“NO!” yells Three, digging his forelegs into the ground, “You’re meanies! You’re mean and bad ponies if you want to hurt someone even though there’s already so much pain and trouble in the world!”

The unicorns crack their necks as one, and fan out around the drone. The other prisoners out here have learned that sticking their noses into the business of others leads to shiv-based trouble, so while everyone in the safe distance is watching, no one is even thinking of helping the soon-to-be crumpled ball of chitin.

“Calling us names, and after we wanted to be friends with you?” the unicorn leader smirks, “I guess you need a lesson in manners.”

“I’m not going to be friends with bad ponies who want me to poison a minotaur just because he’s a grump and doesn’t like being made fun of! You can make a joke where you can laugh with him, not at him, but if you’re nasty for no reason then… then.. then I...”

“Yeees?” the unicorn’s smirk only widens as he takes a step to Three.

“Then I won’t ever hug you no matter how nicely you ask!” Three glares at the unicorn who glances at the others.

“Colts, I guess we can’t leave a threat like that unanswered, can we?”

He casually shoves Three with his foreleg, which for some reason feels like trying to move a mountain. As he pushes himself away, his smirk turns into a scowl, and he cocks his hoof backwards, following it with a furious right hook.

Three ducks under it, bending his stubby legs, and shuffling backwards.

“Boss…?” he looks around, eyes widening in terrifying realization that right now he really is alone.

As all the unicorns charge towards him, he squeaks, turns around, and flees. The other inmates hastily scatter to make space, not wanting to get involved, and in few cases already betting on the result. So far there are zero bets on Three who decides that shadows are his friend, and pumps his legs as quickly as he can to the darkest part of the courtyard.

The ground is simply dirt so heavily stomped it’s almost like concrete, but to a changeling drone literally made for digging it may as well be butter. It takes only a casual flick sideways of his hind leg with the proper love enhancement, and the hoof-deep groove completely hidden in the darkness is born. Number two and three quickly follow.

The leader of the unicorn brotherhood is charging like an enraged bull when he twists his fetlock on something he can’t see and crumples on the ground. While one of his brethren has fast enough reflexes to, jump over him, he’s not agile enough to avoid kicking his boss in the head on the way, which surprises them both to say the least.

Few seconds later, Three darts away from a pile of unicorns either groaning or spitting insults and death threats at him. Right as he gives a final glance to see that chasing him has become a secondary problem for the unicorn brotherhood, with the leading issue on the agenda being their leader’s broken leg, chipped ribs, few missing teeth, and a light concussion, Three runs into something that feels like a tree trunk.

He bounces off, lands on his butt, shakes his head, and looks up to face the stern eyes of the only minotaur in prison.

“You’re starting to get in the way too often, changeling,” he growls, “And what was that tidbit I caught about poison?”

That makes Three frown as he looks at the unicorn pile again.

“I wanted to make friends with the unicorn brothers, and at first it was fun. We had a chat, we made face painting, even though they didn’t want me to look like a kitty, but then they went all angry and wanted me to poison you or they’d hurt Thirteen.”

The minotaur lets out a single dark chuckle.

“From what it looks like, it didn’t work out too well for them,” he cracks his fingers, “And if I get a moment with any of them alone, I’m going to make sure they regret their… foolish decision.”

The menacing mood ends as he feels two forelegs clamp around his leg.

“Nu-uh!” Three shakes his head, holding the minotaur so tight it makes even him wince, “I want to make the lives of ponies better. That’s why boss sent me and Thirteen up here. If we all get mad at each other all the time, then it just makes this vicious circle of everyone trying to take revenge for what the other side did before. Boss went through all that with bad mom and when ponies hated changelings after bad mom invaded Canterlot, and it only stopped when we powered through and stopped the senseless pain and violence and then we all became friends… for a while. I’ve been through that, it even got me killed once, and it never gets better if we don’t… if we don’t… let go.”

“You let go!” the minotaur kicks his leg, trying to shake Three off, which proves completely impossible.

“Only when you promise you won’t be like miss One used to be and punch anyone without thinking. Now she punches only baddies, and when she does, they stay punched. Forever. She once punched this huuuge killer demon so hard in the melons it unsummoned itself. It was on a bet with miss Comfort, but it still counts.”

“I’ll show you punch-”

“Aaaand let’s stop it right there,” two sets of talons wrap around the minotaur’s face from behind, one of each pointing right at his eyeball. Magpie doesn’t need to finish the threat for the minotaur to lower his arm with utmost care.

“Good, smart minotaurs are hard to find these days,” adds the griffon, hovering with the help of his wings to reach the minotaur’s head height, “And, before we end this on a friendly note. I’ve spent a looong time in the blood arena of minotaur headhunter tribes, those few frothing insane ones who haven’t been hunted down by the united clans in Rift. I’ve killed minotaur warlords that would make you piss your pants with one look, so take this as my one and only warning. If you try to do something to Three, to this Thirteen we have yet to see, or if you, let’s say, feel the need to… find me where no wardens are watching, I will be more than happy to make sure the cycle of violence ends once and for all.”

“Mister Magpie-”

“Shut it, Three! And stop humping his leg.”

“...Iwasn’thumping...” grumbles Three, but lets the minotaur go.

With a careful flap of his wings, the griffon lands two pony lengths away from the minotaur just in case he tries to take a swing at him. He’s fully aware that the minotaur is stronger, heavier, and bigger than him, but there is zero chance he has more combat experience in this particular kind of fight. Nothing Magpie said was exaggerated in the slightest.

Two crystal earthpony wardens are now tending to the unicorn brotherhood, namely to their leader currently being slung over one warden’s back with little care, and carried away.

Three buzzes up to the minotaur’s head height, lowers his head, and gives him an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry for bumping into you-”

“Oh for Emperor’s sake!” Magpie facetalons.

“-but I really mean it. Two told us down in the hive that ponies are super scared about what’s going to happen now that the sun is gone. No one knows how things are going to be when food runs out, and we had some underground friends who don’t eat love and can grow food in the darkness, so Thirteen and I went to princess Candy with blueprints for those machines so that she can build them and share with everyone - ponies, griffons, minotaurs, zebras, everyone who needs them. Boss says we’re partly responsible for the darkness and all that evil, but all I want is to help whomever I can.”

The minotaur glares, then he turns away with a snort.

“If somepony touches or threatens you or your friend, tell me. I’ll make sure they quickly learn the magic of friendship… or else. And you owe me food.”

As the minotaur walks away, Magpie’s beak drops open.

“I’ve seen a snake take a piss, airship go in reverse, and a Corrupted play a banjo, but you take the cake, Three...”

“Umm, I don’t remember anything like that, but boss told me never to take anything without permission, so if I took it, I was allowed to.”

So, booksy, outside time is over. As it turns out, we get two hours per day, which is just about right for me. I like tunnels and being inside more anyway, but it’s nice to stretch my legs. This cell is kinda tiny.

Still, I think mister minotaur is warming up to the idea of not being angry all the time, and mister Magpie is totally on my side. It bothers me that I haven’t seen Thirteen, but I’m not panicking yet. You see, I have this theory about her, which is that if she really doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. It’s the same like with the juggling and singing. I think that if she doesn’t try too hard and get nervous, which must have been really difficult home with all the badasses around who pushed her too hard, she can do amazing things.

It’s like with her hiding inside the generator. There’s no way anyone could get in and tighten the screws and all the little bits on the chassis behind her from the inside afterwards, which leaves only magic. Only Two can use her own special kind of magic, and Seven has all the magic knowledge because of the curse he got all those years away, but he’s not powerful as such. As far as I know, neither of them had any success in teaching Thirteen even the most basic light spell.

Se yeah, I think that she just didn’t want to be found so much that we just… didn’t find her, really. I hope I’m right, and she’s not hurt somewhere.

I KNOW! I should just ask the smart warden about her. You’re so helpful, booksy. I always get the best ideas when I’m writing into you.

Anyway, I shared my dinner with mister Magpie and mister minotaur who refuses to tell me his name for some reason. He says it’s a minotaur thing and that I wouldn’t understand. Now we have some free time, and last thing before bed is to have a shower. I asked is I could draw a bit at night, but the mean warden yelled at me that they’re not going to let lights on just for me. When I told him I can do it in complete darkness too since I’m a changeling, he just screamed and ran off.

I’ll take that as a maybe.

“I am a drone, and I’m digging a hole. Diggy diggy hole...” Three’s scrubbing himself with a scourer in the communal showers under a stream of lukewarm water from the nozzle above.

There are no separators between the nozzles, so there’s no privacy for anyone, and a shadow falls on Three from behind, followed by a smaller click as a block of soap lands in front of him.

“Looks like I dropped something,” says an unfamiliar voice, which Three identifies with a quick glance over his shoulder as a big, white, black-striped stallion. From the stories he heard, he could be one of those zebras, probably a refugee from the recent massacre in Zebrica, “Care to pick it up for me?”

“Sure.”

As Three reaches for it, he feels the stallion’s foreleg on his back pressing him down. A moment later, a second foreleg gropes his butt... and stops.

“Hay, where’s the hole?!” asks the zebra.

“I only have leg holes in my forelegs. I tried storing booksy and crayons in my back legs, but I couldn’t reach properly.”

“I’m talking about ass, changeling. Your whole race are basically sentient sex toys, so why is there no hole, even if you’re a male?” the zebra pokes him.

“Ohhh, I don’t need it,” Three pushes himself up with ease despite the zebra’s weight, “I eat love. It leaves no mess.”

“I need-”

The weight from Three’s back disappears as the zebra finds himself being held up by the scruff of his neck by the minotaur.

“You okay, Three?” he asks.

“Mhm,” he offers the soap back to the zebra flailing in the minotaur’s grip, “Here’s your soap, mister stripey.”

“You can keep it as a present,” replies the minotaur instead, “I’ll keep this guy. I could use a hole after today.”

“Wait wait wait-” protests the zebra, which makes the minotaur only tighten his grip and turn his objection into a croak.

“One more word and it’s without lube.”

The zebra only gulps and goes limp, which the minotaur takes as a sign of defeat, and carries him off.

Three shrugs, feeling no enmity anywhere around, and goes for a re-scrub of his whole carapace now that he has proper soap. It takes some time, and he finds himself alone in the showers, at least for some time. He looks up as he hears hoofsteps approaching, and after wiping soapy bubbles from his eyes, he recognizes one of the unicorns from the unicorn brotherhood walking straight towards him.

“Um... hello?” he tilts his head as the unicorn stops in front of him.

“You’ve made a huge mistake, bug,” the unicorn shakes his head, and takes his suppressor off, revealing to Three’s drone sense for material composition that it’s a fake one made of simple iron. The unicorn’s soap box clicks, and two sharp blades fly out.

“Why are you so angry?” Three scuttles backwards until his back hits the wall, “I just wanted to be a friend.”

“There’s a pecking order in here that you’re obviously too stupid to understand, and making a fool of us in front of everypony is something you won’t do a second time,” growls the unicorn as his first shiv hits Three straight in the neck...

...and bends harmlessly against his chitin.

“See? Now you’re going to be mad because your tiny knife broke and I didn’t mean it at all. Can’t we just get along?”

“Let’s see how your bucking eye is then!” the unicorn punches Three in the face, and his horn lights up with telekinetic power.

The second shiv fails to move, currently being held in Magpie’s talons.

“I was wondering when one of you morons would try something,” he shakes his head.

“Don’t mess with a unicorn, bird brain!”

The shiv glows as it heats up…

...until Magpie quickly grabs the unicorn’s horn with his second foreleg.

“Strike one,” says the griffon.

“I’ll bucking flay you-” snarls the unicorn.

“Strike two. Bye.”

“Mister Magpie?” Three looks at the scowling griffon, “I think he learned his lesson and-”

“Not yet,” he grips the horn tighter…

...and twists.

Light fades as the unicorn’s bone breaks off. He collapses, starts throwing up, which Magpie only helps by kicking him in the gut.

Three shuffles away, still wet and soapy.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to end like this,” he mumbles.

“I give one second chance, only one,” Magpie scoops the unresisting changeling with one foreleg. Three wiggles free, and hops onto his back instead, “Most of the times I tried more resulted in another scar, and they ache really bad on cold days.”

“...why can’t we all just work together…?” sighs Three.

“You can trace every problem or motivation back to fear, Three. Either for oneself, or for others.”

“So if no one has to fear anything, they’ll all be happy?”

“I’m pretty sure the idiots will just find something else to be unhappy with.”

“But if we solve one big thing that ponies are afraid of, like the thinning supply of food, we’ll make things a lot better, right?”

“I suppose you don’t have a spare sun in some back pocket, do you?”

“One hug at a time, mister Magpie.”