The ceiling light inside Thirteen’s solitary cell turns on, the door clicks, and two crystal unicorn wardens walk in, electrified blackjacks at the ready. When they don’t see anypony, they quickly exchange worried glances, and both come to a horrifying conclusion. If the changeling isn’t anywhere inside, then she must be above them, ready to lunge.

Pushing buttons on the handles their blackjacks to, as they say, light ‘em up, they hear the crackle of high voltage and blindly swing above their heads even before they look.

Nothing. The changeling isn’t there.

One of the right warden’s ears twitches as he hears something akin to a sigh from what just might be the only dark place in the room. He taps on the other warden’s shoulder before pointing his blackjack under the bed the metal legs of which are screwed to the floor like the vast majority of furniture in the prison.

Neither of the wardens is stupid enough to stick their heads under the bed where there might be a creature with enough teeth to make a shark beg for its mother. However, considering that the entire bed frame is made of metal, that there’s very little space under the bed, and that the mare imprisoned here is almost twice their height, one of them simply nods, presses the blackjack to the leg of the bed, and presses the button.

“EEEEP!” a black, chitinous blur shoots out from under the bed, hits the wall on the other side of the room at full speed, and bounces off, ending on its back, “Ughh...” Thirteen moans, eyes crossed and tongue lolling out from the side of her mouth.

She recovers from the shock quickly, though, as her semi-conscious mind catches the sight of two wardens standing above her, and gives her a mental kick. Sitting upright and raising her forelegs in front of her face, she peeks between her hooves at the two stern stares aimed her way.

“Why were you hiding there, prisoner?” asks one warden.

“I- I- I...” Thirteen takes a slow breath, “It’s dark and cramped. It feels like home,” she answers with a nervous chuckle, “Are- Are you here to interrogate me to find my hive? To...” she lowers her voice as her eyes go wide, “To beat any resistance out of me and use my body to satisfy yourself until I’m nothing but a drooling mess that so desperately needs your touch that I’m willing to betray my own kind just to feel you and other wardens have your brutish way with me?”

“W- What?” the wardens step backwards as one, “No!”

“...no one ever wants to use my body as a cock sock...” mumbles Thirteen to herself.

“Is she alright in the head?” asks a warden the other one, “Moving her might not be a good idea.”

“Orders from the top,” shrugs the other, and grabs slumped Thirteen’s shoulder, “Hey, changeling! You’re being transferred from solitary to a common cell. Move!” he pulls at her.

“Okay okay okay.” Thirteen breathes in and out, stands up, and takes a step forward while completely forgetting about the shackles on her legs, “Aaah!” she plants her face into the floor.

“Enough of this nonsense,” a warden pushes a small slider on his blackjack, and pokes Thirteen’s raised backside.

“Owowowowow!” her hind legs involuntarily push her forward through the door to get away from the sharp sting of electricity. Only then, as the wardens lock her cell, she gets the time to get back up on all fours properly.

Careful about taking shorter steps, she walks between the wardens through the corridors of the prison until she reaches more open areas with wider hallways on upper floors where she’s been only for mealtime and the terrifying activity time outside. Eventually, as one side of the hall turns out to be filled with barred doors allowing full view of inmates inside, Thirteen concludes that this is where the more common prisoners are kept.

A whistle from a cell she’s passing by makes her look at a mare who wiggles her eyebrows at her, and gives her underhoof a long, suggestive lick. Thirteen’s eyes snap down at the floor immediately, followed by a chuckle from the cell. As the prisoner transfer keeps going, more hollers, whistles, and rather descriptive offers reach Thirteen’s ears, making her blush.

“She’s enjoying it, Cadance almighty...” the warden on her left shakes his head.

“Race of four-legged fleshlights, really,” the other one rolls his eyes, stops, and tugs at Thirteen’s short tail. The sharp pull snaps Thirteen out of her private, unpleasant world and makes her give the warden a questioning glance, which he answers with, “We’re here. Your new ‘home’.”

Several clicks later, the barred door slide to the side, and another electrified poke, although this one clearly on the minimal setting, ushers Thirteen inside.

“Usual rules,” the warden raises his voice, “No violence and no you-know-what!”

“Uhh, don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt anyone-” Thirteen turns around to reassure the warden who only nods at the upper bunk of the two beds by one wall over which hangs a single taloned foreleg.

“Not exactly talking to you, changeling,” says the warden, “We dragged the last pegasus from here, and while I’m no doctor, that guy isn’t gonna be flying any time soon, if ever.”

Thirteen shuffles backwards into the far corner.

“Can I go back to the solitary, please?” she pleads, “I liked it there. It was quiet, I couldn’t mess anything up, hurt anypony, or-”

The sentence dies halfway through as the wardens simply lock the door and leave, ignoring her completely.

Alright, Thirteen. You’re on your own now. Five and mom taught you to fight a little, and even though you got beaten up within few seconds from both of them, that doesn’t mean ponies are going to be on their level. Calm down, breathe, and try to do things Three’s way… even though that’s what landed you in this mess in the first place.

Gathering her courage, she says:

“Hello?”

Magpie rolls over when he hears Thirteen’s familiar, hesitating voice, and sees no one in the cell. A look downwards at the bottom bunk doesn’t clarify the situation whatsoever.

“Yes?” he raises an eyebrow, “Thirteen, was it?”

“Mhm!” comes from under the bed.

“How did she…?” he hops off, and hears a gasp as he lands, “You’re as tall as I am, and even though you’re skinny, there’s no way you can fit under that without shapeshifting or dislocating something. Stop hiding, I won’t hurt you. Emperor’s talons, you know I’m Gem’s friend.”

“I’m flexible,” replies Thirteen, clearly from under the bed now, “Umm… is there less space in here than under the bed in the solitary?”

“Yep,” Magpie rolls his eyes.

“Theeeeen I think I’m stuck...”

After taking a deep breath, and a quick smack of his forehead against the bed frame, Magpie lies down on the floor, and tries in vain to understand the impossibility of Thirteen actually being somehow all underneath it with no bits sticking out.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll raise the bed, and you squeeze yourself out.”

“I think my hind leg is in my mouth,” the bed wiggles.

“HOW?!” Magpie’s eye twitches.

“I don’t know, I got scared! Please, don’t yell at me anymore…” the suddenly pleading voice adds a quiet, ”mom.”

“What?” after a quick facetalon, Magpies sighs, “Alright, do you want to stay there?”

“If you don’t mind… for a while...”

“Your call,” the griffon decides that he’s done enough caring for today, hops back up onto the top bunk with a flap of his wings, and can’t help the corner of his beak curling up when he hears a quiet ‘Oof!’ when the bed sags under his weight, “You still okay down there?” he asks after a moment.

“Just… practicing… fitting… into tight spaces...” wheezes Thirteen, clearly running out of breath on the last word.

“Alright, screw this! I’m not killing Gem’s sister on accident,” he jumps down again, “Look, the beds up here aren’t screwed down, because no one can use them to bash a warden’s skull in. I’m gonna pull you out.”

“Waitwaitw-hnnng!” Thirteen’s objection is rapidly cut off as Magpie hops up and down on the bottom bunk once, the changeling quickly getting on his nerves.

“Now, if you bite me or something,” he pauses, not wanting to freak out Thirteen further, “I’ll tell Gem about this.”

Sitting down on the floor, he heaves with one foreleg, pushing the bed upwards. With his other one, he reaches under it into what seems to be an indistinguishable mess of chitin. Touching something squishy, he pulls back, but when he doesn’t receive any response, he grabs the nearest thing he can, and pulls.

He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees that the squishy thing through which he threaded his talons was just Thirteen’s leg hole.

She doesn’t dare move, somehow having all four legs in front of her as if hogtied and twisted into a pretzel, she just keeps looking at Magpie with her brown eyes wide open.

“Can you move?” he asks, “Now that you’re out, I understand even less how you managed to fit in there.”

Thirteen’s legs twitch, and then-

“Uuugh...” Magpie leans backwards.

-with a set of sickening crunches, her legs twist and turn until the knots under her chitin snap into positions at least remotely resembling those of a pony.

“Owww,” Thirteen pushes herself up, stumbling around for a moment and hissing in pain, “I’ll feel this one tomorrow.”

“I think I’ve just tasted yesterday’s dinner again,” the griffon winces, “And I’ve slashed a minotaur’s jugular once with my beak.”

“Wait, really?” Thirteen sits down on the bed, and stretches her legs with a fresh set of crunches, “That’s so awesome!”

“What?” Magpie raises an eyebrow, “After Gem and Three, am I finally meeting the bloodthirsty part of your hive?”

“Heh heheh,” Thirteen scratches her head, “No no no, I don’t want to hurt anyone, but since I hatched, mom wanted me to learn to fight like she can, and it’s awesome to see someone who can do that. I did my best, but I’m just… a screw-up,” her excitement turns cold in an instant.

“Look,” Magpie waves his foreleg dismissively, “From what Gem told me about her- your mother, I’m pretty sure she could make me eat my own legs and then thank her for it. To be frank, one thing I admire about Gem the most aside from her ass is her aversion to violence. I’d try to be like her, but in absence of mind control and will-shattering sex appeal I usually resort to a mace.”

“Wouldn’t sword or a gun make it easier?”

“They would, and that’s exactly why I use a blunt weapon instead.”

“Should I just become a pacifist like Gem?” Thirteen leans against the wall, “That way I could tell mom I have a reason not to accept more of her attempts at training me.”

“Thirteen, I am really not the right griffon to talk to about life philosophy,” Magpie jumps onto his bunk, “So if you want to be a pacifist and you really believe its the right thing, be one, but from the look in your eyes, I doubt that’s the case. It’s none of my business, though.”

“I wish I knew what I was...” mutters Thirteen, “We have the most knowledgeable wizard, the strongest fighters in the world, the best technology known to ponies as well as griffons, and then there’s me. I even blew the interrogation yesterday.”

“What?” Magpie is just staring at the ceiling, but even this conversation is more interesting than just lying there and letting his mind wander, “You didn’t do or say pretty much anything.”

“Exactly,” Thirteen nods vigorously despite Magpie not being able to see her, “I didn’t defend dad or our hive or even object. Three did.”

“If it helps, nothing anyone said there made a good case for us. Even Gem couldn’t properly explain how she got that dragon idea which resurrected Flow. I mean, his revival saved our world while destroying the rest of the universe, and he was behind that whole Herald thing in the first place, but we’re still here and that counts for something.”

After a moment of silence, Magpie hears:

“And where Gem couldn’t make things better, what chance did someone like me have?”

The griffon only lies there, silent.

Why did she have to pick the least optimistic creature in this damn prison to open up to?

Author's Notes:

Let the awkward weirdness begin!