“Are you sure they got them alright? The spells activated and everything? If their own production is not greater than the passive vacuum observed on that world you know what will happen!”

“Twilight” Starlight speaks calmly as she always has during my years of rule. I breathe in, hoof against my chest, then breathe out. How I missed Cadence, perhaps out of all of us her fate has been the most cruel. The waiting is over now, years of preparation. Nothing but a small blink in the eternal life of an alicorn, but it is not for my own struggles. No, it is the suffering of the ponies, the Yaks, the Gryphons, the Changelings, and all the other creatures I have fought hard to serve. Dozens disappearing daily as their loved ones petition me for aid I will not render.

“Twiiiilight.” Starlight says again to get my attention, waving her holographic hoof at me.

“Right, sorry.” I cough a little embarrassed.

“They have the pendants, ponies have died for this. We can’t afford to wait any longer, not with all that’s at stake. You know this, you promised this. Worrying and obsessing won’t get us anything until we reclaim the portal. We get that first, then we can worry about getting them all home.”

I nod to Starlight as she dispels her spell, the little music box she had possessed returning to its old shape. I smile briefly in remembrance of when our positions had been reversed. After she had heard of our surrender she had ran into the Everfree, disappearing into the unknown. Today, because of her we have a chance to strike back without losing everything we hold dear. I adjust my notes and nod to my ever faithful assistant Spike. “We are ready.”

With a flick the royal doors open at my command, even after all these years it still made my chest tighten a little with the roar of the crowds. Once upon a time I might’ve felt accomplished, but now their praise cut into my heart like a knife. Every day I had betrayed them, every day for years. The deal was that they wouldn’t kill them, but I had little in the way to confirm they had honored that promise. All this because I couldn’t make a sacrifice, because I had been fighting to win a no-win scenario.

As an alicorn, these years will haunt me to the end of my eternity. Today though, today will go down in our history as the day we take Equestria back. I stride onto the platform, the same one I had seen Celestia rise the sun from so many years ago. “Harmony give me strength.” I voice in quiet plea, before activating the canterlot voice for my speech.

“Ponies of Equestria! I welcome you all to the Grand Galloping Gala! This year has been long, yet no matter our hardships it is the same number as last year. Let us mourn for those lost, but remember. Today we stand together, today our losses are not just the scars that tear at our hearts. They are the resolve that will drive equestria into a brighter future!”

I eye the crowd, my ‘handlers’ I had come to identify watching me with a steely resolve. They had long since given up trying to hide, they knew I wouldn’t try anything with the hostages they held. That is to say, they had thought it would be. I give them a subtle nod, putting off their suspicion a little longer.

“Our elements might be split, fear might abound, divisions between our races might be more tense than ever. Yet I plead, no beg of you to come together in this trying time of our lands. I am not the Princess Celestia so many of you have wanted, Nor the Luna you have missed. I cannot hope to live up to their legacy of Love and Justice. Yet I promise you, this day I will strive to live their legacy.” My next words little more than a whisper. “No matter the cost.”

Then the bloodbath began. Ponies scream as quarrels erupt into the sides of dozens within the crowd panic erupts into chaos, then fear as they see the green blood bursting from their fallen foes. A platoon of Thestrals hidden in the alcoves combined with the might of my academy quickly felling dozens in various brutal ways, only some being non-lethal to my chagrin. They are as much slaves as we are, brainwashed from birth. Yet there was no other way.

“Ponies! Our land has been invaded! Your loved ones have been stolen, not killed, by Chrysalis! Cadence has been replaced once more, and their spies trot among us! Today we will strike back, together. Rainbow Dash is missing, and Fluttershy has joined the immortal stream of harmony. Yet today we have a chance to make things right. My ponies, my friends let’s take back Equestria together. WHO’S WITH ME!” I yell to the crowd that cheers in response.

“We fight not to harm our enemies, but to free our loved ones. I beg of you all to remember our allies. Thorax has strived and labored hard to help us get free of their influence. The zebra’s have worked to produce methods to detect their shapeshifters, the crystal ponies and yaks are leading a coup to retake the crystal empire, the hippogriffs are patrolling their routes. We fight together, united as one Equestria! Now let’s go put that cockroach back in her shell!

The crowd rallies together, they are not soldiers, but this war will not be won with the weapons of war, but the tools of peace. Now I can only hope that our children can survive with what we’ve given them. First we retake our homeland, then we can take back the mirror.

Now I just have to hope the strike team can make good use of our distraction and retake the portal, without it the lives of an entire generation would become blood in the sand.

“Tell me again, one more time what you saw.” We had picked up a bunch of punks off the road earlier tonight. We’d received a call earlier while I was answering an emergency call from the hospital, said call had been incredibly disturbing in that everyone had said things were fine. In fact no one remembered calling, though the screams on the other end and the chatter we’d heard had only confirmed the supernatural was likely at work.

“I’m telling you, this girl was inhumanly fast. Not just exaggerating either. After she outright attacked one of my buddies for no reason we ran after her, didn’t want her getting away for assault. Ricky had to be hospitalized for that hit. No way we were gonna let that little bitch get away with murder!”

I nod my head tiredly, but their story was BS of course. We’d received a call about the theft earlier that had been a lot more truthful. Not that we’d tell them that of course, not tell I got all I needed out of them. “Go on, we’re gonna look for her, no doubt. Tell me more about her jump.”

“It was insane man, we chased her to the top of the roof of the nearby building. She had robbed us after all too.” He added offhandedly. “Then the air got all tingly and smelled like electricity, then she just jumped!” He paused to breathe talking in a rush “A fucking lightning bolt struck her! Then she turned into a damn bird and flew away!”

I keep taking down notes of the report, most other days I’d pass this off as drug-addled rambling.Though the paranormal had started seeming a bit more believable lately, from the corpse we had picked up earlier this week, to the assassination on the murder suspect, and the recent event at the hospital. Just wish we could get more forces, our small town just too much for me and the small station to handle.

“And that is all…?” I inquire, trying to see if I can get any more details. They hadn’t given me much on her appearance, well at least much of anything consistent. The details would vary, but the story was more or less the same between them. I had been able to contact an old war friend in the pentagon, but he’d essentially told me the entire department was under a gag rule for national security. His team took the creature for an autopsy, and confirmed it wasn’t the only one they had seen. In return he had promised that he’d be sending down a team of investigators that I hadn’t heard a peep from all week.

“Too old for this shit.” I mutter, only two of them we had enough confirmation to claim for the night though. The rest just had misdemeanor trespassing and would just have a few fines to pay off. Nothing I can do about it but paperwork, but a secret this big can’t last long. I’ll get my answers one way or another. No weird Alien bug creature is going to get away with hurting people in my town. Semper Fi, I was a soldier not a spy but an oath isn’t something that expires with age and I was damn well going to honor it.

“Hey Redmond? We found something else lying around...”

I groan in frustration as I scrub my flan--hip with an alcohol swab, the entire area aches from the friction but looks no different. The mark itself is a red heart wrapped in a pink bandage with white sparkles around it. Identical on both sides and both tinged red from the rubbing.

“Honey! It’s time for dinner!” My aunt calls through the door making me curse under my breath as I quickly throw away the cotton swabs and clean myself up a bit. Looking into the mirror it’s nearly impossible to see any actual changes. My eyes have a slight tinge to them, but the horn emerging through my skull is small enough my hair easily covers it. I exit and head towards the table where the rest of my family, including my father this time (because its the weekend) is waiting for me.

“Geeez brother.” My sister whines as I sit down. “Was worried you’d drowned in there, we’re all starving!”

I’m too stressed to be bothered though and sit down in silence, my dad making us all sit together for prayer despite my protests. Unlike the rest of my family I didn’t really buy into the whole religious thing very much, but knew better than to voice my concerns with my father around.

After he finishes we all grab our plates and head over to the counter to grab the food my sister and aunt had made. It’s hamburger night, but my sister has made herself a pasta salad instead for herself. I take notice for a moment that it smells a lot better than I thought it would be before my stomach clamps as I feel bile form at the back of my throat at the smell of the cooked meat hits my nose. Though it smells mostly the same as before it makes my gut file for mutiny and I am forced to turn away, heading to the window for some fresh air.

“Something wrong son?” My father asks, watching me curiously.

“F-fine fine!” I reply with a forced smile.

“Arty had me drive him to the hospital earlier this week, but hasn’t said a word about it.” My aunt states bluntly, making her disapproval quite clear as I grit my teeth. “You’ll need to have a talk with him later because he sure won’t say a word to me about it.”

Without saying a word to feed that particular problem I start scooping up a large pile of pasta before returning meatlessly to the table. I can’t even make a single bite before my dad swoops in again.

“Not eating burgers, son?” He inquires sounding more accusatory than genuinely curious. He had really started getting on my back after I had refused to go on a date he and my aunt had set me up with on several occasions at the last school I had attended. At this point I think they at least would have a clue, but I think they just refuse to say it for fear of confirming it.

“Oh! Does this mean you’re going vegetarian?!” My little sister squeaks with excitement, practically bouncing out of her chair at the prospect. Today she was definitely a lifesaver as I give her a wicked smile before giving a small nod, desperate to change the conversation.

“I suppose I am, you know I keep hearing about how cutting down on meat helps so much with your health and all…” I drone before high-fiving my sister from across the table before digging into my meat-free dinner completely famished from all the events from earlier.

Their questions continue to mount as I try to get through my dinner, eating much faster than usual in an attempt to get away, despite knowing that my stomach is going to hurt later. My headaches a little bit, and my hips sting as I adjust my posture in my wooden seat. Everything about this house just screams ‘old’ to me and I hate it.

“Since you’re being unusually secretive about your medical visit I’ll just draw my own conclusions until you decide to talk to us then.” My father drones on, his stern bossy demeanor playing over his features. “Lyndsey tells me you’re hanging out with a group after school, something we’ve been getting after you to do.” He pauses. “But if they’re the kind of people that are gonna be a bad influence on you, you will cut ties. Should ask them to hangout here sometime, perhaps one of them will give us a better answer for why my son is getting into drugs…”

I nearly choke on my pasta as I force myself to swallow properly. The irony is not lost on me, after all I had thought the very same thing at first. “Dad, we didn’t take anything. In fact my blood was tested for drugs, no doubt you’ve already seen the invoice of all the tests they did.” I growl, making my displeasure evident at them poking their noses around my business again. “I just had a panic attack and concussion.” Keep it simple, easy to remember, easy to say, and way way easier to explain.

He glowers across the table at me about that, before squinting slightly. “Guess that explains the little bruise you have there then.”

I tense at the mention of it, which I’m more than sure he noticed but I just need to keep playing it cool. “Still visible huh?” I reply, “was really hoping it’d have disappeared by now...feel like the wreck after what happened.”

He nods, a bit more empathetically. “The vice principal called us about the whole incident, the guy you spilled everything over was apparently a good sport about it. You’re incredibly darn lucky you didn’t get into trouble.” He chastises, taking another bite of his absolutely vile burger as the scent wafts across the table making my stomach churn.

After that we eat for a little longer before he speaks again. “The fall dance is coming up, isn’t it?” I nod, internally rolling my eyes at the comment he is no doubt about to make. “You’re going to ask a girl out to it, I don’t bloody well care who but you will go out and socialize properly. You hear me? If you don’t ask someone by Wednesday I’ll have Lindsey choose for you. Got it?”

I grumble unintelligibly in response, it was always a pain when my father came home. Especially after changing between locations, that seemed to put the stress on everyone. Deep down I know he cared, but he just had a really rough way of showing it.

With dinner concluded I dismiss myself from the table, fatigue starting to hit me like a wave as I crawl to my bed. The haze of sleepiness hanging over my head like an anvil making everything seem slow and exhausting. Not sparing a moment I change my clothes and curl up with my pillows. “What a day.” I say to myself before succumbing to the sweet bliss of sleep.

Agent Kizakstan certainly wasn’t happy about being re-assigned from his incredibly successful position within the middle east at identifying cyberterrorists while launching counter campaigns to gather further intel. His pet project he had worked for just over four years being without him just filled his head with worry.

Turning his head he eyes his new ‘partner,’ no doubt a greenhorn. Her appearance though passable for typical formality was appallingly obtuse for someone in the art of intelligence. Her clothes had colors too vivid, her hair too well straightened and the dye covering it was quite obvious. The perfume she was wearing was likewise extravagant one that would no doubt elicit memories of her purpose.

“Agents?” A much older man with glasses and wrinkled skin enters from a door nearby carrying an iPad. “I’m Doctor Mantchev, if you would follow me.” Being the only two in the waiting room certainly leaves no doubt who he was referring to. Kizak was just hoping that it’d be worth being transferred from his very successful project.

“I assume we’ll be getting answers for why we’ve been reassigned so quickly? I had a very important job where I was before I’ll have you know.” Kizak states as they follow after the scientist. The security here was intense as he sees the doctor prick his finger on a pad then hold his wrist up to some sort of RFID scanner.

“I’m sorry, but before you get any answers we need to confirm that you are both who you say you are.” He picks up a thick and crude iron rod and holds it out. Thoroughly curious I grasp it after a moment of hesitation as does my new ‘partner.’

“And what, pray tell is this supposed to tell you?” Kizak’s partner asks, releasing as the doctor sets the object back into a slot before pulling the plastic off of a tiny needle.

“One of two things, please, have patience. Once we discuss what your next mission is you will truly understand, but I promise you that what we’ve discovered is more important than anything you’ve ever been assigned before. Half your team is already in deployment and waiting for you.”

Thoroughly intrigued we both submit to a small prick without further issues. The doctor seeming satisfied without even doing any tests on the blood extracted. Moving deeper into the facility we are both brought into a medical room which looks about as standard as it gets. “As part of this assignment you will both be implanted with a micro-device so that we can verify who you are without extensive testing each time. Our enemy has a means of copying anyone and most anything they can see with few exceptions.”

“What, you mean like shapeshifters or some advanced cosmetic sculpting? I got to admit its not the most extreme thing I had in mind, but with today’s advances I wouldn’t put it past a few other developed nations making that kind of tech.”

The doctor hesitates a few moments before replying. “If you’ll both consent, we’d like to get these implants over with. After the mission concludes, one way or another we will happily have them removed from you in accordance out of respect for your privacy. Yet I really feel you’ll choose to keep them after what you see what we have.”

We both submit to the implants, wincing as a large needle stabs into our palms, just below our thumbs before retracting. There isn’t even a lump but the spot aches regardless as we’re bandaged up and follow the doctor still further, using our ID’s to get into a bio-containment zone.

“What I don’t get doctor, is why are we called to this facility for this mission? Surely you know about all the absurd theories of aliens as much as we have about this place.” He chuckles as they start putting on the various biohazard suits, aided by a few other assistants with similar apparel.

“Because, Mr. Kizakstan.” The doctor states as we pass through the decontamination chamber and through the 6 inch steel door. “Theories have become a lot more real as of late.” The both of us gape as we stare down the long hall.

“When do we begin?” We both ask near simultaneously.

“That’s what we want to hear.” The scientist remarks.

Tonight was a big night. After Arty had been given a ride home my father had returned and told me to wash up. Tonight I would be getting my first runes, markings that he said would help me channel the powers of my ancestors. Of course the thought of getting tattoos wasn’t all that appealing, but my father assured me they wouldn’t exactly work that way.

It wasn’t quite the full moon just yet, but it was getting closer. Every time I had shifted lately had felt better and better. The change itself becoming more painless with every iteration as it felt like my body adjusted to the change. One day I wondered if I might not change back, but it was fairly quickly pushed away. There wasn’t enough magic here for that from what dad had told me.

“We probably won’t be seeing any more of your mother tonight after earlier, but we can make sure that you’ll be able to interact better in the future. Did you look through the markings I gave you to study earlier this week?” I nod, remembering the practicing I’d done in the margins of my notes at school this past week. I could barely even stay awake at school anymore anyways. Especially during the later periods, my body quickly adapting to the night schedule.

“Tonight we’re going to try to keep it simple, whatever your friend did has helped make a bit of an aura here - but it isn’t all that much just yet. So we’ll make sure the runes you get are able to be sustained by it.” He writes a bit on a piece of paper and drops it in front of me to read. Soul, Sight, and Stealth. All rather self explanatory on their own, they weren’t exactly spells or enchantments in the way of earth ponies and unicorns. More like instructions for our ancestors to fill and aid with when we activated them.

“Draw them” My father instructs, sitting down next to me as he waits, watching me trace their runes into the dirt in front of me. It’s definitely not the best of hoof-writing as my dad calls it, many of my lines are curved or a bit sloppy but I think the idea comes across well enough. He nods, seeming to be satisfied after he adjusts a few lines. “Not bad, are you ready to draw them?”

I nod in affirmation, holding out my hoof as he unstraps his blade and passes it to me. As I tighten on the straps of the blade it seems to adjust its size to match. However strapping on the blade with a hoof proves a bit too much for my current skills and my father steps in to help me get it strapped in properly. He told me the process itself is painless, this time I was using the other side of the blade, the one in the pommel that is shaped into a small elegant knob that ends in a mostly dull point, a stele he had called it. This, my father had instructed was for carving runes on ourselves, others, and our environments. Though it was tradition for the first runes a Thestral made to be drawn by their own hand, or hoof, in this case.

I take a deep breath, feeling my heart pulsing. I lower it towards my chest for the first one, then pause. Wait, what happens if I mess up? I look to my dad then mime a writing movement with my hoof then draw a purposely sloppy rune before messing up the end then slowly crossing it out.

“Mistake?” He asks to clarify and I nod. “Don’t worry, they can be washed with water blessed under moonlight and they fade over time too. Though comforting it did little to wash around the anxiety of the moment. “Just go slow and steady” he says watching me. “We have plenty of time before sunrise.”

I take a deep breath and start drawing, my skin tingles and makes my fur stand on end as I trace over my chest. Next time I should probably trace it with charcoal or something first. I feel a faint warmth as I continue, leaving stark white lines that keep glowing as I finish drawing the ‘Spirit’ rune on my chest, the last stroke more satisfying than I would have thought. It glows for a moment longer then fades to a barely visible outline.

My father pats my back as I finish. “Well done! That will be a huge help when the full moon comes around.” He lays down on the ground next to me the excitement on his face making him look akin to a puppy. I smile a bit as I start tracing the next one on my left leg ‘Stealth’ perhaps this one would be a bit more interesting.

“And they’re just going to let you take them?” An irritated woman clad in a dark suit asks, watching her surroundings with distaste. “If it was so simple I would have just taken them myself and been done with it.”

“If you hadn’t played your hand years ago with that mockery of an invasion you would’ve.” The man chuckled, grinning like a cheshire. “They would know what you are the instant you tried to get through the door. You need me, and I’ll be holding you to your part of the bargain before--”

“Yeah yeah, before I can put a hoof on the artifacts.” After that though… she thought, well, he would have expended his usefulness. Not that she had any doubt that he wouldn’t be aware of said fact, but that hardly mattered at this point. These humans were only slightly more complex than the ponies she had played like a fiddle, a couple years and she’d rule them too.

That is, if her other partner did her part correctly on the equestrian side. That one definitely would be a challenge, but she could always deal with it later. This world definitely had lots of options for such messy arrangements.

She eyed his suitcase for a minute more, confirming that her little package was ready before nodding as he exits the vehicle and heads down towards the building’s entrance. As soon as he passes through the doorway she turns the car around and heads back out -- not she trusted the military contractor further than she could buck him.

“Jacob Martin?” the security officer asks as I enter the building, looking him over and watching with skepticism. “Access code?” He asks waiting patiently.

“TD4V65” He confirms, one of the safeguards added in place after the discovery. His eyes roll as they prick his forearm for a blood sample. Using finger pricks had quickly been ruled out by medical professionals early on. Apparently none of the officials were wanting finger scars. Though from what he heard they just got implants instead.

“Purpose and contacts?” The guard asks tiredly looking at his list and holding up a phone to dial. He pushes his suitcase through the scanner withstraining his smirk as it goes through without a hitch.

“Commander Richards.” He states while waiting for the guard to dial in and confirm the meeting. All this security about an enemy they didn’t fully understand, something he knew better than all those morticians trying to study corpses. He’d be a hero when all was said and done, so what if he didn’t earn a few billion and more power than money could ever buy from it?

After gripping the cold iron bar offered and showing his unburned palm then finally let him through. It takes only a few minutes for him to be escorted to the meeting room before they salute and depart leaving us to our own.

The commander finishes writing a bit on his report before pushing it aside. “Good afternoon commander” Martin greets him casually while shaking hands setting the briefcase to the side, casually knocking it on the floor, the clasps falling apart with a silent click.

“Spare me the sentiment Martin.” The commander drolls eyeing him with a glare. “You’re here to sell us something, from your call you said it would help us with our...Xeno issue?” He had been heavily opposed to Martin’s security clearance issue on the matter, but he had been there during the first attack those years ago. Not to mention how he’d been able to place his assets into the studies afterward...with a little help from the buggers.

“Oh come now Richard, this is just basic capitalism. You remember how my organization finally helped you guys fix those issues with the damned F-35 project? Tell me I haven’t provided critical service to our nation in the past.” He grunts at that before waving his hand cutting Martin off further.

“Just show me what you have come up with. I have…” He looks at Martin sternly then clears his throat. “I have other issues to deal with today.” Now that piqued Martin’s curiosity, but that would have to wait until later. Martin smiles at him in return before bending over to retrieve his now mostly empty briefcase pulling out a small manilla file.

“Here is our latest prototype to try to catch one of the buggers alive, as you recall during their last attack they tended to suicide on capture and appeared to silently coordinate and respond to events as a whole and--”

Shnick!

He watches as the commander goes limp, one of the changelings he had snuck in through the case having sunk their fangs into their neck. The toxin bypassing the blood brain barrier within seconds making their struggle end before they can even make a sound. Not much though...just enough to be suggestible as the other changeling’s horn glows and they make eye contact as the hypnosis slowly starts to take effect.

“Now, Commander Richards, I know you have access to certain relics that your organization has slowly procured over the years from archives from various ancient civilizations. You will take us to these vaults and grant us access.”

He garbles something unintelligible in response, the changeling trying to hypnotize him not breaking eye contact but speaking in raspy broken english. “A ss-strong one, too much venom would obviouss make. Have to do the hard way” they hiss.

“Well you better hurry, we’re on a timer here.” It takes a few more minutes for them to be satisfied with their brainwashing or whatever they wanted to call it. The effects would wear off given time -- from what Martin understood they have to use it regularly to entrench any longer lasting effects. They couldn’t use the same method on him because they needed Martin to act in ways simple orders couldn’t qualify, not to mention his intellect and knowledge of the organization as a whole. They just wouldn’t know the right questions to ask and the amount of venom needed would likely make the answers a bit suspect.

Keep your allies close, and your enemies closer. Martin thinks to himself, reminiscing about the clever phrase. With the Commander properly broken Martin recite the orders again, waiting for him to nod. Moments later they’re following him down the hall to the elevators the changelings put back in the case, waiting as he scans his arm and enters in the codes. The cameras here aren’t something they could really fix, but after a little convincing about the brainwashing that had been done to the commander it’d be easy enough to bluff. They could suspect him all they wanted, but at the end of the day his company was still their primary source for military vehicle production. Gotta love some good ol’ capitalism.

They enter the elevator and start to descend. The elevator is well built, if a little aged as they descend with only the occasional creaking. The Commander just stares blankly forward, lacking any of the usual movement that you’d expect. Not a twitch, no gentle swaying, blinking seems exaggerated but precise. Just how unnatural they look in the brainwashed state makes Martin’s hair stand on end.

Eventually the ride ends with a click as the heavy doors open. Two people are on duty to watch the archive. Of course there would be, Martin thinks to himself. Each is armed with AR-15s and in full military garb, not to mention with reinforcement likely behind their posts. He tries to force his posture to relax as they move closer, keeping the Commander ahead of him.

“Need to access the vaults.” The Commander states in an obviously fake tone, as Martin very strongly resist the urge to facepalm. The sentries, not being complete idiots immediately level their weapons at him.

“Sir, we’re gonna have to ask you to step away. We will not hesitate to shoot either of you.” One of them instructs, Keeping only one hand on their rifle while their other presses something on their side.

This is going to go to hell really quickly Martin thinks as the situation draws itself out. Every moment is another time for reinforcements to arrive. He set down his briefcase, triggering it to open the latches just by the motion before raising his hands in the air and standing back. Hoping those bugs can pull off a miracle here.

The Commander just stands there unmoving without further orders to move him forward. The soldiers wait, the situation gathering tension as they wait. Martin’s mind races for a way to still get the artifacts but all that goes out the window when the two changelings just change from their benign forms and charge. Gunfire erupting moments later as he dives to the side, a stinging pain erupting in one of his legs as he feels hot blood drip down his calves.

He’s not a soldier, hell he wouldn’t even consider himself brave so Martin huddled in a tight ball as the battle unfolds. The bullets ricocheting around the reinforced room, yet his curiosity overwhelms a bit of his fear as he forces himself to watch as the creatures launch themselves forward at blinding speed. One of them trailing green blood as they reach the two lookouts. Once they get into close quarters it’s just over. The soldier tries to grab their knife and engage in melee but the smaller size of their opponent makes it akin to a dog attack as they scream in pain as they dig in.

The other soldier valiantly holds his ground, hesitating several precious moments as he refuses to shoot as his ally. By the time he snaps out of it and starts shooting he only manages to take out one of them, his rifle clicking empty before he too is taken down in a brutal bloody fashion doing only marginally better than the other by cutting at the changeling’s wings and leg. Martin’s stomach revolts as he vomit until the concrete floor, they’re still screaming in agony left to bleed out and suffer.

When he feels a tap on his shoulder he can’t resist a scream as the remaining Ling is staring at him with disgust and hardened boredom. “Hurry, or we kill you too.” They hiss making their displeasure evident at his cowardice. Refusing doesn’t cross his mind for an instant, glad that he wasn’t on the wrong side of this war. He then proceeds further into the vault, hobbling on his wounded leg that one of them spat something slimy on to stop the bleeding.He leans on the unflinching Commander that doesn’t bat an eye as they step through the carnage.

The Commander ever so slowly starts unlocking the cases. There are several, but as evidenced from the first one most of it is filled with foam and preserving materials. These husks of artifacts look thousands of years old, and most look like little more than shiny jewelry or trinkets than anything truly dangerous. They’d lost their power long ago, or at least rapidly after their discovery. Martin hadn’t found of any human means to refill or restore their energy according to the archives they had taken before the mission. He didn’t know if the changelings could refill them or not but they seemed pretty worthless to them before.

They manage to gather a few of the cases, yet its an annoyingly small amount of the stockpile. Each of them separated and locked away in different compartments that meant for any kind of extraction to be slow. They barely get to the third casket by the time they hear the thundering of troops heading down the hall and the frenzied yelling.

Martin is skeptical about the exit strategy, but they had proven themselves so far. “You uh...got the teleport thing? We got all we can, if we don’t leave now we won’t recover anything.” He grabs the artifacts they’d been able to retrieve so far, stuffing them into his suitcase or in the other casket.

The changeling mutters something that was probably offensive in their primitive language glaring at them as their horn starts to glow, green fire erupting around Martin and the retrieved stockpile forming a ring of the unnatural fire. A dome forming over them, the ground below him seeming to liquify as it drags him downward the ground swallowing him up. Its suffocating from all angles, feeling the dirt and rock grind against him as it passes him like a thick muddy lake. Breathing keeps getting harder and harder as the pressure of the rock pushes in against his chest, Martin chooses not to think about how he’s even getting oxygen as it seems to pick up speed as it drags him away from the greatest heist of his life.