came up with it,” says the robot, “It makes no sense.”

We enter the castle, and I look around. The castle is white, mostly, with red carpeting on the floor. Various flowers hang overhead in gold-foiled metal pots, the load-bearing columns are built into the walls, showing only as rounder, evenly distributed vertical lines. Door frames are reinforced, and if the building material are granite slabs which it feels like-

I stop my drone instincts from taking over. For now, I don’t need to know the exact density of every single part of every single wall.

Anyway, the castle is certainly busy, with servants rushing around, guards patrolling the hallways in pairs, and various pony and non-pony guests everywhere.

The stained glass windows are pretty, although they show views and ponies I don’t recognize whatsoever.

Wait, no, I spoke too soon. There’s one with a bunch of changelings exploding out of the castle windows along with a rather good likeness of Chrysalis screaming in horror and flailing her legs. I snicker, which makes Bucket turn his head instantly.

“The end of the invasion of Canterlot,” he says, “I… don’t know how you feel about it, but if it bothers you, we can have the window covered for the duration of the summit, maybe?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I can’t stop grinning, “In fact, can I get a poster of Chrysalis’ face from that one?”

“Who else is attending the summit?” asks One in a raised voice, trying to slip on her diplomatic horseshoes.

“Oh come on, it would look hilarious on Five’s practice targets back home.”

“I can’t argue with that, but they don’t need to know,” despite no one in the real world being able to hear us, she still hisses at me.

“You’ll get to meet all representatives on tomorrow’s mixer,” says Dawn, “But it’s the usual group. Prince Rutherford for the yaks, warlord Darkhorn representing the minotaurs, princesses Celestia or Luna for us, obviously, queen Novo for the hippogriffs. She’s fairly new, actually. Steward Vargaz for the Griffon Empire… I don’t know the zebra, diamond dog, or neighpon delegates,” she claps her hooves together, “And dragon lord Ember for the, well, dragons. Did I miss anyone?”

“Yes,” says Bucket without adding anything, which earns him a stink eye from Dawn.

“Smartass...” she mutters, but brightens up immediately, “Gem- I mean miss Gem said four rooms would suffice for you and your entourage, your Majesty, so here we are, although there’s quite a lot of you, to be honest. The first four guest rooms in this hall are reserved for you, and you’re next to the zebra delegates. Is there anything else we can help you with?”

“Four?” I ask.

“You and mom, Three and Eleven, Two and Cryo, one for me or just in case?” Gem points it out, “I’m pretty sure you’re all be sleeping on one big pile anyway.”

“Not exactly,” Two nudges silent Cryo looking around.

“Not now, thank you,” I nod at the duo, “I believe our lodgings will be alright like this. Although if we need anything, who do we ask?”

“Any servant or a guard, really,” replies Dawn, “They should point you in the right direction or do what you want.”

“And is there anywhere we’re not supposed to go?” Two adds her two bits to the conversation, “It’s in our nature to explore.”

“Thaaat might be a little iffy,” Dawn clicks her lips, “I’d assume it would be a bad idea to go barging into any rooms, really. Castle grounds are okay including the workshop, barracks, garden maze, and everything else, though.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Two nods, “Thank you.”

Bucket and Dawn bow again as Gem ushers me and One into the first room. It’s… frankly quite similar to our room in Brauheim - a bed for two adorned with carvings, two wardrobes, one large window, a work desk with full stationery, everything woody and goldy.

Kinda boring. No green goop in sight.

A quick check on Two and Three?

Same rooms, only with two beds instead of a single big one.

“Hey, mom, dad?” Gem sits down on the bed, putting her forelegs together, twiddling her hooves nervously, and looking at the carpet, “I called you here this early because… there’s something I’d like to do. There’s someone I want you two to meet.”

“Hmmm?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Mind meeting me outside?” she gives us a hopeful look, “The garden maze should be empty, and there’s a place where we can sit down in its center.”

“Sure, should we take someone else with us?” I ask visibly relieved Gem.

“No nonono, just the two of you,” she shakes her head, “It’s nothing important- I mean it is, but- you’ll see.”

“Okay, we’ll be there in few minutes,” I nod, and she rushes off.

“What do you think that’s about?” asks One, “Summit stuff?”

“I doubt that,” I walk over to the window, and open it, letting the warm but fresh air in, “I never thought I’d say that, but when we’re back home, I should get out more. The cold underground is great, but a change of scenery does work wonders.”

“Told you you should go hunting winter wolves with me sometimes,” One gives me a smug wink.

“Next time I’ll take that offer, but we’re not killing them.”

“Sure, I can settle for a good concussion,” she shrugs, “Anyway, we should go meet Gem.”

“Definitely,” I reach for the door handle, and then stop, “This way will be faster,” I nod to the window.

We fly outside, and after a quick flight around the castle while being cautiously observed by Royal Guard pegasi, we spot the garden maze which was the green wall I saw earlier, and land in its center. There’s a clearing there with a pond and several benches made of white marble. The tall shrubbery makes the place shady and pleasant even on this hot day.

In about ten minutes, we hear soft hoofsteps approaching through the maze. A quick mental scan reveals one of the arrivals as Gem, but she’s blocking my access to her senses, so I can’t take a look at who is with her. She’s worried, though, that much I can feel, and same goes for One who cautiously grows a hidden blade on the back of her foreleg.

Gem enters the clearing first, followed by a brown-maned, grey pegasus stallion holding his wing pressed tightly against a grey-maned changeling mare of stature similar to One wearing a silky, silvery blindfold.

I feel a soft mental prod.

“Now here’s a mind I haven’t felt in a looooong time,” the changeling grins, “The punch bug one, not the royal one. Speaking of royals, how many assassins did Chrysalis send after you? I offed three, and I’m blind, although the last one killed himself when he tried to gloat for ten minutes and I just didn’t give a fuck.”

“Well I’ll be...” One smirks, “Sixteen?”

“Half-hearted Fury, as my beloved breeder calls me these days,” she nudges the pegasus’ neck, “What rank did you manage to chew your way to in the end? Three, four?”

“Considering what I had to corpsify in the service of my penetrating paramour, about negative two hundred. Buuut, since I kicked the ass of previous One even when she ascended into a succubus, I’m One now. Both under my king, and technically under Chrysalis.”

Gem clears her throat.

“Well, I didn’t know you knew each other, but mom, dad… here are my guardians - Half-hearted Fury and Common Crest. I asked them to come from Riverside to meet you.”

“I hear you’ve done a great job taking care of my daughter in her time of need,” I stand up and shake hooves with Crest.

“Pleased to meet you, your Majesty,” says the pegasus before guiding Fury’s hoof to mine to shake.

“Same here, though I wouldn’t miss the making of Canterlot’s most prominent drug dealer for no amount of dragon dicks,” she says, “Sorry for talking to One first, but I prefer making peace with the changeling who can kick me so hard I wouldn’t need a train ticket back home to Redneckville. I would bow, but I tend to keel over.”

Crest sighs.

“Riverside, honey.”

“That’s what I said,” she shrugs.

“As quite often, it falls to me to apologize for my wife, your Majesty,” Crest sighs, “She considers causing an international diplomatic incident an interesting passtime.”

I wave my hoof dismissively, and point at the bench next to the one One is sitting on.

“I started as a drone, and got here mostly with an amount of luck that will doubtlessly get balanced at some point by few decades of something horrible,” I shrug, sitting down to One again.

“Just decades?” One snickers, “Every time you get lucky with me, it’s six months of karmic debt to pay.”

“Heh, and here I thought my wife had a sharp tongue,” Crest strokes Fury’s mane with his wing.

I can’t help laughing out loud.

“Mister Crest, I’ve got two of these. I have yet to decide whether I’m lucky or cursed.”

“Oh, who’s the lucky side-chick that gets to bang a changeling king as well as his One?” Fury’s blindfold shifts as she raises an eyebrow.

“The previous One of Chrysalis’ hive who is now a succubus,” One shoots immediately.

“Is his dick made of love, cocaine, and candy?!” Fury yells out loud, “Crest. I want to change my celebrity crush!”

“Touch him, and being blind will be the last of your problems,” One’s threat has no hostility behind it, “Get your own!”

“I have my own!” objects Fury, “But he gets tired too easily.”

“Hey, this guy took a lot of training too!” One points at me, “He started as a drone, and the first time I wanted to bang him I had to lock us both up in a cellar. He lasted all of ten seconds, not that I let him go afterwards. I’m glad I did that anyway, since, you know, Gem happened.”

“Whaaaaaat?!” Fury stands up with Crest steadying her, and follows her ears to our bench. Then she pokes me as if I wasn’t a king, “Scootch over.”

I mean…

A little respect…?

I stand up and let Fury sit next to One. Crest and I take the other bench along with happily smiling Gem between us while they keep reminiscing about how things were back in the hive.

“Dad,” Gem nudges me, “I was curious, do you think it would be possible to cure Fury’s eyes?”

“Do you know what’s wrong with them?” I ask, “I mean, I certainly can’t do it, but I could give her enough of a love boost for her to regenerate them from scratch.”

Gem frowns.

“I… think she has love aplenty,” Gem leans against Crest’s shoulder, “She just doesn’t have enough control over her body to fix it. At least that’s my guess.”

“I can have a look at her, no problem, but it would be a lot better if Comfort was here.”

“Yeah, do that,” I hear One’s approval.

“I’ll need an access to her head. I’d prefer not forcing anything.”

“Hey, Fury,” One interrupts their chat, “Let the boss into your head, will you? I’d do that myself, but I’m not too subtle. You could end up with an actual new face hole.”

“Heh, could spice up my and Crest’s sex life. What for?” she turns her head around, “I mean, no big deal, it’s just a bit dusty in there. I haven’t used hive communication since the invasion,” she taps her short horn, “Does it even still work?”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Ah?!” Fury shakes her head, “Okay, that took me by surprise.”

“Dad is talking to Fury through her changeling mind link,” Gem quietly explains what’s going on to Crest.

Fury frowns in concentration.

“Testing… testing… one, two, three...”

“Heya, Fury!” Gem joins our experiments.

“You know, why haven’t we used this before?” ponders Fury, “We could have messed with Crest SO HARD!”

“Calm down, please,” I extend my control over Fury’s body, and allow One to analyze what’s going on. A warrior would know how a warrior’s body works.

“Gimme a second...” One mumbles to herself, “I see...”

“I don’t!” laughs Fury.

“Shut up or I’ll have you grow three extra legs,” One shoots her down, “So it’s like this… she’s been blind for too long and her natural memory is of her already being blind.”

“How is helping her different from me forcing you to shapeshift?” I ask.

“If it was Comfort doing it, it wouldn’t be. You could sort of… graft my eyes on her, or yours, or Gem’s really. I don’t know whether you have enough control to do it.”

One? Let’s leave it like this so that no one can hear us.

She softly nods my way, quiet both physically and mentally.

Good. I don’t know when Comfort will be back, nor whether we’ll have time during the summit, or how long Crest and Fury can stay here before going home. Imagine the look on Gem’s face if we gave Fury her sight back.

One smiles.

I’ll take complete control of Fury. You’re me. Change your eyes.

I feel Fury’s bout of panic, but she doesn’t have enough mental power to resist me, not that she’s trying too hard anyway. Synchronizing our breathing, I take it slow until her body is mine. One shapeshifts “herself”.

As I release my control and withdraw from Fury with utmost care, I open my own eyes, only to see Fury rip off her blindfold and blink in the daylight. Her jaw drops, and so does Crest’s as he slowly realizes what happened.

“You’re not messing with me again, Fury, are you?” he breathes out.

Gem is beaming like crazy with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Chrysalis’ anatomically incorrect crotchtits, you look SO PLAIN, CREST!” she starts laughing like a madpony, “Common, my ass! The commonest.”

“Fury?” One grabs Fury’s shoulder, but the changeling shakes her hoof off and stumbles towards the pegasus. “You mustn’t shapeshift no matter what or it might come back on accident. Your memory is unstable, and those are actually my eyes-”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she mutters absent-mindedly as she grabs Crest’s face into her hooves, squishes his cheeks, and then she pulls him into a prench kiss, not closing her eyes for a second, and looking into his.

I sit down to One, and she leans against me.

“You know...” One whispers to my ear, “even if we end up pissing off every single bigwig on this summit to the point of war… it was worth coming here.”

Gem hugs Fury and Crest when they finally stop kissing.

“One hundred percent.”

Aaaaah! I’M SO NERVOUS!

To explain, it’s tomorrow, well, today. I mean…

I can barely think!

Breathe, breathe!

Okay, let’s start over.

Yesterday was awesome, what with the trip through Canterlot, and meeting Gem’s guardians. Even the guest room beds were comfortable, although we ended up using only two rooms because Three wanted to sleep with me and One, and Eleven didn’t want to sleep alone, if it’s even possible for him, so he piled on Two and Cryo who didn’t mind in the slightest. Today, though, is a new and horrifying day, because it’s the first day of the summit, and I have no idea what to do or where to even start wondering about what to do.

Thankfully, I can reach Gem’s mind from here, because she remained with Common Crest and Half-hearted Fury yesterday long after we left. As things turned out, the free room in the castle had its use after all, heh, so they didn’t have to go to a hotel in the city.

“Calm down, dad,” Gem feels me mentally poking around randomly.

“I don’t know what to dooooo!”

“Don’t worry too much. You won’t be the only first timer there, I suppose,” she chuckles, “In fact, I’m pretty sure that you have more experience debating random minutia than half of the attendance.”

Huh. I mean… maybe? Now that I’m not trembling after hearing a friendly voice, I need to remind myself that I’ve been doing this daily for the past two years, or something similar enough.

“That might be the case, but unlike in Brauheim, I doubt I can take a nap during the boring parts that don’t concern me in the slightest,” I’m still panicking, but my erratic breathing is slowing down already.

“I can buy those glasses with eyes painted on for you, if you want,” Gem laughs.

“Har har,” I pout, “When does the summit start anyway?”

“The guards will come to get you-”

“A sentence which has never ever resulted in soiled pants.”

“-Oh shush. From what I know, princess Luna actually likes us a lot, so she’ll offer a helping hoof if needed.”

“Yes, ponies whom we’ve mind-controlled at some point in time tend to sincerely mean that...”

“Come on, that’s just panic talking.”

“I know, I know...” I breathe out.

“Good. Now, the morning mixer will start in two hours. It’s a semi-formal event for the delegates to get to know each other, and since the zebras always send new representatives because of some coup or other power struggle, everyone will be trying to get to know them. Oh, and the dragons have a new ruler too, so everyone will be more interested in them than in us. We’re kinda insignificant really.”

“Thank holes.”

“The actual summit will start later in the afternoon,” she finishes.

“How do you know that much anyway?”

“I just asked Bright Star. He and Ten arrived last evening from Manehattan. There are always some paladins keeping an eye on the proceedings.”

“Panic returns in three… two… one...”

“You know, dad...” she pauses.

“Ummm yes? There’s something horrible you failed to tell me, isn’t there?”

“Dad, STOP,” her voice grows stern, “and grow a spine!”

Okay, I’m not sure what to say to that.

“We have an exoskeleton, Gem.”

“We used to be ponies, so we have both. Well, most of us do!” she says meaningfully, then realizes what just left her mouth, “Sorry, dad...”

“Am I really that bad…?” aaand the bad mood comes back, although for a completely different reason, “One?”

The long silence tells me more than anything she could say, but what she adds doesn’t help:

“Well, honey… remember when we met Chrysalis in the Crystal Empire when Three stole the Crystal Heart? You folded harder than broken deck chair.”

I growl. Do they think it was easy to avoid pissing off everyone and not repeat the fate Chrysalis brought on us?

“Good, now channel that anger into something useful,” One clearly isn’t impressed.

Say what you want. I will do it my way. If it means bending when I have to and looking weak and soft in order to make sure you can live a life Three or I never supposed to have, then so be it. Other than One, none of them would have lived more than few months at best, and even she ended dying alone in a forest, ripped to pieces by her kind.

“Honey, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then HOW did you mean it?”

“That sometimes you have to appear strong in order to avoid a war. The illusion of power can be as important as the ability to win a battle. Imagine a hypothetical war scenario. If you look strong during the summit without being arrogant and stupid then no one will attack us. If you appear weak and vulnerable, they will attack us and while we can kick ass harder than anyone, guess which scenario leaves us more at peace? I’m not saying that anyone on the summit will be unfriendly in reality, it’s just a hypothetical to make sure you get the idea.”

Gritting my teeth, I leave our guest room on my own. Three is already gone, and One is lying on her back with her eyes closed. I don’t know how I look, but considering that any castle staff quickly hug the wall as I pass by, it can’t be pretty.

“Gem, how many can I take with me to the summit?”

“There isn’t a limit, but I’d advise against taking everyone,” she replies carefully.

“And the mixer?”

“Same thing.”

“You, One, Cryo, and Two will attend the mixer with me. If we want the perception of power, then who better than a queen who kicked Chrysalis in the nuts and almost won the siege of Canterlot.”

“That might be a little too hostile-” objects Gem.

“That’s an order.”

I cut all connections to myself. Of course, it doesn’t work for One, but she gets the idea and leaves me alone as I wander through the castle, not sure where to but one hundred percent certain I want to be left alone for some time.

“Woooow, there’s a pool in this one! I wonder who it belongs to.”

Three is lazily hovering by the castle wall, checking out a particular window while trying to look as inconspicuous as his neon pink zebro allows. Obviously, this has left him with a pair of Royal Guard pegasi circling above with another one watching him from the roof. The second reason for the guard presence, however, might be eleven Elevens currently casually hanging from a ledge under said guest room window like black decorations.

The first Eleven climbs directly under the window, and then pulls himself up to peek through.

“Neat!” he exclaims, “Hey, there’s someone swimming in it. Wait, how does it fit?” he beams at his own show of control and proper speaking while focusing on all his bodies hanging, literally, around.

Scratching noises from below, few huffs, and masonry crumbling under unbelievably sharp claws makes Three look down, only to see a strange rusty equine creature suddenly beaming at window Eleven from the same ledge.

“Hi!” she greets them, having climbed two floors in two seconds, “Do you like climbing too? Be careful not to leave scratches, it makes the princesses mad,” she salutes, hanging easily by one foreleg, and looks down at the castle wall brutalized by her quick lunges upwards, “Oops, miss Connie will scold me again.”

“Hello,” Three smiles back, “Eleven here is just practicing, and boss said I should keep an eye on him. And look, there’s an indoor pool in here… somehow. Oh, by the way, I’m Three,” he raises his foreleg which the mare shakes, “We’re here for the meeting of the important creatures.”

“Bubbles,” with both forelegs, she pulls herself up to look inside too, “Wow, you weren’t kidding, that’s a real pool,” she narrows her eyes, “And there’s somepony swimming in it, look!”

“That’s what I said!” adds Eleven.

Three bumps into the window and rubs his forehead.

Something moves in the pool, and the water surface explodes.

A flash of light makes everyone blink.

The window opens.

Spooked Eleven lets go of the ledge under the window...

...and hovers in the air, gripped in a cyan magical aura.

A pink-tinted white… equine with two-tone pink and violet mane, beak instead of a muzzle, and talons on her forelegs is leaning out of the window, eyes narrowed as she watches the congregation outside her room. Her golden coronet adorned with three light blue plumes is glowing with the same light presumably holding Eleven.

“Fluffy...” he mumbles. And he’s right, the strange tall mare indeed is. Come to think of it, she’s easily as tall as princess Celestia which is the only point of reference Three has.

“Prey tell, what are you doing outside my window?” her voice is a little on the hostile side, but she’s obviously more curious than unfriendly.

“We were wondering how they got a pool into your room, miss,” Three scratches his head, now apparently in the position of seniority, “But… are you a changeling? You had fins and flippy tail and everything for a second, and now you’re a pony… a bird pony I mean. Are you bad mom in disguise?”

She narrows her eyes.

“What did you just say?” she asks slowly.

“Umm… which part made you mad?” Three hovers lower and grabs the floating Eleven whom the mare refuses to let go.

“Let’s start with the assumption of being a bad mother...”

“Oh, bad mom? That’s queen Chrysalis! And you changed, so I thought-”

“That I was a changeling, now I understand,” her expression thaws a little, and she pulls Eleven inside. She tilts her head and blinks when other ten Elevens follow, then Bubbles jumps in, and finally Three joins them too, “Now, who are you?”

“Hey, it’s impolite to ask others’ names without telling yours first,” Bubbles pouts, “Miss Anvil taught me that.”

“And is it polite to spy on a queen of another nation first thing in the morning?” she tilts her head, “Although you are correct in a way. My name is Novo, and I am the queen of hippogriffs.”

Bubbles smacks her head with her foreleg.

“Uh oh… miss Connie is soooo going to shove me into a pet carrier for this...” with a nervous chuckle, she bows, “I’m Bubbles, member of the Order of the Silver Sun special task force under sir Cromach. We’re here to keep you safe, ma’am!”

Three’s eyes cross. Everyone here is too important. Where is boss when you need him? Alright, it’s time to do things diplo-wordly!

“We’re with the boss representing the changelings… from the north… near the Crystal Empire,” Three bows too, taking his cue from Bubbles, “Not with bad mom, I mean queen Chrysalis. I’m Three and that’s Eleven.”

“Well, then excuse my rudeness,” Novo extends her talons to Three who shakes them. Eleven senses his moment, and hugs the huge mare’s other foreleg, “My, you certainly are friendlier than most other changelings I’ve met.”

“Just wait until you meet boss,” Three beams, “He’s awesome, even if he worries too much about everything. But minotaurs and crystal ponies are okay with us thanks to him and we have enough to eat without having to cocoon anyone. Unless they want it, of course.”

Novo blinks.

“Why would anypony want such a thing?”

“Kinda agree with the queen on this one,” adds Bubbles.

“It’s relaxing!” Three explains cheerfully, “You can have a nice dream, take an evening off, and all you need afterwards is a good bath. I even heard a pony say it’s great for your mane. I don’t have any, so I can’t tell.”

Bubbles pokes Three’s wobbly zebro.

“Ummm...”

“That’s fake,” Three scoops a bit and boops Bubbles’ nose, “Have a taste, it’s cotton candy.”

With utmost suspicion, Bubbles’ crossed eyes examine the pink blot on her nose, then she licks her muzzle, and her ears perk up.

“That’s delicious! Can I have more?” she starts sniffing Three’s scalp, “Miss Anvil doesn’t let me have too much sugar. She says I’m already hyperactive enough, and that I would get fat.”

“Sure,” Three tilts his head which Bubbles starts chewing on without delay but with utmost care. It’s like a head massage really. Wohoo, he’s doing diplomacy already! Boss will be so proud of him, “You can have some too, miss queen. You’re fit and pretty enough to handle a bite or two.”

Novo covers her beak with her talons, snickering. One Eleven scoops some of Three’s mane, and offers it to Novo who takes a peck, and hums in approval.

“I sincerely hope your… boss doesn’t mind me eating his subject,” she turns around, and walks into the pool which by all laws of physics and architecture can’t be more than a hoof deep until only her head is visible. With a flash, her hind legs turns into a fish tail, and she relaxes with her back against the opposite end, “Now, it would be rude of me not to return the gesture. If you want a dip, this pool is very accommodating. Princess Celestia had it made specifically for the rooms of me and my retinue. Us hippogriffs can transform into what others call seaponies at will,” she shows her tail by flipping it above water.

“Hey, I thought hippogriffs had pony heads and just talons, but fluffier feathers around their neck like griffons,” Bubbles has cleaned up Three’s head into glistening perfection, leaving no trace of any pink mane.

“As it turns out, yes. We, the original pureblood hippogriffs, live on and under mount Aris, and our magic allows us to transform like this. However, griffons and ponies can have hippogriff offspring who can turn out to be like us or like Bubbles here described, without the magic.”

“Neat!” Bubbles walks into the pool, and begins paddling around. Eleven’s eyes dart from Three to the water, and then one carefully lowers himself into the water and starts swimming.

“Don’t be afraid,” Novo looks at other Elevens sitting around and watching the water, “It’s very deep, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Oh, Eleven is...” Three scratches his head, “He’s like one mind in eleven bodies, that’s why we call him that. That means he’s already inside,” he points at the small changeling flapping his legs with an expression of furious concentration on his scrunched muzzle, “We had a bit of an accident in a pool yesterday. It’s hard to swim with leg holes, and Eleven isn’t the best at shapeshifting. I can show you,” he jumps into the pool, raises his forelegs while kicking with his back legs as hard as he can, “Now I’ll make our normal holes in our leg-blrblblrblr?!” he immediately sinks like a rock, and gets pulled out by Novo’s telekinesis. After coughing out some water, he adds, wheezing, “See? Eleven isn’t the best at coordinating his bodies doing new things in stressful situations, that’s why there’s just one of him in the pool,” her reshapes his legs back, and starts splashing water at Bubbles who beams with all her teeth which for reasons unknown to her don’t scare Three off. That’s a new experience, and a pleasant one to boot.

Inside a simple office on the floor above, Cromach is sitting behind his desk, reading the guest list for the summit, and his talon stops on one particular line.

“The boss of the northern changeling hive...” he asks. Contradiction, standing at attention in front of him, shrugs, “I don’t like new. New usually means bad.”

“No idea who that’s supposed to be. Maybe your buddy Vargaz will know. Black Ops agents know everything about everything.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll have to ask him later,” he drums his talons on the desk, “On the other tentacle, this could turn out to be an opportunity for a scouting mission for you and your team.”

Connie rolls her eyes.

“Yes, us, the guys who are about as inconspicuous as an active volcano farting clouds of rainbows. A white griffon who sneezes lightning, one unicorn weirdo, a demon, satyr, and a minotaur. We’re the right ones to call if and only if we ever need to infiltrate a carnival unnoticed.”

Cromach snickers at the image. Why can’t there ever be some dark mage hiding in a circus, seriously? Clowns are weird enough already for a crazy unicorn to hide around. But nooooo, it always has to be either a graveyard or the sewers.

“You’re right. We’ll need a good reason to follow members of a changeling royal retinue if we want to avoid diplomatic trouble.”

“Wheeee!” Eleven squeaks as Bubbles is holding one above water with each foreleg. Others are circling Novo floating in the center of the pool. Only one is sitting on the edge, wetting his forelegs, and keeping an eye on the situation.

Knocking on the door interrupts their fun, and Novo looks up at the clock sitting atop a small cabinet.

“Oh my, time sure flies,” she darts towards the pool’s edge, turns into a hippogriff in a flash of light, and walks out, “and I should get ready for the opening ball.”

“Don’t worry, miss queen,” Three pulls himself out of the pool and salutes. Bubbles shakes herself off like a dog, and then helps Eleven get out too. Soon, they’re all lined up by the window, “Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll tell the boss that you’re really nice for a queen.”

“Yep,” Bubbles nods as well, “I haven’t met any other queen, but you set up a high bar,” with a smile, she backflips out of the window, “Bye!”

“Goodbye to you all as well,” Novo waves at them, and goes to answer the knocking.

Three flies outside, and sees Bubbles priming for a vertical jump. With a whoosh of air, she’s on the third floor ledge, looking down at Eleven quickly climbing out too.

“Ohh hey, there’s Astry!” she looks down at guard ponies practicing and the satyr sitting cross-legged nearby, “HEEEEEY! ASTRYYYY!” she waves, hanging by one foreleg.

The satyr waves back, then covers his eyes from the sun to see Three and Eleven better.

“That’s a skinny minotaur,” comments Eleven.

“Astray is a satyr. Half-minotaur, half-something hairless and cuddly,” Bubbles explains from above, “He’s really nice, let’s go see what he’s doing!” without a moment of doubt she kicks herself off of the wall, and dives to the ground. Finishing her drop with a roll, she looks upwards at Eleven with an eager expression.

Eleven measures the distance, and comes to the correct idea of not trying to imitate Bubbles. Instead, two Elevens help steady the one hanging from the ledge while other two hang down from the first one’s legs, forming a ladder to the first floor window. The remaining six use the five to climb into safe dropping distance, and then catch the other five dropping one by one.

“Well done,” Three flies down to the pile of slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed Elevens who high one each other, “Boss will be proud of you.”

They approach Bubbles and Astray, the grey-legged and maned satyr thingy wearing a dark green, airy shirt.

“Friends?” asks Astray with a smile. Bubbles nods.

“Mhm, those eleven are Eleven, and the floaty one is Three. I already ate his mane so you can’t have any, sorry,” she adds, looking at the grass and clicking her claws.

“I might need some more clarification on that,” Astray raises an eyebrow when Eleven starts curiously poking the fingers of the arm he’s propping himself with. Suddenly, the satyr quickly opens his palm at sniffing Eleven who jumps backwards so fast he does a somersault. Elevens around the satyr narrow their eyes, frowning.

“I’m Three,” he shakes the satyr’s hand, motion which is followed by eleven heads nodding up and down with utmost suspicion, “I’m keeping an eye on Eleven while the boss is getting ready for the big meeting. Well, two eyes. I can grow more but it makes my head ache.”

“Boss took us to see the big pony city,” the Eleven in front speaks up, and uses Astray looking in his direction for one of his bodies to sneak up on the satyr from the back and grab his hand with all four legs. The satyr casually lifts Eleven wrapped around his forearm in front of his face. Eleven sticks his tongue out at him.

“So… all of these guys are Eleven?” Astray scratches the chin of an Eleven he can reach with his free arm. All Elevens stick their tongues out this time.

“Yep,” Three nods.

“Huh, shows how little we know about changelings,” muses the satyr, and lowers his Eleven down.

“You wanna play catch?” Bubbles asks.

“Sorry, can’t,” Astray shakes his head, “I’m watching the Royal Guard practice. Someone has to report to sir Cromach later. Not that I’m particularly supposed to or anything, it’s just a way to pass time before they call on us.”

Three shakes his head too.

“With all those ponies around,” he waves his hoof towards the practicing guards, “I think I should be serious and represent the boss.”

“Do I represent too?” Eleven gives Three the puppy eyes, not that Three would even want to deny his obvious request to play.

“Don’t worry about it, Eleven,” he beams, “I’ll do the representing, you do you.”

“Yay!” Eleven groups up around Bubbles, “What do we catch?”

“You!” Bubbles beams, “You run around and I have to catch you. Let’s limit ourselves to these back lawns so that we don’t bother any guests. When I catch you, we switch.”

That sounds suspiciously easy to Eleven. After all, he’s quick and she’s alone. He nods, and primes his forty-four legs.

“Alright, on the count of three,” Bubbles stands up and grins, “One… two-”

“Three!” Three calls out, and Eleven scatters.

His miscalculation becomes clear when Bubbles rushes forward with speed even the changelings consider crazy. Eleven instinctively tries to get away from her, unaware that she’s herding him into smaller and smaller circle. It doesn’t take even five minutes before Eleven has to slow down. Bubbles is faster, although their agility is about even. What makes all the difference, though, is Bubbles’ infinite stamina. She doesn’t have to slow down in the slightest.

However, Eleven is nothing if crafty about his bodies.

As Bubbles jumps ahead to force Elevens to move aside again, two bull-rush her legs, making her stumble in an attempt to avoid stomping on them. The rest swarm around and all over her.

“That’s not gonna work,” Astray smirks, “She’s a lot stronger than she looks.”

However, the pile of Eleven fails to break. It just keeps shaking until Astray realizes he’s hearing Bubbles’ unrestrained laughter.

“AHAHAHAHA- STOP- STO- HAHAHAHAHA!” Bubbles just keeps choking, laughing, and gasping for breath, “HAHAHAHAAA- HEL- HELP MEEE- AS- HAHAHA- ASTRYYYYY!”

Eventually, only two Elevens are required to completely disable Bubbles by tickling her sides while the others sit around, grinning in victory. Astray stares in horror.

“You… you immobilized… Bubbles?” he stutters.

“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!”

“I win!” Eleven finally lets Bubbles go, “Counterattack OP.”

“That was… that was…” Bubbles can finally breathe, “cheating...”

She weakly puts her forelegs up in defense when Eleven approaches again, but this time two only hug her, which she reciprocates by wrapping a foreleg around each.

“Rules are for biggers!” cheers Eleven.

“QUEEN CHRYSALIS, RULER OF THE EQUESTRIAN CHANGELING HIVE!” yells an earthpony usher clothed in red and gold coat reaching all the way to the floor after a unicorn by the other side of the big double door is done blowing a quick note on a trumpet.

Here we are, approaching a line of various species of ponies, griffons, zebras, dragons, diamond dogs, minotaurs, and Chrysalis who is just being let inside the ballroom on the ground floor of the castle. It seems like the protocol is that someone from the retinue announces the ruler’s name, the yelling guy compares it with the checklist, then the music guy blows the tune, and then the screamo calls the name out.

“IVAN IVANOV, DUKE OF STALLIONGRAD!” a white unicorn with military decorations all over his broad chest disappears into the room followed by two mares, one of whom looks like a secretary with her black formal wear and glasses, and one is obvious eye candy, wearing only a see-through skirt.

“MI AMORE CADENZA, EMPRESS OF THE CRYSTAL EMPIRE!”

My ears hurt already.

Now here’s a solution! I shapeshift myself deaf, and let out a sigh of relief. It’s going to be a long wait. On the other hole, it’s sort of fun to keep guessing who is who as they enter even though I don’t know whether I got the answer right since I can’t hear the usher anymore.

So, the grey ponies with black stripes wearing gold rings around… everything really are zebras. There’s a bunch of them the usher is calling out separately, so wherever they come from must be separated into hives or nations or groups too. A grey griffon wearing only a gold-embroidered black jacket is next, and his identity makes me wonder a little, since he looks way more common than the majority of his retinue. Then it’s the turn of an azure, red-eyed dragoness shooting dominant glares at anyone daring to catch her look.

The line moves with glacial slowness, until…

“Boss, did you think of the name?” asks Gem with urgency, currently talking to the usher.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! Of course I didn’t.

Apparently, no spine means no brain as well.

Quickly turning my ears back on, my confusion reaches peak values when sudden chaos coming from Cryo’s mind reaches me.

“What’s going-”

“BEARD!” she calls out.

“KING BEARD OF THE NORTHERN CHANGELING HIVE!” the usher calls out automatically into the ballroom as we all freeze.

“Well fuck me backwards...” One rolls her eyes, drawing us all into the hive mind.

“Holes damn it!” I sigh.

“Congratulations, beardad,” Two snickers.

“Cryo, what the hole?!” I raise my mental voice at the blinking queen.

“I… I… the beard… studied shadows… and scary crystals...” she stutters out, “Wanted weapons… minotaurs helped...”

“Cryo, not now, please. We can’t have you stuck at the moment.”

“Rebooting,” says Two, and kicks Cryo’s hind leg in the real world as hard as she can without being too obvious about it.

“Hey!” the queen looks down at Two who gives her an innocent smile, “Oh, was I doing it again? My bad.”

“Glad you’re back with us,” I sigh, gradually shuffling into the ballroom, ”Now to just deal with being king of the beard or whatever that pony idiot called me.”

“You can just grow one, boss,” I hear Three who is apparently watching through us, “Like I did with my mane… until Bubbles ate it.”

“Who did WHAT?!” my eye twitches. As is usual with Three, what he’s saying contains too much information as well as too little at the same time.

“Don’t worry, boss. I’ll grow it back soon, and we made new friends!” he adds.

Okay, okay, breathe. First things first. What’s the worst that can happen? They’ll laugh about the beard thing. I might even get to explain it and gain a fun story out of it, right?

Keep walking. Ignore the stares, that’s normal. They’re just curious. Ignore the shaking legs.

“WHAT THE-” Chrysalis sits up from her chair so fast it flips over, now standing on her hind legs with her forelegs slammed into the central table. Her eyes are open wide, but her slit pupils are like those of a predator ready to kill, and her fangs are openly visible.

“Ah, excellent,” princess Luna’s friendly wave towards us is interrupted by Chrysalis’ jerky reaction.

“-BUCK?!” Celestia is standing already as well, finishing Chrysalis’ thought. Her narrowed eyes aren’t on the murder level of Chrysalis, but the open hostility is palpable.

Kinda hard to ignore that.

The thing is… they’re not looking at me. They’re looking above me.

Their shocked and furious glares are all aimed at Cryo.

Thankfully, Luna comes to the rescue, and approaches us first with a smile, giving a courteous bow to me and One walking in the front.

“Forgive my memory, but I do believe I recall only the lady here,” she nods at One.

“Oh, we’ve met-” I pause, “Ah, you wouldn’t recognize me, princess, would you? I was much smaller and without the mane. Still in charge, though, or so they made me believe,” I add with a smirk.

“I see, the one everypony wanted to protect from us. You’ve grown up a lot in the past years.”

“Despite certain fanatic’s attempts at making sure he wouldn’t,” One nods at rapidly approaching Celestia and Chrysalis.

“My sister will explain everything, but she understands how wrong she was. You have to understand as well that the situation was vastly different from today. I had hope in you, and you didn’t fail me,” Luna smiles.

“We need to talk right now!” Chrysalis hisses at me, “What the hive is she doing here?!” she nods at Cryo who is quietly staring down at both princesses and the queen.

“We should all calm down and take this discussion somewhere a little more private than the center of the ballroom,” says Luna.

“Where did you dig up this relic-” Chrysalis downright growls now.

“Shut up, mother,” One steps up and looks straight into Chrysalis’ eyes. The queen’s scowling changeling bodyguard raises her hoof, but doesn’t do anything, having apparently received a mental order from Chrysalis, “My king is too polite to cause a scene here, but it’s clear that you aren’t and neither am I.”

“We need to talk about this,” Celestia’s careful and controlled tone interrupts the staring contest between One and Chrysalis.

“We certainly do,” all heads turn to Luna, “I’ve never seen you so impolite, sister,” the moon princess tilts her head only slightly, but a gesture like that won’t be lost on a changeling.

With renewed peace, or at least a temporary truce, we stop being the spectacle of the room as we follow Luna to a long, wallside table filled with refreshments.

“Now, what was that all about?” asks Luna in a hushed tone.

“That is Cryo!” Chrysalis glances at the larger queen currently sniffing the punch bowl before burying her muzzle into it and taking a long, gurgling draft, “Though I don’t recall her being such animal.”

“One of queen Chrysalis’ generals from the invasion of Canterlot during the great war with the rising changeling empire.”

“Aaaand? I know I haven’t been around at the time, being launched on the moon and all,” Luna says meaningfully, “but a lot of old enemies are our friends these days,” her head turns from Celestia to Chrysalis.

“Cryo staged a rebellion against me during the siege!” growls Chrysalis, “We were so close to taking the castle and ending pony resistance once and for-” she stops, realizing that Celestia is now giving her an unusually hostile stare.

“You know, I was wondering for decades as we were rebuilding what stroke of luck saved us in those dark days...” muses the solar princess who decides to approach Cryo who has successfully polished off the entire punch bowl.

“Fruity,” she hiccups, and a stream of floating pink bubbles leaves her mouth, “Little beard -hic- I might have -hic- a problem,” she covers her mouth, hiccups again, and the bubbles come out of her ears.

Now that’s a strange reaction of liquid and our changeling goo if ever I saw one, and I saw one mix melt through a granite floor.

“Oh dear,” Two opens the nearest window, and leads Cryo to it, “Just try to breathe, and don’t worry about the bubbles.”

“Ahem,” I clear my throat, “Cryo is a member of my hive now, so I’d appreciate if you left the buried past where it belongs,” I lower my voice while looking at Chrysalis, “Especially those of us who have a history of butchery beyond redemption.”

“You talk big for a drone-”

The following crack of chitin fails to resonate through the ballroom only thanks to an incredibly quick sound blocking spell of Two of all changelings.

“Oh dear holes thank you!”

“No problem, dad. All in the day’s work for an infiltrator.”

Chrysalis’ bodyguard barely had a chance to move when One’s downwards punch broke the queen’s muzzle. Even Chrysalis barely had a chance to move.

“You will show my king proper respect,” says One coldly, “and you will extend that respect to my whole hive,” she glances Cryo’s way, “Fail to do that, and we will have words. Your will be ‘ouch’, ‘I beg you’, and ‘please stop stabbing my rectum with my own brutally twisted off horn’.”

Green fire washes away Chrysalis’ horrified stare and unnaturally bent muzzle, replacing it with her usual healthy form and calm demeanor. I can sense her seething under the disguise, though.

“Enough!” Luna narrows her eyes at One, “This is a summit about cooperation and peace,” then she looks at me, “There is no one beyond redemption. Trust me, I know better than most,” and finally, she nods to Celestia, “Sister, I would love a refresher on recent history later, but there are others we should greet at the moment.”

Celesta agrees, gives one final fascinated glance to now slightly foaming Cryo being taken care of by Two, and follows her sister to meet a fourth, smaller, purple alicorn mare who feels familiar for some reason.

“Honey, let me talk to Chrysalis alone, will you?” One mentally pokes me.

“No punching unless she tries anything,” I reply, and slowly walk off, examining the variety of pony food on the tables.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be diplomatic.”

“More threats out of earshot, my daughter?” Chrysalis tilts her head.

“I said what needed to be said. You acted like a total ass,” One shrugs, “And I believe Luna said the rest. That aside, this isn’t your first summit, I suppose. How do things generally go?”

If Chrysalis is surprised in the slightest by the shift of the conversation into the realm of casual, she doesn’t show it.

“Since we don’t control any actual surface territory other than the Badlands where no one really wants to live, much of the discussion about migration or trade doesn’t concern us. I’m here more to show that changelings are still a thing in this world, that getting rocks thrown at us in the street is a bad idea, and that we’re smart enough to contribute to the society at large. You’d be surprised, but this is what I’ve been trying to accomplish during my time of not being ‘evil’. I assume your king Beard,” she snickers, “will be building on the foundations I set up. Speaking of facial hair growth, what’s all that about?”

“It’s a long story...” One sighs, “No, it’s actually a very short and incredibly stupid story. You wanna hear it without your emergency ration tailing you all the time?” she nods to Chrysalis’ bodyguard whose eye twitches.

“That’s my new rank One,” Chrysalis taps her hoof against the floor, which makes her One freeze, “You might have noticed she’s a warrior this time. Plurality of opinion isn’t exactly what I’m used to, but I’m starting to see the benefits as well as drawbacks in these changing times. With Comfort’s ascension, you finding a new owner, and my general loss of changeling power, even my best still have a lot to learn. Good thing we’re not at war anymore, I suppose.”

With tentative peace restored, One, other One, and Chrysalis continue their chat about the current status of the hive, and the better parts of the old days.

Unfortunately, it would be too much to ask for cheer to rule everywhere.

Cryo has finished hiccuping, and is sniffing a variation of smoked meats prepared for the diamond dog, dragon, and griffon visitors, cuts neatly stacked into a fan on each other. She examines a string of sausages, and slurps one up whole. In an attempt to move her head up from the full plate, she notices that the whole rolled up batch moved. A more careful cross-eyed examination reveals that the sausages are all connected, and that the string is stuck between Cryo’s teeth.

“Little beard, I think this food is a trap,” she doesn’t dare move not to start flailing a long string of sausages around.

A burst of laughter from a group of griffon delegates busy with the selection of food nearby, however, makes her straighten up in an attempt to look dignified. That, of course, leaves her in her full huge glory with a pony length of sausages stuck in her mouth, much to the snickering and whispering of quite a lot of guests now.

“Little beard, I’m afraid I’m causing trouble for the boss.”

“Don’t worry, just lean down and I’ll get it out,” Two rushes over from her own examination of mild liquor. Cryo’s motion only serves to amuse the griffons further, at least until the leading grey griffon approaches and says something Two can’t hear over the loud conversations of everyone. The snickering stops immediately, and the griffon attention turns back to food. Whoever the griffon leader is, he is firmly in charge.

In fact, almost everyone loses interest as soft music starts playing from the stage in the back of the ballroom. Some of the more courageous ponies quickly start dancing to the tune. The one who doesn’t lose interest, however, is a ‘loaf of beard’ tall enough to reach Cryo’s underbelly who approaches the azure queen finally freed by Two.

“Beautiful lady got appetite,” the brown yak wearing a crown says in a genuinely appreciative tone, “Changeling don’t mind stuck up griffons. Yak mares know how to eat, and are proud of it. You big, you strong, you represent hive well,” and just as quickly as he came, he leaves the two absolutely astonished changelings behind.

“That loaf of beard didn’t smell,” comments Cryo after a while, “Must have been royalty.”

“Yeeeeah...” Two scratches her head, “I’m pretty sure this will result in diplomatic relations we might not want.”

“Diplomatic cocoon.”

“Yep. Come on, they refilled the punch with blue one. I want to see if it makes you blow different bubbles.”

Whether it’s because she enjoys the taste, or whether she just wants to spend time with Two, Cryo follows her off to try the fresh bowl of drink.

As the event progresses, One notices a large, muscular zebra stallion approaching her with an easy to sense hint of lust coming off of him. A heavy golden hoop hangs from his ear, and there are three around his neck as well, possibly a mark of status.

“I couldn’t help noticing,” he speaks up in a deep, seductive voice, “how you showed queen Chrysalis her place in front of the Equestrian princesses. You are a powerful mare.”

One returns his interested smile, curious where this is going.

“Speechless?” the zebra continues, confidence practically oozing from him, “We, zebras, have this effect on mares. Many even seek us out to join our harems,” he has to stretch his legs and neck to reach to One’s chin despite being taller and broader built than the occasional earthpony guards occasionally visiting the ballroom, “The heat of Zebrica can be… legendary.”

“I do believe I’ve heard the rumors,” One smiles back at the obviously hungry zebra.

“They are more than just rumors, gorgeous,” the zebra nuzzles her neck, “I heard your… king speak, a typical soft diplomat. Why don’t we sneak off somewhere private where I can show you why we rule the fantasies of married mares?”

“You…?” One’s sudden unimpressed tone serves like a cold shower. She leans down to look under the stallion’s belly, “With that?” she starts laughing, “You’re offering that… to a changeling? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What? You got just one? Yeah, let’s sneak off -HAHAHAHAHA- for few minutes -HAHAHA- somewhere private! I think -HAHAHA- I can spare -HAH- a hoof!”

The stallion huffs, now red with indignation. Celestia arrives to see what’s going on.

“Oh my, somepony is having fun,” she comments carefully, keenly aware that the stallion certainly isn’t that somepony.

One wraps her foreleg around the zebra’s shoulders, not giving him an inch to move when he tries to shift away.

“Nopony told me that zebras are so charming and funny too!” says One out loud, “What a lovely chat, but I should go. Business doesn’t wait,” she strides off towards Cryo currently shoving her head into an open window again.

“Diplomatic enough for you, honey?” One asks with a hint of real amusement.

“Yep, that guy might know the heat of Zebrica, but he’ll still need some ointment for that burn.”

Author's Notes:

Patch notes for chapter 4

- "Hard to find the right words" story mentioned.
- Added historical context to some stuff.
- Attack speed of One increased by 31.5%
- One added to the cover art.
- Failed attempt at invasive surgery to implant an artificial spine to boss.

5: Obviously, it couldn't last.

Exactly how it is possible that someone of Cromach’s stature and color has remained mostly unnoticed during the mingler might forever be shrouded in mystery. However, if there was someone who would notice the white griffon loitering behind a pillar in the corner of the ballroom then it would be the grey griffon leader currently approaching him at casual pace.

A keen observer would notice the griffons wearing almost the same clothing - a simple yet comfortable black jacket. However, where the grey griffon’s one is tastefully decorated with gold ornaments, Cromach’s design uses silver embroidery with an added symbol of a silver sun on his back.

Contrary to everyone in the room bowing or at least giving a courteous nod to the Griffon Empire steward, Cromach offers him only a quick salute, which the griffon returns with a faint smile.

“You don’t look happy to be here, your Holiness,” Cromach smirks.

“Emperor’s infinitely sharp sight, don’t call me that, ambassador Cromach,” the griffon makes a fake throwing up noise.

“You should rather be saying Emperor’s hopefully empty diaper, shouldn’t you, Vargaz?”

The current steward of the Griffon Empire, the head of the Imperial Secret Service known as Black Ops, and thus likely the most influential creature attending the ball and possible in the world, ticks off an invisible item on an invisible pad with an invisible pen.

“Execution order resumed. Keep talking, agent, keep talking...”

Contrary to the words said, Cromach just laughs.

“I could use the practice, Vargaz, trust me. I’d take assassins over bureaucracy any day now. That way I’d be responsible only for myself, not the slightly prolonged existence of the whole world.”

Vargaz give Cromach a courteous bow.

“I haven’t had the chance to say my condolences, what with taking care of the young Emperor. The Emperor and the Empire owe you and your late lover a lot.”

“Considering that Crowley was being taken over by Nightmare, the whole world does. All I’m saying is that it would be nice not to have to balance the Order’s budget every quarter of a year after what Blaze, Connie, I, and others did.”

“I am turning a blind eye to your using Black Ops money for Silver Sun funding, Cromach. Considering you’re working for Equestria, that’s technically high treason.”

“I told you already, send some assassins, I could use the cardio. As long as you send me a good accountant with them,” Cromach shrugs.

“I would assume your princesses would have provided someone experienced if you asked,” Vargaz tilts his head.

“Considering that Celestia pretty much caused Blaze’s death, and that due to her idiocy we had to fight the whole Vigil elite on our own, I try to avoid working for her as much as I can. She admitted her fault, but that won’t bring him back now, will it?”

“Then what brings you here if not her orders?” Vargaz looks around, “Some suspected dark threats?”

“Nothing even remotely substantial,” Cromach waves his talons dismissively, “Celestia just wants a show of power during the summit, and Silver Sun seems to mean something these days. It’s free buffet, and I thought my new team could use a break. Last time we were in Canterlot, it wasn’t much of a vacation. Personally, I hate these events as much as you do.”

“Only six more years,” Vargaz chuckles, nodding, “Then the Emperor will be of age to lead, and I can go back to scheming behind the scenes,” he snaps his talons as if remembering something important, “Before I forget, the accountant thing. I can be of help.”

Cromach raises his eyebrow skeptically.

“Come on, the last thing I need is to have to keep an eye on a Black Ops agent doing my finances and sending all reports about what we do back to the Empire.”

“You wound me, Cromach,” Vargaz puts a foreleg to his chest, faking a hurt expression, “Or you would if that wasn’t exactly what I would do normally. However, my word needs to be worth more than gold and gems these days, or the noble families will tear the Empire apart. If you need a perfect accountant, I will provide. No questions asked, for free, no reports to me or anyone else but you. I don’t take my debts lightly, especially big ones like what we owe to you.”

“I’ll consider it. How are things in the Empire anyway?”

“Eventful, as usual,” Vargaz shrugs, and examines the pony food on the table, “As it turns out, Crowley had supporters among the nobles, many of whom used Emhyr’s death to steal some power from their neighbors. Unfortunately, they have much less noble intentions than he had. He would have made such a good Emperor if he didn’t become the pawn of an evil god. Oh well, such is life...” the griffon sighs, “It would be a blessing if you could marry some highborne daughter and move back to the Empire. Or son, although that would be harder to defend, but some nobles do worse things on daily basis. You’d be alright, hero and all.”

“I’m happily in a relationship again, actually, and I like Equestria,” from the corner of his eye, Cromach notices three newcomers to the ball who didn’t suffer the misfortune of having their names called out by the usher, “Speak of the devil, there she goes. The unicorn,” he nods the way of Anvil, Astray, and Connie slowly walking towards him.

Vargaz whistles.

“Oh my. Lucky you, although-”

“The minotaur sleeps with the other guy,” Cromach adds with a smirk.

“I take that back, lucky him,” Vargaz nods approvingly, “I think I should visit Rift at some point while I’m still young if that lady isn’t a complete outlier,” he pats Cromach’s shoulder, “Anyway, they seem to be looking for you, so I’ll go meet the zebra delegates. I’m pretty sure that the one with the dark blue military trench coat and gold buttons is a successor to a dictator my agents killed earlier this year. I need to call in few private favors.”

Cromach watches the leaving griffon, undisturbed by his comments. Soon, though, a much more pleasant sight reveals itself as Anvil, Astray, and Connie finally arrive. With a smug and quite openly pervy smile he lets his eyes linger on Anvil who is fully clothed, which in her case only means even more jaws dropped everywhere around than usual.

She’s wearing tight white pants, which somehow manage to leave even less to imagination than when she’s naked, dark blue jacket with silver buttons and deep cleavage, and for some reason a tricorn hat. On her, it fits. Although anything showing half of what this fancy outfit does would look absolutely stunning.

Connie, on the other talon, opted for a much simpler outfit - a white shirt tucked into a pair of tight, shimmering, black pants. Considering that she has much less to show than Anvil, the same style looks actually remotely decent. Her white mane is tied into a simple, slick ponytail showing her long neck, pretty much the only feature that would make any attendee of the ball look at her over Anvil.

Astray’s clothes are a lot more flowing and airy in comparison to the tightly compressed females with him, which makes sense because he isn’t too keen on showing his ass around, although considering how exotic he must look to most occupants of the ballroom, there certainly are mares giving him impressed stares. He’s wearing simple grey pants with silver flower petal embroidery on their outer sides, and a black shirt with top buttons popped open.

None of the three are visibly armed, but Cromach knows his team. If anything happens, they will be ready.

“Well, you’ve certainly captivated my attention as well as everyone else’s,” the griffon smirks, “And even without the screaming idiot calling out your names. I wasn’t so lucky, and my ears are still ringing. Speaking of big ears, where’s Bubbles?”

Connie levitates four glasses of punch, one for each of them. As she’s busy, Anvil answers:

“Sneaking around,” Anvil points at the small demonette currently hiding behind a pillar on the other side of the room, “Said something about keeping an eye on the new changelings.”

“Wait, what?” Cromach blinks, successfully avoiding spitting out the punch ins surprise and ruining someone’s clothes. Then he waves his foreleg, “Eh, nevermind. By the way, the food is free, so have fun, but if anything happens, don’t kick ass on stuffed stomach. You might get the cramps.”

“Orders received,” Anvil salutes, grinning, “There are few zebras drooling my way, and judging by the scowling of one of Darkhorn’s minotaurs, he’s the more traditional sort who thinks us females should be only firekeepers stuck at home. I think I’ll parade around for a while.”

Astray clears his throat.

“You know, we can do something other than cause havoc,” he nods to the stage in the back, “Care for a dance?”

“You can dance?” she flicks his ear.

“A little,” he shrugs, “Not that I had a chance to practice since I left the orphanage, but it’s not like they can play anything difficult to dance to since there are so many different species attending. The question is, can you dance?”

“Hah, you’re asking me if I can dance?” Anvil crosses her arms on her chest, and then breathes out, “No, I actually can’t,” she laughs at Astray’s stunned expression, “What? I had you for a second there, didn’t I?”

“Hope you brought your paladin sabatons,” Cromach adds with a touch of friendly sadism.

“I doubt I will need those, sir,” Astray gives him a soft but reassuring smile, “Both Anvil and I do martial arts with the best grandmaster in the world. We can coordinate during a simple dance,” he winks at Anvil, and takes her hand, “Shall we?”

They give Connie their emptied glasses, which the unicorn levitates back on the table.

“That’s gonna be quite a show...” she comments, pouring herself a second glass already.

“So are you if you don’t slow down with that punch. I mean, it’s almost alcohol-free, but you’re a serious lightweight,” Cromach absentmindedly grabs Connie’s ponytail and twirls it in his talons.

“Heh, now that I don’t need liquid courage to ask you out, I think I can handle myself,” she whistles innocently, recalling how incredibly wasted she got during their friends’ and ex-teammates’ wedding last year when she wanted to tell Cromach how she felt about him for the first time, “Oh boy, here it comes,” her attention turns to Astray quietly gasping at Anvil’s first step straight on his fetlock, “Martial arts coordination my ass.”

“Wanna join them so that they aren’t the only ones limping tomorrow?” Cromach winks at her.

“Nah,” Connie shakes her head, “Unlike Anvil, I don’t need the attention of the whole room on myself. I just need yours,” she gives Cromach a peck on his cheek.

“I wouldn’t be getting all kissy with me,” the griffon wraps his foreleg around her shoulders, “I just ate that garlic mini-sausage.”

She just leans against him and shakes her head. If this is going to be a boring few hours, it’s going to be few warm, boring hours.

Bubbles, thankfully having avoided being stuck into any tight clothing, and left only with a collar decorated with a silver sun, keeps lurking by the sides of the ballroom, namely where the food tables are. For some reason, there was a string of sausages hidden under the long tablecloth. It was all slobbery with something blue and minty, but delicious anyway, and no one saw Bubbles eat it which was a bonus.

“The patrol should be coming in ten seconds, get ready...” she hears a devious voice followed by a lot of industrial-tier gurgling. Peeking from under the tablecloth, she notices four absolutely huge changeling legs, and crawls from underneath the long table, which reveals a changeling, duh, as tall as Anvil sticking her head out of the corner window, with a much smaller changeling on her back now counting quietly, “Three… two… one...”

The big changeling loudly burps out a thick cloud of red bubbles which is thankfully drowned out by the sound of live music inside. Outside, though, it literally makes the unicorn guard just clearing the corner teleport backwards and scream:

“CODE TWO-ONE-ONE, EXPLOSION IN THE BALLROOM, I REPEAT-” he stops when he hears the changelings laughing out loud with the large one foaming red out of her nose and ears for some reason, “Hey, what was that supposed to be?!”

The changelings quickly close the window and, as if nothing happened, move to the opposite end of the ballroom.

Bubbles can’t help smiling from ear to ear which, unfortunately for his poor heart, is the first thing the guard sees when he gathers the courage to peek into the window again. She immediately realizes what her oversized and oversharp teeth do to unsuspecting ponies, but the guard is already on the grass, clutching his chest.

Few black blurs rush over to the collapsed pony and start poking him from all sides. Bubbles resumes beaming, realizing that the tiny black heads mirror her own smile on a smaller scale. She opens the window and waves.

“Hi, Eleven,” she looks up as she hears soft buzzing, ”Hi, Three!”

“Oh hey, Bubbles,” Three waves back, “How’s the big celebration going?”

After making sure the guardspony is groaning and breathing, Eleven forms a pyramid to be able to peek inside through the window. Bubbles pats the head of the top one who nuzzles her claw.

“It’s a bit boring, to be honest,” Bubbles shrugs, “Why aren’t you inside? There’s a bunch of changelings already there.”

“Oh yeah, we know. We saw Two and Cryo in the window, so we came for a chat, but then everything went red and bubbly, and when it cleared they were gone.”

“The huge one with light blue mane and a small one with red mane?” Bubbles leans back inside to see the duo stalking a servant carrying a tray of multicolored drinks. How can someone be so quiet and sneaky with that size is somewhat of an intriguing mystery to the demonette. It must be a changeling thing.

“Yep, that’s them,” Three nods, “And we can’t go in. Miss One said that this was an important meeting, not a daycare center, so we’re out here with Eleven, exploring.”

“I wish I was out there too...” Bubbles frowns, “Miss Anvil and Astray are dancing, sir Cromach is chatting with princess Luna and miss Connie, and all the dignitaries look super stuffy or busy. Well, there was one grey griffon who scratched me behind an ear and didn’t smell scared. Wait! I’ll go ask sir Cromach if I can go outside. He said nothing bad was probably going to happen,” Bubbles rushes off to badger two figures Three doesn’t know and princess Luna.

The alicorn looks his way, and her jaw drops. Three waves at her, his glowing purple runes leaving lines in the air. She must remember him from the castle! Wait… he was dead when the princesses arrived, wasn’t he?

“Hello, princess! I’m not a ghost, I’m real!” he raises his voice, but Luna clearly doesn’t hear him, “I glow too! Wait, that’s what ghosts do...”

The white griffon waves his foreleg, which apparently grabs Luna’s attention, exchanges few words with the black and white unicorn mare accompanying them, and then Bubbles rushes back, and vaults through the window.

“Sir Cromach is okay with us hanging out. I’m supposed to give you a tour of the castle gardens.”

“Neat, let’s go!”

“-and finally, we also welcome changeling king Beard from the northern hive,” princess Celestia opens the business meeting.

It’s afternoon, it’s quiet, and I’m feeling a bit peckish. As it turns out, Chrysalis’ retinue brought charged love crystals which, sadly, they refused to share with us on the account of them being carefully measured to be enough for her changelings, because her hive still wasn’t in the best situation. In my opinion, I think One’s diplomatic downward right hook kinda closed the goodwill door for us. On the other hole, it’s not like we’re even remotely low on love, it’s just that without the occasional refresh, the body just wonders what’s going on.

Still, that concerns only me and One, because Three’s full and so is Eleven. Cryo is currently sleeping in her room, snoring multicolored bubbles, and Two is on the hunt in the city. We’ll be okay if she returns with something as well as later when we meet Three again. I couldn’t really take him to the business part of the summit as a snack, could I?

“We vouch for king Beard’s presence on this summit despite the north hive having no surface territory,” Shining Armor proclaims, supported by princess Cadance’s nodding.

Darkhorn rises afterwards.

“We can also attest to them being a relevant business partner to both us and the Crystal Empire.”

Zebra delegates do the same for the apparently new ones, and in the end Celestia does that for the azure dragoness by the name Ember, currently in charge of the Dragon Lands who looks equally nervous and bored which is somewhat of a feat, really.

One and Gem are sitting by my sides, and while One is quietly observing everyone, Gem is digging in a backpack containing several lists of potential tradeable materials and things dwarves in Brauheim could use. We’ll be doing business mostly on behalf of the dwarves, since we don’t exactly have anything we currently need.

The proceedings start with the leading griffon by the name Vargaz bringing up some forged steel treaty with Equestria, and as soon as he starts reading numbers, I realize that all my nervousness is gone.

It’s exactly like at home.

“Okay, guys, let’s take it from the top,” Seven facehoofs, “You have the knowledge. Six gave you everything you needed.”

A drone gathers itself from the floor of the tunnel, shaking its head in a daze.

“Well, we know how those things work,” a different drone points to a hoof-held power drill lying nearby, “But those are made for dwarves, not us. We’re not built like them.”

“That’s the defeatist inside you speaking!” Seven shakes his hoof in the air, “You can do it, you just have to get the grip of things. Digging the hive throne room is the most important thing there can be and, unfortunately, the plans require the throne room to be here in this section of baked volcanic granite. We have two weeks to do this, and I want it to be done by the time the boss comes back. I believe in you!”

One of the drones salutes, spurred on by Seven’s optimistic attitude. It walks over to the dropped power drill, fastens it to its forelegs, takes its position at the end of the tunnel, puts the… digging part to the wall, and clicks the starter button with its free hoof. It takes few seconds for the machine to start humming while the drone has its hooves in the slots by the handle, teeth grit in concentration. Soon it starts buzzing, then rumbling…

...and then the vibrating begins as the drill jumps to action, spinning and pumping like a cross of a simple drill and a pneumatic hammer. One-fifteen’s forelegs go numb within few seconds, and the power of the device starts flailing the drone behind itself. It holds on for several more seconds, and then flies off into the tunnel exactly like the drone attempting this before. The drill safety shuts down as soon as the drone’s hooves leave the handle, and with only few more jumps it lands on the floor along with the bouncing drone.

“Owww...” One-fifteen shakes its head, and looks at few knocked out teeth scattered on the floor, “Awww… now I look thilly.”

Seven rushes over to the drone. The last attempt ended with a dazed but unhurt One-Fourteen, this is worse. He puts a hoof on the drone’s head, and pours some love into it. One-Fifteen immediately fixes its mouth, and salutes.

“Thanks, Seven,” it glances in the way of the once again floored power drill, “I don’t wanna be a defeatist, I really don’t, but we’re not as strong and heavy as the dwarves, and that thing just kicks around too much. We can try digging this out the changeling way harder and without sleep if you and the infiltrators can get some more love, but that rock is just really hard,” he nods to the end of the tunnel.

“We wouldn’t make it in time anyway...” grunts Seven.

A warrior - One-eighteen, raises its hoof.

“Why is it so important that we’re done with the throne room before the boss is back? I mean, he himself said that time wasn’t of the essence.”

“True, true,” Seven nods, “but imagine how excited he’ll be if we have a place for him where he can live as our real boss, not as a guest of the dwarves.”

“Technically, he’s the king of dwarves as well, so the castle is his as well, isn’t it?” asks One-one, an infiltrator.

“Yes, but it’s not a changeling castle! That’s enough questions,” Seven scowls at the new infiltrator, “Now, if none of the drones are strong enough to use the dwarven equipment, we just have to be resourceful. Stand aside, I’ll show you how it’s done using a brain.”

Seven grabs a small piece of rock, and with his horn glowing, he transforms the rock into a stick of chalk with which he draws an uneven summoning circle on the floor. Thankfully, while the rest of the tunnel is jagged and basic, the floor is fairly smooth and even.

His focus is supreme despite all other changelings shuffling nervously away from him. After all, summoning a demon is nothing new to him, right? The glow of his horn grows stronger. All he needs is a powerful demon, a strong, obedient demon capable of using the power drill to show the drones how it’s done. A demon, exactly like he did the first time. The desired contract takes form inside his mind as the spell requires - all he needs is a demon to do the digging.

The energy gathered by his mind opens a hole in existence, and the summoning circle bursts out with flames. Seven grins. Whatever massive and powerful murder demon will be bound to his exact orders and…

Seven’s grin freezes.

“SEVEN!” Comfort’s scream echoes through the tunnel along with few mumbled hellos and waves from the hundred-rank drones, “TELL ME IN WHAT HOLES DAMN REALITY DO YOU SUMMON A SUCCUBUS WITH A CONTRACT TO DIG SHIT?!”

“I- umm- miss Comfort- uhh- I think I- I must have- my mind must have wandered to you-”

“DO YOU WANT YOUR MIND TO REMAIN IN THAT SKULL?” Comfort takes a step forward and her muzzle scrunches against the invisible wall cast by the edge of the summoning circle.

One of the drones has produces a bag of popcorn out of somewhere, and is sharing with a warrior standing next to it.

“I’m really sorry, miss Comfort-” pleads Seven, backing away, “I can fix this. I don’t know the exact banishment spell, but I think I can figure it out in few hours-”

“Screw that!” Comfort stomps the floor, “Let me out.”

“I’m not sure I should-”

“Seven...” she growls, “Look, I don’t think I can have the boss rip your head off, but I sure a hole can ask him to lock your horn and have you dig this whole hive ON YOUR OWN, SO FUCKING LET ME OUT!”

“Okay, okay, let’s not do something crazy we’d all regret and threaten each other with manual labor,” Seven’s back hits the wall of the tunnel.

“YOU SUMMONED ME TO DIG YOU A FUCKING ROOM!”

“Technically, not me, but the boss- AAH!” his back legs give out, and he plops on his butt when Comfort shoots him an almost physically punching glare, “You can leave the circle, you can leave the circle, pleasedon’teatme!”

“Good, so I have to dig through this,” she knocks on the wall at the end of the tunnel, uncharacteristically calm all of a sudden, “You, drones, why is the idiot summoning a demon for this?”

“I-” Seven opens his mouth, his chitin beet-red now as he hears the chittering of changelings around.

“I really wasn’t asking you,” Comfort says with a sweet smile that nonetheless promises slow and painful death by broken off limbs inserted into holes and attached to the power drill, “So?”

“Miss Comfort, we can’t dig out this area quickly enough without a big supply of love,” says One-nineteen, the closest drone, “and Seven is trying to have us use dwarven power tools for it, but we just can’t. We’re too light and weak… sorry...” it adds in the end.

“Alright, sit on your asses until I come back,” in a flash of fire, Comfort disappears.

For some thirty minutes, no one dares move or speak, both out loud and mentally. Then rumbling begins in the distance, gradually drawing closer and closer. Eventually, everyone can hear yelling over the roar of what has to be an engine.

“It’s ten percent luck, fifteen percent skill, fifty percent concentrated POWER DRILL! Five percent pleasure, ninety-nine percent PAIN, AND A THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SIX FUCKING PERCENT REASON TO REMEMBER NOT TO SUMMON ME FOR FUCKING DIGGING!”

Drones scatter as a massive dwarven motorized drill starts chewing through the tunnel without any guidance of rails, but with Comfort sitting in the driver’s seat. Seven screams in horror, and with a flick of his horn teleports everyone behind the tunnel digger. A high-pitched screech of the drill hitting the wall makes everyone’s eyes cross before the engine sputters out, and silence rules the tunnels of the hive again as black smoke pours out of the big machine’s back.

Comfort climbs out of the drill when it stops doing anything, and examines the wall.

“Hmmm… seems this dwarven crap isn’t as good as they say,” she leans to the short dome the drill managed to dig into the tunnel, “Hey, there’s some black stuff here, Drones? Get over here!”

One-thirteen darts ahead, partly curious about the apparently broken dwarven device, and partly about the progress Comfort’s reckless attempt brought. To the drone’s eyes, it looks like the drill broke through a thick layer of volcanic granite and indeed hit something black it barely scratched before burning out.

“Hey, that’s bedrock,” Seven arrives, curiosity taking him over as well, “But that’s usually found way deeper. Damn, there’s really no way we can hollow out this big a section of underground if it’s bedrock. That means...” he sighs, “That means we need to move the whole hive...”

“Umm...” One-thirteen scratches its head, “I don’t think it’s solid,” the drone knocks its hoof against the bedrock, then repeats it, only stronger, “I mean, the bedrock thingy is weird, but to me it feels as if it’s hollow.”

“I’m not staying here until you dig this out!” Comfort groans, frustrated, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuu-” she cocks her foreleg back where it starts burning with pink fire that makes Seven’s horn flicker, “-cckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!” and punches.

She pulls her foreleg out of a hoof-sized hole in the black wall.

“Hey, the little dummy was right, it is hollow,” Comfort pats One-thirteen’s head, “That means I fulfilled the contract. I’m freeeeee!” in a burst of fire, Comfort is gone, leaving behind a bunch of confused changelings, tunnel filled with burned machine smoke, and Seven genuinely reconsidering his life choices.

“Huuuh… if this is hollow, I wonder what’s behind it,” mumbles One-thirteen, its blue eye pressed tightly against the hole, “Nope, can’t see anything.”

“We need at least a little light, I suppose,” Seven shoves the drone aside, and a flying white spark separates from the glow of his horn and enters the hole, “What now?”

One-thirteen peeks inside again, and frowns.

“I dunno. Looks like a wide open space… with maybe something...” it pulls its head back, and then from side to side as the glow of Seven’s spark grows brighter. In the end, the drone shakes its head, “I think there is something in the room, but I don’t have a proper field of view. Can someone transform into a bat or something?”

“Let’s not,” orders Seven, “It could be a nest of flame spiders or something, and if one of you gets eaten then it’ll be up to me to explain how it happened,” he sighs, “Alright, let’s do it the changeling way. Start digging around this section of bedrock. With any luck, it’s not too huge. I’ll… I’ll just go tell loremaster Granite that we broke one of the diggers...” he ends with a sigh, and walks away.

Later, he knocks on the door of the council room, and enters. Six is reading something while Five is idly massaging his shoulders. Granite is the only dwarf here, busy with a different report.

“Hey, guys?” Seven scratches his head nervously, “Digging out the throne room hit a little… snag.”

Six turns his head.

“Look, I tried to tell you over and over, unless we use actual dwarven armor and enhance drone muscles to the point of warriors, we won’t be able to use dwarven power tools effectively. The kickback is just too big. I know you want us to use technology, but we’d burn more love on enhancements than we would by digging normally.”

“Well yes… I see that now,” Seven nods, “Buuut… what about those huge dwarven diggers that you can drive around?”

“We don’t need them,” Six rolls his eyes, “Those are useful, I admit, but the way drones dig is better for soft changes and actually somewhat faster because we don’t need to lay tracks for everywhere,” Six’s eye twitches, “Wait… don’t tell me you took one...”

“Technically… I didn’t,” Seven chuckles, withering under the drone’s glare, “But… purely hypothetically… what would we do if one broke?”

“If one somehow broke on its own?” Six adds, his stare now burning holes in the twitching Seven.

“Nooooot exactly...”

Five pulls out a pistol from a holster around her chest and aims it between Seven’s eyes.

“Start speaking before I start shooting,” she says simply.

“Well, as things go… we kinda wanted to dig out the throne room area faster, and-”

“We?” Six rubs his temples, “I thought the boss gave us specific instructions to simply keep going and don’t do anything crazy.”

“Alright, I wanted to surprise the boss with the finished throne room when he came back, so I kinda pushed the drones a little too hard and I wanted them to use the dwarf equipment, and so I kinda summoned a demon to help us dig.”

“Wait, what was the last part?” Six’s jaw drops, “A demon?”

“Yeeeah,” Seven whistles innocently, “I messed up a little, and summoned Comfort instead, who didn’t take it well and… mumblemumble...”

“What?” hisses Five.

“I said she stole the big digger, drove it to the tunnel, and crashed it into the wall upon which I think the motor burned out… and the drill broke too, because, well, there’s a cave or room made of bedrock where our throne room is supposed to be.”

Granite, rather amused until now, frowns.

“The TX-3 drills are ridiculously expensive in rare materials, both the engine and the drill itself,” he says in a serious tone, “They are the fastest drilling devices we have, but digging through bedrock requires specialized equipment, not these,” he shakes his head, “I hate to say it, but we would require some compensation. Hard Reset and especially Hard Hat will be furious if the digger has to be scrapped.”

Six whimpers, and buries his face into his hooves. Five stands up, walks over to the freshly repaired target dummy, not made of bedrock this time but rather simple leather and gravel, and punches it several times. This being apparently not satisfactory, she pulls out her pistol and empties a full clip to the dummy’s head, each shot making Seven wince.

Two guards from outside the council room charge in, flamethrowers at the ready, and look around in confusion when they find nothing happening.

“OUT!” screams Six, “EVERYONE BUT GRANITE GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

“Sorry-” Five realizes that her weaponized outburst really didn’t help anything, and tries to apologize.

“Accepted,” hisses Six, “but get the hole out. I need to fix this, and I don’t need any hothead accidentally shooting anyone. And Seven, if you as much as show any drone a power drill, I’ll shove it up your urethra and set it to mulch!”

Without a word, Five walks to Seven, grabs him by his neck, and pulls him out of the council room as the two guards follow and close the door behind them.

Six whimpers again.

“Oh great… boss leaves us in charge and at this rate when he comes back we’ll be banished out of Brauheim...” he mumbles to himself.

“I sincerely doubt that,” Granite chuckles, “although I’m afraid I really can’t just let this slide. Losing the drill means a rather dramatic slowdown of our deep core mining operations. There are only five of those operational at the moment. Well, there were only five.”

“I know,” Six frowns, takes a deep breath, and looks Granite in the eyes, “Alright, boss wouldn’t use his dwarf king position to sweep this under a rug, he would admit his mistake and work on fixing this. How can we repay the broken drill, Granite? We don’t have anything to trade or money to pay with, so what can we do to fix this?”

He knows Granite won’t try to screw him over. The dwarf thinks for a moment, and then speaks up:

“The obvious option is for your hive to fulfill the task the digger was supposed to, which would require you to grab the deep core protective suits, and go digging, but as far as I know, you dig with your hooves, and the temperatures down there are too high.”

Six nods.

“I did some digging down there in a suit, I know how to shapeshift properly. Maybe this will be a good opportunity to teach the new drones something useful. And if Seven figures out some heat resistance magic or something, it might not be too bad,” he says, “Alright, Granite. I’ll gather everyone and tell them what we’re supposed to do. One of the infiltrators will accompany Hard Hat and relay to us the digging schedule. We can start in about an hour, is that okay?”

“I do believe so,” Granite gives Six an impressed look, “I’ll have a talk with Hard Hat and Hard Reset to figure out the exact scale of the needed work. Just send somepony here, and I’ll relay what I get,” when Six nods, Granite leaves.

Six just lays his forehead on the cool stone of the council table, and closes his eyes for a second.

“There are ranked infiltrators and warriors around, so damn it, why do I have to be the responsible one here?!” he grumbles.

There are two equine figures sitting silently by the pond in the center of the Canterlot castle garden maze, both wearing paladin armors and meditating cross-legged. Ten is completely focused on his breathing and gathering magic into his horn, faint tickling coursing through his whole body as his magic veins draw power from all over him. Bright Star is sitting opposite of him, presumably doing the same. Magic crackles between them, small sparks ionizing the air or making it wibble from sheer amount of concentrated power.

“-”

Bright Star feels the seesaw of energy tip, and gradually releases some of his held magic, which Ten mirrors, and both paladins open their eyes. The unicorn sees Ten’s ears flick and turn. Knowing that Ten’s hearing is significantly better than his, he asks:

“Is anything wrong?”

“Not exactly, I just can hear my guys,” with a smile, he mentally reaches around for hive links, and quickly finds Three and Eleven casually wandering around the maze, “We’re about to have company,” he stands up, and heads into the winding arboreal halls with Bright Star in tow.

Few moments later, Eleven walks from behind a corner, looks up, beams, and rushes towards Ten and Bright Star. Three, hovering above, clears the corner next, and waves at the two paladins.

“Oooh, did we find it?” a squeaky female voice is followed by Bubbles walking in the back, “Hey, mister Bright Star, mister Ten!” she darts forward when she spots the two currently busy with Elevens swarming around and hugging every huggable surface.

“Oh hello-” Bright Star snickers when Bubbles bounces at him with such speed that she grabs his neck armor with one foreleg and spins around his neck to land on his back, “Ooof, careful, Bubbles. I’m an old stallion after all.”

“What are you all doing here?” asks Ten, casually juggling three giggling Elevens as part of his practice.

“Boss, miss Gem, and miss One are busy on the bigwig business meeting, so Bubbles decided to show us around. We’ve scoured the whole castle gardens already,” explains Three, “Two disappeared somewhere, and I thought I sensed Cryo around, but I guess it was you, Ten.”

Ten furrows his brows, and shakes his head.

“Hmm, no. Cryo is around, her link is just really weak,” he starts walking ahead, “Let’s go find her.”

It doesn’t take long before the group of walking and in some cases riding equines find a huge pile of changeling snoring in the dead end of the maze.

“Oh my gosh it’s the huge barfing lady!” Bubbles starts poking Cryo all over.

“Wha- who?” the queen raises her head, and squints at Bubbles jumping around and smiling, “That’s a lot of teeth, I approve.”

“How did you end up sleeping here?” asks Three when Cryo sits up much to the amazement of Bubbles still darting around her.

“Little beard said she had something to do, so I wandered around and ended up here,” Cryo shrugs, “This winding bush is confusing...”

“You’re even bigger up close...” Bubbles pokes a leg through a hole in Cryo’s foreleg.

The queen raises her foreleg with Bubbles still attached. The demonette salutes, hanging by one leg.

“What’s this little beard with teeth?”

“I’m Bubbles, nice to meet you! And I’m not beard, I’m half demon, half pony. Well, not exactly half, more part pony, part demon, part a lot of stuff I can’t recall. I can bark too. Woof!”

“Huh.” Cryo sniffs Bubbles and, seemingly satisfied with the result, puts her on her head. Bubbles grabs Cryo’s horn for stability, and enjoys looking down at usually bigger Bright Star.

“Oh,” Three smacks his forehead, “Hey, Bubbles, can you cover your ears for a moment? I need to tell mister Bright Star something secret.”

“Sure!” she folds her big ears down and puts her claws on them, “Done.”

“Good,” Three lowers his voice, “Mister Granite said not to mention ‘the little guys’ under any circumstances.”

“Got it,” Bright Star and Ten nod.

“Who are the little guys?” asks Bubbles immediately, ears still folded and covered.

“Hey, I asked you not to listen!” Three gives Bubbles a pouty stare.

“No, you told me to cover my ears. It’s not my fault I can hear you anyway,” Bubbles uncovers her ears and folds her forelegs on her chest, still holding Cryo’s horn with her hind legs.

“Wooow, you’re so smart! I didn’t think of that. Please don’t tell boss I screwed up like this,” Three frowns.

“It’s a diplomatic thing, Bubbles,” Bright Star explains, “No one is supposed to know, so keep this to yourself.”

“Mouth sealed!” Bubbles makes a zipping motion with her foreleg, “It’s not like I know anything anyway.”

Cryo yawns, which makes Bubbles jump down. Three flies down to her, and hugs her.

“Thanks for being a good sport about this.”

Elevens circle around the two, and Ten quickly realizes why. To his changeling eyes, both Bubbles and Three look like two little love-filled suns of pure happiness.

His horn flashes. A free refill is a free refill.

Finally, the first day is over.

Walking out of the summit room, I shake my head. My suspicion about the event being wildly similar to council meetings in Brauheim proved correct quickly, although this actually felt impactful. No toothbrush hardness arguments, allowed colors of hoof polish, or braids in beards. This was big - migration limits, military support, relief aid… and pretty much nothing about us, really.

We spent most of our time just listening and taking in information about the current state of the world. From what I gather, there’s peace pretty much everywhere. Some zebra countries aren’t exactly friendly with each other, and states loosely tied to the Griffone Empire to the east often take over each other’s border fortresses, but no one is openly fighting anyone.

Gem hides a notepad filled with details she didn’t want to store in the hive mind into her saddlebag, and looks at groaning One who leans against me. I can feel the echo of her splitting headache, and her brooding mood.

“Are you okay, One?” I nuzzle her cheek.

“I didn’t screw anything up, did I?” she mumbles.

“No, you did well.”

“...wohoo...” she cheers quietly, and hisses at a fresh stab of pain.

Her headache is nothing physical, so it just must have been too much for her - too much new information to make sense of, too many things to be careful and wary of not to make a diplomatic misstep. Gem tried to answer in her stead as often as she could, which only served to make One more miserable, although I knew she was grateful not to have to talk about our ties to minotaurs or anything big.

“Let’s get you to our room. I think we all deserve some peace and quiet after today,” I say. Mentally, I add, “Everyone, how are things?”

“We did maintenance on Cryo!” announces Three, “Bubbles even braided her mane.”

Uhhh… what?

“What do you mean by maintenance and who is Bubbles?”

“We cleaned her all over since Two was busy. Bubbles even brought her shampoo. It was for dogs, but it made Cryo’s mane and tail really shiny. She looks like a crystal pony now… well, she looked like one for a while before she fell asleep on the lawn again,” Three’s report continues, “Oh, and we met Ten and mister Bright Star who know Bubbles from some city called Manehattan. Then they played fetch, which I didn’t join because I was being all serious and kept an eye on things.”

His talent at saying everything while explaining nothing is uncanny. I take a peek into Three’s mind for anything Bubbles-related, and receive a good image of a rather strange semi-equine mare with a smile that Comfort would shudder at. Everything in Three’s mind screams ‘friend’ about her, so I leave it be.

“I could use you here. One isn’t feeling well,” maybe our little healing talisman will help even though One isn’t drained or exactly hurt.

“I’ve got a better idea, boss! I’ll bring Bubbles too. You’ll like her.”

Well… I suppose it can’t hurt?

Suddenly, a mass of information flows into the hive mind which makes me blink. It’s an updated map of the castle, now including Royal Guard recruit barracks by the northern wall of the castle, a workshop near the southern city walls, garden maze, and full garden as well including everything I could know if I walked through the places myself. On top of that, the map contains hotspots of magic spread around the castle, although their meaning is still unknown. And finally, it includes common hiding spots on the roof for Royal Guards observing the ground, ground patrol routes, occupants of the guest rooms, and pegasi flight paths.

“A little update on how this place works,” says Two, and I can practically feel her smug grin, “I had to unload Cryo somewhere safe, but I think my exploration was worth it.”

“Wow… that’s quite the attention to detail,” Gem herself adds approvingly, “I didn’t find the magic sources, though. Well spotted.”

“Any idea what those are?” I ask.

“No, boss,” admits Two, “I can sense them thanks to spending time with Seven, but I don’t have his understanding of their complexity.”

“I can help there,” Gem takes a rather educated guess, “There are magic wards inside the castle which prevent unauthorized users from teleporting in and out as well as scrying or generally using any advanced magic. Royal Guards have to learn specific patterns to their spells in order to be able to use them within the walls of the castle.”

“Well done, Two. This could be crazy useful.”

“No problem, boss. When I’m in a situation in which I can’t fight my way out, I need to know EVERYTHING in order to avoid it in the first place. Infiltration one-oh-one.”

“Uhgg… I don’t mean to be annoying, but could you please keep it down?” One interrupts our conversation, “All this hive link communication isn’t helping my head, and since boss here is involved, I can’t cut myself off properly.”

“Yeah, I suppose I’ll ask a different question - any problems?”

A general chorus of ‘no’ is all I need to hear before I weaken my links to help One rest.

She leans against me, and slowly breathes out.

“Honey, I’ll just go lie down.”

“I’ll go fix you something for the headache, mom,” Gem pats her back, “I think I can make something that will work properly even on you,” she rushes off.

“Am I really too stupid for all that business talk?” muses One quietly, “I think my brain is protesting listening to problems I can’t punch my way out of. You, on the other hole, seemed right at home between all those diplomats. Owww,” she stops and clutches her head, “Must not use long words now, and this was just the first day...”

We reach our room where One lies down on the bed, buries her muzzle into a pillow, and I draw the curtains. It’s evening, but at this time of the year it’s still bright outside. Quiet knocking precedes Three, Eleven, and Bubbles walking in, the last one looking around hesitantly.

“Heya, boss!” Three greets me cheerfully, although in a slightly muted tone in respect to One. Bubbles pushes herself to her full almost-earthpony height, and salutes.

“Diplomatic greetings, king Beard.”

“You must be Bubbles,” I shake her foreleg, “Thank you for keeping Three and Eleven company throughout the day.”

“No problem,” she proudly puffs out her chest, “It was a lot of fun.”

“Hey, Bubbles, can you help me make miss One feel better?” Three pokes her.

“Huh, how? I’m not too medicine-y, and I don’t know much about you changelings,” she gives him and then the bed a quizzical look.

“Trust me on this,” Three flies onto the bed, followed by jumping Bubbles, and curls up by One’s head. A moment later, One’s leg wraps around him, “You’re really nice, so I thought that just being near miss One will make her feel better. This is totally diplomatic, isn’t it, boss?”

“I suppose so,” I shrug with a smirk.

“Awww,” Bubbles beams and hugs One’s back, “Diplomacy away!”

As she nuzzles One’s neck, I can see what Three meant. For some reason, Bubbles seems to love everyone indiscriminately, and while she isn’t the source of energy Three is, just her presence must be helping because One’s breathing is already slowing down.

“Sorry, honey, but can you leave me alone for a while? At this point my head aches just from your thinking.” I hear One’s weak voice.

“I’ll go take a walk and clear my head,” I say.

“Hey, king Beard,” whispers Bubbles, “Can you please tell sir Cromach that I won’t make the evening report since I’m here helping diplomacy-ing? He’s a big white griffon who can sometimes look scary, but he’s really nice. His office is on the third floor, and it has his name on it.”

“I’ll be outside the castle, but Eleven, you can do that, right? Everyone else is busy,” I say, opening the door.

“Sure thing, boss,” Elevens salute as one, and follow me out.

“Thanks, honey. Sorry for kicking you out like this,” mutters One.

“Don’t worry about it, just have a good rest for the second round tomorrow.”

“Holes, kill me now...”

Eleven splits up with me on the ground floor, waves me goodbye, and then looks around.

Now this... this is a mission that requires infiltratoring! Of course, he could simply go to the office and relay the message, but boss might get into trouble for not respecting ponies properly by sending someone as inexperienced as Eleven. This needs… subtlety.

An opportunity presents itself on the second floor where he finds a laundry basket outside the door filled with colored ponchos and a sombrero. Hah, now a real pony can relay the message. Of course, if he does things wrong, there might be the problem of him borrowing some clothes, but he’ll bring everything back in few minutes. Using Two’s observed patrol timings, he pretends to look out of the window, although five pairs of changelings standing on each other’s backs, one by each window of the hall totally don’t look suspicious at all with one sitting by the wall opposite of the desired laundry basket. As a pair of unicorn guards pass, Elevens quickly snatch the poncho and a hat, and form a new amalgamation of bodies. Two Elevens form each leg, two make up the body, and one with the big hat takes charge as the neck and head. It takes some serious coordination, but today was a treasure trove of experience regarding control already, and Eleven learned things about himself he didn’t know before having to flee from Bubbles. After few stumbling attempts, Eleven starts moving.

Yes, it does look like a marexican ghost is sliding along the floor, but it’s the thought that counts. Stairs prove an unexpected obstacle, although at this point Eleven has come too far to give up, and with some carefully timed hopping he finds himself on the third floor, confidently striding- gliding towards the office identified by both Two’s map and Bubbles’ description.

Okay, knocking is going to be a problem.

After a minute of thinking, Eleven fails to figure out a solution, so the two Elevens forming the right foreleg simply drop and knock normally before reassembling into a leg.

“Come in!” comes from the inside. Head Eleven frowns, and this time knocks the rim of his sombrero against the door.

The second attempt works, and the door opens, showing a white griffon almost a head taller than the Elevens even with the hat.

“Yeeeees?” the griffon’s eyes go wide, “How can I help you?”

“Yo soy muchachos Bubbles will not make the evening report because she’s helping boss Beard with a headache… sombreros,” head Eleven adds after a thought.

“Sorry, ambassador, I don’t speak Sponish,” the corner of Cromach’s beak twitches, “Can you bring an interpreter? Or if you don’t mind, I can ask one of the princesses to come, they can speak most of the delegates’ languages.”

“No no no,” instead of waving two Elevens that form the leg, top Eleven sticks his tiny legs through the neckhole of the poncho and waves them defensively in front of his face, “Bubbles is just helping-” says the right leg as Eleven’s concentration breaks, “-because miss One has a headache, so she-” and the right leg joins in, “-and Three decided on some hug treatment-” Eleven realizes what his torso just did, “Uh oh...”

“Well well well, changelings pretending to be a delegate reporting about my subordinate missing...” Cromach leans to the head Eleven who gulps down some drool, and grabs the sombrero.

“Aaaaaah!” ten changelings immediately scatter like a black wave, and start running down the hall. Unfortunately, the final one is still hanging by the chin from the strap of the sombrero, face to face with Cromach. Having no idea what to do, he smiles from ear to ear. That usually works either for making friends or scaring enemies away.

“Tell Bubbles I’ll be expecting her in the morning,” he boops the hanging changeling’s nose, and then slowly lowers him down to the floor.

Eleven bolts away, an effort quickly marred by the sombrero acting like a parachute behind his back and making him slide back on the floor. Others quickly rush over, untangle him, and all eleven of them flee from the griffon. Eleven can’t tell what’s so scary about him, other than the entire operation failing horribly, but there just is something wrong with seemingly friendly Cromach, something more than is visible, something horrifying.

I took a casual trip to the city walls and admired the scenery as darkness finally fell on Equestria. Strangely enough, night revealed a lot more from the land than the day, thanks to many lights dotting the landscape where I couldn’t see villages and settlements before.

Anyway, I’m finally back in my room, and I don’t feel tired at all after all the refreshing cold air outside. I don’t dare kiss One out of fear of waking her up again, although whatever Gem’s concoction was, it knocked One out like a light, so I just shapeshift my legs to walk silently on the carpet, turn the lights off, and leave again.

So, Three is with One and Bubbles, Eleven is with Cryo in the next room, Two has our third room for herself, Gem is with Ten and Bright Star in Bright Star’s estate, and I’m now aimlessly strolling through the upper floors of the castle which are a lot darker than the lower ones and decorated more with the motif of a moon rather than the solar decorations lower. It must be princess Luna’s floor or something. Even the guards look rather strange, mostly dark in color and wearing vastly different armor - midnight purple, jagged, and all in all scary. Oh yeah, and they are batty too - like pegasi but with sharp teeth, eyes with slit pupils, and leathery wings. The main difference, though, between them and the usual Royal Guard pegasi downstairs is that these guys often hang head-down by their hind legs from metal bars hidden in shadows by the ceiling. Weird, I tell you.

It must be late after midnight when I return to the second floor, everything is quiet, my eyes are finally closing on their own, and I chuckle when I see a Royal Guard propped against his spear and snoring.

Wait a minute…

Not just him. A diamond dog guard is sleeping curled up by one door, two zebras are sitting on the floor, their backs against the walls. Quite unusual for all these representatives to be basically unprotected.

“TWO!” I immediately connect to the first changeling who comes to mind.

“Wh- what- dad-? This again?” she mumbles in daze, and I sense a stab of fear from her, “I AM A DRONE AND I’M DIGGING A HOLE!” she starts screaming into my link, which washes away my sleepiness instantly.

“DIGGY DIGGY HOLE, DIGGY DIGGY HOLE!” I scream back, “Good thinking!”

“I’ll be right with you,” she says, and I hear a door slamming open and shut somewhere in the distance behind a corner, “Everyone is asleep! Do we call for help?”

“Last time, there was no help to call for,” I recall her map, “Can’t you sense where the magic is coming from? I think it’s somewhere in my hallway, but I can’t point it out.”

Two arrives, her short horn glowing.

“There’s a lot of magic everywhere around, but I think… Queen Novo’s room,” she immediately turns around and gallops back towards the room near the end of the hall. Two hippogriff guards are propped on their spears, heads drooped.

“Alright, let me do the unlocking,” a burning blade forms around my foreleg, and almost without any resistance I cut a triangle out of the door, and barge inside.

The room being dark means nothing, and I immediately spot the unconscious queen in her hippogriff form at the edge of the pool, sliding into the water with a stream of bubbles. Without thinking, I jump in, transform my hind legs into a fish tail, catch her limp body dropping deeper and deeper, and pull her out.

“She’s not breathing!”

“Gimme a second!” she presses her mouth to the queen’s beak, and breathes some air in.

“STEP AWAY FROM THE QUEEN!” we hear loud voice behind us, and realize that not only the hippogriff guards are fully awake, but that the sleep spell is gone, and princess Celestia is observing the situation.

“She’s not breathing!” I raise my voice.

“Step away, and we will sort it out,” says Celestia calmly. Two and I back off, which the two hippogriff guards use to dart past, and touch the queen’s forehead. She turns into a seapony and back, starting to groan and breathe.

Unfortunately, Novo points at me, grunts, and tries to shuffle backwards.

“No more… please...”

Well, shit.

Author's Notes:

I realized that while it's been only few chapters, as far as word count usually goes, we're already a third of the way in. Crazy.

6: Dishonored, deceased, and downright deadly.

“Step away from queen Novo,” repeats Celestia firmly.

“Look, we didn’t do anything-” Two raises her voice.

“Come over here, please.” the alicorn interrupts her.

“Come on, we won’t gain anything by antagonizing her,” I mentally poke Two.

“You can’t just fold like you always do! You’re a diplomatic guest and you know this is bullshit!” Two objects.

“Two, be quiet, please.”

I walk over to Celestia, with reluctant Two baring her teeth at anyone staring in tow.

“So, what now?” I ask, facing Celestia.

A yawn comes from the hallway, and the big, white griffon I saw at the mixer pushes past Celestia, clearly unbothered by either of us.

“Gee, a griffon is trying to sleep and now this...” grumbles Cromach, walking straight to Novo who has been moved to her bed. He pokes her few times, a green flash follows accompanied by the smell of ozone, and in the end he turns around, “Energy drain. I assume someone stole her divinity, although not completely.”

“Wait, you couldn’t sleep?” I blink, “How come? Everyone on the floor was out like a light, even I got almost knocked out.”

“Meh,” he just shrugs, “You try to sleep in an office chair with a head on your desk. I swear, the castle staff order those so that anyone trying to work will work under any circumstances.”

“I feel like you’re not taking this seriously,” Celestia frowns at the griffon.

“Not exactly, no. Hard to take something as minor as attack on a demigod royalty seriously after what I’ve been through,” he pokes my side, and in the same way as it did to Novo, green lightning spark makes me hiss and back off. At the same moment, Two snaps her jaws at Cromach’s outstretched foreleg, misses completely as he must have predicted it, and he flicks her ear with a talon, “Besides, if this guy did it then I’ll eat my own paw.”

“Ahem, with all due respect, sir,” a Royal Guard unicorn clears his throat and steps forward. Novo’s guest room is getting rather cramped by now, “We have received reports of changelings spying on this exact guest room earlier today, and even getting inside. Coupled with the fact that somepony we couldn’t track kept triggering changeling alarms all over the castle throughout the day, and king Beard as well as his retinue being the only new changeling guests this doesn’t bode well for them. Of course, changelings are energy eaters, and we’re ignoring the fact that queen Novo recognized him as the attacker.”

“Yeah, makes me wonder why...” Cromach rubs his chin.

The hippogriff guards approach us, and tap the butts of their spears against the floor.

“The queen is sleeping,” says the leading one in a hushed tone, “I would politely ask you to leave, all of you,” he looks meaningfully at Celestia who nods.

“Come,” she says quietly but firmly. A Royal Guard taps Two’s flank with his spear while Cromach points at the door. The griffon seems to be on my side, or at least on the side of common sense, so I don’t object although I can feel Two’s angry mental mumbling.

Outside, even more guards have gathered as well as some guests peeking from the closest rooms at the nighttime hubbub.

Celestia looks down at me standing there, surrounded by far too many armed ponies for comfort.

“Until the situation gets resolved, I have to ask you not to leave the castle,” she says.

“Deal,” I shrug.

“At least PRETEND you’re giving her something you don’t want to! Didn’t you learn ANYTHING about negotiating?” Two’s mental voice would be facehoofing if it could.

“I got as far as I did with honesty, Two, and it will carry me this time as well. Let Chrysalis lie and scheme her way out of things.”

“I am an infiltrator, I am YOUR infiltrator!” Two growls, “How can I help you when you do THIS?! Dad, if you want to play this the right way, immediately contact everyone who is asleep, and tell them to GTFO before the guards get them!”

“I will also require you to gather your retinue, who will be placed temporarily under arrest. For the peace of mind of all our other quests. I know you can contact them remotely, as a changeling.”

“WHAT?!” Two takes a step forward, and stops quickly when met with two spears aimed at her muzzle, “You can’t be serious.”

“This is only temporary,” Celestia adds.

“Dad, you can’t do this,” Two pleads, “I heard what happened the last time you were here.”

“We didn’t do anything this time, Two, and I’m pretty sure they know. As soon as queen Novo wakes up, we will sort this out.”

“And what if she insists you did it?” I hear Two grinding her teeth.

“I can’t have everyone in prison while the summit goes on,” I say out loud, trying to keep my cool, “If that happens, I may as well not attend at all.”

“Then pick a representative who-”

“One and Gem,” I say immediately. The strong one and the smart one.

“Ah, Gem,” Celestia nods, “I almost forgot about her. However, for the safety of our other guests, I’m afraid I can allow only one companion.”

“Okay, now she’s straight up just fucking with you, dad...”

“Then I want Gem with me. She knows all the diplomatic stuff better than anyone else.”

“As you wish,” she says, “However, I still require you to call your retinue. It will look much less… hostile if you do so than if Royal Guards wake them up.”

“Dad, no...”

“Everyone but Gem, come here!” I feel their links light up instantly as they wake up, “We’re in trouble, but stay calm.”

I share the memory of what happened and what’s currently going on with them while we wait. To my surprise, they feel more annoyed than worried.

“Meh, better a day in prison than on another meeting,” One shrugs, leaving the suite accompanied by Three and rather confused Bubbles.

“Awww, queen Novo was really nice,” sadness is practically dripping from Three’s link, “She needs 20 cc of hugs pronto! And the baddie needs to go to remedial friendship camp. What does cc mean… couple cuddles? Hmmm… that’s going to keep me awake all day in prison.”

“You’re really not bothered by someone CLEARLY conspiring against us?!” Two can’t believe the lax responses of everyone.

“Obviously, we are,” Gem joins in, “However, they’re most likely to imprison us in the castle dungeons and, well...”

“Been there, fled that, got the T-shirt… and the changelings,” One finishes the thought.

“Besides, it’s all a big misunderstanding,” Eleven adds his bit to the conversation, “Queen Novo wouldn’t teach me to swim properly if she wanted us jailed.”

“And escaping from the dungeons could actually be way easier than from the castle itself if need be,” Gem explains, “The boss and I will be in the most danger if this is some trick to get us. Still, I’m an equestrian citizen unlike the rest of you, so I’ve got the law on my side, and I know some really good mob lawyers. I mean, experts on law analysis-”

“Too late to save your good girl image, kiddo,” One snickers.

“And this, Two, is why you don’t piss everyone off immediately, and give yourself time to think,” I say, “Imagine how many more eyes we would have on us if we didn’t cooperate quietly. Sometimes, prison can be the safest place to be in.”

“I… I’m sorry, dad,” she sighs, “I didn’t mean to call you spineless...”

“You’re not the first nor the last, I assume.”

By now, everyone is cautiously walking towards us, and guards of all shapes and sizes are glaring at Cryo. She yawns, showing a mouth full of teeth, her fangs almost as long as Celestia’s horn each. Less courageous creatures back away. I swear, Cryo is way smarter than she lets on.

Bubbles sneaks around, and jumps on Cromach’s back, whispering something into his ear. The griffon shakes his head in response.

“So, here goes,” I say out loud just to pretend I didn’t tell them everything already through the hive mind. Let’s not reveal the details of we can do, “Queen Novo has been attacked, we’re the suspected party, and you’re to follow the guards quietly. I’m under house arrest until things are sorted out. Gem will be with me on the summit.”

“Alright, king,” One bows, keeping things official, “Let’s go, and let the guards figure it out. Quickly, if possible.”

After Royal Guards fasten suppressor rings onto the horns of everyone… and call for more when they run out thanks to Eleven, Gem and I are led off to our respective rooms, and the hive mind goes quiet.

It remains quiet only for a short while, though. Gem decides to sleep in my room in case of trouble, and pretty soon we’re both lying on the bed, eyes closed and pondering the situation.

“Greeeeat… and here was I thinking I could get some sleep,” I hear One complain. While I can’t connect to her completely due to the suppressor, it seems we can at least communicate.

“Seriously, what’s with the wailing and screaming?” Two joins in.

“What’s going on?” I ask, if only to see whether or not they can hear me.

“Someone’s really sad down here, boss,” Three explains, “Wait, you can hear us! We can hear you!”

“Yeah, the suppressors should be preventing that, and I can’t see what you see, but at least we can communicate like this. We must all be a lot stronger than we used to.”

“Would be a pretty pitiful state of affairs if we weren’t, after all we’ve been through,” comments One, “Anyway, things are like this - we’re split up in the cells, and there’s someone sobbing, groaning, and occasionally yelling outside.”

“I really wouldn’t expect castle dungeons to be a happy place,” says Gem.

“IMAGINE HOW AWESOME THAT WOULD BE!” Three squee’s, “We could make all the prisoners into friends and have a big reformation party! The guards and princess Celestia would be so surprised.”

“Huh, could be worth a shot on the off chance it would give her a heart attack,” One sneers, “Wait, can alicorns even have one, cheating three-in-one bastards that they are?”

I think it’s time for some royal orders here.

“Everyone, go to sleep. It’s been a long day, so let’s think about things when we’re well rested and calmer. Goodnight.”

Alright, so the good thing is that I can walk around the castle as much as I want, although I have to wear a bracelet which supposedly tracks my position and will trigger an alarm if I leave. Granted, when the guards put it on me earlier in the morning, it took all I had to resist the temptation to wave the hoof outside the window just to see what happens.

Aaaanyway, it turns out that Gem really isn’t bound by the same rules that I am, and that she’s free to go about her business as usual. Of course, she immediately noticed ponies following her when she did her experimental trip around upper Canterlot. Am I being overly optimistic if I think that Ten’s paladin status will mean he won’t be followed? Yes, I am.

After my morning walk, I return to my guest room, and I catch a blur from behind the window. Narrowing my eyes, I open it and look around. Nothing. It doesn’t take a genius to assume I’m being followed as well… for some strange reason since the bracelet is doing its job. Plus, someone must have known I wasn’t in the guest room.

Hmmm… planting evidence against me in the case of attack on queen Novo?

Since I have some six hours left before the second meeting, nothing is stopping me from scouring every inch of all our rooms for anything even remotely suspicious. Considering that I have experience of several damn good infiltrators at my disposal, it comes as a surprise and… to be honest… mild disappointment that I don’t find anything.

Oh well, it helps pass time until Gem returns and day two of the summit begins.

“What do you think is really going on?” asks Two with minimal expenditure of love.

“Wrong place, wrong time, I assume,” replies One, “Although someone spying on our empty room from the outside is suspicious.”

“I mean, why would someone attack first princess Cadance and then queen Novo? They don’t look like someone who would have a common enemy.”

“To be completely honest, I couldn’t care less. I’ve adopted the dwarven approach - as long as no one targets us, they can do whatever,” One shrugs inside her cell, “Of course, if someone as much as touches the boss, I’ll happily commit back-alley cosmetic surgery on them with a rusty butter knife.”

“That’s the thing, really, isn’t it?” Two sneers, “Everyone has been telling me that I can’t be there to solve all problems, so I need to think ahead to prevent them. And here we are, sitting locked up while dad and Gem are on the summit. We should be outside, trying to figure out who attacked Cadance and Novo, and proving that dad is innocent.”

“The second we escape, guards will start swarming around the boss,” One sighs, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I think I can take the suppressor off- AAAAAAAAAAAARHGGG!” Two’s scream can be heard both in the hive mind and the real world.

“Huh, the screaming stopped,” comments Cryo.

“I stopped trying to unscrew that damn thing from my horn...” groans Two.

“Not you, little beard. That loud crying from the other cell,” Cryo corrects her.

“Whoever was imprisoned there probably passed out,” says One, “Thank holes, actually. It was pretty annoying.”

“Or they’re dead,” Two goes straight to the radical conclusion, “And no one will know until they can smell the corpse from the outside. There hasn’t been anyone checking up on the prisoners since yesterday, and that was only one set of hoofsteps anyway.”

“Mmmmm...” whimpers Three.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” another scream resonates through the underground.

“Stop that, Two!” One snaps at her, “Only I might be able to take the suppressor off on my own. You’ll just fry yourself if you keep trying.”

“I refuse to sit here and wait until some nutjob attacks someone else, and dad gets blamed again,” Two pouts.

“Oops… I broke it,” they hear Cryo, “Uhhh… will boss beard have to pay for the ring thing or something?”

“What do you mean by ‘broke it’?” One physically leans backwards.

“Little beard figured out trying to unscrew it from one’s horn was a bad idea, so I was curious what would happen if I squeezed it, and I tried with my both hooves. It sort of broke… will I have to walk around Canterlot with another advertisement?”

“If you really crushed it, then certainly not,” snickers One, “Now sit there and don’t accidentally break the world.”

The lock of One’s cell door clicks.

“Wasn’t me!” says Cryo immediately.

“Okay, I take it that someone unlocked your door too?” asks Two, “Still think this is a coincidence?”

“Mhm,” Three agrees, and gasps as his door opens. Eleven’s head peeks inside, and another one rushes inside to give Three a hug, “Wait, did you do it, Eleven?”

“Nope, I just went out to look if someone was there, and there wasn’t,” explains Eleven, peeking into the cell of every changeling prisoner. Afterwards, he checks the next door which fails to open, “And it’s only us. Does it mean that the ponies realized we’re not the bad guys?”

“Okay, screw this! On unscrew in this case,” One grits her teeth, and starts unscrewing her suppressor. Gold lightning arcs through her and sears the entire cell as Eleven jumps out and closes the door again. With nothing more than groaning and seeing double, One eventually tosses the suppressor on the charred floor, “Eat this, Comfort! I can do this too now, and I don’t scream all the time like a little bitch.”

One rushes to Two’s cell, and sees Cryo’s gigantic forelegs clamp around Two’s horn. A moment of pressure later, the suppressor cracks and drops on the floor in pieces.

“What happened to staying put?” snickers Two while unscrewing the suppressors from Three and gathered Elevens.

One gives her a flat stare.

“Hey, honey,” she calls out to me, “the doors to our cells just unlocked on their own while none other did. Do you think we should stay put?”

“What?!” sitting at the meeting table, I exchange glances with Gem whose jaw drops a little, ”Of course not. Get the hole out of there, and figure out what’s going on. Gem and I will deal with whatever happens here.”

With a raised eyebrow, One gives Two a smug look.

“Yeah yeah...” Two rolls her eyes, “The sewer drains?” she asks.

“I’ll leave that up to you, but go quickly. Spread out, and regroup outside of Canterlot. If they added more alarms since last time, the ponies will know that you escaped and will likely chase you. I’d like to avoid fighting as much as possible. Pick a place and time I won’t know, and when you’re back together, figure out a way to proceed.”

“You heard the boss,” says One, “Get to shapeshifting. Each of you will take a different drain, and I’ll contact you when we’re down in the sewers. Close your links so that Chrysalis’ guards can’t sense us.”

With all the changelings in the dungeon hallway, it’s Three’s voice which stops the escape operation.

“I’m not going,” he says.

“You heard the boss’ orders,” One leans down to him. Three smiles at her in response.

“You should go, I’m not arguing that, but I’m useless at running… or at fighting. You know me, I’m much better at making sure ponies don’t see us as scary. I’ll stay here, in my cell, and explain what happened to the guards. I’ll tell them we don’t mean anything bad by this, but that we’re just worried. A gesture of good intentions can go a long way.”

“Deal, go!” I order.

“Honey, are you serious? Three could be in deadly danger,” One can’t believe her ears.

“Someone WANTS you to escape. My best guess is that there are more things happening at the same time. No one could have known that we would have stopped the attack in the Crystal Empire, and then one at Novo. I think someone is just using us accidentally getting in the spotlight to make ponies mad at changelings to gain some diplomatic advantage on the summit. This might throw a wrench into whatever plan is going on.”

“That’s a LOT of random guesswork, dad,” says Two, “Honestly.”

“Yep, so why are you still standing there, not shapeshifting and figuring things out? You do know that without the suppressors I can now see through you again, right?”

“We’ll be back with someone’s head, honey!” One points at the doors, and darts into her own cell. A moment later, all changelings are escaping through the various cell drains as rats or insects, all but Three who sits down inside his own, takes a deep breath, puts his suppressor back on, and listens.

The door to Cromach’s office opens, making the griffon currently sleeping in a let’s say… newly manually imported comfortable armchair with his hind legs on the table twitch and open one eye.

“What went wrong, Connie?” he mumbles.

“Sir, the changelings have escaped,” the unicorn salutes.

“All of them?” the serious message doesn’t faze the griffon in the slightest.

“King Beard is attending the summit, if it’s not a different changeling pretending to be him, and so is… I think Gem is her name? The equestrian citizen one,” Connie taps her hoof on the carpet, “Oh, and the small, glowing one remained in his cell.”

“Ah yes, the cotton candy one,” Cromach stretches his forelegs, and yawns.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not taking this seriously, sir?”

“Why should I?” he shrugs.

“Because it’s our job to protect the summit from dark forces, maybe? And I know you’re not a fan of princess Celestia, but what if the escaped lings attack somepony again?”

“They didn’t do it,” Cromach sighs, “Divinity reacts to divinity. I can feel Harmony’s mark on you, and you might eventually be able to sense my power. Funnily enough, I felt more divinity from the small infiltrator redhead than from Beard, and that was still nothing even compared to you. Whoever drained Novo must have escaped before Beard got into the guest room, or maybe they didn’t finish the job because Beard arrived.”

“Then why would the changelings escape?” Connie rolls her eyes, “Right right, the usual story narrative thing - if they know they’re not behind the attack, then they either want to figure out who is, or they just want to hide for a while. I suppose we can’t have them run around and punch random ponies until they find somepony who knows something by sheer luck...”

“Yep. Grab Anvil and Bubbles, and see what you can find.”

“Astray?”

Cromach clicks his beak, and shakes his head.

“How did the changelings escape?”

“That’s the weirdest thing. Their cells were all unlocked, suppressors damaged on the floor, or missing altogether, but the dungeon guards didn’t see anyone escape or go in through the only access route. And before you ask, there were no marks of changeling venom or magical influence on them.”

“The sewer drains then,” says Cromach, “Start under the castle and see if you can find something.”

“You still haven’t answered me why not take Astray as well.”

“Oh? I just want someone to sit on the summit instead of me. It bores me to no end, and I haven’t slept properly, that’s all… almost all, now with your report. I’ve got an idea. Plus, he doesn’t have the combat power of you or Anvil, and neither the tracking ability of Bubbles.”

“One last thing, sir...” Connie shifts her hooves, “Are you sure about this? It’s all guesswork.”

“Not entirely, Connie. I spent most of tonight and this morning talking to everyone. Novo said she saw red light and a tall, black figure who certainly might have been Beard, but it also might have been Luna, or Celestia painted black, or a hooded scarecrow with a lamp from the red light district, really. I also checked up on Chrysalis, who said that while changelings actually can drain divinity, it requires a special process and leaves marks she would easily sense, and she didn’t sense anything like that from Beard. Of course, because she’s a changeling too, no one really wanted to listen to her.”

“And you trust her?” Connie raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Chrysalis was Blaze’s good friend, and despite Shadowstep and her guys leaving her and joining Silver Sun, I haven’t had any problems with her. Pretty fun drunk too, although somewhat grabby.”

“You… went out drinking with… QUEEN Chrysalis?”

“Multiple times, actually,” Cromach says, carefree to the point which makes Connie’s eye twitch, “Though she has to transform into a pony to metabolize liquor, and to avoid press attention.”

“You need to take this more seriously!” Connie stomps her hoof.

“You need to get moving before the changelings escape too far,” the griffon winks at her, smirking.

“You’re just trying to make me mad in hopes this will lead to angry sex!”

“Guilty as charged,” Cromach shrugs, “Will it?”

“Of course it will! But first, I’ve got changelings to catch,” Connie rushes out, and slams the door behind her.

One finds herself staring at a cave-in.

She’s managed to get through the castle drains and escape into the old mining complex inside Canterlot mountain without being tracked, seen or heard, and after reaching the central hole leading from the top of Canterlot mountain all the way down to the underground mines, she’s found that a part of the ridge spiraling on the circumference collapsed at some point. This certainly wasn’t like that before.

Examining her mental map of the underground, she decides that from here she should hear the others approach, and enhances her ears.

Soon, the quiet pitter-patter of tiny hooves reaches her ears, and One…

...One’s jaw drops when less than Eleven-sized Cryo trots out of the tunnel mouth ahead, and sits down by One’s hooves.

“I’m stuck...” announces the queen in a high-pitched buzz.

Come to think of it, One realizes that she has never seen Cryo make any major changes to her body.

“Give me a second,” One concentrates, reaches into Cryo’s mind, and withdraws, “You know what? Nevermind. You’re too big for this tunnel in your real body, and we don’t know what else might collapse.”

The stoic azure queen just shrugs, sits down, examining her tiny hooves, and waits.

“I thought we decided not to use mental links-” they hear Two’s voice in their heads, and the infiltrator clears the same corner from which Cryo arrived. An ear-to-ear smile explodes on her face, and she literally pounces on the tiny queen, “OhmygoshyouaresosmallIwanttoeatyouupandsqueezeyouand- ouch!”

She actually does pick the queen up and tries to squeeze her, only to find out that she might be small, but has the density of a diamond which scratches Two’s chitin.

“Who’salittlebeardnow? Yesyouare!” Two keeps nuzzling Cryo’s muzzle, “I’m gonna carry you on my head like a little changeling hat!”

The queen seems to take offense with that, and with a simple stretch of her forelegs, she pries Two’s legs off of herself. Then she sits down, puts each tiny hoof under Two’s hind leg, and pushes. Two simply slides upwards, now being effortlessly held by the sitting changeling approximately one fifth of her size.

“I’m the biggest beard there is!” Cryo puts Two down, and crosses her forelegs on her chest in victory, “But I’m stuck like this...”

“I heard,” Two nods, “Anyway, I haven’t noticed anyone following me. How about you?”

“No, and I’ve been sitting here and listening for a while,” says One. Her ear twitches, “Eleven is here.”

The carefully trotting herd of changelings arrive, and one looks down over the edge into the depth.

“Don’t worry, we can carry you down no problem,” Two pats the nearest Eleven’s head.

“I have a better idea,” Eleven shakes one head, “Three was right. He’s not a fighter nor a runner, and it’s similar with me. I don’t have your stamina, and I would slow you down if you had to run away. I’m good at hiding, though, so I think I should stay here and keep an eye on the boss.”

“We can carry you, I mean it,” Two shrugs, “It doesn’t really drain us at all. You’re light.”

“You know, I’m actually for it,” One furrows her brows, “We won’t be running far, we can’t. At worst, we’ll end up in the forest around lower Canterlot and then we’ll go back. I can’t reach the boss from here, but if we have Eleven in the city, he might be able to act as a mental contact between us and the boss. All he needs is just to stay tucked away somewhere, invisible.”

One freezes when her ears pick up an echo of something she can’t identify.

“Someone is around. It could be just a maintenance pony, but I’m not risking anything. We’ll have to scatter again, because fighting is the last thing we want. Eleven, turn invisible and hide. Make your way somewhere safe,” she quickly points out three sewer exits on the hive mind map - one from the underground mine, one in lower Canterlot, and one on the bottom of upper Canterlot foundations. “Open your mind links once you’re outside, and shapeshift into ponies. We’ll group up. If you know you’re being followed, warn the rest and we’ll surprise anyone trailing you. Links off, lings move!”

Six limps out of the council room, head hung low in a picture of total misery. He yawns, and walks into the wall.

“Ah, damn it!” he mumbles and shakes his head. At least the bump made him wake up a little.

Five quietly passes him by, headed towards the nearest staircase up.

The drone sighs, trying to make some sense of the chaos inside his brain.

“Okay, council meeting’s over. Next up is Hard Reset’s class, then I need to check the progress on the new digger...” he mumbles to himself while walking through the Brauheim castle, “That gives me… two-ish hours to get some love, and five hours to sleep… four in the worst case, and then the magma digging. Right, right...”

Six is more summarizing things for himself than planning anything, because this is the third day of paying off the broken digger, and it’s been exhausting to say the least. But, thankfully, Seven hasn’t done any more damage, and Five has just been sitting in on the council meetings, listening and barely talking.

It sucks…

“I really shouldn’t have blown up on them like that.”

With one more sigh, Six gets ready for another filled day and night.

Two floors higher, Five enters the castle library without knocking, and her murderous glare immediately interrupts Seven’s complaint at someone breaking the silence of the place.

“We need to do something for Six,” she says firmly, ”You’re a stallion, broadly speaking, what do you guys like?”

“If you have to ask me about what would help Six, you’ve been doing something really wrong for the past two years. You’re the one sleeping with him,” Seven shrugs.

“Is that all you can think about?” Five rolls her eyes.

“I’m a changeling who spends most of his time studying magic alone in the library. I need love or lust or anything companion-y. Why aren’t you feeding Six so that he isn’t passing out whenever he blinks?”

“I AM!” Five barks at him, “Whenever he’s asleep, I’m there to transfer what I got earlier. The problem is that he’s a drone, and he simply doesn’t have the capacity to keep up with this pace he set for himself. This cycle of refilling and exhausting himself is physically hurting him.”

“How did the boss do it?” asks Seven.

“He’s a king, not a drone.”

“I mean before he was a king.”

“From what I know, he mostly just lay hidden out of sight and ordered everyone around,” Five shrugs.

“Aaaand we can’t have Six do it like that because…?”

“Because both of us are braindead when it comes to the council meetings, we have all four hooves left when it comes to digging, and don’t even get me started on attending Hard Reset’s tech classes. I was there once, fell asleep, and accidentally swallowed a wrench. Don’t ask how that happened,” Five raises her hoof, “And if we tried to just be the proxy for him to listen through, it would only drain him even worse.”

“Are we really that useless?” Seven taps his hoof on the table, and closes the book in front of him, “I mean, even the hundred-numbered drones are at least doing the digging.”

Five slumps into an armchair next to Seven’s.

“We are… specialists,” she says slowly, “And right now, the hive isn’t in a position to use our skills.”

“This can’t be right,” Seven frowns, “You’re the top brawn and I’m the top brain here right now. We must be able to figure something out. After all, this is a challenge, and this situation threatens the hive in a way. What if we think about it like this - Six being exhausted to the point of passing out or making mistakes in decisions is our enemy.”

“Hard to punch an abstract concept, Seven...” Five crosses her forelegs on her chest.

“Every enemy is vulnerable, and if your speciality is physical attack, we just need to figure out where to punch, metaphorically.”

“I can punch you perfectly literally if you don’t start making sense.”

“Listen, threatening me won’t help you, so how about you shove a hoof an inch deeper into your mouth whenever you feel the need to punch me.”

“And what do I do after my foreleg comes out of my ass?”

“Hoof in!” Seven scowls at her.

“Mmmmph...” Five actually does it.

“Now, you can either help his body recover, or help him fight stress by making him forget about what happened during the day and avoid thinking about the same routine waiting for him the next day,” Seven has slipped into his academical tone, stood up, and is pacing around, “The first idea would mean a massage that works on changelings and, to be honest, I don’t have any reference material for that. Of course, you are free to rub Six all over as much as you want, it just won’t help the muscle regeneration.”

“Can I shove a spiked hoof up your asshole now, or will it cause brain damage?” asks Five, “Six is a drone. He’s used to physical work. I don’t think that’s what’s draining him.”

“That’s where number two comes in,” Seven ignores her insult.

“No, ass is where number two comes o-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” a flying book smacks Five’s head, “If this is about mental pressure, then it’s stress, and as I said, you need to make his time off worth it, make him forget about everything for a while. Now, how does the sphincter of this operation do that?”

“Whuh?”

“Sphincter is a muscle keeping the asshole shut. I think it fits you,” Seven gives now fuming Five a smug glance.

“A roll in the hay comes to mind,” Five says after a moment of thought.

“And we’re back where we started,” Seven sighs, “You need to make it special if you can’t come up with anything else. Have you thought about… lingerie, oils… I don’t know, something that’s not that rough, acrobatic nonsense One does to the boss? Something gentle but captivating? Think, muscle. Figuring out how to do this is on you. I don’t know what Six likes.”

That hits Five like a bullet.

“...neither do I...” she breathes out, “We just always… you know… just did it. When we spent time together, I was doing my stuff and he… was around, that’s all. Happy to be there.”

Seven rolls his eyes.

“Alright, are you willing to risk your relationship for this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That you need to start trying stuff out. Go buy some sexy lingerie, dance for him tonight. If it fails, we’ll try to figure out something else tomorrow. And so on and so on. It’ll be hit and miss, and some things might make it only worse, but if we do nothing, it will get only worse. Got it?”

Five nods.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got some bits from when I subbed on guard shifts-”

“No need,” Seven’s horn flashes, and a half open bag of gold coins appears on the table, “Take this. It’s from the castle treasury.”

“You do realize we’re currently paying off a digger. We can’t add to that.”

“The dwarves won’t notice. The digger was filled with electronics, effort, and rare materials. This is just gold, already in coins so not the industrial kind. This doesn’t count.”

Five decides not to argue with that logic, and grabs the bag.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“And I’ll switch up my reading material a little just in case we need a plan B.”

“How likely is that we’ll need one?”

“You’re his marefriend who knows nothing about him and I’m… me. Take a wild guess,” Seven gives her a flat glare. With another sigh to add to her collection, Five leaves the library.

White lace stockings, a thong, and a soft, silk corset adorning her body. The one and only crystallized rose tucked behind her ear. Her tail tied into a loop to show off her tight butt. Faint white lipstick, and hoof polish lightly contrasting with her black chitin.

Feeling ready, Five enters Six’s room in the castle without knocking and with soft swaying of her hips. The drone looks up from a book he’s reading, and gives Five a worn out but heartfelt smile.

“You look great, Five. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing big, really,” she saunters over to him, “I thought you could use something or someone to take your mind off of things.”

“Heh,” Six chuckles, “To be honest, I could use something to keep my mind on things. I could barely focus on the engineering lecture today, so I’m trying to catch up instead of running around and hunting for love. Speaking of which… umm… could I get a little refill?” he waves his hooves in front of himself, “It’s okay if you don’t want to-”

Five presses her lips to his, and Six feels love flowing through him like cold, refreshing water. Sadly, it doesn’t help the chaos inside his head nor does it wash away the numb pain behind his eyes. Five breaks the kiss, and closes Six’s book.

“You need rest,” she nods to the bed, “Come on, let me dance for you a little. You might want to see how I look under these,” she runs her hoof down her corset, an winks at him.

“I see you every day without clothes. Not that these cover much.”

“Not the point...” Five flicks his face with her tied tail as she walks to the bed, “Forget about everything tonight, and think only of me.”

“Five, I need to plan everything for tomorrow and get some rest before I go digging with the other drones-”

“Why can’t you leave it to them, and focus on being in charge?” Five slumps a little, her vaguely erotic display clearly failing.

“Because boss wouldn’t do that. He leads by example. He wouldn’t just tell others what to do...” Six recalls the stories about boss’ earlier misadventures, “I mean again. And even that was out of necessity. I want him to be proud of us when he comes back.”

At this point, Five has literally no clue what to say, so she opts for a cheesy:

“That sense of duty is making me so hot!”

Six sits down on the bed, which Five uses to resume her plan, and pushes him on his back.

“Now relax,” Five starts swaying around and stretching, giving Six an eyeful of her toned body, “and enjoy.”

She does her best.

For someone who has never done anything like this before, it’s actually pretty passable.

And after some five minutes, she kick off her thong, and with her hind legs spread, she cranes her neck down to look between them at Six on the bed.

He’s snoring, spread-eagle, with a thin string of green drool staining the pillow.

Five ponders punching something within reach, but quickly comes to the conclusion that doing so might wake Six up. In the end, she picks all her clothes up, and with utmost care she leaves. The dwarf guard in the hallway chokes quietly and does his best not to stare at a changeling putting on a set of clothes designed to make any stallion boil. Five doesn’t bother telling him that she can feel his lust, and keeps going with a short show. This way, at least someone will enjoy the damn set she’s wearing.

Short time later, she finds herself in the library again. Seven looks up from a fresh stack of books on his table, sees Five’s frown, and sighs:

“Didn’t go as planned?”

“He fell asleep ten seconds after I started dancing and stripping,” she immediately raises her hoof, “And keep all comments about me being boring to yourself.”

“Well… you did help him relax,” Seven can’t help himself.

“And a prime candidate for today’s braining is…?” Five cracks her hooves.

“Now now, I’ve come up with something that could balance out your un-sexiness,” he taps a book in front of him, “Since I accidentally summoned Comfort to do digging, I think I’ve figured out the principle of the summoning and contract. I can perform a ritual that will summon a succubus who won’t just wildly bang Six, but who will do a show like you tried to… only well, you know. Then she will be bound to give him a massage or something, and apply mental pressure to send him to proper, relaxing sleep.”

“And are you sure that’s what’s going to happen?” Five has her doubts at this point, rightfully so.

“Look,” Seven rubs his temples, “I… there are no actual spells here in this library. I don’t know how to explain it to you… how to tell you in what way I understand things. I don’t know an incantation and a guide to create the proper flow of magic to cause a desired effect hundred percent of the time. The voice that taught me… changed me… I understand magic on such fundamental level that I… I can create almost any effects that I want, but I don’t have the high level guidance others learn by, because dwarves don’t use magic. However, they understand energy manipulation. Not just simple things like electricity or heat, but actual magic flow, ley lines, and even divine power. They researched matter as a function of energy, so the reality we live in and others are just different combinations of energies. I have access to some of that knowledge, and the weird… analysis voice inside my head. I have to figure out what I’m doing on my own, not just repeat a set of steps.”

“So you aren’t sure that succubus thing is going to happen,” is what Five takes from that statement.

Seven narrows his eyes, and slowly breathes out. She can’t understand, and that’s okay. They’re both here to help.

“No, I’m sure I can make it happen, but I’m not sure I can make it happen hundred percent of the time. I can do the summoning right as long as I remain focused, but just in case… go get your shotgun, will you?”

“I really don’t want to wake Six up, even for this.”

“It will be worth it, and I’ll cast a sound dampening spell on him so that in case you need to shoot something he doesn’t wake up. I’ll call a succubus with the right set of skills to do what we can’t. At worst, the summoning will fail because no one like that exists, and we just quietly clear out. How about that?”

“Fine, I’ll hop off to the castle armory. Don’t start the summoning without me,” Five trots away.

When she’s back at Six’s room, the drone is still fast asleep, Seven has drawn a chalk summoning circle on the carpet which someone will have to clean up later, and Five’s shotgun is firmly on a belt around her chest.

“Let’s do it,” she says quietly despite there being no need to due to Seven’s sound dampening spell.

Seven’s horn starts glowing. The ritual drags on as all that seems to be going on is the infiltrator walking back and forth with his eyes closed, and eventually an equine figure appears inside the circle, and looks around.

Thankfully, it’s not Comfort this time. Actually, the succubus is slightly chubby, dark purple with leathery wings, and a long mane glowing green in tune with her eyes. Even to paranoid Five, she looks quiet… cuddly. She could just hug her, let her wings wrap around Five’s head and relax in the comfortable embrace-

Five bites her lip to wake herself from the instant daze.

“What an interesting contract,” the succubus’ deep voice drips like honey, “I must admit I haven’t been called for something like this in my entire existence. For someone else on top of that.”

“Can you do what’s asked of you?” asks Seven formally.

“Oh certainly,” she smiles at him and runs her foreleg on the barrier which sparkles at her touch, “The question is… can you do what you thought you could do?”

Five’s ears immediately perk up.

“What?” Seven tilts his head.

With a push of her hoof, the succubus leaves the summoning circle, much to Seven’s dropped jaw.

“The circle protects you from me, and makes me obey you, but if this is all for someone else,” she chuckles, “Then I serve him, don’t I?” she strokes sleeping Six’s head, “And he isn’t properly protected.”

Five’s buckshot hits the succubus’ wing to no effect.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, you almost hurt the little guy,” the succubus laughs out loud, and Six finally wakes up.

“Whuh?” he blinks and yawns, “Come on, guys. I need to sleep. Do you want to try magma mining for a shift too?”

“Hey, changeling,” the succubus pokes Six’s nose, “You’re mine!”

“Wait, whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-?!” a burning hole opens under Six, the succubus grabs him by his shoulders, and in an eruption of flames, they both disappear.

The room goes silent.

“Put up a sound dampening spell around the whole room,” Five’s voice is made of pure ice.

“Look, if you want to yell at me, that can wait-” Seven’s eyes are darting from Five to the now empty bed.

“Spell. Now.”

Seven’s horn flashes, and Five’s ears pop.

Seven can’t react at all when she shotguns his foreleg off at the shoulder at point blank range.

She grows claws and grabs the separated foreleg.

“Wait-” Seven crashes on the floor as Five hits his head so hard the leg breaks in two. Several more blows with the stump follow, leaving Seven in a quickly expanding pool of his blood.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you before you cause even more damage!” Five screams into his barely conscious face.

“I… maybe I can summon him back… or something...” he croaks.

Five grabs his broken muzzle and pulls him up, shaking but deep down enjoying the crunching of Seven’s twisted chitin and bones.

“No, think about it very carefully so that you don’t fuck up this time, and then send us after him.”

“Us…?” he croaks, the word barely recognizable.

“I think you need a lesson at working in stressful conditions,” Five throws his head back on the floor so hard he bounces and the blood splashes around, “I’ll go grab some more useful gear, and you’d better heal quickly, because I’ll be holding you by the neck all the time to make sure you finally pull your weight. I don’t care if that weight is just a head.”

Three is sitting inside his cell with his suppressor on. He can’t sense anyone anymore, but the dungeon is quiet and strangely peaceful. The previously screaming and gurgling guy must be sleeping.

“I am a drone and I’m sitting in jail, dank and chilly jail, dark and chilly jail,” he starts mumbling the tune of the drone song adjusted for the situation, “Kinda like home, actually.”

“Huh…?” he hears the clicking of the cell doors from the left. One by one, opening and closing. Is someone checking the cells? He didn’t hear anyone come in from the direction of the dungeon entrance.

Three shuffles backwards to the corner of his cell, and takes a deep breath. This is exactly why he stayed. The guards will be mad that the others left, but he’s here to explain the situation, and make sure the boss isn’t in trouble. That notion gives him courage, and he conjures up a little nervous but friendly smile.

As expected, his door opens soon. Three nearly swallows his tongue when he sees the unpleasantly familiar gold-rimmed armor of the paladin order. The hoofsteps enter the cell, and stop.

Courage, Three!

“Please, don’t be mad. The others left, because they were worried that we were being framed, so they decided to go figure out who is behind the attack. The boss doesn’t know where they are, and neither do I at this point. When they find out who hurt queen Novo, they’ll bring them back, and we’ll be friends again.”

At this point, Three finally looks up at the pony, and whimpers as his eyes go wide. After all, you can’t forget the last thing you see before you die… no matter if you get better afterwards.

Even someone as optimistic and hopeful as Three realizes they were all wrong. The idea of unlocking the cells wasn’t to let the changelings escape, it was to make the cells accessible from the outside.

“...so you are all still alive...” growls fully armored, armed, and strangely grey Star Trail.

Author's Notes:

- Not staying dead? Well two can play that game!
- Not fair, Two gets a Cryo hat. Now I want a micro Cryo hat.
- Well, you wanted a trip to Tartarus, you're getting a trip to Tartarus. (The second major on in the Library, actually.)
- I REALLY want a micro Cryo hat.

7: A long night

Star Trail advances on Three. He looks a lot different now. His mane is grey and withered, and his coat, while lighter in color, is grey and dusty as well. However, the fanatical fire of hatred in his eyes hasn’t changed in the slightest over the seven years. That’s all Three can see, because everything else is covered by a well-fitting paladin armor, and because Three’s eyes are fixated mostly on the sword hovering next to the unicorn.

“You will tell me where the others are, eventually. Spare me the effort of persuading you, and I might make your death quick,” he growls.

“I don’t know where they are,” Three inches by the wall away from him, “Boss told us to spread out specifically so that we didn’t know. And boss is on the big meeting with the princesses and everyone important.”

“Boss, boss!” he tries to call out mentally, but there’s no answer. Having the suppressor on without the presence of others is limiting his hive link communication too much.

“Let’s see if you keep spouting that without one or two legs!”

“Yaah!” Three jumps under Star Trail’s slashing sword, and manages to reach the other corner of the cell. Unfortunately, while Star Trail left the door open, he’s still somewhat between Three and freedom, “Why are you doing this?!” he squeaks, “The princesses don’t want us in prison anymore. Well, this was a misunderstanding, but changelings can live in Equestria now. Even bad mom isn’t an enemy anymore.”

“You may have pulled wool over everyone’s eyes, but I know what you parasites are after. You can’t be allowed into real society. If your head bug bitch calls, you will rip the throat of anyone nearby open.”

Three stands up, puffs his chest, glares into Star Trail’s eyes, and forces a wide smile for a moment.

“Most of us can’t even do that, see? Maybe nibble, but not rip anything. We don’t have the teeth for that,” Three frowns, a sight that would instantly obliterate any heart with any capacity for compassion, “And boss isn’t a bitch! Not like you, attacking a defenseless me! You’re not even a real paladin anymore. I’ve met three of those, and they were all nice! Besides, you don’t really want to kill me… again.”

“I do, you and all you insects. Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“Well, I mean, last time when you killed me, I got this sweet glowy body, and you got sent to jail and went all grey. Who knows what might happen the second time-”

Star Trail’s eye twitches, and he roars as his sword lights up with fire. Three’s legs start shaking, but he doesn’t stop staring straight into Star Trail’s eyes. Despite all hope for some final spark of compassion, the ex-paladin swings straight down, releasing a wave of fire that incinerates everything in front of him and scores a black scar into the wall in front of which Three used to be.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” used to be, because as soon as Star Trail’s sword moved, Three darted towards the door, and now disappears into the hall, yelling, “Someone help meeeeeeeeeeee!”

Star Trail grunts when he concludes that the small dusting of ashes isn’t Three, and bolts outside. Unfortunately for Three, the corridor is long and straight, giving Star Trail already gathering energy for a massive ball of fire a clear shot.

The burning projectile is completely unavoidable for the changeling. However, it moves only few pony lengths before exploding into a shower of sparks against a cell door freshly kicked open from the inside.

“What?” Star Trail narrows his eyes. Three, hearing the explosion, quickly looks backwards, and stops when he sees the figure almost tall enough to reach the ceiling, “Mister Astray?” he yelps.

“Get into the cell, Three. The main gate is locked anyway,” Astray quickly points to the cell he came out of. Three looks deeper into the hallway, then at Astray, and in the end opts to obey the order.

“Who and what are you?” hisses Star Trail. He blinks as he realizes the resemblance Astay’s armor bears to his own, “Did my princess initiate something like you to the paladin order?”

Astray looks at his bracer, and wraps his fingers around the unusually longer handle of his short sword.

“Nope, Silver Sun. And you’re under arrest for an attack on a diplomatic envoy. Are you coming quietly, or-”

Sparks fly as Star Trail’s sword with all his telekinetic might behind it clashes with Astray’s held in both hands, the satyr clearly ready for the attack. With a grunt, he directs the blade to the right, and spins around while reaching for a pistol on his belt. Star Trail’s sword hits the floor, and Astray fires three quick shots.

Golden barrier surrounds the ex-paladin’s body, but all three bullets go through, harmlessly bouncing off his chestplate with a clank clank clank. Astray uses the moment of surprise to stomp on the hovering longsword.

Star Trail’s horn glows with gathered magic for another ball of fire, but a quick shot from Astray makes the magic fail even though it only passes by the ex-paladin’s head.

“What is this?” he hisses, “Last warning. Get out of my way, hybrid, or suffer the fate of all changelings and their sympathizers.”

“I don’t know who you’re supposed to be, but you’re not touching Three-” three smaller fireballs materialize in front of Star Trail, hurtling towards Astray who shoots two down, but then his pistol only goes click, “Ah, miscounted.”

Astray blocks the last one with his gauntlet, hisses, and shakes his hand. Seeing his magic fail again, Star Trail charges at the satyr who backs off. That allows the unicorn to levitate his weapon up again, and swing wildly at Astray over and over.

Several successful blocks later, Astray is clear on the fact that Star Trail’s telekinesis is only a little stronger than he is. However, as unharmed as he is, he needs to reload to keep disrupting Star Trail’s magic. Fortunately, Star Trail has used his charge to regain his sword, and the following clash to back off again.

With the distance being in the ex-paladin’s favor, Astray quickly sheathes the sword in order to reload at least one bullet.

Star Trail’s horn lights up again, and the glow gradually envelops his whole body. Astray has no idea what the paladin is trying to do, so he just keeps reloading. Each successful bullet is one chance to deal with magic, so he needs all the options he can get.

The unicorn disappears with a flash. Astray instantly drops his pistol, and slams his back against the wall. A ray of gold light blasts past him, revealing that Star Trail hadn’t teleported, only charged at blinding speed directly at the satyr, horn reinforced with magic aimed straight ahead. The spell clearly allows the user to stop, because the following shockwave makes Astray brace while Star Trail comfortably turns around.

Telekinetic grip twists Astray’s leg backwards, making him drop on one knee and all fours. Not enough to make him panic as he grips his sword again, though.

“You...” growls Star Trail, walking towards Astray, slightly out of breath due to the intensity of the quick duel.

The satyr grins, and blindly slashes upwards. The edge of the sword nicks Star Trail’s horn, shortening it by a third. The unicorn instinctively stops, his eyes following the separated tip of his horn bouncing off of a wall. Astray doesn’t need more than two seconds to grab his sawed-off shotgun from his back.

Star Trail looks down into the barrel.

The echoing blast makes Three whimper inside the cell and crawl under the plank screwed into the wall serving as the bed.

Quicksilver projectiles aren’t the best at causing damage to non-magical targets. Their main advantage and purpose is to dispel magic and harm magical beings. However, at this range, shotgun is a shotgun.

Half of Star Trail’s head is missing, flesh sheared off and skull openly visible. His horn is slashed off at an unnatural angle. And yet, his remaining eye focuses on Astray, and the unicorn hisses:

“I will save my country from all you monsters if it’s the last thing I do.”

Crackling light gathers around his crippled horn, he grunts, and disappears with a bright golden flash, leaving the dungeons silent with the exception of Astray’s heavy breathing.

“Huh, didn’t think he’s be able to do that with half of his horn missing,” Astray croaks, and quickly locates and scoops the tip severed tip of the horn as evidence.

Smacking his forehead, he rushes back into the cell to check up on Three in case whoever the clearly undead unicorn was just teleported to finish the changeling off. He breathes a sigh of relief at Three being alive and shaking under the bed, the purple lights on his legs turning the cell into a disco.

The changeling is clearly beside himself with fear, quietly whimpering and stuck in his little world. Astray takes his gauntlets off so that the first thing Three feels isn’t steel, and reaches under the bed to pat the drone’s head.

Three’s jaws snap at his hand, and bite down.

“Ouch,” Astray pulls his hand back.

That makes Three realize what he did, and he whimpers, eyes wide:

“Sorry, sorry, sorry...”

“Come out,” Astray gives Three a reassuring smile, “The unicorn is gone.”

Three remains down there. Astray sighs, and pulls him out, this time without getting bitten. Three’s legs are shaking so hard he can’t even stand, so Astray just scoops him up into one hand, which Three uses to prop himself on the satyr’s shoulder.

“He almost killed me… again...” Three whimpers, “We did nothing bad. Why can’t we all just be friends…?”

“Again?” Astray raises an eyebrow, carrying Three to the exit from the dungeons. There’s no way he’d leave the drone in his cell again. Whatever is happening needs someone more experienced than he is, “Do you know who that unicorn was?”

Three just mumbles something he can’t make out, so he decides not to push it for now. After quickly explaining the situation to the dungeon guards outside, Astray heads up through the castle with Three pressed against his chest and forelegs wrapped around his neck.

Cromach looks up from a report he’s writing regarding the situation when the door to his office opens, and Astray walks in with that glowing drone quickly glancing his way and immediately trying to hide his muzzle into Astray’s armpit.

“Sir, we’ve got a problem,” Astray salutes with his free hand, “An undead unicorn just tried to kill Three here down in the dungeons.”

Cromach blinks several times, and the corner of his beak curls up.

“Come again?” contrary to the gravity of the statement, Cromach almost seems to be excited to hear that.

“I was hiding in the cell next to his like you told me to after the others escaped, and I heard commotion. It turned out that an undead unicorn in paladin armor was trying to kill him. I stepped in, cut part of the unicorn’s horn during a fight and shot half of his face off with a shotgun. Afterwards, he teleported away,” Astray pulls out the tip of the horn from a pouch, and puts it on Cromach’s desk, “I didn’t dare let Three down there alone anymore.”

“Did the guards let the paladin inside?” asks Cromach.

“No, sir. According to them, no one went in or out.”

“Hmmm… Novo gets attacked, changelings get blamed. Changelings get attacked in pony custody, ponies get blamed. All sides are confused and or angry,” Cromach frames the situation in a little different light, “Third party attempt at making sure the summit fails?”

“Nu uh...” mumbles Three.

“Did your armpit just contradict me?” Cromach smirks.

“What do you mean, Three?” Astray nudges the drone.

“It was the bad guy who killed me and miss Comfort years ago - Star Trail. Miss Gem said he got sent to prison for that.”

“Killed you?” Astray tilts his head.

“Mhm,” Three nods, “But both miss Comfort and I got better,” Three gasps, “We need to tell boss! He might be in danger.”

“If it’s about diplomatic chaos, having Beard dead would be contradictory,” muses Cromach.

“No!” Three shakes his head, “This guy wants us dead, he wants all changelings dead. Trust me, I know! Boss tried to make friends with him before, and I got steel poisoning.”

“Steel poisoning?”

“Knife through my skull,” Three shudders and taps his eye.

“Beard is currently attending the summit,” says Cromach, “He’s about as safe there as anyone can be. However, it can’t hurt to inform him. Astray, will you? He’ll obviously want to see Three, so take him here.”

“Sir, aren’t you bothered by Three here supposedly coming back from the dead?” Astray crosses his hands on his chest, feeling slightly irked at his boss’ approach.

“Only once?” Cromach shrugs, “I’m pretty sure Blaze had a season pass to Tartarus and back. Being dead isn’t as big a deal as most creatures think. Now shoo, you have a ruler to talk to. Leave Three here, I’ve got few things to ask.”

“One last thing, sir,” Astray doesn’t press the issue, “Does this mean king Beard is off the hook for the attack?”

“He never was on the hook in my head, but Celestia couldn’t be sure, and used him to placate the other guests. And no, this doesn’t mean anything for them. If anything happens, it’ll be the old - ‘changeling scheming blah blah blah, all part of their plan’. Plus, this doesn’t do anything against Novo’s testimony,” the griffon rolls his eyes.

“Alright, sir,” with a salute, Astray leaves.

Three, sitting on the carpet, looks up at the big griffon who according to Bubbles is called Cromach and is her boss.

“So, I take it that you know the pony who attacked you.”

“Yeah,” Three nods, “His name is, umm, Star Trail, and he used to be a paladin but went in jail for killing me and miss Comfort, ruining our home in Las Pegasus, and being overall not a nice pony. Princess Luna knows everything. She was in the old castle when it all happened, and helped us get away.”

Cromach pushes a button on his desk. Nothing happens for a while, and then a mare in a maid unicorn peeks inside after a knock.

“You called, sir?”

“Yes,” Cromach nods, “Ask princess Luna to come here, please. Yes, yes, I know she’s sleeping,” he raises a foreleg as the mare opens her mouth to object, “This is important.”

“Yes, sir,” the mare leaves, and Cromach drums his talons on his desk.

“Ummm...” Three raises a foreleg after some thought.

“Yes?”

“Who are you, mister?” he asks.

“My name is Cromach,” answers the griffon.

“I know that, Bubbles told me,” Three shakes his head, “I mean… you know the princesses by name, you know Bubbles, the servants know you, you were invited to the big meeting downstairs, you sent mister Astray to guard me, and you can just call for princess Luna to come. You’re special. I don’t know how, but you’re special.”

Three’s conspiratory tone and accusatory pointing hoof make Cromach snicker.

“Far from that, Three. I’ve just been through a lot in a rather short time.”

“Hmmm...” Three narrows his eyes, and pouts, not believing him in the slightest.

A loud pop interrupts him thinking about a different approach to the questions, and princess Luna appears in all her dark blue, starry glory, her tail completely covering Three.

“Sparkly!” the drone digs himself out of the hairy nebula, and beams at confused Luna staring at him, “Hello, princess.”

He’s not prepared at all for Luna to smile back and scoop him into a hug.

“You must be Three. Gem told me all about you and what happened to you,” Luna nuzzles him, and grabs his hoof, “Huh, and in Scream’s artificial body, just like she said.”

“Ahem, princess?” Cromach clears his throat to interrupt the princess’ poking, “I’ll give you Three to play with later, but you need to know that someone by the name Star Trail just tried to kill Three down in the dungeons.”

“WHAT?!” Luna bares her teeth at Cromach, and the window rattles at her voice, “Come with me!” with a flash of her horn and short falling feeling, their surroundings change to the dungeons. Three shuffles backwards to Cromach, and bumps into his foreleg. The griffon shoves him between his front legs.

The cell door opens at her touch, which makes her scowl.

“Yes, Star Trail is indeed gone,” she sighs, “That doesn’t bode well for… anything really. Alright, let’s head back,” in another flash, they reappear inside Cromach’s office.

“Can someone enlighten me about this?” Cromach sits down back behind his desk, “I’ve tried to gather as much information about Beard and his changelings since I arrived, but I must have missed this.”

“It was like this-” Three speaks up.

“With all due respect, Three, your storytelling is a bit too… chaotic for me. I’d like princess Luna to tell me the overall story, and then you can fill in the important details afterwards, okay?”

“Okay!” Three beams.

Luna takes a long breath, and starts talking:

“Beard’s hive is a group of changelings, some of who survived the invasion of Canterlot, and some who weren’t there in the first place,” Three waves his foreleg as Luna speaks, “They managed to infiltrate Canterlot after the invasion, seeking to figure out what happened to other changelings, and they eventually rescued some of the changelings held captive in the castle dungeons. Their actions didn’t remain unnoticed, and in the wake of the invasion, paladins were sent to deal with them.”

“I doubt that ‘deal’ means ‘to cut a deal’, right?” asks Cromach.

“Exactly. However, the changelings managed to escape Canterlot with the rescued prisoners, and they dropped a part of the mount Canterlot mining complex on the pursuers. From what I know, they escaped to the Castle of Two Sisters in the Everfree Forest, and began operations in Ponyville. After talking to the targets, the feeding operations were benign or in some cases even helpful.”

“Boss always said that if we wanted love, we should make ponies like us, not hate us. Makes sense, really,” adds Three.

“However, these operations were enough for the paladins to find the changeling base, and launch an attack, which ended with several paladins dead, the rest captured, and Star Trail, one of the paladins, killing Three here. On complete accident, Celestia, I, Twilight, Cadance, and Shining Armor visited the old castle on a… stress management exercise, which escalated in a big battle in which I got partially mind-controlled by one of the changelings.”

“Wait, these changelings fought three alicorns, and survived to tell the tale?”

“I didn’t,” Three reminds the griffon who pats his head.

“We had most of our power sealed for the exercise at the start, but we were forced to remove the seals and fight almost seriously, until I got surprised. Anyway, with me captive, the changelings escaped to Ponyville, and during the trip I got a good glimpse of what was really happening. They weren’t some Chrysalis’ operators, but a group caught in the crossfire. They let me go after boarding a train in Ponyville, trying to make me forget what happened, but that’s difficult to do to somepony whose mind is in the dream realm half of the time. Later, the paladins asked me what I remembered from captivity, and I sent them to Manehattan, hoping that they would cool down while I persuade my sister about what happened. Unfortunately, after being ‘taken over’ by changelings, I wasn’t exactly the best witness, and the paladins must have assumed I lied to them.In the meantime, the changelings made quite the spectacle in Las Pegasus, and the paladins found them again. Star Trail got a permission to use the alicorn amulet, citing the deaths of many paladins and my own defeat to persuade my sister. In the end, he, Bright Star, and one more now deceased paladin by the name Resolute attacked the changeling base in Las Pegasus. Bright Star came with the testimony of what really happened, sacrificing his paladin status in the process. Star Trail got jailed for murders and attack against what’s basically different kingdom, details aside, and for five years, all we had was Gem, Ten, and Bright Star here in Canterlot. However, soon after he was put in jail, Star Trail went… insane for some reason. He just kept screaming, locked into reliving a nightmare of his squire getting killed by a guard controlled by changelings. I couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t a spell or an illusion, it was some physical change of his brain.”

“So that was the screaming in the dungeons!” Three’s mouth forms an O of realization, “But it stopped before miss One and others ran away through the drains-” Three clamps his hoof over his mouth, giving Luna a guilty look.

“We know how they escaped,” Cromach rubs Three’s shoulder to calm him down.

“And you’re saying Star Trail got out of his cell, got cured from a condition neither I nor Celestia were able to fix, and attacked you?” Luna tilts her head.

“If by got cured you mean killed and reanimated, then yes,” Cromach narrows his eyes, seemingly deep in thought, “AND he somewhere got hold of full paladin gear AND he teleported out of the dungeons with half of his horn missing.”

“That’s impossible,” Luna shakes her head.

“Yep. Someone else is behind this, because if Star Trail was able to do this on his own, the changelings would be dead already,” says Cromach with absolute certainty.

“But why would somepony do this?”

“No idea. I suspect it’s connected to the attack on Novo, but we simply don’t have enough information at the moment. We’ll know more once Connie and others return with the escaped changelings. Hopefully, they won’t resist much, and arrive back here only slightly smooshed.”

“Hey, miss One is a great fighter!” Three looks up at Cromach’s chin, “Miss Cryo is super big and strong too, Eleven is quick, and Two is hella smart. Your guys should be worried about them, not the other way around, if they even find them.”

Cromach sighs.

“That’s what I’m scared of, Three. If it was only Bubbles and Anvil, it would probably be okay, but if they force Connie to go all out… well, did you see the chunk of Canterlot mountain missing near the top? She did that last year when she still couldn’t control her power.”

“I might be able to help,” Luna taps her hoof against the floor, “If any of the groups go to sleep, I could possibly contact them and tell them what’s going on. Well, probably not the changelings, but your group should be easier despite the magical protection on their equipment.”

“Give it a shot, please,” Cromach nods, “I’ll try to explain this to king Beard without too much yelling. Three’s going to help, right?” he pats Three’s head, who nods.

“Boss is smart. He’ll figure something out, he always does.”

“One can only hope,” smiles Cromach.

“Got anything?” asks Contradiction.

Anvil, holding a flashlight, examines her book of maps which now includes the blueprints of upper and lower Canterlot sewer system.

“Bubbles?“ she looks at the demonette with her nose pressed to the floor, and a disgusted expression etched on her face.

“I… think the minty trail I caught under the dungeons and in the mines is still around, but it’s drowned out by the nasty stuff everywhere. I can’t go faster, sorry,” she sounds genuinely remorseful, not sarcastic in the slightest, “I’m having real trouble not throwing up.”

“Take your time,” Anvil nods, “I doubt they’ll run far while their king is still in the castle, and I also doubt they’ll stay in the sewers, because they must know that we know how they escaped. Unless, of course-”

“Unless it’s the old we know that they know that we know that they know situation,” Connie nods, “The most important thing is whether or not we’re really following something related to the changelings or not.”

Bubbles shrugs.

“The huuuge changeling lady smelled super minty for some reason, and I think she doesn’t like sausages.”

Neither Anvil nor Connie have anything to say to that insightful comment, so they only exchange glances, and keep following the smaller equine.

Gem is furiously scribbling some notes while prince Rutherford of Yakyakistan is talking about wood shavings and splinters, which are for some reason a relevant export of his country. I guess they like breaking wood rather than building from it.

A rather tall figure which I can identify from Three’s memories as Astray silently approaches… me for some reason.

“Your Majesty,” he leans to my ear and whispers, “May I ask you to accompany me for a while? It’s important.”

“Gem, stay connected.”

“Sure thing, dad.”

“I assume they finally realized our guys escaped, and want to question me about it. This guy is one of the special forces called for this summit.”

“Stay safe. Our experiences with ‘special’ agents were never good.”

I follow Astray out of the ballroom, accompanied by hushed whispers of several delegates noticing that something is going on. He leads me to the third floor, and then to a spacious office with a white griffon sitting in an armchair behind a desk, and a-

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSS!”

-purple-glowing, black cannonball hits me, and clamps his forelegs around my neck.

“Three?” I stand there, stumped as the sobbing little drone is hanging on me, wiping snot on my chest, “Three, what’s wrong?”

“Astray here stopped an assassination attempt on Three,” says the griffon. Cromach, was it?

“WHAT?!” I snarl at him, unable to control myself. First all that nonsense with being accused of an attack myself, and now someone wanted to kill Three of all changelings?

“Someone by the name Star Trail broke into his cell, and tried to kill him. Astray was keeping an eye on the situation after the rest of your guys escaped, and stopped him.”

Aaaand now I see red.

“...what did you just fucking say…?” I hiss, tone suddenly cold as ice. Astray reaches for the sword on his belt, but Cromach just raises his foreleg and almost unnoticeably shakes his head, “A murderous nutjob in your custody got out, my family is on the run from you AND him now, and I’m still the one suspected to have attacked a foreign royal, are you kidding me?!” slowly breathing out, I pry Three off of me, and take his suppressor off. Too much information at once to deal with this nonsense.

Cromach makes a pyramid from his talons atop his desk, and nods.

“Yep, I think that sums it up pretty well.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?” my eye twitches, “This is your fault!”

“One - Star Trail’s escape certainly has nothing to do with me, because few days ago I had no clue who you were, and that there even was a different hive of changelings. Heck, fifteen minutes ago I had no idea who Star Trail was. Two - yes, that’s pretty much all I’m going to say until you calm down,” he raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for my next move.

“Were you born this annoying, or did you study?” I take a deep breath, and start patting Three’s head, mostly to help reassure me that he’s still there and that Star Trail didn’t kill him again, which is the only scenario my freaking out head can process right now.

To my surprise, the question only makes Cromach smirk.

“How diplomatic of you! Now, I wanted to ask you if you could contact the escaped changelings, and tell them to stay out of the castle, but somewhere within reach.”

“I can’t,” I shake my head, “They’re too far, and I specifically instructed them not to tell me where they would meet and what they would do, so that no one could use me to get to them.”

“Noble, but inconvenient to say the least. You see, my agents are currently trying to find them, and by find I mean ‘bring them here and not take no for an answer’.”

“Your agents are in for a surprise then,” I snicker.

“With all due respect, your Majesty-” Astray speaks up, but Cromach clears his throat and interrupts him.

“Is there any chance they will go quietly?” asks the griffon, “Or any way to get to them?”

“I already told you...” I shake my head. I mean, we could probably contact them after scouring Canterlot and possibly sensing a hive link, but I’m not telling that to whoever this guy is. For all I know, this could be just an elaborate trap, although Three isn’t faking or overreacting in the slightest, I know him well enough for that, “And why am I being grilled here? Would you go quietly if you knew that someone framed you, and the other side fell for it hook, line, and sinker? What would you do if you got wrongfully imprisoned, managed to escape, had your leader held hostage by a side that already previously tried to kill you?”

Cromach sighs, and rubs his temples.

“Yeeeeah, that’s what I was afraid of. I would pray that someone only gets beaten up, but I know the gods… and they don’t listen, or when they do, it makes you wish they didn’t.”

“So what now?” I ask, “I’m not letting Three get jailed again, not even to placate whatever diplomat from whatever damn part of the world.”

“Astray will protect him. he’s already dealt with Star Trail once. I’ll tell Celestia what happened. Telling her she screwed everything up is one of the few pleasures I have left,” he brightens up considerably, “Thankfully, it happens often enough to make an occasion out of it.”

“You’re not a fan of royalty, are you?” I tilt my head. The griffon does feel a lot more natural than all the stuffy diplomats and bigwigs.

“Luna’s alright. Twilight...” he shrugs, “she would be okay if she wasn’t such a kiss-ass of Sunbutt, but Celestia...” his expression darkens as he lowers his eyes for a moment, “I’ve been through living nightmares, and lost way too much because of her,” when he looks back at me again, his face looks thirty years older than the rest of him, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, it doesn’t take a genius.”

“Can you blame me?” I give him a flat stare.

“Not really,” he chuckles, “Anyway, the underlying point is that someone attacked and drained a divine being here inside the castle, and if it wasn’t for you scaring them off, things could have been way worse,” he covers his beak when he sees my ‘THAT IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SAY ALL THIS TIME!’ expression, “What’s worse, they also used a large scale suspended animation spell, and got out without triggering any alarm. That shouldn’t be possible.”

“The same thing happened to princess Cadance when we were leaving Crystal Empire,” I pull out my trump card, and grin in victory as I finally manage to see the griffon’s genuinely surprised face. Gotta take pleasure from what you can in a situation like this, “I suggest you ask her about it. We stopped it as well.”

“Someone is targeting bearers of alicorn levels of divine power then. Unusual, but hardly unique,” he taps his talon on his desk, “Anyway, return to the summit. If possible, please tell your guys to come back peacefully. As I said, Astray will protect Three, and we’ll see how things play out. We don’t have enough information to make a move yet.”

“Three, is that Astray guy trustworthy?”

“Oh yeah, he’s really nice. I think even mister Cromach means well.”

To be honest, was I expecting any other answer from Three?

“Okay, stay with him, but contact me if you think anything even remotely weird is going on.”

“Sure thing, boss! What do we do about the others, though? I mean, I saw Eleven play with Bubbles, and I don’t want any of them getting hurt.”

“We can’t do much, really. Let’s hope Cromach won’t be too mad when his agents come back to him a bit… chewed up.”

“Awww… poor Bubbly.”

The second day is over, and I’m sitting alone in my room, pondering things. I haven’t received any information regarding my guys being caught, nor did Three report to me anyone informing Astray or Cromach about the fate of his agents, so I’m assuming nothing has happened yet. Gem is gone, off to deal with her own business. I can vaguely sense her presence, so I’m assuming she’s somewhere in upper Canterlot, but I’m not about to intrude on her personal life unless completely necessary.

Thankfully, Star Trail hasn’t tried anything again after disappearing who knows where, but I’m not about to lie to myself that he’s gone for good. The thing is… can he be connected to the attacks on royalty? I doubt that. If there is something I know about him, it’s that he’s fanatically loyal to Equestria and Celestia. Could his involvement in things just be a coincidence?

I walk over to the bed, lie down on my back, and rub my temples.

Yes and no…

Damn, I should have asked when Star Trail escaped, but let’s take it from the top one more time. Royal get attacked, we get blamed and imprisoned. Our cells get mysteriously unlocked, and we escape, although in a different way. Hmmm… did we play right into someone’s hooves anyway? Maybe. So, everyone is busy keeping an eye on changelings, while the real attacker can move around the castle as they please. The thing is… Gem said there were active wards around the castle preventing outsiders from using complex magic or teleporting. Which means that whoever the attacker was, they can either bypass those wards, or…

...or they are from within the castle.

Star Trail would know about all that - sleep magic, wards, but why would he drain queen Novo and, the obvious hole in the theory, princess Cadance in the Crystal Empire?

Aaaaah! I just don’t know enough, and I don’t even know where to start looking for more information.

A resolute knock on the door makes me turn my head. It’s not one of my changelings.

“It’s open!” I call out. In the next moment, I sit up in surprise, “Princess Luna?”

“Good evening, king ‘Beard’,” the blue alicorn chuckles, entering and closing the door behind her, “Gem explained that little naming mishap to me.”

“What brings you here, your Highness?” I ask. While we haven’t really talked yet, everyone who met Luna considers her my ally, so if there’s someone I’m willing to trust right now, it’s her.

“Sadly, not a simple effort to get acquainted,” she frowns, “I have to ask you directly, did you attack queen Novo?”

“Come on, you can’t believe it-” I roll my eyes in frustration. How many times do I have to repeat it. Is Cromach the only creature here who knows this is complete bullshit?

“Answer, please,” she looks directly at me, “There is a reason for me asking like this.”

“No, I didn’t attack queen Novo,” I cross my forelegs on my chest.

“Where did your changelings escape to?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you intend to do now?”

“Either to figure out who framed me, or survive the summit and leave. To be completely honest, this isn’t my fight. Really.”

Luna nods, seemingly pleased with the answers.

“My connection to the dream realm allows me to sense when somepony is lying to me. It’s much less reliable with changelings, but I believe you.”

I see, so that’s why the direct questions.

“Alright, I won’t take it personally then.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she paces back and forth, thinking, “Now, how do we solve this?”

“Uhh, what?”

“You’re wrong about this not being your fight. The attack, or moreso the subsequent blaming of you, is putting pressure on the already fragile relationship between changelings and everyone else.”

“Look, I don’t know if you heard about it, but Star Trail is back and tried to kill Three again. My guys are being hunted by Cromach’s agents, whoever they are, and the only thing I really want right now is to be back at home, as far away from this damn place as possible. Seriously, I’m starting to think Canterlot is cursed.”

“Being the seat of alicorns and rulers of Equestria, it is like having a huge bullseye on our backs, yes,” she nods, “Heh, to be honest, I was hoping you all were lying to Cromach when you said you had no connection to the others.”

“You know about that?”

“Yes, he consulted me before Astray informed you. It seems that Star Trail escaped very recently, we checked his cell. He also asked me to contact his agents at night, if possible, and tell them to try and persuade your changelings to come quietly and cooperate. Unfortunately, dreamwalking doesn’t work well with everyone fully awake.”

“Huh, so he’s really on my side?” I tilt my head.

“He’s… difficult to assess right now, even for me. He’s been hurt so much that he cares about very little at this point, but I believe he’s still a force for good. To be completely accurate, he has zero reason or desire to harm you or your changelings if you really are innocent. Is that enough?”

“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for,” I sigh, “Oh, one last thing I don’t know if you know - princess Cadance was attacked before queen Novo in the same way, sleeping spell and everything. Watch your back, I’d hate to see you get hurt. Friends aren’t easy to come by, it seems.”

Luna furrows her brows.

“Hmmm… good to know. Thank you for that, although I must say that this means I have to cut our conversation short. I have ponies to talk to.”

“Good night, princess.”

“Stars protect you, king ‘Beard’.”

As she leaves, I lie back down.

“Boss, boss, boss, boss, boss!” I hear inside my head after few minutes. To my absolute shock, it’s not Three, but Eleven.

Please don’t tell me everything went wrong already.

“Eleven, where are you? What’s going on?”

“I’m in an alley, and there are ponies everywhere.”

Kill me now…

“I’m gonna need more info than that.”

“You said not to tell you any details.”

“You can tell me now. Things have changed a bit. Where are the others?”

“I dunno, boss. We split inside the big mountain,” he shows me the mental map of the mines with several spots marked, “That’s where miss One, Cryo, and Two planned to get out of Canterlot for a while. They’ll be back once they’re sure they aren’t being followed.”

Ah damn it!

“They ARE being followed, and I need them to come back without killing whoever is after them. Are you in range to contact them?”

“No, I’m not, boss.”

“Damn it, why are you in range of me then?”

“I figured out that I can’t keep up with them, so I decided to stay in the city in case you needed me. Don’t worry, I’m invisible. Oh, and the alley I’m in is near the castle quarter,” he shows his location on the Canterlot map, “ Well, do you need anything, boss?”

“Stay safe, and stay in touch. I’ll try to think of something.”

“IHATETHISSSSSS!” a different voice arrives inside my head, “Brakes! BRAAAAKEEESS!”

“Comfort?!”

“In the flesh-URK!”

I can feel an impact through the hive mind, and a quick look from her eyes shows her currently bouncing off of a white wall. The following dazed drop reveals that she hit the outer wall of upper Canterlot and is now hurtling towards the ground.

Flapping her wings, she eventually stabilizes herself.

“Okay, I really need to find someone who knows how to get out of Tartarus without summoning circles. Where is Scream when you need her…?”

“Comfort, I need help.”

“The best infiltrator in history, at your service, boss bug!” she salutes while flying back up towards upper Canterlot, “Unless I get called again, but I think I usually get at least few minutes between summonings. Seriously, it wasn’t this bad before Scream disappeared.”

I explain what happened.

For about five minutes, there’s a succubus hanging in the air at upper Canterlot wall height, gradually scowling more and more at nothing while at first her eye starts twitching, then she begins punching the air, tail whipping follows, and it all ends in grinding of teeth possibly audible all the way to Manehattan.

“You know… I’m starting to think that Chrysalis should have succeeded in the old invasion, BECAUSE THESE PONIES ARE TERMINALLY STUPID!”

“I tend to agree at this point, but right now I need you to find One, Cryo, and Two. If there’s someone who can do it then it’s you. Grab Eleven too. He’ll keep going if you get summoned. Three and I can’t leave the castle, but no one knows about Eleven.”

“Any idea where I should start?”

I share with her the marked sewer exits.

“They’ll either be in Canterlot or around. Tell them to get back immediately, and don’t kill anyone.”

“Hey, pile of hugs and bugs,” she mentally pokes Eleven, and marks an alley a short way away from the castle quarter, “Meet me there. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, miss One!” he answers, and before his link weakens, I hear a quiet, “Yay, my own mission!”

Heh, almost.

It indeed doesn’t take long, and Comfort, disguised as a changeling, lands in the target alley. In the gloom of the late, summer evening, she looks around as she hears hoofsteps.

A figure is slowly approaching her, wearing a trench coat, a fedora, and a pair of sunglasses. It’s gliding forward like a ghost, without actually moving its legs. Comfort facehoofs when it stops its eerie progress in front of her, and then smacks the side of its head.

The fedora, the sunglasses, and the hat drop on the ground, followed by top Eleven losing its balance and dragging the trench coat with him. The now uncovered remaining ten look up at Comfort. One of the ‘legs’ waves at her.

The head Eleven untangles himself from the coat, pouting at unimpressed Comfort.

“Trench coat and sunglasses in the middle of summer at night,” she shakes her head, “Where did you even get that?”

“I-”

“You know what? Ignorance is bliss,” she returns to her succubus form for broader back and bigger wings, “Hop on, all of you. Leave the clothes here for some lucky hobo.”

“They had a swimsuit too...” mumbles Eleven.

“Did whoever ‘they’ are have a burlap sack? Because if you don’t start getting on, I’m getting one and stuffing you all in it.”

“They did, actually,” head Eleven sticks his tongue out at Comfort. One Eleven grabs onto each Comfort’s leg, six manage to stuff themselves on her back, and the head one hops on her, well, head.

“Succubus airlines taking off,” with utmost care to get used to the new weight, Comfort flies into the air, lazily flapping her wings, “Now, where do we start? One of the guys should still be around upper Canterlot, so keep your link open.”

Over the next hour and a half, they circle around upper and lower Canterlot, finding nothing at first, but eventually catching a faint trace of Cryo’s link.

“It seems that they decided to meet somewhere in the forest instead of the city. I’d assume they know they’re being followed,” muses Comfort, “I think that if we circle around the base of the mountain, we’ll find them. Hold on, I’ll show you how non-changelings really fly.”

“Okay!” head Eleven grabs her horn tighter, “But can we at least go lower? I don’t think I like this...”

Comfort realizes that all the little legs are tightly clamped onto her, and sighs.

“Alright, we’ll hurry up... but slowly. And when I have time, we’ll work on your shapeshifting. Can’t have a non-flying changeling who dresses like a filly molester around.”

Suddenly, she feels a familiar pull grasping her whole being, and freezes for a second, which isn’t lost on Eleven.

“Aaaaaah!” his synchronized scream of all mouths cuts the night air.

“Crap crap crap crap, not now!” with a growl, Comfort heads straight down while she can still control herself, “I really need to find someone, anyone who knows how to resist these!”

Fire envelops her whole body, lighting up the darkness of the night and the trees around as she finally reaches near ground level.

“JUUUMP!” she yells at Eleven.

The short rain of changelings is cut short by fire finally devouring Comfort, leaving only dazed black buggy balls rolling on the ground and hitting trees in several unlucky cases.

Few minutes of uncoordinated walking around and few loud calls of ‘here!’, Elevens find each other despite the darkness and knowing nothing about the area. Eventually, the gathered herd of changelings scratch their heads as one, pondering their next move.

Based on the escape routes, One, Cryo, and Two could be anywhere around the base of the mountain at this point, but their eventual goal will be lower Canterlot no matter what. With that in mind, Eleven chooses not to go around the mountain the way Comfort already carried him partway, and instead he opts to go counter-clockwise to cover the rest.

An hour later, he hasn’t caught the faintest notion of any hive link, and he still hasn’t left the forest, making him finally realize the real sheer size of the area he needs to scout out.

This is going to take a while.

While Eleven’s run through the wood is quite the ordeal, it’s mini-Cryo who is having real trouble finding her way to the designated meeting spot. It’s not that she’s tired or threatened, having already beaten two very optimistic badgers and one boar unconscious. The problem is that everything is taking so needlessly long with her new size.

On the other hole, as she’s skittering along, she has enough time to think, completely unaware of the silent, rusty menace with huge teeth following her.

The beard, the beard was the key.

He researched black rocks in order to make a weapon of sorts, rocks that didn’t originate in this world, but appeared along with shadows eating everything - love, heat, light. Shadows easy to crush underhoof, and yet… scary even to her.

More rocks, more shadows to destroy in the north. Too many for changelings, too many for the tinies rebuilding after the war with the cursed… no, bad Cryo. Little beard is trying to make your thinking box work properly again. War with the… Twisted.

Big ones had to help, fearless even when faced with the swarms of shadows. Eventually, the shadows disappeared. Why? There were some weird ponies around. One had a big shovel, strong pony like Cryo.

And then… then…

The big shadow appeared, and no one knew what to do with it. They couldn’t destroy it, because it wasn’t of this world, and didn’t obey its rules. Not even the shovel worked. They could only lock it away.

In the end, beard disappeared without a trace along with the others.

Not much later, her hive found the machines, and with them their doom. Or was it…? The order of events from so long ago is too hard to remember at this point.

“Huh?” Cryo’s fragmented glimpses of memories scatter into the void when she bumps into a tree, and scrunches her muzzle, “What was I thinking about? Oh right, turning back into proper size!”

Awash with green fire, Cryo finds herself finally looking at the grass from her usual point of view high up, and casually kicks the tree which so rudely impeded her progress. It breaks and falls on her head, splintering one more time over it.

“Heh, boop this,” with a victorious smile, the unharmed queen resumes trotting towards the meeting spot at manyfold faster pace.

In a bush behind her, Bubbles stunned by the impact of the falling tree canopy tries to untangle herself from the twisted branches, and only watches with sadness as Cryo stomps away into the distance, leaving behind a corridor of crushed foliage.

“Hnnngh!” Bubbles manages to squeeze between two branches of her prison, sighs, and starts biting branch after branch while spitting out pieces of wood. When she’s done, Cryo is way gone. She sticks her tongue out in disgust, “Bleh,” looking at the devastated nature, she scratches her head, and starts quickly trotting along, “Well, at least she’s easier to track now.”

North, far far north, inside a tunnel of the temporarily not growing changeling hive glows a makeshift reverse summoning circle with a group of equine figures around, and a huge one barely fitting into the tunnel in the back. Five is wearing a fake beard for some reason. Why is the Silversmith war mech Stompy there is anyone’s guess. Anyone but Five’s.

“Drones, you know your shift schedule Six drafted, keep working to pay off the digger,” orders Five, standing in front of heavily chewed up Seven, “Infiltrators, you’re attending the council meetings as a group,” she says, looking at the skinny and tall duo among the gathered lings, “Warriors, one of you patrols the hive, the other hunts for love at all times.”

“Ahem,” Seven cautiously raises his foreleg and winces when putting the weight on his reattached one, “Five, the project?”

“Right!” rather energized Five taps her hoof against the floor, “One infiltrator on the meeting, one working on my plan then. When it’s ready, find a dwarf to give it a test ride. Granite might help you with that. Anything else?”

“No, Five,” a warrior in front shakes its head.

“Then leave before Seven screws this up too, and blows us all to pieces on accident.”

Everyone scampers away, leaving only Five, Seven, and Stompy around the summoning, resummoning, unsummoning or whateversummoning circle.

“It is going to work,” Seven sighs, “By the way, why did you want to make the circle right by the bedrock wall we failed to dig through?”

“Because judging by your track record, this can literally explode in our faces, and if it does, it might break the wall, and the drones will have easier time digging later. See? I intend to use all possible outcomes.”

“It won’t blow up, Five.”

“Let me remind you that last time you did something like this, it was to summon a helpful demon into this reality, and one of us ended in theirs. Now that we want to end in theirs, I’m still working with a fifty percent possibility of us ending in some happy realm filled with fairies and Threes, and fifty percent of kaboom.”

“And the result where we do end in Tartarus?”

“I suppose that can happen too,” Five shrugs, “And that’s why I have this,” she taps her long and full beard previously owned by Three, “Also to remind you that you need to learn how to enchant a bag instead of a beard of holding!”

“I didn’t exactly have much time to work with, and Three’s beard was highly magically malleable for some reason.”

“Well, as long as it doesn’t stop working halfway during the trip...” from her fake beard, Five pulls out a shotgun, One’s unbreakable sword, her own gatling laser turret, and in the end the Big Friendship Gun one by one.

Thankfully, with the help of Stompy, the dwarves managed to unbind the weapon from Three since its last use, and now it is her trump card.

Five shoves her foreleg deeper into the beard, and pulls out a rocket launcher.

“Huh, was wondering if that one got lost...”

Seven rolls his eyes.

“We don’t know if any of those will work on demons anyway. Divine or demonic beings are naturally heavily resistant to mundane attacks.”

“Then you’d better figure out an enchantment for bullets, rockets, flamethrower fuel, and a BFG plasma cell fast, or I’m throwing you at whatever tries to disembowel us.”

“If something eats me, no one else can get you, Stompy, and Six back home,” Seven backs away.

“I’m taking my chances of shooting my way out.”

“Look, I can see you’re still mad-”

“No, I’m still furious!” Five cuts him off, “Now start the ritual before… before...” she looks at the floor, and goes quiet for a heavy, desperate moment, “...before it’s too late, you idiot...” she breathes out.

“Alright, alright,” Seven closes his eyes, and his horn starts glowing, “Any last ideas, something we may have forgotten to take with us?”

“Not as far as I know,” Five pats her beard.

“All weapon systems fully operational,” Stompy agrees.

“Okay then, let’s go!” raising his voice, Seven sends a bolt of energy to the circle which lights up, and in a flash all three of them are gone.

Darkness lit only by the still smoldering and sputtering summoning circle burned into the stones goes quiet.

It doesn’t last long, however, as a strange, metallic, dragging noise disrupts the silence, getting closer and closer to the circle. Something big and heavy is approaching, one step, drag, or shove at a time. Only the faintest glow of a dying flashlight dims the darkness enough to reveal a figure larger than any of the changelings slowly making its way to the circle.

It stops when it gets to the center, and waits. Contrary to all logical thought, when nothing happens, it begins punching the ground with a metallic noise that makes sparks fly into the air.

After three sledgehammer-like hits, the circle lights up again, revealing a strange mesh of metal and charred feathers for only a fraction of a second before flames swallow it just like they did to the trio before.

Luna finds herself alone, surrounded by blackness of space lit only by the distant twinkling of bright stars. She’s standing on a plane made of concentric blue circles spreading into infinity. This place, no matter how wrong the term is for her current state of mind, is her personal hub of the dream realm, her meditative spot from where she can reach into the minds of the asleep.

Unfortunately, she hasn’t been able to reach any of the escaped changelings nor the Hoof of Fate members, which has to mean either that the chase is still on, or the mental protections of each of the targets are way too powerful to break through without possibly causing more harm than good.

Well, there is always the rest of the night. She just has to keep her mind open for any sign of them.

That kind of full awareness is what saves her.

The alicorn amulet around Star Trail’s neck glows blood red as he materializes behind the princess, and his flying sword leaving behind a red trail slashes straight at her neck. What the weapon hits, though, is an ornate, silver-decorated halberd appearing out of nowhere and expertly blocking the blow. He suddenly finds himself staring into the burning white eyes of the alicorn of the Night clad in full plate armor on which all the Nightguard armors are based.

When did she-?

Star Trail jumps backwards, but misjudges Luna’s speed and the reach of her extended weapon as the blade of her halberd slashes at his own neck. He has to block, and groans once again at Luna’s unexpected strength when the strike makes his sword fly away.

The princess advances at him, drawing magic all around into herself.

“An undead paladin who has stolen the alicorn amulet,” she growls, “Again. I know who you are, Star Trail.”

“Your deceit ends here, usurper!” Star Trail hisses back, his sword materializing again by his side, “Equestria is the land of the sun and ponies. You, Nightmare Moon, conspiring with bugs and griffons, will finally pay for your sins.”

“You are clearly insane,” Luna gives him a flat stare punctuated with a wide swing of her halberd which Star Trail blocks successfully this time, the crimson glow of the alicorn amulet enveloping him explaining why, “My sister has forgiven me my transgression, and we are working to bring the world together. Besides, if you think only I am a traitor and a murderer, you clearly don’t know my sister’s less recent history,” she taunts him. Granted, while Luna’s big sin stemmed from her own hurt ego and Nightmare’s possession, the pain Celestia caused over eons was more from her overprotectiveness and impulsiveness, but there was no way Star Trail would know that. To him and to most ponies, really, Celestia was this perfect motherly figure always keeping them safe.

“Shut your filthy mouth!” Star Trail lunges at her, his sword covering his movement with a barrage of blows. It’s only a distraction, though, as magic gathers in his horn, and lightning surges from it towards Luna. It hits her chestplate, and harmlessly arcs into the mostly invisible ground.

“I can’t blame your ignorance, fanatic,” she spins her halberd in the air, the butt hitting Star Trail’s chin so hard it makes him fly off backwards with a spin. Any normal pony’s spine would have snapped at the crushing hit, and so does Star Trail’s, but it doesn’t seem to bother him too much, as he jumps back on all fours, ready to defend himself again, “I, however, can’t tolerate my own lack of knowledge. How did you get into my dream realm?”

“As if I would tell you!” Star Trail’s sword flashes, and releases a crescent wave of red energy at Luna. She teleports- no, he has to correct himself as he reflexively turns around with his sword raised. She simply dashed behind him much faster than he could see, and only his battle-honed instincts save him from her brutal downwards hack which would have split him in half, paladin armor or not. His sword strengthened by the magic of the alicorn amulet cracks.

Star Trail might have been through dozens of combat missions, survived hundreds of ambushes, but there’s something ponies always forget about alicorns - no, not that they are stronger, faster, and unbelievably tougher, but that most of the living ones survived tens of thousands of pony lifetimes from way less civilized ages.

When Star Trail’s sword shatters with Luna’s next strike, and the feedback of released magic sends rending lightning through his horn and skull, he realizes he might have bitten off more than he can chew.

A beam of dark energy barely visible in the inky realm of the night sky hits Luna from behind. However, the expectation clearly was to strike her unaware, not to hit her raised wing shielding her completely from the blast.

“There you are!” a bloodthirsty grin grows on Luna’s face, “Cromach was right. There was someone else behind this rambling weakling.”

She turns around to face the newcomer, and casually kicks back with her hind leg at Star Trail, her hoof piercing his chest and leaving a burning gash nearly decapitating him behind. The ex-paladin collapses, forelegs clutched against the wound as the dark magic of the alicorn amulet weakens with each passing second.

The new equine figure is wearing a black robe with hood covering its head, only a long horn protruding from it. It’s about as tall as Luna, but skinny beyond belief, and with no obvious weapons, not that it means anything. Come to think about it, he is about the size of a certain someone as well.

“I don’t suppose your name is ‘Beard’, is it?” she flourishes her halberd in the air.

The figure remains silent.

Rolling her eyes, Luna jabs her halberd behind her, this time stabbing a hole through risen Star Trail’s skull. He falls over again, hooves held over his fresh extra-large third nostril.

Oh well, time to end this.

Luna charges at the new figure, not repeating her attack from behind, but simply slashing at it while passing by to avoid any area of effect spells at close range. The enemy clearly is a necromancer with knowledge of advanced mental magic, and likely the ability to drain divinity, so wasting time would be unwise.

A glowing purple barrier stops Luna’s strike for a fraction of a second before shattering and letting the blade through. The figure gets hacked in half as well, revealing only bleached bones under the robe. A moment later, both Star Trail and the other one disappear.

Two undead.

Luna knows that this is her chance. Death within the dream realm would likely have severe consequences on the living, and even though the two attackers were both undead, they should be hampered in some way. On top of that, they can’t be far away from her. That means she has the chance to end this immediately.

She simply closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, she finds herself on the balcony of the tallest Canterlot castle tower, standing next to a golden telescope aimed at the night sky. While she can still feel that isn’t the real world, it’s a step closer. She extends her consciousness through the unknown pocket dimension, and senses the intruders immediately. Looking down from the balcony, she gets a clear look on the intruders, and dives to the ground.

I’m not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with ME!

Her impact makes a crater on the castle grounds, and the vengeful demigoddess rises from the wreckage accompanied by thunder and lighting tearing the night sky apart. Her armor and the halberd reappear just as Star Trail attacks her. Of course, all wounds he sustained in the dream realm are gone, but he is slower. He can’t feel physical pain from wounds as an undead, but there must be some temporary damage to his nerves still in play, and the same should be true for the robed skeletal unicorn in the back on some level, although obviously not the physical one since, you know, all bones.

She goes straight for the offense, knocking Star Trail’s sword away with the butt of her spinning halberd, and charging at him. He jumps to the side to avoid Luna’s magically reinforced horn, the vastly advanced version of the spell he tried to stab Astray with before. That, however, doesn’t allow him to keep track of her halberd which bites directly into his chest through his armor, knocking him on the ground.

A jet of flames bursts from the skeleton’s horn, and is once again deflected by Luna’s wing. There is a serious amount of power behind the spell, but nothing that could even remotely scratch an alicorn archmage like her. Flying up into the air, she spreads her wing and freezes. In the next instant, the white moonlight from the sky above crystallizes into a beam that hits the skeletal mage head on, disintegrating it completely.

Earth shakes as Luna lands again, hair cracks spread through the night sky, and with the effect of a shattering snow globe, the pocket dimension crumbles, finally revealing the real Canterlot castle, Star Trail on the lawn struggling to get up, and the reappeared skeleton stumbling from the feedback of the broken spell.

So it’s not just a reanimated skeleton, but a real lich. I can’t destroy it completely unless I get rid of its phylactery. It can’t be far, though, and it can get the idea that attacking me is fruitless.

“NIGHTGUARDS!” Luna calls out in the royal Canterlot voice, “YOUR PRINCESS IS UNDER ATTACK! COME TO ME!”

The lich turns its hooded head around as the night sky fill with batpony blurs converging towards them. However, Luna can’t keep an eye on him, because contrary to all expectations, Star Trail attacks her again.

“Give it a rest!” she slashes his real sword in half this time, and the glow of the alicorn amulet fades completely. Star Trail collapses on his knees, and can only look at Luna with pure hatred in his eyes, “You will not haunt anypony anymore, revenant! May the peace of real death cure your insanity.”

Her halberd now enchanted with holy magic goes down like a guillotine…

...and buries itself into the ground as feeling of freezing claws ripping her from the inside makes her drop it and scream. All strength leaves her as she keels over in front of Star Trail, only able to turn her head enough to see the red glow of the lich’s spell sapping her divine power away.

The lich was trying to have her underestimate him all the time, and succeeded.

However, the first Nightguards finally arrive, swooping down like hunting hawks and interrupting the mage’s draining magic. A shockwave knocks the first few away, but as the lich looks upwards to see more and more coming, it flicks its horn, and with a flash of light both he and Star Trail disappear.

Luna, feeling colder with each passing second, whispers-

“...Magnus...”

-and passes out.

Celestia lands by Luna’s side just as two batponies arrive with a stretcher and load her on.

“What happened?”

The nearest Nightguard salutes.

“Princess Luna was attacked, your Highness. There were two of them, a unicorn stallion wearing a paladin armor, and one taller and skinny creature wearing a long robe. Judging by the size, we assume it was a unicorn stallion as well. It was his spell which hit princess Luna.”

“How is she?” Celestia gives a worried look to the duo carrying Luna now entering the castle.

“We didn’t find any physical wounds on her, your Highness. My best guess is that whoever attacked queen Novo did the same to her. The spell looked like a red and black beam, which is what queen Novo reported as well. I apologize that I can’t tell you more, but I’m not a unicorn,” he shakes his head.

“Hmmm...” Celestia frowns, “Two attackers, you said?”

“Yes, your Highness. They both teleported away at once,” he taps his helmet, “Oh, and one final thing - we can’t be one hundred percent sure, but before she passed out, princess Luna said ‘Magnus’.”

Celestia freezes.

“I don’t suppose… there are any clues that might mean that changelings are involved in any capacity?” she asks slowly, her mind somewhere completely else.

The batpony shrugs.

“Not as far as we can tell. I mean, anything is possible with changelings, but we won’t find anything. Send us an experienced unicorn to examine the combat scene, and we might come up with something, but right now changelings are a big no.”

Nodding, Celestia flaps her wings, and takes off straight towards the second floor of the castle, teleporting inside as soon as she’s near the wall. She finds a particular guest room, and enters without bothering to knock.

The white griffon inside is already sitting on the bed, and giving her an annoyed glare.

“Can’t a griffon get a good night’s sleep around here?!” groans Cromach, “Seriously, even the darkest threats to ponykind and the world at large have the decency to be evil during business hours...”

“This isn’t a joking matter, Cromach,” Celestia heads straight towards the bed, “Luna has just been attacked.”

“Aaaand how did king Beard do it this time?” he snickers with a raised eyebrow.

Celestia ignores the verbal jab, and explains:

“Two attackers, one tall and robed and one wearing a paladin armor, managed to drain my sister. Once again, they were interrupted before they could finish the job, this time by Nightguards. They supposedly teleported away when faced with the guards.”

“Star Trail and the guy who killed him, reanimated him, and then pulled him out of the dungeons before Astray could finish him off,” Cromach’s smug grin makes Celestia’s eye twitch.

“What?!” she hisses at him, “How have I not heard about any of this?”

“Considering your track record with decisions when you are informed, you can’t blame me for trying to avoid you fucking everything up again, can you?”

Celestia takes a long and slow breath.

“You should realize where you are, Cromach,” she says in a low voice.

“And you should realize that I really don’t give a shit about anything coming from you after your blatant idiocy killed my lover. Now, I don’t think we need to go through this every time we’re forced to be in the same room, so what was that about Luna getting attacked by king Beard and possibly the tooth fairy?”

“First, you’re going to tell me about Star Trail so that I can make a clear judgement about this.”

Cromach repeats everything he knows about Star Trail, his chat with king Beard and Three, Astray’s testimony of the attack, and Luna telling him the known history of Beard’s hive.

“Alright,” Celestia paces back and forth, thinking, ”I’m not saying Beard is off the hook, because it could still be some elaborate scheme combined with using Star Trail for revenge against me-”

Cromach facetalons.

“-Look, I have to keep my mind open. I’ve lived for way longer than you can even imagine, Cromach, and compared to some coup attempts I’ve gone through, this would still be foal’s play. I’m not saying it’s likely, I’m saying it’s possible.”

“It’s your kingdom pissing the changelings off, not me,” he just shrugs, “Now can we finally get to why you woke me up after Luna got attacked?”

“Before Luna passed out, she said ‘Magnus’.”

“Like the primal alicorn of Magic?”

“You know about him?”

“I saw him at Zeph’s years ago,” explains Cromach, “White, no wings, scared of mares. Do you really think he can be behind this? I mean, isn’t he supposed to be some sort of crazy magic researcher recluse?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t, but Luna named him. He’s also the only alicorn without any divine power, since Twilight is the inheritor of his divinity, and he’s still immortal. No one knows how he does it without necromancy or blood sacrifices.”

“Am I right in assuming that you think he’s trying to regain divinity for some reason?” Cromach tilts his head.

“No, I’m not, but it’s the only explanation I can think of at the moment. I can’t leave the summit, so I need you to go find the location of Magnus’ research tower, and talk to him.”

Cromach snorts in suppressed laughter.

“Wait, you want me to go punch the snot out of a primal alicorn, literally the most dangerous being alive other than the three gods?”

“Look, there is no one else with your kind of experience around, and it’s only a matter of time before somepony else is attacked.”

“Oh I’m not refusing,” Cromach waves his forelegs defensively, “I’m just trying to summarize it for myself. I saw Blaze punch Void once and he walked away alive. I mean, worst case scenario, I get turned into a frog and squashed. Big boo hoo,” he shrugs.

“I could give you a lecture about having a death wish, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t listen,” Celestia’s tone softens a little.

“Not listening to reason, eh? We’d finally have something in common,” he raises both his forelegs as Celestia opens her mouth to scold him again, “Alright, I got it out of my system for a while. Now, your Highness, hiring me will cost you. We’re not on terms where you can just ask me to do this anymore.”

Celestia sighs.

“What do you want?”

“Forgive the rest of the Silver Sun debt to the crown. We’ve paid most of it already, so this wouldn’t be a blow to you anyway.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll think about going.”

They glare at each other.

“Fine, deal,” Celestia gives in first. It’s difficult negotiating with someone who holds all the cards.

“Good. Any idea where I should start?”

“I can teleport you to Zeph’s, that’s pretty much it. I don’t know where Magnus’ tower is, but Zephyr or someone there might.”

“Do I have to go alone?”

“I can provide few guards if you need, but-”

“No, no… I think I have an idea,” he grins, “Can you prepare me a scroll that can take me and my company there? I don’t know when my guys might be back, but if they don’t come soon, I’ll have to take Astray or someone, and I don’t want to bother you in the middle of the summit meeting or whenever I decide to go.”

“I can make you a one-use scroll, yes. I’ll have it delivered to you within an hour.”

“Alright,” he stretches, “I guess I’ll go have a cup of coffee or something.”

When Celestia leaves, Cromach chuckles to himself.

“Too bad I won’t be here to see her face when she figures it out. Gotta tell Astray to snap me a photo.”

Shortly after one of the servants arrives in Cromach’s guest room with the requested scroll, the griffons has already procured two backpacks out of somewhere, and harrassed some castle staff to fill them with a bottle of water and some lasting food each just in case. Now, accompanied by Astray, he knocks on king Beard’s guest room.

“Why are we waking up the king of the changelings this later at night?” asks the satyr, still dizzy from having been roused from sleep only few minutes before.

“You didn’t think I needed you to come with me, did you?” Cromach smirks, “There’s someone else who wants to figure this case out more than all of us put together, and- ah, good morning, your Majesty!” he bows before me, the smug ass that he is.

“Don’t tell me there was another attack...” I ask in joke, but Astray’s serious expression makes me breathe out, “Who?”

“Luna,” the griffon puts one of the two large backpacks on his back on the floor.

“Look, I was asleep until you knocked-” I immediately wave my forelegs in front of my chest.

“You wanna go figure out who is behind this?” the griffon interrupts me, and nods to the bag, “Luna named a name, and Celestia scribed me a teleport scroll to where I should start looking.”

“Wait, Celestia wants us to go sort this out?” I still have trouble grasping the situation. Thankfully, two more brains join me as Three and Gem walk up to my side.

“Not exactly us, per se,” Cromach can’t hide his grin, “I asked her to have the scroll work on me and my company. I didn’t exactly tell her who I intend to take with me. I assume she expected Astray or one of my guys when they come back. Let’s not go and correct her, shall we?”

I, well, I mean…

It’s not a terrible idea. I’m pretty sure that I will get blamed for this on some level anyway, and this way I might be able to help clear our name.

“Gem?”

“Not a fan, boss. How much do you trust that guy?”

“There are two things that could happen. One, he genuinely wants to help and we’ll do what we can to find the real attacker. Or two, he’s somehow evil and I will be in danger instead of you.”

“I really don’t want you to go alone. No, I really don’t want to be the one to explain to mom where you went in case this goes south.”

“Eleven is looking for One and the others, and hopefully he can find them in time. I would take you with us, but I need you here. You are good with all this diplomatic stuff, and certainly better than me at haggling. You or Two would be the best lings for this job, and with how things are, guess who this falls to.”

“You DON’T have to go.”

“I want to. Since the first night, I’ve had this irresistible itch to punch someone, and I might finally get a chance.”

“Hey, you two,” I nod to Cromach and Astray, “What exactly is the mission?”

“Right now, simply find the location of a certain stallion, and then ask him several questions regarding this situation. It might turn out he’s not involved at all, in which case we just come back here and start from square one. If he is involved, then we ask why, and maybe get a little shouty.”

“Aaaand that’s what the axe on your back is for?” Gem tilts her head.

“Exactly,” Cromach nods.

“If boss is going, I’m going,” says Three firmly, “I don’t care if I’m food or a pillow, but I’m not leaving boss alone in this! We started this together, and we won’t have ponies be unfriendly with us.”

“Umm, Three,” I look down at the drone, “Astray here can protect you in case Star Trail comes back.”

“Nope!” he crosses his forelegs on his chest, “I’m coming and that’s final. Boss, I’m not scared for myself- well, no… I’m really scared, but I’m more scared of you being in danger and without any of us around. Even if you tell me no, I’ll just follow you.”

Be a good king and order him to stay safe, or take him with me not to hurt his feelings? I mean, he’s right in a way. If I need energy and a second set of eyes, he’ll be invaluable. But then, can I keep him out of harm’s way?

No, wrong question.

What I’ve wanted for a long time was to give my changelings a choice about what they want to do with their lives. There is no arguing with my main principle.

“Alright, Three. You’re coming with us.”

“Yesssss...” he punches the air.

“Gem, deal with the summit business, and inform the others if they either come back or are brought back.”

“I’ll tell Connie and others about the plan if needed,” Astray speaks up.

“And keep an eye on the lovely lady Gem here,” adds Cromach.

“Umm, what?” I ask.

“She’s the only changeling of yours left inside the castle, and Star Trail can come unannounced,” says Cromach, “Don’t worry, Astray won’t perv on you too much. His harem is already full.”

“Sir!” Astray looks away, blushing immediately.

To my amusement, Gem takes it in a much calmer fashion, walks up, and offers Astray her hoof.

“I don’t mind having a bodyguard keeping an eye on me. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Oh right, the changeling trials. I completely forgot about that.

Astray clears his throat, and shakes her hoof.

“I’ll make sure no harm comes to you, lady Gem.”

“Perfect!” Cromach claps his talons, “Three, your Majesty, stand over here if you will, and put that backpack on...” nods to a spot next to him and the bag on the floor. Three flies onto my back, and as we step out into the dark castle hall, Cromach wraps a wing around my back while pulling out a scroll.

“So, where are we goi-”

There’s a bright flash of light, and…

...Gem and Astray look at each other, suddenly alone.

Author's Notes:

You wanted longer chapters, but I never said there would be more story progress in them! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!

Also, they are a pain in the ass to proofread, so I hope there aren't too many typos.

No, seriously, I hope you're enjoying this even so far apart and a vastly different style.

8: Bug in the sun, bugs against fake Sun, and bug loving real Sun.

The short yet still unpleasantly long sensation of a wingless drop through the empty void ends with wooden floor under my hooves.

“Okay, screw teleportation,” I mutter immediately.

“Wheah-oh!” Three stumbles, “Hey, sir, your mane is smoking!”

“I feel you,” announces Cromach, looking around, “Heh, hasn’t changed a bit since last time.”

“When yar at the age of my clientele, ye appreciate a familiar place, birdy,” answers a heavily accented voice, “Nice to see ye again. Yer friends too, and that’s just how my mane looks like.”

Again?

Okay, let’s start from the top.

This place looks like one of the smaller, family-run dwarf restaurants Two took me and One once to meet Topaz - a single, large room with low ceiling, a counter at the far wall with a door leading presumably to the kitchen, and fairly few tables scattered around. All the windows have blinders of surprisingly high quality for a place this rustic drawn, so the entire room is dim gloom of the… wait, isn’t there supposed to be night outside? Anyway, lastly, there’s a wooden door leading outside with glass panes in the center through which bright light is pouring into the dusty and dim interior, and all I can see is a lot of brownish yellow.

The speaker answering Cromach’s comment is…

...an alicorn. An elderly orange-fading-to-brown alicorn, to be exact, with light grey mane and tail which nonetheless look like what I could imagine as smoke or wind given life, who seems to be the only occupant of this place.

I am immediately suspicious because, you know, my experience with alicorn’s isn’t the greatest, but Cromach is smirking, and already heading towards the counter where the windy alicorn is cleaning a levitating glass with a rag wrapped around his hoof.

“So, what brings ye here?” asks the alicorn when Cromach hops onto one of many bar stools lining the counter.

“Nothing pleasant, Zephyr, though if I had a way to come here more often, I would,” Cromach shrugs, “Someone seems to be attacking alicorns.”

“Wasn’t me!” Zephyr waves his forelegs defensively, chuckling, “Although alicorn meat bean stew...”

“If you ever add it to the menu, invite me,” laughs Cromach, “No, the reason for the attacks is that someone is trying to drain their divinity. So far, queen Novo and princess Luna have been attacked.”

“And princess of Food,” adds Three, and I can almost feel the gears in Zephyr’s brain starting to turn in a different way to account for Three.

“Oh, right!” Cromach snaps his talons, “Yeah, Cadance too. This guy,” he points at me, “interrupted the attacks on Cadance and Novo, and from what I heard, Luna kicked a metric crapton of ass before the attacker or attackers took her down, which brings us here.”

“How?” Zephyr raises an eyebrow, “I think I do have an evil version in some other reality, but all he does is make the stew extra spicy. I think he calls it the anal screwdriver bowl.”

Thank you, that’s imagery I didn’t need so early in the morning.

“If even you call it extra spicy, I’m pretty sure it melts dragons from the inside,” Cromach waves his foreleg, “But I wasn’t talking about you. Before Luna passed out after the attack, she supposedly identified Magnus as the attacker.”

“What? Maggie? Naaaah,” Zephyr shakes his head so vigorously few tiny tornadoes split away from it an wibble in the air shortly before disappearing, “Maggie might be a foul mouth, but he wouldn’t hurt a mare in his dreams. Hay, I think Creamy used to tease him with some offered spanking and he just went red and started frothing into his blueberry juice.”

“I turn red too whenever miss One kisses my nose even if I’m not trying to transform. I also start glowing for some reason. Anyway, hurting anyone is bad unless they need remedial friendship lessons, so this means that Magnus guy is alright,” concludes Three.

Cromach pats his head.

“Good buggy. That’s all I know. We came here to ask if you or someone else didn’t have any idea how we could find Magnus, because it turns out that Sunbutt nor anyone we know does.”

“And Maggie likes to keep it that way,” Zephyr continues cleaning the glass for few moments while Cromach just drums his talons on the counter, “but if the situation is this serious...”

“Do you know where to find him?” asks the griffon.

“I don’t, but I know someone who might,” he points towards an empty table in the corner which is the only one with a pulled out chair for no reason I can think of. Maybe someone invisible?

“A table?” Three eyes the piece of furniture with suspicion, “It does have the right kind of legs to be a changeling...”

At least for a moment, I gain some mental anchorage in this situation when Cromach looks as confused as I’ve been feeling since the teleportation.

I follow him to the empty table, and twitch when I hear Zephyr bellow:

“HEY, KRONIE, GET OVER HERE!”

We both turn our heads to the alicorn who nods, and when we look back at the table, there’s an earthpony already sitting there, sipping from a square glass of some amber liquid. Unlike Zephyr, he’s smaller than me or Cromach, his mane is chocolate-brown and not at all magical, the rest of him is several shades lighter, and I can see his cutie mark of an hourglass.

“Come on, I told you last time- no… I told you before… or will I tell you now? Anyway, you didn’t have to yell,” says the earthpony calmly in a somewhat high-class tone.

“Sorry, have that whiskey fer free,” Zephyr just shrugs, and the glass before ‘Kronie’ refills on its own, “Anyway, these guys are here to see ya. Something about Maggie.”

The earthpony looks at us, and says:

“The closest entrance to Magnus’s tower is in the Holy City. Do you know the central market? Yes, you do,” he answers his own question before Cromach can open his beak, “It’s one of the exits he uses to grab… volunteers for his experiments. You need to be carrying a plastic cup of blueberry juice, exactly six apricots, think of a mare you’d like to have intercourse with, and walk into any part of outer wall of the Imperial palace.”

I have exactly zero idea what just transpired, so I just automatically mumble “Thank you.”

“Thank you, mister wibbly-pony!” Three smiles at the earthpony who gives him a somewhat confused look.

“That’s it, no persuading or anything?” Cromach seems to be as taken aback as I am.

The earthpony shrugs.

“Whether or not you spend five minutes persuading me won’t break this timeline or anything, really, so I didn’t see any harm in just telling you,” he picks Three up, and examines him from all sides, “Hmmm, Scream’s work.”

“Yep, I’m part lamp,” Three’s runes starts blinking various colors.

“We could be lying to try to get to Magnus and, I don’t know, harm him or something,” I suggest.

The earthpony raises an eyebrow, and gives me a smile I immediately categorize as somewhat irritatingly patronizing.

“I am the alicorn of Time, king Beard. I know what’s going on, I know what preceded this, and I know how this ends,” he glances at Cromach, “Well, most of it. There are certain loose ends which are so uncertain even I can’t see them. Amusingly enough, those depend on both of you,” finally, he sits Three down on the table, and boops his nose. Three lights up, literally, “Well, all three of you in a way.”

“Hmmm...” I rub my chin while Cromach stares at the possibly-disguised-alicorn with a puzzled expression, “Then how about you tell us what’s really going on, who is behind it, and how we kick their ass in the end?”

The earthpony smiles, and shakes his head.

“Now that would create a timeline neither of us wants. I know this will mean nothing to you, but it eventually will to our feathered friend here. The current state of the Pact of Harmony is giving us a fairly narrow path to a future which isn’t… a complete dead end. And before any of you ask, I don’t understand what happens to make it so, but I know Cromach here is either involved or directly responsible.”

“Hey, that makes two of us,” jokes Cromach, seemingly not bothered, “Though something that is invisible even to the alicorn of Time must mean that its source is outside of time, right? The question is - what is outside of time?”

“Springs and cogs,” Three raises his foreleg, “I broke a clock in the castle once on accident. It just came pouring out… The guards were really mad, but then I told them I was really sorry, they clutched their chests, and groaned that it was okay because there were enough clocks already.”

Well, that sheds some light on several sudden, previously unexplained guard vacations.

“By definition, I cannot know what’s outside time,” he shrugs, and then he clops his hooves together as if he remembered something, “Alas, when the critical point arrives, that series of events will be completely on you, Cromach, not me.”

“Greeeeat, no pressure at all,” Cromach rolls his eyes, “Any tips that would help me not flush the whole timeline into a toilet?”

“Hmmm… that statuette you left in your Manehattan office is important. Oh, and the usual - trust your heart, your instinct, and most of all your… lower parts,” he flickers, I have no other way to describe it, “Yes, that shouldn’t have ruined anything major. Oh, and where are my manners,” he raises a foreleg for a shake, “My name is Kronos. Or did I already introduce myself? I apologize, focusing on a single moment in time isn’t my strongest suit.”

*THUD!*

Before I can shake his hoof, the door of the diner slams open, and several griffons armed with sabers rush inside.

“THIS IS A STICK-UP! GIVE US ALL YOUR GOLD AND-”

“Seriously, this happens every time I’m here,” Kronos sighs.

“MORE FRIENDS! I CAN GIVE YOU ALL THE HUGS!” Three jumps down from the table.

“Don’t mean to be a stickler for reality, but yer everywhere all the time at the same time,” Zephyr corrects Kronos, undisturbed by what are over ten armed bandit raiders spreading around his establishment, and Three currently pouncing at one.

“GETITOFF! GETITOFF! IT’SEATINGMYFACE!”

Three bandits rush over to Zephyr, and one aims a pistol straight at his head. Four fan around us, pistols and sabers at the ready while the last two walk around, checking under the tables and turning the place on its head. The final one is chasing one very confused griffon crashing into tables with Three around his neck.

“You didn’t hear me, horse?” the apparent leader of the bandits slams his fist against the counter, and hiccups.

“Hmm, what?” Zephyr looks up from his glass, “I am fairly old, true. My hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

“I said -hic- I said-” he burps. The bandit next to him farts out loud, and looks around, “Seriously -hic-”

The third bandit lets out a loud and long burp that might have originally been a sentence.

Cromach snorts.

“Pretty lowbrow sense of humor, Zephyr,” he comments on the bloating and gassy trio now unable to do more than tremble, clutch their bellies, and make random gurgling noises.

“Alicorn of Winds, what do ya expect? Just open a window, will ye?” he replies.

Cromach grabs the nearest griffon by the neck, and throws him through one as if the adult and armed bandit didn’t weigh anything.

“Ahhh, fresh air...” he takes a deep breath in front of the stunned bandits who finally realize something is deeply wrong.

Another bandit tries to raise his gun, and at this point I finally let out all my frustration from the entire summit situation. Fire envelops my foreleg as I punch him. When he smashes into the wall by the door on the opposite side of the large room with an audible crack of bones, I note that I may be a little more wound up than I cared to admit to myself.

“Therapeutic, isn’t it?” Cromach grins while casually slapping the everliving shit out of another bandit while crushing his talons barely holding his gun with his other foreleg.

With only a quick nod, I pick the closest metal chair, and smash the nearest bandit with it.

“Ouch...” Kronos winces in sympathy, and disappears.

“Oh- I- I didn’t- I...” I stutter while staring at the result of my love-fueled strike, namely at a mesh of wood and metal lodged deep inside the torso of a very dead griffon, “That wasn’t even sharp!”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Cromach pats my back, “It’s no fun if you straight up kill them...” he frowns, “None left for a second round. Makes me a sad catbird.”

In horror, I stare at all the remaining griffons bloated like huge balls and slowly bouncing off of the ceiling while their uncontrolled burping and farting keeps them moving.

“STOP CRUSHING MY NECK, YOU GLOWING BUG MONSTER!”

“Never, you’re soft and cuddly!”

“I’M A BANDIT!”

“I’m a bandaid!”

“Nomad attacks are sort of a tradition by now. I mean, if you are stupid enough to try to raid an alicorn bar, you deserve that,” shrugs Cromach, nodding to the floaters, and sits down to an empty table, “Alright, we got what we came for, aaaand I kinda wasn’t thinking about a way back. Let’s wait for Sunbutt to pick us up and send us somewhere closer to the Holy City. It’s over a week-ish trip by train from here, if I recall correctly.”

The panicking bandit finally realizes that Three isn’t actually doing anything other than cuddling his neck, grabs the beaming drone under his forelegs, scowls at him, and then he realizes there’s no noise other than his heavy breathing. He looks around, sees his floating colleagues, the corpse, the broken window, and one griffon outside already fleeing. Under our glares, he very carefully lowers Three on the floor, pats his head-

“Eeeh… good glowy bug?”

-shuffles backwards to the door leading out, and quickly runs out, slamming the door behind him.

Humming and clanking of metal makes me turn my head, only to see Zephyr levitating some sort of netting and two long poles as well as a mop and a bucket, the last two landing by my chair.

“Yer cleaning yer mess, buggy! There’s a trash can outside,” Zephyr points at the half-griffon half-chair I killed. I mean I didn’t want to, it just… everything just bubbled up and… and why are they both so calm about this?

“Three, go help mister Zephyr to the kitchen,” I block Three’s line of sight of the mutilated corpse.

“Okay!” he darts behind the counter.

Unable to cope with casual murder -well, I mean it was self-defense, technically- I carry the body along with the twisted framework of the chair outside and leave it by the… trash can in the sand. Oh yeah, now there I’m outside, there’s desert everywhere, with nothing else to see other than a wall of living wind looking like Zephyr’s mane circling the diner as if we were in the eye of a hurricane. When I return back, number and number with each second, I start mopping.

Through the broken window, I can see Zephyr setting up a white net between two tall poles while Cromach has procured a glass of something green, and is just sipping it. Short moment later, Zephyr returns with a broom, and starts paddling the floating bandits outside. Three’s already bouncing one up repeatedly with his head.

“Oy, guys, I’ve got a beach volleyball set up out here,” I hear his voice, “Wanna go fer few rounds?”

Cromach peeks outside, then finishes his drink, and vaults through the broken window. In the distance, the fleeing figure of the bandit he originally threw through it screams louder and picks up the pace. Three’s temporary friend is slowly catching up to him, throwing backwards glances towards the diner.

The white griffon looks at the net, then at Zephyr casually steering one floating bandit by poking him, and in the end he shrugs.

“Ah screw it, we’ve got time. Ten points per set? Hey, your Beardedness, you coming? You and I against Three and Zephyr.”

I facehoof, and feel something shatter inside me.

Wringing the blood from the mop into the bucket, I jump out of the window myself, and take a break from morality and sanity, which are apparently overrated anyway.

As I bounce the first bandit ball over the net upon which Zephyr immediately jumps and sends him back, my sudden lack of caring makes me realize one thing:

“Huh, that’s how Comfort and Scream must feel all the time.”

*Knock knock knock!*

The knocking repeats itself until Ten rises from the bed and replies:

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

The bleary-eyed changeling opens the door only to see Bright Star already in full paladin armor staring back with a steel expression. With ice-cold certainty, Ten adds:

“What’s wrong?”

“Princess Luna was attacked by an unknown assailant. Every paladin within reach is being called to the castle for extra guard duty,” reports Bright Star. When Ten rushes to the armor stand in the back of his room inside Bright Star’s Canterlot estate, the older paladin’s eye stop on the bed where, other than the crumpled sheet, lies a rather extremely well-done replica of princess Celestia.

He walks inside, and pokes the plushie over twice the size of Ten.

“Good likeness,” he snickers, “Where did you even get that?”

“Hey!” Ten, halfway inside his armor, notices what Bright Star is doing, and blushes, “...had it custom made...” he mumbles in the end.

“Extra filling in the backside department, I see,” Bright Star pats the plush princess, and with a laugh at the now steaming changeling, he walks out of the room. Considering that he himself did use one of his paladin loyal service requests to spend the night with the real thing many decades ago, he has real appreciation for the quality of the work.

Ten comes out shortly after, slams the door shut, and locks it behind him. To avoid being teased further, he asks:

“How is princess Luna?”

“As far as I know, she’s alive but exhausted and unconscious. We’re supposed to patrol the castle through the rest of the night, and somepony will sort out shift schedule for the duration of the summit later today.”

Too focused on potential threats, the two don’t talk much during their trip to the castle, although Ten notes that he can’t feel any changelings other than Gem around. Of course, that can be simply because of increased magical protection fields and Gem being the top infiltrator around with the most powerful mental signature. As they enter the castle, Ten only shakes his head. He’ll figure it out in the morning. Now, his job is to make sure no threats befall anyone for the rest of the night.

About an hour later, Ten feels his eyes droop, and yawns. In the next moment, he kicks Bright Star’s foreleg, which makes the older paladin blink and gasp.

“Sorry, I must have dozed off-”

“No, you didn’t,” hisses Ten, “It’s the same thing that happened to us in the Crystal Empire! Can you feel any magic nearby?”

Bright Star furrows his brows, his horn flashes, and he scowls.

“Yes, above us. It’s massive. Why isn’t anyone examining something of that magnitude already?”

“Because of the sleeping spell. It kept even princess Cadance out cold last time, and it was happening in her room,” he kicks Bright Star again when the paladin’s head lowers mid-sentence.

“How come it’s not working on you?” he asks as he leads Ten up one floor towards the guest rooms, passing several guards sleeping on the job.

“We have tricks related to our hive mind that help. Don’t think I’m immune by any stretch of the imagination,” whispers Ten as Bright Star stops by the door of one of the many guest rooms, and points, “Alright, lockpicking time,” green fire envelops Ten’s armored foreleg before he punches the door in, and steps into...

...pitch blackness which closes behind him after two quick steps.

“Bright Star?” Ten whispers, turning around and seeing nothing.

“Light of Celestia’s sun, dispel this abomination!” proclaims Bright Star’s voice, and the darkness burns away, revealing a guest room with infinite amount of floor and ceiling spreading into the distance, but with no walls.

Bright Star is standing behind Ten, his horn flaring with golden light. In front of him lies a bed with sleeping princess Cadance and Shining Armor. Between them and the bed, though, stand two figures, one of whom Ten hoped never to see again. Even Bright Star’s eyes bulge for a moment.

“Star Trail?” he chokes out. The ex-paladin is ashen grey, whole left part of his face looks as if it was mauled by a bear, part of his horn is missing, his chestplate is dented and hacked to pieces, and the paladin longsword hovering next to him has cracks spreading all over its edge.

Behind him stands a slightly taller figure covered by black robe, its horn a clean bone glowing red and connected by thin wisps of black and crimson smoke to moaning and groaning princess on the bed.

Ten, however, isn’t paralyzed for even a second. Finally, all his service goals to both the boss and princess Celestia align with long-suppressed personal rage, and with the delicacy of a butcher he slashes at Star Trail.

The ex-paladin expertly parries, his experience outclassing Ten’s many times, but Ten’s ferocity as he grinds sword against sword makes him back off. That doesn’t help at all when Ten darts under the crossed blades, transforms his hoof into a spike, and rams it straight into Star Trail’s neck.

The normally fatal wound has no effect as Star Trail kicks Ten away with surprising strength, no blood coming out of the neck wound.

“Star Trail, what have you done?” whispers Bright Star.

“I have a second chance to make things right,” growls Star Trail, his sword now hacking at Ten with wild abandon.

“There is nothing even remotely right about what you’re doing!” Bright Star raises his voice, “Changelings aren’t enemies anymore, and what the hay are you doing with princess Cadance?”

“I don’t expect you to understand, Bright Star. I don’t even hold betraying me in front of the holy princess against you, not even after the head bug bitch tortured my mind for years. But if you try to stop me this time, I will end you!” Star Trail growls, his horn sparkling from the duel with Ten.

“Can you stop talking and help me here?!” Ten grits his teeth, pushing Star Trail back again.

“Right… right...” Bright Star shakes his head, and darts towards the robed figure. His sword lights up with golden fire and strikes a dark barrier surrounding the enemy.

“I need time!” hisses the unknown equine.

“Tick tock, motherbucker!” Bright Star blasts the enemy with light so bright it makes Ten back off and cover his eyes. That doesn’t bother Star Trail with his back towards it, whose sword slides off of the plating of Ten’s armor.

The shockwave from Bright Star’s spell has knocked the hood off of the enemy, revealing a clean skull with two glowing blue eyes. However, that seems to be the extent of the damage caused magic attack.

“Undead...” Bright Star immediately scowls, putting two and two together. A powerful lich and an ex-paladin revenant, which means one big thing. Star Trail won’t be able to use some holy magic, and in turn Bright Star’s speciality will be extra effective. Of course, that doesn’t put any limit on the lich’s power.

The floor rumbles, making Bright Star jump to the side just as a black, jagged spike erupts upwards. Before the paladin can counterattack, red lightning strikes his sword which he’s rammed into the floor, earthing the magical flow away from himself.

Green light of burning love fuels Ten’s next strike at Star Trail with such force that Star Trail’s cracked sword shatters into shards.

“That’s for Comfort’s and boss’ unborn foal, you bastard!” growls Ten, raising his sword more like a woodcutter about to chop down a tree.

Magical barrier blocks Ten’s second hammering strike, fracturing along with Star Trail’s horn. Ten follows it with a punch which cleaves a hole in it, making it disappear as few more fragments of Star Trail’s horn fall on the floor. The ex-paladin screams even as an undead as the feedback from stopped magical flows rends what’s a connection between his soul and body.

“That one was for Comfort!” the fury in Ten’s eyes is matched only by that in Star Trail’s

His charred horn only sputters few golden sparks now, and the shards of his paladin sword weakly wobble on the floor. Biting his lip, he looks up, and finally realizes that whatever his final attempt at defending himself was going to be, it would take too long anyway.

Ten’s sword, burning with twin golden and emerald flames of love and paladin magic in tune with Ten’s short horn lengthened by the effect of light twisting around it, is already coming down like a guillotine.

“AND THIS ONE IS FOR FUCKING THREE!” screams Ten, cleaving Star Trail in half from his horn down to his belly, his platemail offering next to no further resistance.

However, Star Trail’s limp flop on the floor is drowned by a loud, pained gasp of princess Cadance sitting up on the bed, clutching her chest and choking. Her eyes bulge, roll to the back of her head, and she drop back.

Pink smoke coming from Cadance shortly swirls in the air, twists around the skeletal mage, and seeps into his body. In front of him, Bright Star pulls the sword out of the floor, and back off, gathering magic into his horn.

“Finally, a full divine aspect,” the skeleton laughs, “Let’s see how it handles.”

A red beam intertwined with black smoke hits Bright Star whose armor flashes gold like his horn, smoothly deflecting the beam away. Protection from negative energy and null plane, the bread and butter of experienced paladins trained to face vampires, life-draining magic, and shadows. Complex but quick to cast, and absolutely vital.

Bright Star is about to lunge ahead when a gasp from behind him makes him turn his head. A second beam has hit Ten who withers in the span of a second, his hoof breaking off under his weight, chitin crumpling like paper unable to support the heavy armor as all his energy is drained by the lich. The light in his eyes fades along with his sword clanking on the floor. He finally lands with more a poof than a thud, his body already more dust than solid form.

On the other horrifying leg, Star Trail’s wound knits back together, though not completely, leaving him as a partially cleaved abomination staring at Bright Star.

“Works rather well, if I say so myself,” says the lich, “Now to-”

Golden light bathes the area, making Star Trail stumble backwards and the lich slump and groan. Bright Star’s horn is shining like a beacon of holy magic, keeping evil and both undead at bay, at least temporarily. A flare splits off of the glow, and lazily strikes the lich who bursts into flames, flailing around.

“Star Trail!” roars Bright Star, “You killed Three in front of his king, and now you killed my student in front of me. You did twice what was done to you. You threw away your equinity and life for this? Do you not understand that hate only breeds hate?”

“Not if one side dies out completely as they should. I will find those bugs, and kill them all properly this time,” hisses Star Trail.

“No, you won’t!” the same flare that hit the lich before strikes Star Trail who starts screaming and flailing as the holy fire devours his flesh.

Turning around, Bright Star finds himself staring face to face with the lich free from any fire. Bony talons of pure red magic grow from thin air and grip Bright Star by the neck, pulling him up like a noose. The crushing grip right above the rim of his breastplate doesn’t allow him to focus on magic or telekinesis, making several kicks his only viable course of action.

The lich laughs, possessing no real weight but still being immovable like a mountain.

“Now now, do I try to repair him, or do I simply kill and reanimate you?”

Bright Star chokes and flails, his eyes rolling backwards.

“Decisions, decision-” the lich suddenly screams and drops the paladin.

When Bright Star finally catches some amount of oxygen, he looks forward at the lich struggling under various arcing streams of lightning, pink, blue, and teal, twisting him and seemingly dragging him along back towards Cadance. The paladin tries to push himself upwards, but collapses again, barely feeling his limbs.

“No!” the lich calls out, slowly making the wild energy disappear back into him. He manages to contain it, and stumbles. Further steps only mean further loss of balance, and he can’t walk whatsoever anymore.

Unfortunately, he can apparently still use magic, because his horn flashes, and both he and Star Trail’s charred corpse disappear.

“Woooo, that cleared my head!” Cromach wipes his forehead after helping me replace a glass pane of the previously broken window. We finished playing bandit ball ten minutes ago, and when Zephyr remained outside to let the badly bruised bandits go we were sent to repair the window with a spare pane. Apparently, this does happen often.

And yes, the bandit corpse I left by the trash disappeared in the meantime. Don’t know, don’t ask.

I’m sitting in a chair, sipping a cold and refreshing blue drink which, while bitter, tastes of some kind of minty herbage. Maybe if I shapeshift my insides to be able to digest this, my returning worries about what I did will drown. To silence that little voice inside my head, I say out loud:

“You’re not a normal griffon, no matter what you say, mister Cromach. You’re about as common griffon as I am Chrysalis’ grandma.”

“Well, are you?” he smirks, sitting down with his own drink he poured from one of the many bottles on the shelves on the wall behind the bar counter without asking, “Alright, I get it. You won’t let this go, but the honest answer is that I’m really not anyone special, or too special. So, ask away.”

Yes, FINALLY some answers!

Wait… to which questions?

“Oookay, so… how do all the alicorns know you? Celestia, Luna, Zephyr here… and even Kronos. We’ll get to that tiny little detail of him telling you that you were the savior of the world later.”

“Long story,” Cromach raises his foreleg when I instantly take a breath to object another vague deflection, “I mean it. I’ve been involved in fighting some threats which targeted alicorns before. If one has their kind of power, they also tend to have a bullseye on their backs. Now I’m the head of Order of the Silver Sun, and our job is to offer military-style training to anyone who pays, and to find and destroy enemies who use high levels of dark magic or some fragments of divine power.”

Huh, that’s similar to that bullseye thing that Luna told me, at least I think it was Luna. Too much happened too quickly during the past few days.

“What does ‘fragments of divine power’ mean? Like… pieces of alicorns?” in my defense, that was the best I could do with my amount of experience. The only mentions of divinity I can recall are Scream’s incomplete ramblings from two years ago.

“Uhhh… where do I even start?” Cromach scratches his head, “What do you know about gods of this world?”

“Like Celestia or Luna?”

“Pfff, stars no! Alright, a really brief lecture - there are three gods of this world, not some superstitious idols, actual manifestations of the powers of creation, destruction, and potential. Being the big three, they waged a war so that only one of them would remain and become one true all-powerful entity. That kinda screwed the whole reality up and no one was able to win, so they decided to stop and to compete instead. Then they either picked this planet at random or created it to be their battleground, I don’t know which. A long time ago they made an alicorn each into whom they poured some of their power, and those three were what we now call the primal alicorns, the most powerful creatures other than the gods themselves, and by far. Magnus is the last one remaining, so if we have to kick his ass eventually, good luck to us.”

“Wait, WHAT?” I choke on my drink.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it myself if necessary. I understand that suicide missions aren’t everyone’s idea of a relaxing vacation. So, now about the fragments - those are generally any items or creatures containing divine power either created by the gods, like the Elements of Harmony or a bunch of weird monsters including alicorns, or anyone or anything able to channel the divine power permeating this world, like cults or weird machines. Lecture over. We find those things, and if they’re evil, punch them until they stop being evil. I call it lateral persuasion.”

I nod, still coughing out alcohol.

“That was brief,” although there was one word that caught my attention, “Did you say cults?”

“I said many words,” replies Cromach with his familiar patented smug tone that makes me want to put a chair in him. Damn, that went quickly from ‘boo hoo, I murdered someone’ to using it as a figure of speech. Though with his furry ass, I’m starting to consider it a vital part of my thought process.

“I mean, we killed some weird cultist two years ago, all tentacles and badassery. The watch- no… Vigil, right! Ever heard of something like that? That guy was impossible to hurt by almost anything.”

Cromach freezes, but my changeling senses are more than enough to hear his heartbeat quicken, and the almost inaudible quick drawing of breath.

He knows exactly what I’m talking about. Let’s see how honest he really is.

“The Vigil...” he breathes out, “How did you meet one of those bastards?”

“Long story,” I give him his own smug smile. Not so funny now, is it?

“I doubt you know even a tenth of it,” he growls.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” I reply with a casual, singsong voice, “Two years ago, an alicorn by the name Scream contacted me and my hive, and helped us with... certain things regarding our current home. Later, she wanted me to repay the favor by finding some blueprints she needed, which eventually led to the fight between the Vigil and my hive. It was tough, but we destroyed the cultist. I haven’t heard from Scream since then.”

“Would those blueprints by any chance be related to pillars with some kind of crystal ornaments on top?” Cromach asks slowly, clearly working through what I said in his head.

“Yes, actually. You saw the blueprints?”

“I saw the pillars and the horror they brought. I would do anything to unsee it,” he growls.

“W-What do you mean?” I lean backwards, “Scream wasn’t evil, was she?”

“No, of course you wouldn’t know anything. Scream played everyone after all...” he shakes his head, looks down at the table, silent for few moments, and when he looks up at me, even I can recognize that dead, not a thousand-yard but thousand-mile stare, “I guess you should know at least some results of the chaos you caused. First of all, the love of my life is dead because of you.”

“I… umm… I’m sorry?” is the best I can say without knowing any details.

“No,” he suddenly waves his foreleg which makes me twitch, “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to find anyone I can blame, but it won’t change anything. You, Celestia, Scream… it doesn’t matter. So you have no idea what the blueprints you found for Scream were for?”

“I honestly don’t. She kinda… rambled most of the time. I think she did mention a god or something, but anything she said was really hard to make sense of.”

“It started during our first, I think, year as the newly reformed Order of the Silver Sun. A strange group of cultists calling themselves the Vigil appeared, and we investigated them, found their base, and because we believed they were connected to some entity called The Watcher, we wanted to get rid of them before they became a problem. Of course, our first team of specialists failed, some of whom were my and my lover’s friends. All of them but one got captured, tortured, killed, and flesh-crafted into monstrosities I was forced to destroy for good. Only Connie survived it because she ran away. It was the right call, but she still considers it her fault the others died, and I can see why that’s the case. And that was only when the Vigils were just starting and still weak.”

“As I said, the one we fought was almost invulnerable and strong enough to crush my best warrior filled with love to the brim. Easily...” I mumble.

“Yeah, you must have gotten one of the elder Vigils who came later,” Cromach nods, “Well, the death of our first team was only the beginning. Our second team, few months later, uncovered the spread of strange invisible creatures around Equestria, which when investigated eventually led to the connection with the Vigil. However, that also brought Vigil attention to us, and their assassins killed two of my friends. My lover, I, and our second team destroyed the second base of the cult, upon which they went underground again, but with some help by Scream, Magnus, Chrysalis, and Void we figured out who they were and what they were ultimately after.”

“Which was?”

“They wanted to bring the god ponies currently call Harmony back to this reality which… wasn’t a good idea to say the least.”

“Harmony doesn’t sound bad.”

“From what I gathered, that name is a translation from ancient ponish which doesn’t capture what the god really is. Harmony is really bad. The fact that we are all still alive is a testament that Blaze did everything right.”

“Blaze?”

“Oh, I didn’t say it, did I? My lover was the alicorn of Hope by the name Blazing Light. When the god tried to push through the void rift opened by the pillars which Scream helped the Vigil construct, Blaze bought me enough time to kill the Vigil grandmaster, but facing against a god alone was, of course, impossible for him. Harmony purged Blaze’s divinity and obliterated him. Well, in the end, we destroyed the pillars, defeated the heart of the Vigil, and sealed the heavily wounded god back in the void between realities. Unfortunately, now we know what lurks out there, and that we didn’t stop it, only delayed it again. Blaze is gone, Void is gone, by Void I mean the primal alicorn of Death, not the empty void between realities. In retrospect, his choice of a name was a bit hit and miss. Scream got killed by the Vigil leader after helping them construct the pillars, and a lot of other good ponies died.”

“None of that was made up, was it?” I just ask, trying to wrap my head around it. We needed the help of ancient dwarven technology the world hasn’t even dreamt of, I had the best of the best of Chrysalis’ hive at my disposal, and only when we brought ourselves to our utmost limits, we defeated one of the cultists. Cromach defeated their leader and the Silver Sun members wiped out the rest of the cultists.

“No,” Cromach shakes his head, “I wish it was. Every second, I wish Blaze was still here, I wish I could get the warped reality, all the tentacles, and the gazing eyeballs from under my eyelids, but no, it’s all still there,” he downs the rest of his glass, “No matter how much I try to forget.”

Oh holes…

Now I really really hope that my guys go with the Silver Sun team quietly. Although knowing them, what are the chances of that?

One frowns as she stares into a mouth of collapsed tunnel, planks blocking access to the few visible pony lengths somepony could go inside before being stopped by a cave-in. It wouldn’t be accurate that memories come flooding in, but the sight of the tunnel Comfort collapsed during their first escape from Canterlot still brought the unpleasant crushing sensation of One holding the collapsing mountain on her back.

She shudders to shake the feeling off.

“So much has changed,” she whispers. Afterwards, she looks up at the shadow of upper Canterlot, adding, “...and yet so little, apparently.”

She’s standing inside a deep groove in the ground sloping up from the old mine tunnel to reach ground level, so she can’t see anything that’s not straight up, but her enhanced ears can hear faint hoofsteps which coupled with presence growing within her hive mind announces the arrival of Two. One looks at the ground nearby the dirt of which seems to be pressed down in regular intervals. That’s all One needs to know for certain that Two is already here, although invisible.

“How did it go?” asks One.

“I didn’t notice anyone following me, changeling or otherwise,” replies Two, “Can’t talk about Cryo, though. She has the subtlety of an avalanche. From what I can feel,” she focuses for a moment, “she’ll be here in few minutes. Do we set up a trap just in case?”

“You’re better at hiding,” orders One, “Stay up there and keep an eye out for anything unusual. When Cryo gets here, we’ll figure out what to do next.”

“Will do!” Two flies up to the ground level, and quickly looks around, “It doesn’t look as if someone followed us, but if there’s someone easy to track, it’s big blue. Any potential plans of action?”

“If we’re followed, punch first and ask questions later, just don’t kill anyone,” One shrugs, “We can’t afford to kill guards even in self-defense. As for investigating who attacked Novo… I tried to think of anything relevant, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. Hole, few days ago I had no idea that something like a fish version of a hippogriff existed. We don’t know who could consider them an enemy or… anything really,” One sighs, “I was kinda hoping you would come up with something. I’m stumped.”

“Alright then, let’s stick to our original plan then - we return to Canterlot, we find a safe place, then a way to communicate with the boss and see what’s going on inside the castle. That might be enough of a challenge already.”

Two can feel faint tremors coming through the ground, announcing the arrival of Cryo who, despite that, is moving in surprising silence. As the azure queen trots down into the hiding groove, Two looks up at the sky in case some guard pegasus is coming to investigate, and sees nothing. They all wait for several minutes, and then Two jumps down to the other two, and turns visible.

“Did you notice someone following you?” asks One just in case.

“No,” Cryo shakes her head.

“But they will,” Two sighs, “The forest looks as if a train ran through it. We should figure out some harmless disguises and move. I passed lower Canterlot on my way here, and there are tourists still arriving for the summit. Guards are milling around the gates, but there’s too few of them for the entering crowds. We could easily slip in.”

“Miss Connie, here they are!” they hear a cheerful voice which even to their sharp ears wasn’t preceded by any other sound of anyone approaching whatsoever.

As one, the changelings look up at a small, rusty, equine head looking down at them from the edge of the groove above.

Time slows down to a crawl.

“Do we run?” asks Two.

“Knock the mare and anyone with her out, stuff them in here, and then we transform and go back. The city gate might be less guarded than the sewers at this point,” orders One.

Not waiting another second, Two’s horn crackles with electricity, and in the next instant her whole body turns into a lightning bolt which strikes Bubbles’ chin, making the mare do several backflips in the air, and landing Two on the edge of the groove.

“Mom, she’s not alone!” reports Two just as Bubbles belly-flops on the ground, “Get up here, both of you.”

One and Cryo fly up, and see a black, white-maned unicorn floating towards them from the edge of the forest nearby in complete silence. A female minotaur dressed in way less than One associates with them from her experiences with Rift residents runs out of the foliage and quickly joins the other two.

Contradiction lands at Bubbles’ side who shakes her head, and pouts at Two:

“Hey, you didn’t have to do that!”

“You’re to return to the castle. Don’t make your situation worse,” says Connie, “So far, you’re not sentenced to anything, but we need to keep an eye on you.”

“We’ll figure out who framed our king, since you apparently have no desire to deal with the real problem, and in that we’ll find out who attacked queen Novo,” says One.

“Proper investigators will do their job, not a bunch of changeling vigilantes,” retorts Connie, “It might take time, but justice will be served.”

“Yeeeeah,” Two butts in, “Proper investigators sent us to prison without any proof and blamed our king who saved queen Novo, so forgive me if I’m not too keen on trusting you. Plus-”

“Plus,” One points at the boarded entrance to the collapsed tunnel barely visible from up here, “that place is the testament to how your justice works for changelings. I’ll give you one final chance to diplomatically turn around and pretend you didn’t see anything. We’ll figure out who framed out king and come back with their head.”

Connie and Anvil exchange glances, having no clue what One is talking about. On the other hoof, they don’t need to know.

“I wanted to avoid this,” says Connie, “But I’ve got my orders, and those are from someone who actually knows what he’s doing. Come peacefully or in a matchbox. I don’t particularly care which.”

“Two, take the small one, she looks quick, but be careful about the teeth. Cryo, ruin the minotaur’s day a little. I’ll show that smug unicorn some… diplomacy.”

The second lightning teleport punch from Two strikes only the ground this time, scattering dirt everywhere as Bubbles shifts to the side just in time to get barely grazed.

“Eep!” she the demonette squeaks in surprise, already pouncing at Two on reflex.

“Wha-?” Two gets swept into a rolling ball by Bubbles crashing into her, and kicks up with both hind legs while covering her neck and face wit her forelegs.

It works. While Bubbles is seemingly made of steel but flexible cables covered with short plush, she’s light as a feather, allowing even someone fairly weak like Two to free herself easily.

“Soooo… not going quietly?” Anvil raises an eyebrow, glancing the way of Bubbles and Two.

“Obviously not,” Connie shrugs, “Pick one, and don’t be afraid to break a leg. Chrysalis can help us put them back together.”

Huge black blur passes by, Cryo barrelling straight at Anvil already. The minotaur jumps to the side to avoid the bull rush, and the only thing that saves her from losing majority of her teeth is her spotting a black blur from the corner of her eye and curling up mid-air. Cryo didn’t just blindly charge at her, but was quick enough to react to the attempted dodge and swipe with her foreleg at her.

Anvil lands in a roll, and jumps back on her legs.

“There’s more to you than just a big, clumsy brick, isn’t there?” Anvil smirks, taking her two-handed mace from her back.

Cryo rears on her hind legs, and rams her forelegs down with her full titanic might. The ground trembles, making Anvil shift her weight. That fraction of a second is all Cryo needs for her thick hind legs to propel her forward once more.

Anvil’s laughter pierces the air as the colossus heads her way, reminding her of the old times of wrestling polar bears. Finally, an enemy worthy of her. She repeats her maneuver, filled with joy when Cryo reacts the same way, only adjusted even better for her dodge. If Anvil did exactly the same thing, she’d be far away on the ground with her bones broken. However, this time she digs her legs into the dirt after the quick hop away, and meets Cryo’s approaching foreleg with a swing of her mace.

Exactly like hammer and anvil.

As the individual skirmishes of resourceful against quick, and strong against stronger get into full swing, One examines the black and white unicorn.

Unarmed, unarmored, fit but not bulky… battlemage? Likely. Equipment - only a pair of saddlebags, possibly able to contain throwing daggers or something similar. Maybe an alchemist like Gem? No, that wouldn’t work unless the bags are filled with vials containing the same thing or she would get them confused.

With nothing much to go on other than knowing for certain that she is way tougher, stronger, and faster than the unicorn, One opts for the standard way of fighting spellcasters - not giving them time to breathe and prepare.

Only a faint glisten of green announces One’s fast advance ahead in a snaking pattern. She almost makes it to the unicorn before…

...something hits her, swatting her away into the corridor leading to the barricaded mine. She bounces off of the wall, hits the ground, and uses the moment of peace to figure out what the hole happened. It wasn’t a precise strike of an invisible weapon, it was as if she hit an invisible wall, or more like if a wall hit her.

“Alright then,” One grins, “A battle of endurance it is then, little girl.”

Green passes through her chitin again, and she jumps out of the corridor to ground level where the unicorn is just watching from the same position she was before. Behind her, Bubbles flies through the air like a bullet straight at Two. The unicorn doesn’t even flinch.

Not bothering with speed or strength enhancements this time, One rushes straight at the mare. Her world spins as something grabs her by her legs, swings her in a long arc above Cryo and the minotaur, and breaks a fully grown tree in half with her. This does make One wince, although she wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Shifting her love usage again, One kicks herself off of the trunk with an empowered kick straight at the unicorn. Granted, if this hits, it will likely break most of her ribs, but that’s what magic users deserve anyway.

She hits, the blow finally connects. What it connects with, though, is what must be a completely invisible barrier surrounding the mare who grits her teeth a little. That’s when One turns invisible.

The unicorn backs off, but as expected, that reaction is painfully slow to what One can do, and she’s already rearing behind her, pouring love into her foreleg for a punch.

The punch almost touches the mare before stopping who kicks up with her hind legs in response, hitting One without any relevant effect other than a minor shove. Yes, compared to what One usually fights, the unicorn is fairly weak. As the unicorn turns around, One spits goo at her which once again hits the barrier.

This time, invisible One remains still, making the mare turn her head in an expectation of another attack from a surprise angle. Instead, One tiphoofs towards her, cocks her foreleg back, and swings.

Contradiction yelps when her telekinetic field faces something with the speed of a bullet and yet kinetic energy of a speeding train, but to her own surprise her telekinesis holds even without her having to draw upon her other power. Still, the black hoof an inch away from her face does make her frown as she calmly backs off from the invisible changeling now firmly caught and squirming in her telekinetic grip.

“YOU WILL NOT MAKE ME LOSE ANY MORE OF MY HIVE!” a roar makes her clamp her hooves over her ears.

The huge changeling starts flailing wildly at Anvil trying to hide between trees which shatter into splinters when faced with the rampaging beast.

“I think something made her really mad!” yells Anvil, instantly leaping away through the foliage.

What looks strange, though, is that the changeling doesn’t seem focused on her despite it being clear she had to see her escape.

“NOT YOU!” the changeling punches a hole through a thousand-year old tree, “AND NOT EVEN YOU!” with one vertical strike, she grinds a pony-sized boulder into gravel.

Short distance away from Anvil and the unfortunate forest facing Cryo’s devastation, Bubbles once again jumps at Two. She’s the only one who knows who everypony involved is from her time together with Three and Eleven, and as such she has zero desire to actually hurt Two despite the orders not to hold back. Besides, it’s not as if Two is a threat to her.

Then she gets hit by a hurled tree.

The trunk which would easily crush a building bounces off of the ground and the hole into which it pushed Bubbles. The demonette shakes her head, blinks few times, and gets smashed in the back of her head by a rock held in both Two’s forelegs.

“Ouch!” she snaps her jaws at the young changeling who backs off, gasping for breath from their intense battle… or what Bubbles would call playtime, really.

Suddenly, she feels a sting in her side, and her world turns into blurs.

One, having just punted Bubbles into the sky with a love-fueled kick, pats Two’s head.

“What -haah- is going -haah- on?” Two chokes out.

“Cryo,” One nods to the roaring and flailing titan.

Everything is white. Why is everything white? Wasn’t she in a forest in summer a moment ago? Snowing, here in Cant… here in… here up north? Cryo shakes her head, pulls out a spear jammed between her chitin chest plates with her teeth, and rams it into the eye socket of the minotaur foolish enough to attack the queen.

Crushing his ribcage with her hoof, she looks up only to face a muscular minotaur as tall as she is with an axe in each hand. The chieftain’s weapon bites into her chitin and breaks through, making her rear backwards in pain.

Three changelings rush at him to protect their queen, and one receives his remaining axe right through his muzzle. That’s enough time for Cryo to transform her hoof into claws which snap around the chieftain’s neck, and twist. After instant crunch despite the minotaur’s rope-like neck muscles, she throws the corpse into the snow.

“Crack their heads, I want to know where they came from,” says Cryo, and several infiltrators rush off to examine the snow drifts now red with blood of minotaurs, “Most of them are males, which means there’s a camp or a village somewhere nearby.”

She looks at the dark mountains towering ahead. For the past few days, the blizzard has been gathering strength, and it’s bound to strike soon at full force. She, as a queen, has been able to adapt to the frozen northern wastes during their months long march from Canterlot and so have most of her infiltrators. The drones and warriors were growing weaker and weaker, though.

“Your Majesty,” reports the current number One, a warrior trying to keep his voice steady despite the creeping cold, “We lost thirteen warriors, six infiltrators, and twenty drones,” he hangs his head low, “They surprised us completely. I take full responsibility for misjudging the threat.”

“If I had someone who could do it better, I would feed you to the survivors, but I don’t,” growls Cryo, “So take this as an opportunity to be a better changeling and adapt.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” he bows, happy to keep his life in a situation which he knows the majority of changelings wouldn’t survive.

“How do the minotaurs deal with this cold?” asks Cryo.

“Some wear pelts, your Majesty, and others use some kind of… ointment. Mostly, though, I assume they’re just used to this, having been born here.”

“Movement, ointment, pelts,” she walks over to the chieftain’s corpse, rips his head off, and examines it from all angles. Slicing his nose open with her claw, she shows it to One, “This. Structure of nose hair. Have an infiltrator examine and replicate it,” she tosses the head to One, “Trying to warm up just by moving is pointless if all it does is make us breathe more frozen air. Then take all their pelts and use them. If those don’t fit, make them fit. Make the unusable scraps into bandannas for those who won’t be wearing anything. If you find whatever that ointment thing, rub it on them too. We’ll see if it helps. If the weather gets even worse, we’ll need to find the minotaur village or we’ll have to march towards the mountains.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

With infiltrators scattering into the distance, Cryo resumes leading her hive into the mountains. This inhospitable part of the world bears many dangers, but there’s one huge benefit of it - if even her hive is having trouble with the weather, none of Chrysalis’ spies will ever find them.

Short time later, traps hidden in the snow snap, and chains suddenly wrapped around her legs pull her backwards. She howls along with the noise of blizzard in her ears.

Two’s jaw drops as she sees the unicorn mare’s horn glow sickly, sea green color…

...the same as massive see-through tentacles pulling Cryo away from the bleeding minotaur mare trying to push herself off of the ground and failing.

“Cryo! CRYO!” Two calls out, trying to break through the strange mental barrier surrounding the azure queen’s mind, “Auntie!”

“Whuh? Little beard?” Cryo notices the tentacles thicker than her torso dragging her backwards, “What’s going on? I’m being eaten by an octopus!”

“She’s okay!” reports Two, “Mom, punching time!”

“Already on it!” One charges at the unicorn.

“ALRIGHT, ENOUGH!” yells the mare.

A fresh tentacle rams into One mid-jump and smashes her against the ground several times. Two turns invisible, but gets instantly pulled into the air by something completely invisible, and grunts as she feels pressure tighten against her creaking chitin.

“Miss Connie, miss Connie!” Bubbles gallops out of the forest absolutely devastated by Cryo’s rampage, “Look whom I found!”

Bubbles isn’t alone. On her back, there’s a changeling tiny even in comparison to her, barely awake and making faint running motions with his legs. Limping behind, the remaining Elevens are struggling to get through the uneven terrain to the scene of the battle.

“What are those?” Connie shoves all held changelings together so that she doesn’t have to focus on all sides.

“That’s Eleven!” Bubbles carefully lowers the Eleven on her back on the grass, upon which the little changeling starts wobbling towards One, “He has a message for us and for the changelings.”

“For us?” Connie raises an eyebrow. Anvil has finally gathered herself, limped over to Connie, grabbed three suppressors, and put one on each changeling’s horn. Aside from Eleven, that is.

“...boss said… boss said not to fight. You have to... to come back to the castle... and help, because Three… Three got attacked by some guy... called Star Trail,” Eleven whispers. In the back, some Elevens previously wobbling in pairs to stay upright collapse, which makes Bubbles rush over and start carrying them to the clearing.

“...what?” whispers One in a tone that makes chill run down Two’s spine. Suppressor or not, before Connie turning the message over inside her head can react, One knocks her on the ground, standing on her and shaking her by her shoulders, “I THOUGHT YOU FUCKERS LOCKED HIM UP FOR GOOD!”

“I- d-d-d-d-d- ouch!” Connie bites her tongue when she tries to speak with One shaking her. Invisible force knocks One away, and the unicorn stands up on all fours, “I don’t know who that is.”

“We must get to the castle right the fuck now!” One interrupts her, “Eleven, how are Three and the boss?”

“Three’s okay, miss One. Mister Astray saved him on orders of some Cromach guy who was supposed to keep an eye on him after you escaped. He warned the boss about some things and wants to keep him and Three safe,” head Eleven is being propped up by Bubbles who has manage to recover the remaining ten now lying on the stomped grass nearby, passed out.

“What’s Cromach trying to do now?” Connie rolls her eyes, “Nevermind. Castle, now! We can sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sure...” Eleven wobbles his hoof, “I’ll be right… with you...” and he collapses out of sheer exhaustion.

Connie levitates several Elevens on each changeling’s back, one on Bubbles’, and one on her own. With few still lying down, she simply scoops them all up into a telekinetic hold.

“...wheee...” mumbles one weakly, making swimming motions with his legs.

Pointing towards where One knows is the entrance to lower Canterlot obscured by foliage, Connie glances at One and Cryo, saying:

“Don’t try anything funny, or I’m crushing those little guys and dealing with you next.”

“Monochrome beard is mad,” mutters Cryo. Two smirks.

Bright Star knocks on the door of princess Celestia’s room, and waits. Next to him, Ten’s helmet is hovering in the air. This early in the morning, the princess should just be waking up and getting ready to raise the sun. However, nothing happens for several minutes, so he repeats his knock. This time a maid passing by sees him, clears her throat, and says, clearly nervous from talking to a paladin:

“I apologize for disturbing you, sir, but the princess is with princess Luna in the castle infirmary.”

“Thank you,” Bright Star nods, and heads off.

Mulling over whether there was something more he could have done to save Ten would be pointless, but the first changeling paladin’s grim fate didn’t bode well for the relationship already strained by this whole event. First, he has to report to princess Celestia, and then… then he has to tell the bad news to the boss.

After Star Trail and the lich disappeared, he woke princess Cadance and prince Shining Armor up and explained what happened. The princess was crushed by Ten’s death, obviously knowing the changelings the best by now, while the prince rushed off somewhere, mumbling something about security.

Approaching the infirmary wing, Bright Star sighs. He’d been through wars, ambushes, conflicts of all kinds, and he knows how quick and random death can be. The knowledge doesn’t make dealing with it any easier, though, especially the death of somepony like Ten who, as originally Chrysalis’ throwaway changeling and survivor of previous Star Trail’s madness, know best that no tomorrow was certain.

Soon, he finds princess Celestia in a room guarded by two other paladins who lower their heads, knowing full well that the empty helmet Bright Star is carrying means the loss of one of them. The solar princess is sitting by a bed in which princess Luna is lying, both quietly talking to each other until he enters.

“No… not another attack,” Celestia breathes out. Bright Star looks at the floor, and nods.

“Yes, your Highnesses. Star Trail and some lich attacked princess Cadance. From what I understand, this wasn’t the first time. The method of attack was exactly the same - a widespread, powerful sleep spell, sound dampening spell, and this time also a pocket dimension created to avoid any visitors.”

“They trapped me in a pocket dimension as well after I defeated them in the dream realm,” Luna nods, “Any clues to who the lich is?”

“You said it was Magnus,” Celestia tilts her head in confusion.

“What? No, I didn’t,” Luna frowns.

“The guards said they heard you say his name before you passed out.”

“No, nononono!” Luna shakes her head, “I… I understood his -the lich is a stallion, that I’m sure of- intentions when his spell struck me. He wants to become immortal like Magnus, without blood sacrifices, without stealing bodies, or anything similar.”

“But aren’t liches already immortal by definition?” Celestia furrows her brows.

“Yes and no. Eternal existence doesn’t mean eternal life. I’ve known several mages you would consider… dark even though their intentions originally weren’t. There are things gnawing on you when you’re an undead, your body, soul, sanity. We bypass this because we are divine creatures. We and Magnus. He’s the only one who knows the secret to true eternal life without divinity.”

“The lich used some kind of energy draining magic on princess Cadance,” reports Bright Star, “and I believe he managed to complete the spell despite our interference.”

The paladin describes everything he can recall from the battle. When he gets to Ten’s death, Celestia lets out a long, drawn-out, heavy sigh.

“My little changeling, who liked my big butt a little more that was healthy...”

“You don’t know the half of what he dreamt about,” adds Luna, “May he rest in jiggly peace. Does king Beard know?”

Bright Star shakes his head.

“I wanted to find princess Celestia first. I’ll go inform the boss when I’m done here.”

He feels Celestia’s telekinesis grasp the helmet he’s holding.

“No, I’ll do it myself. It’s my duty to inform the families of the fallen,” she shakes her head, and stands up, “Sister, you did say the lich’s spell drained divinity from you, but that you know you’d be okay after enough rest. Could it be because the lich didn’t manage to channel it fully?”

“It’s possible,” Luna nods, “which means that like with Cadance, he will be back for me, and we know the castle isn’t safe. We just don’t know why. There’s good news in this, though.”

“Which is?”

“This isn’t about the summit. Queen Novo simply was the least guarded divine target, that’s all. Speaking of which, you really need to apologize to king Beard, sister,” Luna looks meaningfully at Celestia who nods.

“I will. Sadly, once again I get to realize the full extent of my mistake too late,” levitating Ten’s helmet, Celestia turns to Bright Star, “You did the best you could, Bright Star. Thank you.”

“I know you mean it, your Highness, but right now… words feel incredibly hollow. I’ll feel better once we figure out why the castle’s magic wards are providing us no protection in these dark days,” replies the paladin.

“Do you think Celestia is coming?” I ask as the sun sets, and darkness falls on the desert.

“Not sure how regularly, but I assume so,” Cromach shrugs. Seriously, he’s worse than my changelings, “If not, though, it would go a long way to explain why she’s so uptight all the time.”

“You know what I mean,” I roll my eyes, “We’ve been here for a day already. What if someone else got attacked? What if it was her and she can’t teleport us back?”

“I’d be way more worried about her relying on us getting back on our own with tied up Magnus in a bag,” he drums his talons on the table, “Wouldn’t be the first time...”

“Yer a bit too harsh on Sunny,” Zephyr chimes in from the counter, “Heck, I can barely run a diner without forgetting I have stew on a stove, and she has to run a whole country. At our age, it’s sometimes hard to hold a thought… and other things.”

“Yes, the idea of senile Celestia pissing herself in public, and yelling at guards on the lawn to get off certainly fills me with hope for the future,” smack my forehead against the table.

“Hmm, that image does make me want to take things into my own talons,” Cromach rubs his chin, “I mean, there’s a village with a train station not too far north from here,” looking at his backpack occupying one empty chair at our table, he asks, “So, you wanna head off?”

“Right now at night? Wouldn’t it be better to leave when we can see something?”

“I can go in the front,” Three raises his hoof, making pink lights dance around the room before sipping something sweet and chocolate-y Zephyr called Bailey’s when he pulled it out of a swirling hole in space.

“First time in the desert, I assume?” he reaches into his backpack, and starts rummaging in it. When I nod, he pulls out a jingling pouch, “Zephyr, do you still have desert gear for sale?”

“Sure. Just for the big buggo, though,” the alicorn reaches under the counter, and tosses me a fully loaded backpack which casually floats towards me on a swirling cloud, “I don’t have smaller ones.”

Cromach pulls out several gems from the pouch and leaves them on the table. A moment later they disappear.

“Care to explain at least something?” I ask.

“Well, it’s a really dumb idea to walk under the scorching sun. If you have a compass and know where you’re going, which we do, it’s way better to cross a desert at night. Aaand if you have sturdy boots in case of scorpions. I do, and you’re a changeling.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath. Screw it, Celestia has already proven to be incompetent beyond my worst nightmares.

“Let’s go,” I nod, and wave at the alicorn of Wind, “Thank you for your hospitality, mister Zephyr.”

“Yeah, thanks, Zeph,” Cromach smiles at him as well.

“Have a nice eternity, mister Zephyr,” Three waves his foreleg vigorously.

“See all of ya!” Zephyr taps his forehead and points to us, “Good luck with Maggie.”

And so, we head off into the sandy night.

Sandy night that gets colder and colder as hours pass. Aren’t deserts supposed to be hot? The only source of warmth right now is Three snoring above my backpack.

“I-i-i-i-is it n-n-normal that it’s s-s-so f-freezing?” I stutter out.

“Oh yes,” Cromach glances my way, “Water surfaces and natural storage like trees generally stabilize climate in an area, and since there’s nothing but sand around, deserts heat up easily, and when the heat dissipates at night, they get really cold. If I recall correctly, Zeph normally adds robes to the backpacks.”

“Y-you’re n-not bothered b-by the cold?” I ask, putting Three down, and rummaging in the back to finding something coat-like from white cloth.

Cromach shrugs as I figure out how to put the thing on.

“Not really. I wonder why you’re taking this temperature so bad. You know, changeling and one from the north on top of that. If the robe won’t be enough, we can camp for few hours in a tent. That should help.”

When I wrap the clothing around myself, the relief is almost instant, and with one look at the compass, I get ready to resume heading north.

“I didn’t want to burn love on figuring out adaptations to both freezing cold and scorching heat. Without that, I’m still a bug-like pony, and neither of those species enjoy cold much.”

With some space freed by the clothes, Three climbs into my backpack, and falls asleep again, only his dangling head peeking out.

I sigh.

“I wonder how the summit is going. Hole, I wonder if I’ll make it back in time to see the result.”

“Don’t worry, your Beardedness,” Cromach waves his foreleg, “Once we get to civilization, I’ve got friends who can spare us some walking time.”

“...friends are awesome...” mumbles Three, “...I had a friend gun once. It shot green hugs...”

With soft warmth of love trickling to me from Three falling asleep from gentle rocking of my walking, I power through the night, mostly in silence. As it turns out, Cromach is okay as well, although he’s been yawning quite heavily for the past hour. And eventually, light of the morning flows across the desert, heralding the dawn of the new day.

In the light off to the east, I can see movement.

“Cromach, are we near the town already?” I ask.

“No, we should still be about half a day away. Why do you ask?”

“I can see someone moving ahead. A lot of small figures.”

“Damn it!” he hisses, “You and Three need to shapeshift into ponies or griffons, now!”

“Three, wake up!” I mentally poke him.

“Mmmm? I’m up, boss.”

“We need to disguise ourselves immediately.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

In the next moment, I feel the weight inside my backpack shift, and when I turn my head, a sky-blue, yellow-maned pegasus colt is yawning at me.

My turn, I guess.

A unicorn would be useful, if I don’t want to be a griffon, since me being a pony might cover some of my lack of knowledge about the Griffon Empire in case I say or do something inappropriate.

“Big black unicorn, vivid blue mane, blue eyes,” Cromach appreciates my disguise, “Gotta admit, my heart is getting throbbed real hard here,” his laugh sounds somewhat hollow, though. Did my disguise remind him of something?

In the next ten minutes, it turns out that the figures on the horizon notice us, and a crowd of thirty-or-so griffons in gear similar to ours approach.

“Oh great… more nomads,” Cromach takes off the heavy axe from his back, “Can we be more unlucky?” he narrows his eyes, “Fuck, we can...”

“What’s wrong?” I frown.

“The guys in the back are pulling cages. These griffons are slavers. They’ll surround us, and then they’ll either tranq us or just beat us up. Get ready to kick ass.”

Soon, the slaver ranks split to spread around us, and Cromach straight up charges ahead, axe raised. He cleaves the nearest griffon in half including the sword he was attempting to block with. In a fluid motion, his sweeping swing decapitates another one.

I need to help him, though, because while his furious assault is leaving cripples and corpses in its wake, the swarming slaves are quickly surrounding him.

“Alright, Three, hold on tight!” I say, charging into the fray and feeling tiny legs grasp me through the backpack.

Even as a unicorn, when I swing my foreleg on a griffon who backs off, a burning love blade extends only for a second, and hacks his foreleg off before disappearing. Whenever I punch from out of range, more stabbing or slashing love weapons make up for the distance and permanently disarm, or disleg, enemies. Unlike Cromach, I’m careful not to kill anyone, although if they bleed out later it’s not exactly my problem.

Slashing my way to Cromach now surrounded by a ring of griffons hacked to pieces, I get in there just in time to notice pistols being drawn at him.

I jump in the way when the blasts echo through the desert. Cromach turns his head when I get hit, the bullets doing no damage. I might be a unicorn on the outside, but I sure as hay am used to fighting projectile weapons of way greater caliber than these.

“Thanks!” Cromach jumps forward, splitting the skull of another griffon raising a shotgun.

“Unicorn magic!” yells someone, “Take him down!”

When I turn my head away from Cromach, four griffons are already on me, dragging me down onto the sand. An emerald blade of my hoof stabs on clean trough, but his body is already on me, and in the next moment I’m staring up a barrel of a shotgun.

“Stop struggling or I’ll blow your head off!” says the griffon aiming at me while another one pulls Three out of my backpack and throws him on the ground. I could probably survive that, but I don’t doubt in the slightest they’d try something with Three to stop me.

More gunshots cut through the air. I can’t see what’s happening with Cromach, but I can hear crackling of electricity, even more gunshots, some groaning, and eventually a thud.

“Treat the big guy,” barks someone who sounds in charge, “A griffon like him will fetch a serious price on the market. Keep an eye on the unicorn, he knows some dangerous magic. As for the colt… farmers always need workers, and they like them young.”

A pair of forelegs screws a suppressor onto my horn shortly after.

Two griffons carrying tied up and heavily bleeding Cromach pass me, and throw him into one of the small cages with wheels in the back of the nomad crowd. Three gets thrown into another one, and I, under the shotgun guidance, step into another one.

The good part is that Three isn’t hurt at all, and I’m in a good shape. The bad part is that Cromach is unconscious, and judging by the amount of blood all over him, he’s knocking on death’s door, although one of the griffons is about to treat him.

Sitting down and closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.

All in all, this could have gone a lot better.

Author's Notes:

Salute to Ten.