The darkness of the Crystal Empire dotted with street lights and dim glow coming from the house windows is under curious observation by one quickly progressing mixed group of creatures led by a tall changeling.

They come to a stop by an unlit house ins the southeast quarter of the city, upon which the changeling reaches into her mouth and pulls out a green key made of goo, hardening in the open air.

“Do I want to know how you made that with just your tongue?” Magpie raises an eyebrow at seeing this.

“What can I say?” Gem smirks, blows at the key, unlocks the house door, leads the group inside, locks the door behind them, and eats the key again, “I’m a godlike kisser.”

“Won’t we need it?” asks Thirteen, looking down the long hallway with doors on both sides and the end.

“We won’t be leaving that way,” replies Gem, pointing her hoof around to what might constitute points of interest, “Living room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen. Let’s take a short break before we head off. Catbird, there’s some canned pony food in the kitchen. Harriet, feel free to munch on anything your body can digest. Three, Thirteen, there are love crystals in the fridge. Use them up if you want, we won’t be coming back here.”

“When are we leaving?” asks Magpie.

“Two hours, give or take. If anyone knocks, we’re going immediately. I’ll be in the cellar, prepping our backpacks,” she looks back at the hesitant group as she descends stone stairs down at the end of the hall, “Make yourselves at home!”

“I’d like to take a shower, if you don’t mind,” Harriet gives everyone a questioning smile, “I’m not picky but being hosed down with cold water by armed guards for so long wasn’t my idea of washing up.”

Magpie immediately stops moving towards the bathroom, saying:

“Yeah, sure.”

“Three, do you want something to eat?” asks Thirteen, turning her head to the limp drone on her back.

“I dunno...” Three just sighs.

“Snack it is then,” she carries Three off to the presumed kitchen.

For obvious reasons, it’s the most spartan-looking room, with only the basic necessities to avoid making anyone who might be in there coming to the conclusion that this house belongs to someone who doesn’t eat.

“Fridge… fridge… fridge...” Thirteen mumbles to herself, looking around. Kitchen utilities aren’t exactly a changeling thing, especially to one with such limited previous access to the hive mind.

“That white buzzing box in the corner,” mumbles Three.

“Thank you,” Thirteen opens it and grabs several rime-covered long, green, angular crystals, “Hey, love popsicles.”

Three sighs.

“Come on, Three,” Thirteen sits down, making Three slide down from her back. She grabs a crystal by one end with her mouth and pokes Three’s muzzle with it, “Mmm?”

He squints at it before saying an exhausted “Thank you.” and taking a bite.

Thirteen observes the slowly munching drone. She’s never seen Three this crestfallen. Granted, it’s not as if she’s been around for even a hundredth of his life, but still...

“How can I make you feel better?” she opts for the direct approach. After all, what’s the worst thing that can happen? “It tears me inside to see you like this.”

Three looks at the shortening love crystal in Thirteen’s mouth for a quiet while.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” is all he mutters.

“I know,” Thirteen pats his head, “I’m sure everyone knows.”

“But I still did,” he breathes out, “How can I know whether something I want to do won’t cause that again? I should just find a way back to the boss somehow and don’t try anything so unbelievably stupid ever again.”

“Three...” Thirteen swallows an entire love crystal which releases its stored energy and turns back into changeling goo in her throat, “You know that I’m kinda the… expert at messing up, right?”

“Thirteen, you’re too hard on yourself-”

“Look who’s talking now...” she glares at him meaningfully until he looks down at the floor, ”Three, I’ve failed everyone’s expectations on daily basis. I want mom and dad to be proud of me but that’s clearly not happening. The best I can try for is not making dad sad, and I think that if dad saw you right now, he’d be devastated.”

“I failed him.”

“Really? He sent you to help ponies with their food situation and as far as I know, that’s going better than expected.”

“He didn’t send me out to hurt- to kill ponies!”

“You know...” Thirteen suddenly smirks, “What you did makes you a lot more like dad, actually.”

“Whuh?” Three shakes his head in confusion before frowning, “Hey! Boss wouldn’t make a bad decision like that.”

“Three hundred million dead zebras two months ago,” Thirteen crosses her forelegs on her chest and raises an eyebrow, reveling in her checkmate.

“Oh, that...” Three goes silent, only sucking on his love popsicle.

The moment grows longer and longer, interrupted only by the distant mumbling of a radio Magpie is listening to in the bedroom and the faint hiss of running water from the bathroom. Eventually, Three finishes his crystal, scratches his head, and says:

“Mind leaving me alone for a while, Thirteen?”

“Only if you promise me no more moping,” she lowers her head to be eye to eye with Three.

“Thirteen, I did something terrible. I can’t forget it, I can’t ignore it. Not even if I compare it to the boss. Some self-reflection will be a good thing right now. I need to make sure I don’t make a mistake like that again and right now I think there’s only one changeling I can turn to.”

“You’re going to talk to Gem then?” asks Thirteen, “Just promise me you won’t let her talk you out of your plan or into just blindly following her. I believe you want the best for others. I believe you’re the purest little critter I’ve met and not even Gem can compare to the good you want to bring.”

“It’s not about want, Thirteen. It’s about can,” Three sighs, “And I don’t think I’m smart enough to can. ”

Thirteen sighs. As much as it irks her to admit it, Magpie’s irritating doctrine of ‘words mean diddly squat’ is proven true once again and she doesn’t know what to do to make things better.

What would Three do if he wasn’t going through a rough patch? A one hundred percent temporary one.

She shuffles closer to Three and pulls him into a hug. He gives her chin a surprised, completely vertical look upwards before settling in against her barrel. She lets it last for few slow breaths before releasing Three who shuffles backwards, now looking more exhausted than distressed. Thirteen decides to consider this a victory, no matter how microscopic.

“How about we take a break?” she asks instead of digging deeper, “Gem said we had time.”

“As I said, I need a little time to think, Thirteen,” Three pats her foreleg, “Don’t worry. I’m feeling a little better. You were right - even boss went through this, but I’m not a boss. I just need to clear my head,” he stops, pursing his lips, “You know what? I think I’ll take a shower after miss Harriet.”

“Alright,” Thirteen forces a smile, knowing she hit the limit of what she can do, “Just, if you need anything, don’t forget that here’s one super experienced screw-up you can talk to,” she pats her chest, stands up, and leaves the kitchen.

Three closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and rubs his belly.

“...I’m hungry...” he looks at the dark runes around his fetlocks before pulling out one more crystal from the fridge, “Last one, we’ll need the rest for our trip. You can’t mess things up for miss Gem and Thirteen just because your stomach rumbles again… after so long.”

With the green crystal sticking out of his mouth, he walks out of the kitchen and sits down by the bathroom door, listening to the running water inside.

The changeling he needs to talk to isn’t Gem, no matter how much he respects her.

He closes his eyes and enters the world of the hive mind, looking for a very particular memory, one which not even the boss, miss Comfort, or miss Gem know about.

“Mister Wistful?”

In the surrounding darkness, two pink eyes open and are followed by a tall male changeling with gossamer, butterfly-like wings glittering with silvery dust. Instead of a horn, however, there are two antennae on his forehead. The exhausted look etched into his features softens when he looks down at Three.

“It has been quite a while since our last meeting, little one,” Wistful sits down in front of Three.

“I know you’re busy, but boss isn’t here and I don’t think the others understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Three, I’m just a tiny fragment of a memory. It’s not like I have a party to attend to,” Wistful chuckles, “I appreciate you being polite but we’ll get somewhere faster if you present your problem straight up.”

“How can I be sure I’m doing the right thing?” asks Three.

“You can’t,” replies Wistful immediately, “I thought I was doing the right thing when I sacrificed my kind to Celestia’s transformative curse. Could I have refused? Could ponies have won the war against the griffon military even without the creation of changelings? Those questions haunted me every moment as I was witnessing my fall by the hooves of my daughter, as the fresh changelings decided that there would be no other changeling king ever again, and as we gradually first became the enemies of the whole world and then as we fell into obscurity.”

“And did you find the answer?”

“No, little one, I did not,” Wistful shakes his head, “My entire race hates me-”

“We don’t!” objects Three, “And we know what really happened.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because I believe you did what you thought was the best for everyone - for ponies of all tribes. You can’t have known it would lead to changelings being feared, hated, and discarded as mindless weapons. Without you, ponies might have been meat and slaves for griffons. You were in the position to do the most good you could-”

Wistful’s sudden victorious smile interrupts Three.

“Then why are you so angry with yourself right now, little one?”

“-and… what?” Three’s train of thought hits a wall and flying parts of it scatter everywhere.

“The way I see it, you believed you were doing the best you could. You succeeded in what your king wanted from you. You know that Gem, Harriet, or even the grumpiest griffon in recent history got involved in the destruction of the universe while trying to stop it.”

“But mister Magpie even told me I was being stupid to trust the unicorn brothers! Even mister m- m-” Three breathes out, “Even mister minotaur warned me and in the end me pushing the plan caused him to die.”

“I discussed my decision with the flutterpony leaders. Some were for and some were against the plan. Their concerns were valid. Some even predicted perfectly what would eventually happen. Yet I did it and I cursed the vast majority of my species. If I ever had a chance to talk to a breezie, what would they think? Would they even remember they didn’t use to be tiny and hiding in a different pocket of reality? Do they even still exist or did the void swallow them as well? And when Flow forced your king into submission, One wanted to fight. Your king did what he thought best despite all warnings. What did it lead to? The rest of the universe is gone, almost a third of the population of Zebrica got vaporized, and the whole world is threatened by the absence of sunlight. Do you hate him? You, who believe that every living creature deserves to be happy.”

“NO!” Three raises his voice, crossing his forelegs on his chest.

“Then once again - why are you so mad at yourself?” Wistful tilts his head, his voice probing like a scalpel.

“Because I don’t want to hurt others ever again, even indirectly!”

“That’s impossible, little one.”

Wistful’s immediate reply makes Three give the memory of the original changeling king the kicked puppy look. Wistful doesn’t budge, though.

“Why?” is the best Three can add.

“Decisions, by definition, mean not being able to achieve everything. One path always means the loss of the others and not picking a path is just another path. However, am I correct in assuming you want to avoid wholesale slaughter rather than any slight inconvenience you might inflict on others?”

“Mister Wistful, I just want to make things better. That’s all,” Three raises his voice, “But all I did was make things a lot worse!”

“Did you?” Wistful raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, I did!”

“How can you be sure?”

“You saw what I saw - dead ponies everywhere, mister minotaur sliced in half, the tortured warden. I caused all that despite mister Magpie warning me not to trust the unicorns. We could be still sitting in prison and everyone would still be alive.”

“What do you think your king would do?”

“Find a way that wouldn’t get all those ponies killed. He’s smart!”

“No, if he had your options. Escape there and then, not knowing when or if any other opportunity would arise, or stay, possibly forever. You know him better than I do. Which would he choose?”

Three takes a long breath before lowering his head.

“Boss would take the chance...”

“Ans would you be as harsh on him as you are on yourself?”

“Of course not, boss is the best!”

“So?”

Three goes silent, not saying anything until Wistful sighs, shakes his head, and rubs Three’s chin with a warm smile.

“Three… from everything I’ve seen you do I firmly believe that you have talent at figuring out the right thing to do. You naturally gravitate to what’s best for the most. In your case, inaction itself is the wrong choice. The world would be a much better place than it is now if there were only creatures with heart like you. However, that’s not the case. You know what is the right thing to do. You just need to listen to others who offer a way to do it. Some might be rude, some might be cynical, but they deserve to be heard. That’s where you failed this time. You didn’t need to rush, you had plenty of time plan contingencies for the unicorn betrayal, and THAT is what Magpie and the others tried to tell you in their clumsy way. I don’t believe that any of your friends wanted you to discard your plan completely, no matter how that griffon sounded.”

“Mister Magpie is super grumpy, but miss Gem likes him,” Three rubs his chin.

“Indeed.”

“I’m glad you didn’t disappear completely, mister Wistful.”

“I’m just a memory fragment, Three. Real Wistful is enjoying his well-deserved rest.”

“You’re like a mini-boss I can have with me all the time.”

Wistful chuckles.

“Your real-world friends await, little buggy.”

Three blinks, finding himself facing a wet, black tentacle poking his chest.

“Did you fall asleep, Three?” asks still wet Harriet towering over him and definitely making Three recall the special cellar where boss and miss One often disappear to. Three clamps his forelegs on his cheeks, feeling the blush rise.

A Corrupted Protector dragonpony with a figure that would make miss Gem or even a succubus like miss Comfort jealous. Oh dear.

“I was thinking. That’s all,” Three looks up into Harriet’s face with a smile that’s only partially forced this time, “Are you finished in the bathroom, miss Harriet?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Magpie said he’d go last, so feel free to enjoy yourself. I had no idea Gem had a bubble bath that even I could fit into.”

“She’s a big lady, with all the zebra-like backside bits and stuff,” Three nods.

“For you, it’ll be like a little pool,” she pokes him.

“I think that for once I just want to lie down and relax, miss Harriet.”

One of her back tentacles pats his head.

“Then I won’t delay you anymore. There should be enough hot water left.”

“Thank you, miss Harriet.”

Well, booksy, I messed up big time. You’re lucky you don’t have eyes so you couldn’t see them all piled up…

I see the poor guys, the prisoners as well as the wardens, whenever I close my eyes. The worst part is that no one else seems to care, or at least they’re telling themselves that there was no other option. However, a smart friend whom I can’t name in case someone reads you gave me good advice I’ve been rolling over in my head since we left the Crystal Empire. Don’t be jealous, booksy, I promised I wouldn’t tell even the boss.

Anyway, it took us a while to suit up - miss Gem had very little supplies for non-changelings because that house was her personal hideout no one was supposed to know about. Still, she’s a super smart changeling and she considered the possibility of her having to use such base even with someone else.

You know what, booksy? I think this ties into the advice I got. I should always have a plan in case what I want goes completely pear-shaped. The thing is… I’m not smart like miss Gem or paranoid like mister Magpie. Thinking up plans within plans wrapped in more plans isn’t exactly my specialty.

I like hugs. When those fail, I hug more or harder. If even that fails, I run off to find someone smart like the boss.

I guess that won’t be an option for some time.

Why? Because after some discussion, we realized we have no idea where boss might be these days. In theory, we should be able to follow him using the dwarf markings all expeditions were supposed to leave behind, but ponies now know where our secret entrance to the castle is and I don’t doubt there are guards scouting every nook and cranny they can reach. The smart plan is to stick together for now. There’s still the chance that we might find Two, Eleven, and Cryo’s group somewhere around Equestria unless they’ve already scouted out the place they were headed off to and have rejoined boss’ main group heading south.

So that’s it, really. My and Thirteen’s mission is over, now we just need to figure out how to get back home.

I’m writing this while riding on miss Harriet’s back. No offense to Thirteen or miss Gem but miss Harriet is a lot broader and comfortable. We left the Crystal Empire several hours ago via a tunnel leading south from miss Gem’s house and we are avoiding all roads. Miss Gem said that the guards either would have been sent out immediately after the prison break or would be sent soon. We don’t want to get into a scrap with them.

Of course, avoiding beaten paths is risky in many different ways. Miss Gem said our trip is going to take longer and will undoubtedly be even more dangerous due to Corrupted. I haven’t met one other than the crazy alicorn lady Cryo brought caged to Brauheim and miss Harriet, but the wild ones are supposed to be scary and dangerous. Supposedly, they don’t exactly like the northern colds because they are part mushrooms… or moss… or something like that. Corrupted are weird.

Still, miss Gem is an experienced traveller and she used to wander the surface on her own for centuries. If there’s someone who can keep us as safe as is possible these days, it’s her.

Well, bye for now, booksy. I think it might be time I start walking on my own. It’s just hard, Miss Harriet is so comfortable.

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delay. I've been having terrible trouble sleeping for the past two months and over last few weeks it culminated into me not having energy to do anything, much less being at least remotely creative. Doubly so since the story seems to be getting away from me.