Mercer. Go to hell.

It wasn't the infection he caught from Mercer's actions. He was not complaining about the people shooting at him, or the monsters trying to eat him. Heck, he even stopped caring about all the personal drama. He honestly felt a touch of pride whenever he completed an assignment.

He didn't care about the brutality, or the insane plan of the doctor. He was just that spent; he was that numb. Mercer made an offer to join in, he answered 'what the hell, let's try it'. He got Mercer's interest. He consumed people with skills that interested him, since the idea of obtaining any mundane skill in a snap, just like that, was very appealing in its novelty. And the occasional useful trait, like blades, speed and claws, was 'spiffy'. Avoiding Blackwatch sucked, though, but keeping to himself and trying to be the sneakiest son of a gun ever made surviving possible (even enjoying a modicum of 'appropriated' luxuries) since the day Mercer smashed that vial.

Spiteful bastard.

Still, Mercer changed his tune, then changed it again and tried to take over the world. What the hell, let's try it; things are this bad already.

He drew the line at being considered expendable enough that he was sent to sabotage something just because Alex fu-dgin' Mercer didn't want to risk having a fucking black hole generator near him, just in case someone 'accidentally' shot the console he was working on, causing a chain reaction that collapsed the chamber and sucked him in anyways.

Which was what happened, obviously. Not that he knew that it would happen until after the deed was done.

Not to Mercer, though. No, he was probably out there, looking for some other sucker that was stupid enough to accept a mission like this despite eating scientists, philosophers, and other 'smart' people, then threatening to rip their face off and eat it if they don't go.

Oh, right, Mercer was still scary as all hell, and could kill him in seconds... yeah, now he remembered why he took his chances with the black hole.

*****

Now, odds are that a random hole in the fabric of space-time will lead to either the desolate loneliness of deep space, or some other phenomena that require enormous essays to properly convey just how hostile they are to life...

However, not only there are methods to alter the odds, those odds require events on both sides of the equation. That is to say, just because one side didn't bother to chose a target, that doesn't mean the other side can't graciously offer a destination.

Things happen. An ancient, powerful binding is opened by the stars moving of their own volition... an imprisoned king driven mad by powers he was not ready to wield trashes against his restraints, furious that he could feel another's cage weakening... a being that decided friendship and harmony 'weren't his thing' laughed...

It caused small cracks to open in a gate that was supposed to be a one-way journey.

And acted as a magnet for a certain kind of spatial anomalies.

*****

It was painful.

Very much so... he had no doubt that a normal human would have been killed; rendered a homogeneous paste from the forces involved. He woke to this pain, only feeling how an arm clicked back in place and made the pain flare back up for a moment. Taking a moment, he noticed that he was surrounded by upturned dirt.

'Why? What would cause - oh, it's a crater. Aw hell.'

His appearance was an effort in being nondescript - dark brown hair, brown eyes, moderately tanned skin and soft features. Nothing too sharp or angular, just moderately lean. Anyone could see him and get him confused with ten other men. Sometimes he wore a white hoodie, others a plain shirt, glasses on occasion... all trying to look as plain and bland as possible, but always trying to be different from the last time.

Old habits die hard, so he drew a sharp breath and surveyed the crater.

'Landing could have been better.'

Calling the thing a 'black hole generator' was just convenience - it caused a bend in space time and blah blah blah - it's a glorified, hi-tech slingshot that drew in things, placed a lot of pressure on them, then shot them through the hole to God-knows where. Apparently it was to be used as a last resort against Mercer, but it was only completed recently.

Time to take stock of the surroundings.

A forest, by the look of it... but a forest where? The soldiers in him squashed any panic before it even had the chance to manifest; not that he had enough emotion to spare for panic anyways. The floor was obscured by mist and the trees almost gave the impression of someone twisting in agony, skeletal limbs reaching for the sky in search of release... or extending to their fellows, seeking to drag them down. Eerie, but not that unsettling for the viral being - New York was worse anyways.

Still, it was nighttime, and those outdoorsmen had the convenient ability to recognize...

The hell? He could see Orion, though the legs looked funny, and both Canis constellations... but some were outside of their place, some were barely recognizable and other stars didn't match any constellations he knew of altogether.

Some strange cries took his attention, followed by strange-sounding blasts and a roar.

Looks like something is out for a hunt... a crooked smile appeared on his face; the thrill of a fight being one of the few shreds he still displayed. He pulled his white hood back up, slowly shifting his arm into a blade and sneaking towards the sounds.

Is... what the... forget it. If that was indeed a thing with the head of a lion, of a goat, a tail with a snake's head, and with the ability to breathe fire, he could only call it a chimera. How was it that the thing had managed to not start a forest fire was a wonder; that... chimera was fighting some black, insect-like creatures that fired some green blasts at it - one of them at least, given that the others...

Ouch. The paw of the beast met the last one standing, slashing its chest and sending it crashing into a tree.

Lots of opportunities tonight, but if he didn't do something now, the creatures would die before he consumed them or the chimera would eat them first, so sadly he would not be able to draw out the fight. He chose to 'liberate' an arm from the beast while its back was turned, for starters, then, as his prey writhed in pain, he pierced its ribcage and twisted, then jerked his bladed arm away, blood splattering everywhere as he tore it open. It felt warm.

Not wasting any time, he slashed both of its necks and became a mass of tendrils to take his prize - including the lost limb. Absorbing the creature's memories... wait, what? Is this for real? He held back the wave of power, lest he finish off the creatures that miraculously clung to life.

He had to be sure. There was no way. This could only be a joke.

He walked over to the one that looked the worst. According to the memory of the beast, this was the first victim, caught by surprise when the chimera awakened suddenly and lashed out; the creature was burnt to a crisp, gasping desperately for air that its cooked airways could not provide in a satisfactory manner. He consumed it- her. It burned; this 'magic' was literally burning itself into his system as the tendrils made him shrink down to the female's original size. The memories were transferred a mere second later, and her new eyes widened as she changed back.

'Interesting. Dare I say... exhilarating.' He ignored the pain, which subsided quickly anyways; he was panting in exertion, having done everything he could to hold back yet another pressure wave; the information was more valuable than anything else.

He began to laugh.

He was honest-to-goodness laughing; it was a borderline psychotic laugh, but it was laughter all the same - the most emotion he had displayed in years.

He ate another one; another female, that had her legs bit off and was losing consciousness. Yes... yes!

The only male in the group, the one to fall last, managed to get his ribs smashed and his lungs pierced.

The last one was simply knocked against a tree really, really hard. She was waking up, stirring. Nothing personal, but if they truly had a mission like that he could not have any stragglers running about.

He sat down, reviewing all this information.

Names, locations, events... the scientists in him cried out at the idea of magic and eating 'love', but the more pragmatic side of him saw opportunities; he himself was a shapechanging being created via infection by a super-zombie super-virus that ate brains to get memories, so he wasn't one to talk. Ponies, earth, pegasus, unicorn... changelings. Griffins. Manipulating the weather. Spells. Conflict between the ponies and the griffins. Opportunity. Infiltration. A queen.

That was interesting. This queen managed to get on the wrong side of other queens like her, and had to set her hunting grounds elsewhere. Equestria... not the most imaginative name for a land of talking ponies, but what the hell. Cities, Canterlot, Fillydelphia, Manehattan (again, what the hell). Infiltration skills, languages, shapeshifting at will. Knowledge of other countries, and the current state of affairs; tension.

These 'changelings' were waiting, ready to pounce on them and reap all the spoils, regardless of who 'won'. Idiotic plan, since the changelings needed positive emotions, and being conquerors wouldn't work to put them in anypon- anyone's good graces; the alternate method they had thought up was just insane and, simply put, not worth it.

Still, the second he saw the memory of the male changeling shapeshifting into a female pony to work at a brothel for some quick refill, he pushed it away. He could still 'feel' the stuff... love, lust, kindness, filling him with power - an echo, of course, but the sensation was intoxicating nonetheless. These things apparently needed it to use their abilities, feed their 'consciousness', and reproduce - his own body and mind didn't need it, though, so it would all go to power.

The group had the mission to spy on a small village not too far from the forest called 'Ponyville' in the native language (included in the memories, which was a relief in many ways, because if he heard tiny pastel horses speaking perfect English he would have to wonder if he was hallucinating in his last moments after being creamed by the device). The perfect excuse was at ha-hoof: The Summer Sun Celebration - 'we just want to see the princess, and this looks like a nice place to settle anyways'.

The memories included plenty of info on this 'princess Celestia' character, since she was the head of the fu-friggin' country and a super-powered magic user, but he could see that the tales of her 'wrath' and 'cruelty' towards changelings were the product of indoctrination to scare them against defecting to Equestria.

This 'Chrysalis' was a nasty piece of work. One of the females, a cerulean blue changeling, came from a different 'hive' with a different opinion of Celestia, but was swayed by Chrysalis into joining her side. Chrysy also ordered her subjects shave their manes and tails as a symbol... what an ego.

He wanted to scoff at the idea of moving the sun and the moon, but there was no denying the power of the memory. A previous year, a plaza full of elegantly dressed ponies (seriously, what the hell), and a tall, white pony with both wings and a horn, radiating awe-inspiring power. He knew he was no match. Could he consume her DNA? Would he be able to pass by undetected in a country with such a ruler? The abilities the changelings had said 'yes'... hey, he had his own abilities, and with these new ones...

He was the ultimate shapeshifter.

It brought a smile to his face.

No Mercer, no Blackwatch, no viral detectors, no chemical weapons, no thermobaric tanks, no nukes, not a single soul aware of what he is or what he can do. There were only a handful of individuals that had access to both the exceptional power and the dangerous kind of spells to do anything to kill him, and they didn't know he existed. He had the ability to vanish forever whenever he desired.

His smile widened.

He needed a change of scenery, anyways. Apparently, this world had entire countries made of clouds... that made him curious.

The philosophers said this could be a new start, this could be the thing he needed to stop being such an empty shell.

Bah, what did they know? He could fake it well enough, no? And with a group tasked for infiltration recently absorbed, he had all he needed to pass for a pony.

He was enveloped by tendrils, crying out in pain as he felt the magic once more; after consuming the others, the increase itself was small, both to 'pressure' and 'reserves', but he had yet to adapt fully. Something about the forms was more 'conductive' about the abilities, and being a changeling made the magic stand out more than as a human.

Shifting into the male changeling... huh, fu-freaking awkward having his jewels hang like that... He changed into the blue female.

Marginally better. This body even felt slightly nimbler than the others. Alright, she shifted a little additional biomass to form a white hoodie around her form. She could have just used the changeling's abilities, but this felt... secure, reassuring in an odd way. Might be the fact that it was bulletproof, even if she herself was to start with. Could also be that being completely naked felt odd in her head, carapace or no, coat or no.

Alright... appearance... unless specifically trained, changelings were limited to things with a roughly similar shape; disguising as a foal was possible and easy, trying to be bigger got progressively harder; griffins were out for her, since not only she didn't have any griffin DNA, none of the changelings she had eaten had trained for that race. She'd have to play with the disguise feature later.

Hmm... figure out right biomass distribution to practice flying, then spells-no, figure out the non-spell uses of magic first, then practice spells, experiment with disguises... travel the world. Good! Bit of a vague plan of action, but it was a start. Figuring out supplies, stops and other details would have to wait; she had an identity to make (as opposed to steal, which was a hazard).

Short, straight mane that didn't pass the nape of her neck, blue color, with a cerulean stripe. Apparently, short tails are 'in' this season. Blue eyes, not too round though, a little bit on the sultry side; she might not be flirty, but she sure as hell wasn't the cutesy innocent type. Pale yellow coat... Hmm, unicorn for now, since the spells sounded like a huge bonus. Oh! Cutie mark... the concept behind those was weird; who or what decided those? Bah, as a changeling, she didn't need to speculate, nor she needed to wrack her brains figuring out what she was good at: A green domino mask - the pointy, feminine design, of course- to signify acting (she figured it would be best to go for a talent she could actually show and that kept outright lies to a minimum).

Name... Forest Riddle. Ta-dah!

OK. Isolate the magic, redirect the unused flow to the horn to better match unicorn ability and avoid suspicion; allow the coat of innate magics to cover the changeling traces. Let the fire-like light wash over her form...

A soft breeze tickled her lips, and not the ones on her face. Screw fashionable, she'd have a longer tail! And a green skirt for good measure - also made of biomass, naturally. Sure, if she didn't want to sit on it, it wouldn't cover her rear, but she wanted something da-dang it!

Also, absorbing memories from people who swear a lot apparently doesn't override maternal-induced compunction to avoid swearing.

Shoot, it was summertime, right? She'd look weird in a- an exercise outfit! She'd be able to keep the hood! A few modifications were in order, though.

In any case, now she had a town to find. She just hoped that she wouldn't have to get too close to this 'Celestia' character. If she could go without meeting her at all, all the better.

*****

"So, you're here." Celestia said, calmly if slightly tiredly.

"No greetings, dear sister?" The other voice dripped like honey, though laced with a hint of venom. "And here I thought you had another grand speech for our confrontation, or that you would deign to look me in the eyes before our battle."

Celestia hung her head, not looking away from the papers on her desk, but not paying attention to them either. She sighed and looked around to the small office she was granted use of in Ponyville's town hall. She shook her head and sighed again.

"I won't fight you." She stated, placing her tiara on the desk with her hooves rather than magic. Having done that, she slowly turned around to face the black-coated mare that had materialized at the door.

"Oh? Why not, sister?" Said intruder could not suppress a small rustling of her wings, displaying genuine curiosity.

"I am not insane." Celestia, her own wings slumping as she removed her golden ornaments, locked eyes with her opposite; sad and tired magenta eyes meeting scowling feline cyan eyes. "I made the mistake of fighting you before, and look at the results; I am not going to try the same thing as before and hope that everything miraculously turns out differently. No, if being a princess has taught me anything, is that there is only so far one can go for their country, that you cannot deny yourself as much as you'd like before it harms more than it would help; I am sick of pointless sacrifice."

"Hmm. You want to have your cake and eat it." Nightmare Moon smirked, her smoky mane of night and stars brushed Celestia's side. "That is a great deal of effort, sister... are you sure that you have given this enough thought? Are you sure that you want to surrender? The last time we saw each other you were rather adamant in denying me."

"Abdication is never ideal." Celestia shook her head, ignoring the sharp black horn weaving around her head and neck. "But in the face of something you cannot simply defeat, conceding ground can supply the only remaining advantage." Nightmare moon snorted at that.

"Dear sister, if you do not want to fight, being the only one able to match me, then there is no advantage possible for you." She caressed Celestia's cheek one last time before turning, leaving the rosy white mare sitting alone in a tiny study. "I need to prepare for my entrance. See you later, Celestia."

Celestia knew better, however. Even as she laid down, sniffling and without the weight of golden regalia, she never forgot. The final hope for victory lies in patience and planning. She had found that filly... her raw magical attributes were simply the greatest she had ever seen, and her heart's capacity for love was so inspiring, so incredible, that Celestia doubted the little filly even understood it herself.

It was unfortunate, then, that the students in her school, and even her own staff, were such a jealous bunch that their taunts and pressure on the filly... that they caused her to eschew friendships altogether as 'distractions from studies' or 'pointless' or simply because she tired of false friends. Celestia had been rather upset... no, she was outright furious that the teachers would mistreat her student, that they would contest her choice to bring her in, that they would call a little filly worthless and unworthy when it was their fault she failed when tested on material that students five years her seniors had trouble with.

She reminded them who the headmistress truly is, and who has the final say, and that there is a procedure that cannot simply be ignored on a whim 'just because'.

They had got to witness something that had not happened in slightly over four hundred years.

They had managed to make Celestia, princess of the sun, most powerful pony in the world... angry.

And now, she could only hope that her young student would be able to see the wonders that lie inside her own heart. All she had to do was stay away from such intense studies...

Not too far away, a hooded mare followed the crowd to find the town hall. After all, 'I want to see the princess raise the sun' was the perfect excuse to be a new arrival in town.

Author's Note

Inspired by Oskar Osäker: True Omnivore, if you can't tell already. And making a reference to Assassin's Creed, then switching to Prototype, was deliberate. Not that I have actually played either game, but given the sheer amount of crossover fics for series/games I do have seen/played, I know nearly everything save for physical descriptions (Google image search was made for that purpose, however).

Yes, there are going to be psychological repercussions to having consumed changelings, I'm getting there.

I'd like to see more fics that start at or before the start of the series and change things, however slightly, instead of just setting things up for the series to take over.

And yes, there is a reason for having Nightmare speak like that, the same way it happened in the first two episodes, instead of 'retconning' in traditional speech patterns.

And I think it's unnecessary, but I'd like to say 'Celestia is best pony' (though my list of 'best pony' is larger than 1).