A Balance of Deceit

Chapters

Memories
Hidden
Tunnels

Memories

There was darkness, there was something on his hooves, and his head hurt. A lot. Especially his horn. It was hard to look around, because something was keeping him in place, although he couldn't feel a thing, apart from his head. His entire body from the neck down was numb. There was something in the darkness, a light. He panicked. He felt cold cuffs tugging on his hooves, binding him to a chair. The chair wasn't very strong. He blinked, trying to see what was around, but he could only feel the rocky surface being scraped as he tried to wiggle his way out. He had to escape. Had to get out!

"Prism." There was a voice. It sent chills down his spine, and suddenly he wanted to be as far away from it as possible. He had to get out, to leave. He saw the orb of light approach. He kicked and tugged, feeling the chair worm its way to the right.

"Prism." He stopped. Where had he heard that name before? The light was shining directly onto him now. He couldn't see who was behind it. The ground was wet and rough, like an underground cavern. Until the heat of the light touched him, he hadn't realized just how cold it was.

"It's your name. Don't you remember anything?" The voice said. It was soothing, but his instincts were telling him not to listen. There was something else in the cavern. His name? Prism? The pain in his head got worse. Was he supposed to remember something? He wanted to move. He could see the edge of the ledge he was on now. The light petrified him though, somehow. Maybe he was simply scared.

"I know you're scared. You need to remember, what did you see at the gates, Prism?" He tried to wrench away from the light as it got closer, and the pain got worse. He squirmed and bucked as he tried to free himself. Something over the ledge was shimmering. Water. Rocks.

"Prism! We don't have much time. What do you remember?" Every time the voice mentioned his name the pain intensified. It was almost like he was trying to force something out of his skull. He was getting closer to the water. If he could break the chair...

Prism grit his teeth and failed to suppress a scream as he felt something drain out of him, despite the fact he could not see or sense it on his fur. He gasped. The light wasn't pointed at him anymore.

"It knows! It's coming, turn off your lights!"

The last thing Prism saw before a barrage of senses, visions, and vivid thoughts assaulted him was a claw of shadows knocking the light away, and he fell, bound to his chair, over the edge and in a helpless free fall.

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"Hahah. Very funny Prism, but this is serious." Cirrus told him in a tone that suggested he wasn't very amused by the joke. He bit into his tofu burger, dripping sauce all over his plate.

"Oh, but I am being serious. Why would you want to be a windmage?" Prism said. Windmages were said to be pegasi with strange powers that could not only manipulate clouds and the weather to the extent of a normal pegasus, but had extraordinary control over heat, powerful winds, condensing water in thin air, and even rudimentary levitation. Heck, he wasn't sure if anypony but his friend believed they even existed. "I thought you said you wanted to learn about pegasus combat tactics," he said. Cirrus didn't reply for a moment, as he was busy wolfing down his meal. In a very uncivilised manner, that is.

"Yeah, well, I thought it would've been cool a long time ago, but then I thought, does Equesia really need me to be a soldier? We've got enough of them, if what I hear is correct. I mean, ever since Luna and the elements of harmony disappeared, there haven't really been any monster attacks or conflicts for the last century, and my great-grandfather was a Windmage, so it can't be that hard."

Prism tried not to roll his eyes. "You know he wasn't actually a Windmage. From the stories, you'd think he was an alicorn." He wasn't nearly as good at history as Cirrus, but he knew myth and legend when he heard it. Cirrus seemingly ignored his question. He grabbed the local newspaper with his telekinesis, absentmindedly skimming over the stories. A restaurant bulldozed, a rich pony hiding from taxes, a war with the griffons, a hit conspiracy theory about Princess Twilight Sparkle still being alive(at the very least the reasoning was somewhat sound), and yet another controversial story about Celestia. A typical newspaper. Nothing new or interesting, that's for sure. The newspaper was fresh, as if it had only been delivered an hour ago.

Prism put the newspaper down and was trying his burger when he did a double take. "You said there hasn't been any monster attacks or conflicts in the last century?"

Cirrus nodded. "Yep. Pretty strange considering there were loads of monster attacks when the elements were around. You wouldn't believe the theories ponies come up with." He leaned over. "Why do you ask?"

Prism sighed. "Maybe some combat will be necessary, after all. We're at war with the griffons, and Celestia's brought back conscription."

Cirrus's eyes almost popped out of his head. He grabbed the newspaper. "So much for the obsoleteness of soldiers these days, huh?"

"I'm sure it'll blow over soon. The Queen's wise, she's not gonna let this war go on for too long, especially if it's with the griffons," Cirrus said anxiously. Prism wasn't sure if it was to reassure him or Cirrus. He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm technically in the Equestrian Pegasi Reserves, and they know where I live."

"So-"

"I don't want to think about it." Cirrus held his head in his hooves. Prism looked down at his meal. It was partially eaten, but he wasn't hungry, despite how tasty the meal looked. He got up from the table and walked out of the fast food restaurant. Automatic carriages drove past him, while pegasi flew overhead. He joined a group of ponies waiting to cross the road. While he waited, he remembered being little, when his parents got their first automobile, a brilliant contraption originally created by Twilight Sparkle.

Of course, her first generation automobiles were magically-powered, which resulted in a great many problems until the combustion engine was created long after her disappearance, and automobiles became far more commercially viable. Now, only fifteen years afterwards, almost all pony-drawn carriages had been replaced by these third-generation machines, and they covered the streets of Manehattan almost twenty-four hours a day.

Somehow, some ponies still drove first generation automobiles, which were powered by focus crystals, an old concept that stored magical energy and sometimes spells. They only held enough energy to take an automobile a dozen kilometers or so, which quickly made them rather obsolete for ponies intending to travel farther.

"Prism?" He turned around. It was Cirrus, staring at him strangely."You've kinda been standing there for a few minutes now." Prism looked around. The ponies had already crossed, while he stood there blanking out.

"Well, uh, I was just thinking about, er, stuff." That didn't usually happen. The blanking part, of course, not the thinking part.

"Heh."

"Well, I gotta scram. Flight lessons and all." Cirrus waved, and trotted away. Prism waved back. As Cirrus turned the corner in the direction of his house, Prism turned back around and crossed the road after the roadpony's signal. Some of the ponies in the automobiles looked rather bored, staring straight ahead as they waited for the pedestrians to cross. Some looked impatient, glaring at whatever they happened to be looking at. They likely weren't having a very good day. Prism ignored the ponies in the automobiles and did his best to go with the flow of the hustle and bustle of Manehattan. Around him were tourists and locals alike, out and about, particularly at this hour, when they would go shopping, eating, meeting, sightseeing. Himself? He had a package to pick up. Delivered all the way from Ponyville, booktopia of Equestria. Cirrus had been there once. Said it was 'kinda boring' when they talked about it, which didn't deter Prism from wanting to go there. He pulled a map from his saddlebags and made his way to the postage office.

The postage office was a small place, and Prism very nearly got lost on the way there. He went through alleyways, parking lots, train lines, and the likes to get to the street. He never ceased to be surprised by the mess that was the city. Despite it's apparent middle-of-nowhere location, the office was well kept and smelled like fresh grass inside. Boxes upon boxes were stacked on shelves, each with a hastily scribbled name on them. He didn't realize quite how large the office really was when he was outside.

"Prism Swivel? I'd like to get my package. A book." He hoofed his piece of paper with his package code written on it to the stallion at the desk. The stallion was a relatively skinny pony with grey hair and a brown coat. He stared at for quite a while, and Prism was getting nervous. "I believe it's written correctly?" he told him.

The stallion turned it upside down and trotted off immediately. Prism could only look as the stallion walked down the isle, and with trained efficiency, picked out a small package at the far end of the office before returning.

"Ah, yes, an old book, this is. Written just after Discord's rule was ended by the Princesses," he said.

Prism was about to take the package and thank him when the stallion stopped him.

"Have you heard the tale of the Changelings? They were like a plague for Equestria a long time ago, lead by their Queen Chrysalis. Dark and mysterious, pony-shaped and insect-like in their true forms. Shapeshifters, they were. Infiltrating Equestria and feeding off of their emotions. They were always there, causing trouble, hiding among us. We could always tell they were there,"

Prism had no idea what the stallion was talking about, and quite frankly, didn't want to listen to him.

"Yes, it's all very interesting, in fact, my friend loves history, so-"

"Until they disappeared. Gone, just like that. Like the word you were about to say but mysteriously slipped your tongue. They were there, but nopony remembers them, and there is not a trace of them. Not a single incident. Did the broken Queen finally decide to purge them from Equestria? Or is there something else at work here?" He leaned over the counter.

"The sun grows weary, my little pony."

Prism took the package and left without saying goodbye. The stallion was nuts. It was obvious. He almost felt sorry for him, rambling on about such things. The broken Queen? Was he referring to Celestia? He didn't want to know. Sounded like one of those wacky conspiracy theories the newspapers would print every week or so. He shook the conversation from his mind and put the package in his saddlebags.

Alright, now to get back to his apartment. He reached for his map. He'd traced a red line from his apartment, to the corner he met Cirrus on, and to the post office. He just had to go back the way he came. He'd trot around to the back of the building, where he'd walk up through 144th street to the intersection, when he'd go down an alley behind the furniture store and...

Oh dear. He had climbed over the fence from a metal dumpster, but there was no way of getting over the fence from the other side.

This was a bit of a problem. There were probably no taxis within a kilometer, and the closest was Lunar station, in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go. Prism groaned. He'd never been in this part of Manehattan before, and would have no idea of its layout. The best he could do was start walking along the route he used initially. Maybe there was another way to get to the other side of that alleyway from 144th street.

He looked at the map again. It detailed essentially the entire western side of Manehattan, from streets, shops, districts, apartments, train lines. It was enormous, and had to be folded at least twelve times. Somepony could probably find a way to get from anywhere to anywhere else in Manehattan. Right now, though, it wasn't a whole lot of use to him, so he rolled it up and continued on his way.

When Prism first arrived at the end of the 144th, it wasn't very crowded but it was still lively, as shops tried to grab his attention with colorful signs and welcoming facades. It was very close to the post office, and the road ran by the buildings just behind it. When he got back, most of the shops were already closed or closing down. He must've been there just before their closing times, he assumed. One of the shops he could see was still open, a furniture store. He approached it.

Compared to the other shops, the furniture store was rather dull. It had a pretty old sign that read 'Clearance's Sofas and Tables' hanging above it. Inside was a bored looking mare at the counter, who looked to be in her 40s, and another mare browsing the shop. He trotted up to the mare at the counter, who he presumed was Clearance. "Hello, uh, Clearance?"

She laughed. "Oh, no, that's my husband. You can call me Rosequill. Here to get something?"

"Oh, no, actually," Prism said. "I was hoping you knew a way to get from here to uh, Heartstrings station? By the music hall?"

Rosequill thought for a moment, looking at the far wall, where there was nothing but a grandfather clock. It looked like she was trying to think of something, before she looked back at him. "Ah, yes. I got it!"

"So how would I get there?"

"I don't know. I was just trying to remember if I knew whether or not I knew how to get from here to Heartstrings station."

Prism kept in his exasperated sigh. Couldn't she have just said whether or not she remembered how to get there? Maybe the mare browsing would know. "Thank you."

As he made his way to where he'd last seen her, he couldn't help but look around. It was a strange furniture store. He saw several potraits of various famous ponies, like Celestia, Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, and even one of what appeared to be Princess Luna. Then again, he'd never been in many furniture stores. It simply struck him as odd that such old and probably valuable portraits would show up in a furniture store on 144th street. As he approached the quills section, he saw her.

The pony in question was a relatively young unicorn(mid-20s?) with a light blue coat and purple eyes. Her mane was dark purple and buttery yellow, and her cutie mark was a quill and compass. She heard his hoofsteps and turned around. It seemed like she was surprised to find another pony in the shop.

"Hello..."

"Amethyst."

"Hello Amethyst, my name is Prism. I was wondering if you knew a way to get from here to uh, around Heartstrings station?"

"I'm just a little bit, well, lost." He added.

She blinked. "Oh, by the music hall?" He nodded. "Why, I live around those parts!" There was a pause. Was she waiting for something?

"It'd be a little complicated to tell you. I could show the way, if you'd like. I'm basically done here anyways." She gestured to the bag of quills and ink jars. There had to be dozens of them!

"Ah, yes, I'll just... Wait outside, I suppose." Hearing no reply, he took it as a sign of satisfaction and trotted out of the shop.

It was beginning to turn dark outside, and he could see the moon rising, alone in the sky, save for a few stars. Legend had it that when Luna still controlled the night, every night would be a blanket of stars and constellations, because of her lifelong affinity for it, while Celestia was always meant to control the day. It should've only been around 5, though. Maybe it was just daylight savings ending, and the mare in shop had forgotten to reset the clock.

It got very cold as the sun began to make way for the night. He stood next to a streetlamp outside the shop and shivered a little, wondering when the mare would come out. He swore he could see a pony's shadow out on the sidewalk, but there wasn't anything making it. A trick of the light?

"Latet," a rough, animal-like voice spoke.

Maybe not, he thought, as it came out of the ground and leapt at him, impossible jaws open wide.

Hidden

Prism dived out the way of the creature very ungracefully, attempting a roll and likely injuring his shoulder against the rough cement of the pavement. Maybe not the brightest idea. The creature wrenched its teeth out of the pole and turned back to face him, staring at him through the green haze around its eyes. Or where its eyes would be, anyways.

Not looking back, he bolted towards the furniture store, the creature chasing after him soundlessly, and at any moment Prism could swear it was going to bite him by the leg and drag him away. Slowing down, it made one harsh noise before he flung open the doors.

"Revelatur."

As he burst into the store in panic, Rosequill and Amethyst both turned to look at him. He was about to tell them all that there was a shadow pony outside and that they all needed to hide, but as soon as he turned around, he could see nothing outside but the dented streetlamp and the autumn leaves being blown across the pavement.

Rosequill was simply staring at Prism, masking her emotions perfectly, while Amethyst looked on with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

"Oh, it was just, uh, getting a bit cold outside." he bluffed. Rosequill seemed to relax and went back to printing Amethyst a reciept.

Prism leaned against a table in the store, trying to calm himself down. What in the world was that thing? If it hadn't been for the damaged streetlamp, he'd have sworn it was a hallucination.

"Well, are you going to go outside?" Amethyst was looking at him.

She probably hadn't caught his bluff, but didn't say anything about it. Prism looked outside. It was night now, but the shadow creature wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"...Yeah, sure." He said, trying to keep the hesitation out of his voice. What if was waiting for him? Would it attack Amethyst? Why was Rosequill staring at him like that? That last question confused him, because Rosequill wasn't staring at him, at least not when he looked in her direction.

Amethyst trotted out of the furniture store, Prism following behind. Instead of heading to the left, where the alleyway was, she started by going down the road to the right. Prism got to have another good look at the lamp. He was glad he managed to get out of the way, judging by the huge gashes in the steel. Unlike the other lamps, it wasn't even turning on anymore. Not wanting to dwell on it, he tried ignored it and tried to start a conversation.

"So... I see you have a compass and a quill for your cutie mark. How did you get it?" he asked. Maybe he'd get to know a bit more about the mare.

"I got it when I was stuck underground. I managed to draw a map and find a way out. It took weeks to get out." she replied. Stuck underground? Sheesh. It didn't seem like she wanted to keep talking about it, but she certainly peaked his interest.

"I see you have a... glass triangle. What does it mean?"

Prism realised she was talking about his cutie mark. "Oh, it's called a prism. It can seperate white light into a spectrum of colours." He comtemplated the second question. "I'm actually not really sure what it means. I always figured it meant I was good at optics, because I got it when I built a telescope as a colt, but I'm not really sure why it's a prism."

He wasn't sure if she even understood half of what he was saying, but she just shrugged and said, "Cool."

"Thanks for showing me the way home, by the way. I did a bit of an oops when I planned a route to the post office."

"Oh, it's no problem, but..." She stopped. "Ugh, I'm not usually out this late. It's so dark now." she said. She trotted down the left road, and as the sky got darker, Prism found it ever harder to locate his surroundings. They just kept walking through rows of dense, towering apartments and officebuildings that blotted out the moonlight. Eventually it became so dark that Prism was forced to cast a light spell.

An orb of light emerged from his horn, illuminating the sidewalk and the trees. As soon as he did this, Amethyst groaned.

"We've gone the wrong way."

"What? I thought you said you knew the way!"

"I do, but it's so hard to see anything tonight. We were supposed to go right back at the intersection."

"Well, I have a map of Manehattan, if that's any consolation," he said.

"What? Why didn't you tell me that? We could have saved so much trouble!" She glared at him.

"I didn't think we needed it!" Prism put his hooves up in surrender. She grabbed the map out of his bag and stared at it, scrutinizing it.

"You're not very good at using maps, are you?" she declared, staring at the red marker he'd draw on it. He shrugged. "Anyways, let's get out of this street and back on track." She kept the map in front of her and turned to retrace their steps. Looking around at the apartment buildings and the sidewalk, he could tell that while the buildings might have once been occupied, the area obviously hadn't been lived in for a while. He didn't see any lights, apart from his own.

"You usually come around this area?" he asked.

"Sometimes, usually to get quills from the furniture store."

"Bit wierd how a furniture store sells, well, quills, right?"

"Not really. You'd be surprised how common it is. What were you doing, anyways? I don't usually see many other ponies out here."

"Picking up a package. Spellbook. Actually, the guy at the post office was a bit nuts. Kept trying to tell me about some mythical creature called a Changeling," he explained. Amethyst had the same look as she did when he explained a prism. He presumed she had no idea what it was, either.

They were at the intersection again. Amethyst took the right road, this time. Unlike the other street, this one was very different. It was lined with two-storey houses made of wooden walls and tiled roofs. Some of the lights were on, but the curtains were closed. Some automobiles were parked by the sidewalks. They ended up wandering through neighbourhoods like this for quite some time. Amethyst kept scribbling on his map, although he couldn't see what she was drawing. At some point she face-hooved as she unfolded the second compass-bearing.

Despite the inconviences that came with some of the most poorly-planned roads he'd ever navigated, Amethyst managed to get them to Heartstrings station in little more than an hour. Prism could see his apartment building already.

"Well, here we are. Heartstrings station," she stated.

"I guess this is when you go home?"

"Yep, I suppose."

"Well... can we meet again sometime?" he asked. It'd be good if he could make a new friend, and she seemed a nice mare.

Amethyst blinked.

"Oh... sure, wednesday, here?" she said. "Here's your map back, anyways." He looked down at the map. If his drawing in red marker was bad, the black lines going from street to street, backtracking and looping was an abomination. He winced. How a mapmaker managed to get lost, he'd probably never know.

"Yeah, sure... bye."

"Later."

As soon she left, Prism immediately recounted the day's events, from meeting Cirrus to the post office worker, to the strange creature that tried to attack him, and the odd furniture store. It was quite the interesting evening. He needed to find out more. What was the shadow creature, why did it attack him, and why had nopony seen it before? First thing in the morning; to the city library.

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The dawn sun streamed into Prism's apartment bedroom. He got up groggily to turn off the alarm and get ready. It was Sunday, 14th of June, the year 503 AN (After Nightmare; After Nightmare Moon's return). It was an almost-typical Sunday morning, in which Prism would turn off the alarm, go back to sleep for half an hour, brush his teeth, shower, get dressed, and go to the city library.

The Third Lunar Library was a positively gargantuous dark marble building close to the center of the city. Its walls and columns were intricately decorated, with over five floors of both ancient and contemporary literature. It wasn't the first time Prism had been here; when he first moved to Manehattan this was one of the first things he saw, though only briefly browsing through the first floor. Despite its large dimensions and ancient history, the library was very well kept inside and outside.

Unlike most libraries, the Third Lunar started with the newest books on the lower levels and as you went up, the books started dating further back in time. Ignoring the below-ground and ground level, which dated 350-and-up AN, he started with level two, around the time the six bearers of the Elements of Harmony began to retire, except Twilight Sparkle, who of course remained a Princess.

First up, mythology. The moment Prism approached this section he knew he was in for a treat. Or rather, a nightmare filled with books thicker than his hoof. The titles didn't seem to help a lot either. Almost all of them went along with specific names like 'On the Everfree Forest's Manticores' or 'A Short Introduction to Discord's Powers' all of which were far longer than what the descriptions seemed to suggest. Seeing as he really didn't know what he was looking for, trying to find the book that described the creature he'd seen the other night was a long and boring task.

After looking through stacks of mythology books, one seemed to catch his eye. 'The Changeling Conundrum' was a somewhat short book. It described the shapeshifting abilities, infilitration tactics, anatomy, and even the social hierarchy of the pony-like race known as 'changelings'. The tome was hidden pretty far into the mythology section, mainly because of the author's name, Zymosis Zodiac. A strange name, he concluded, and rather unfortunate for an author.

The author aside, upon skimming the book through, he noticed several sketches of a common changeling in various magical forms. The first was the typical changeling; black carparace, insectoid wings, holes in limbs. A charged changeling, empowered by the Queen; big, tough, no holes, sharp fangs and a horn. An abdivus Changeling; a changeling seperated from its physical form. Apparently not a lot was known about that variation, but the sketch depicted a creature incredibly similar to the one that he found on 144th street. Green eyes, large jaws, a body made of fine mist, and cast a shadow wherever it went(as no light were to make it through the mist), giving itself the appearance of being made of darkness.

He scanned the rest of the section for books describing changelings and their magical variants, but had little luck on level two or three. Level four and five had some of the oldest books in the library, and had to be preserved in a magical room, but to get in there he'd need a special library card.

Taking a few other books that looked interesting, he sat down and began to read through them.

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It was almost noon when Prism found himself back at the post office. After failing to obtain the information he was looking for, he followed the greylead path Amethyst had drawn on the map to get back to the place he first saw that creature. He hoped the stallion at the post office - who might not have been so crazy after all - would have answers.

The pony working there was different today, unfortunately.

"Is there a package you would like to pick up?"

"Well, actually, I'd like to see your coworker, if he's around. He was here yesterday."

"Coworker? Sir, I don't think there's anypony else operating this office. You must be confused."

"No, he was here yesterday, I swear!"

"If you're not here to pick up a package, sir, you're going to have to leave." the worker told him sternly.

Prism glared at him. "Fine." It didn't add up, though. Something was going on in that postal office, and he was going to find out what it was.

After walking around the building a few times, he eventually noticed a carefully hidden back door, next to the garage door. After tugging it, unfortunately, he found it was locked. He was about to smash it open with his magic, but he paused. Did he really want to break into a building? What if he was caught? Or if there was nothing there?

No. He almost got eaten by a mythical creature the other night, and now the postal worker dissapeared. There was definitely something going on. He smashed the lock and opened the door. While the lock had made a noise when he broke it, he didn't seem to trigger any of the alarms, and the stallion was still at his post. Prism hid behind a shelf. Where could he look? The place was massive. If there was a changeling nest in the building, he'd have tough luck finding the entrance.

Perhaps the hive wasn't in the building, but somewhere outside? Of course. But if the stallion was a changeling, or if the other worker was taken, there'd have to be an entrance in the building.

Prism carefully moved from shelf to shelf silently, trying not to alert the worker/changeling. The only exits from the building seemed to be the garage, the back door he used, and the door at the front. There were a lot of boxes in the post office. Strangely enough, some of them didn't even have names written on them, and others felt empty. After about a minute of Prism's search, the stallion at the front closed the shutters and began to walk down the isles.

Prism tried to drop low, crouching. Hopefully the stallion wouldn't notice him, and he could see wether or not there was, in fact, a way to get to the rest of the changelings. As the worker trotted down through the office, Prism noticed something strange happening to him. His form was... cracking, Like, pieces of his body were beginning to break off. Watching the process was a strange experience. As more and more began to break away, Prism could see the dark material seeping out.

Eventually the changeling made its way to a shelf, stacked with fake boxes. Prism crawled his way behind a shelf opposite to the abdivus changeling and watched from over a wrapped kettle. It took off a box, revealing a hole in the wall. The hole was too small though, it didn't look like the changeling was going to fit, he noticed.

His questions were answered when the changeling just flowed into the wall, like an octupus, and disappeared. That wasn't fair! How was he supposed to fit in there? Looking around, he got up and walked to inspect the wall. The hole was almost the size of his torso, but he didn't see he was going to be able to fit his head and legs in, while still being able to move.

If only he could just flow in like the changeling had...

He looked into the hole. It was pretty deep, and was on a slight downwards slope. He could squeeze into the hole, but move? His limbs would be stuck to him, and he'd end up clogged in the tunnel for the rest of the day, at least until the changeling came back.

An idea came to Prism. What if he didn't need to move his limbs, if he could just slide down? If he oiled the tunnel, it would be easy to slip down to the other side. He looked around the warehouse. This wasn't just a post office, it was a warehouse for shipped goods. It was full of almost every kind of product shipped from all over the world. He didn't like the idea, but he could find the right brand in one of those boxes.

It was lucky every box was labelled, as every single one was nearly identical. He didn't know how long the changeling was going to be down there, because lunch-break would be over soon, and he didn't have a coworker, apparently. He wasn't sure if many ponies got oil-products directly from Zebrica anymore, but one did, because he found a small bottle of what appeared to be lubricant mixed in with various bike parts. He couldn't tell what the brand was, but it would likely do the job.

He then proceeded to tip the box over by accident, spilling metal parts all over the concrete floor. It made a very, very loud crash. He froze. Did the changeling hear that? He ducked, looking at the wall where the entrance was. After hearing nothing for a few minutes, he grabbed the lubricant and began to use it on the tunnel. After the oil had all been used up, he tested the tunnel by putting a pillow in it. No problem, the pillow dropped through like there was nothing there.

He entered hind-legs first, followed by his torso, head, and front hooves. Nothing happened. He was stuck. It was all going wrong! He was going to get eaten! He struggled and kicked to get out, but he couldn't move. He calmed down. So this-

Prism was falling. Very rapidly. He'd quickly exited the entrance and was now on the other side of the wall, but there wasn't any ground to catch him afterwards. He was in a giant cavern that tunneled straight down, and he was falling down it. He was going to die. Flattened at the bottom of a giant pit underneath a post office, never to be found or heard from again. As the wind whistled through his hair, he became surer and surer of his imminent death.

Ker-poof.

After he hit the ground, everything stopped. There was something fluffy. Was this the afterlife? The celestial realm?

He was lying on his stomach. He got up.

He wasn't in heaven, it was still incredibly dark down in the pit, and he was standing on a gigantic pillow. There was a pony-shaped concave in the pillow, which was slowly rising back up from the impact. He'd made it. He lit a light-spell and got off the pillow.

The cavern-ground was slimy, and with the added lubrication from the oil, he almost slipped and knocked himself out against the cavern wall. There was a tunnel that broke off from the pit and led presumably towards the changeling nest.

He trotted towards the tunnel, careful to not lose his balance. What was this stuff? It was green and slimy, and there was more and more of it on the ground and on the walls as he went deeper. He could see light ahead.

He entered another cavern, almost as big as the one he fell down, but on the walls there were giant, slimy, cocoons. Some of them had ponies. There was the post office stallion, in the corner. The old one. He didn't look so good. Prism could see his bones showing from under his fur, like he'd had his lifeforce sucked away. At the center of the cavern was a floating light that illuminated the cavern. Something about the lighting in the room seemed off, though. Unnatural.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" It was the voice of the stallion from up above. Prism spun around. The changeling revealed its true form, baring its teeth.

All of a sudden, Prism noticed what was wrong. There were only two lights in the room, yet he had three distinctive shadows.

Tunnels

Prism backed away from the changeling, expecting a sudden attack. But instead of lunging for him like it did when he first met one of them, it simply stood in front of the tunnel leading further into the hive. Prism couldn't escape back the way he came, and so the only way out would be the very entrance the changeling was blocking. Was this even the same changeling as the one he saw by the streetlamp? He'd read about a theory that changelings had 'hive minds' and could share information with each other. It probably knew him either way.

"How did a pony get down here?" it hissed. Prism guessed it wasn't looking for an answer, because it bolted forwards, taking him by surprise, and bit his hind leg as he tried to get out the way. He headbutted it instinctively with his horn, and it reeled back, breaking apart. As fast as he could, he limped towards the tunnel entrance, trying to escape the creature. The last thing he could see was it reforming as he turned a corner.

Even when it had bitten him, he could barely feel it, as if it was just thin air biting into him. But when he hit it with his horn, he could feel something more solid, squishy. He looked down. There was still the issue of the mysterious extra shadow, which hadn't gone away since he noticed it in the pod-room. It mirrored his actions nearly perfectly, but he could tell it was fake because it fell where light should've made contact - a shadow where there shouldn't have been a shadow.

He tried to put pressure on his wound with magic as he limped through the network of tunnels. The bleeding wasn't as bad as it was, and was no longer dripping onto the ground, but it would've been easy to get grime and infection on his wound down in the tunnels. The last thing he wanted in the wound was the odd luminous slime that seemed to be everywhere, which nicely disguised the sound of his hoofsteps. It looked organic, but he had no idea what its properties were, if it was toxic or completely harmless. He decided to keep moving.

Every tunnel looked the same. He just kept wandering the underground network. He found several dead ends, large open spaces, and what looked to be completely useless tunnels in general. He didn't once see another changeling, and the one back in the pod-room was at the back of his mind. Every now and again he'd come across a row of trapdoors, but they were locked tight. Each one was labelled uniquely, but it wasn't in Equestrian.

As he wandered the tunnels he was definite that they were purposeful, but what they were for, he hadn't a clue. What he read in the book described a changeling nest very differently, like a beehive, not a labyrinth of caverns and doors, absent of a single living thing but himself.

He stopped to rest in a large, open space. His leg wasn't bleeding, but it didn't look good - he would be wise to get it looked at. He imagined trying to make up an excuse for checking in. "Where did you get this wound?" somepony would ask, "Oh, it was just my pet crocodile." he'd reply. It would probably work, too. Not that he knew anypony with a pet crocodile.

He leaned on a large elevated stone plateau at the center of the cavern and looked around. The room was surprisingly clean of the slime he constantly encountered, and it seemed very grand. He felt something jab into his back, pushing him off the stone structure. He got up and looked over the table. There was no changeling. A rectangular growth jutted from the plateau he was sure didn't exist a few seconds ago.

Something creaked, and he ducked behind the plateau, which he now decided looked a lot more like a stone table, after some observation. Slowly peeking his head up, he kept his ears down and watched as a solid metal door opened in one of the tunnels. Something was opening it! He hid behind the table again and breathed. Maybe it would just go past him, and then he could follow it.

He couldn't resist another peek, and found not a dark shadowy creature, but a mare carrying a basket in her mouth.

More doors were opening. The mare with the basket trotted towards the table, but Prism didn't see what she was doing as he was busy making himself as small and as stuck to the table as he could. He found another crevice under the table and he squeezed into it, hoping to hide himself in the shadow of the table.

"You know I can very well see you, unicorn." A feminine voice spoke from the other side of the table. He shuddered. They figured him out already?

"Don't call me a unicorn," came a different voice quickly, not far away from his hiding place.

"I know, I know. I'm just used to it."

"So, have we come to talk about the new tunnel system under the east highway, or the pony that might be wandering these halls as we speak?"

"I wouldn't worry about the pony. He'll starve eventually. The ponies never figure out the tunnels, poor things. The feeding ones really don't last very long."

"He might come across exit 1/5 accidentally. I knew we should have removed that old thing and replaced it."

"Don't sweat it, I'm here to talk about the tunnel system, anyways."

"The entire hive is there to fix it because a worker somehow forgot the stairway combination, despite the fact that it's literally written on every sign in the systems, and blew the entire tunnel with misplaced circuitry."

"I assure you, it was a malfunction!"

"Well, maybe your workers should fix their stuff!"

"Look, I came here to talk about the exit mechanism you came up with, because it was just as much the flaws you forgot as the code my worker forgot that destroyed the tunnel and almost alerted the ponies!" The other voice was silent.

"I warned you about the code, the powder, the shifting staircase, but you didn't listen, and now it's come back to bite us in the flank! Do we really need to include the five keys in every sign?" she said something Prism couldn't understand, and reminded him more of a guttural screech than a sentence.

"How dare you! Blame me for this? Speak that tongue? This meeting is over!"

Prism could almost hear his own shallow breathing in the silence. Then there were hoofsteps. The creaking of doors, and silence.

He stepped out from under the table and stretched his legs. Ponies were not designed for rolling up into tight spaces like that. He wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, but he had clues.

There was a way out somewhere, 'exit 1/5'. The conversation he'd overheard had been quite vague, but perhaps if he could get out he could put all this behind him and get to safety. The doors the ponies had come through were again, locked shut. He still had his saddlebags with him, although in the fall some of his items had been damaged and bent. His map was looking worse for wear, but he could still use it.

He started by turning the map over marking a red circle in the center of it, proceeding to draw lines coming out from all sides(the hallways), and at random, picked a path to continue on, mapping the tunnels as he went. There was a strange circular tunnel he found, that looped around and around, which confused him and caused him to draw lines going all over the map, till he scribbled it out and replaced it with a roundabout.

The tunnels were huge, he concluded. He'd only begun to explore one wing of it and the gridlike tunnels continued on for what seemed to be endlessly. The network could be as large as half of the island! After deciding that to continue in the direction he was going was pointless, he turned around and returned to the original room where the meeting had occurred. He'd never noticed earlier, but the stone table he'd hidden under was now covered in rectangles that jutted out at different sizes and shapes. Pathways going between them all. It was like a three-dimensional map. Of what? He had no clue.

Because of the lack of slime, four magic lanterns were strung across the room. Prism held up the map in front of a lantern to observe what he'd mapped. Annoyingly, parts of the original Manehattan map on the other side was shining through, causing the two to overlap. He didn't notice it at first, as he thought it was simply glare on the paper creating a second version of the map(an anti-aliasing effect)... except one was much tidier and coloured. He looked between the two near-identical maps and realised.

The tunnels had the exact same layout as the Manehattan streets! Chances were, every tunnel he explored was underneath a road. The only explanation for the doors was that they led to buildings on the surface. This meant the changelings likely had control over... half of Manehattan? He turned the map around and looked around the buildings and labels. Somewhere here there had to be a clue of where 'exit 1/5' was supposed to be.

He'd figured out where he was, underneath an intersection. He also knew that the two changelings who had met lived in the Fallen Star hotel and the other lived in a store called 'Equestria's Biggest Hats'. He circled them. The information could be useful. Looking at the two signs next to the doors, he thought he might be able to decipher the script... but he had no idea how to do that. The symbols looked erratic and absolutely nothing like their english counterparts. Only the five letters they both had in common, and upon inspection, in common with every other sign in the tunnels. A blooming flower, a pair of birds, a star, a grey circle, and a sun. He recorded them on his ever messier map.

If I were a life-sucking colony of shadow monsters wanting to take over all of Equestria starting from Manehattan, where would I place my most important exits? he thought to himself. It seemed like such an easy question at first, but harder he thought about it the further away the answer seemed.

The pit connecting the Post Office Depot to the underground system wasn't natural, but he doubted that he changelings created it. No, it had been there much longer. If the changelings wanted to leave, they could easily use their trapdoors... Except older buildings were still outfitted with changeling detectors on all entrances and exits, ones that were never removed. Important buildings like the Lunar Library, or the Government Buildings, which the changelings would need direct access to enter. It was a stretch, but it seemed likely. It wouldn't have been hard for them to tunnel up into them considering they hadn't already been detected, and there were no detectors inside of the building(changelings were not known to dig tunnels, and lived mainly in the sewers, though the tunnel system was much further down than the sewer system). The name had to be a clue though, what could 1/5 mean?

He looked back at the map defiantly. Circles, dots, diagrams and lines covered it, possible exits, meanings. But it was simple, he thought. His eyes fell on the Third Lunar Library. It sat on 15th of the 1st Boulevard and 34th on 5th Lane, the intersection of the two. One of his suspects was sitting on the intersection between 1 and 5. In fact, he wasn't far away from where its underground counterpart lay.

He trotted down the tunnel, what he presumed ran below 1st Boulevard through the center of the city. It was huge. There weren't many trapdoors, and there was more of that slime lining the walls. He ignored the hunger pangs that hit him as he approached the intersection. At first glance, it looked like any other part of the tunnel system. A rock wall. With a little bit of slime. But as he searched it with his eyes he could see the faint mark of a stone cut. He pushed it. It didn't give way, but he got a dissatisfying squelch from the slime.

If he was going to get out, he didn't mind getting his hooves dirtier. He broke the slime up with his hooves and peeled it off. This time when he pushed it with his magic, it shifted backwards, slid down, and revealed a staircase. How convenient! After walking in, he noted that were only five steps. The staircase was a meter high and ended in mid-air. Yes, convenient. He walked up it, expecting something to happen. He was hoping it would magically extend, but it was incredibly anticlimactic. It should have been simple! He would find the exit, and he should just be able to use it to get to the surface. He sat on the stairs, frustrated. It was hopeless, he was in the wrong place. He got up to leave, but he was too late, because the stone door automatically slid back into place. He couldn't move it. It was just him and the staircase.

"I'm not going to die here, I made it this far," he whispered to himself. "Not a hundred meters underground, in a broken staircase shaft," he said, louder. If he could only get out, warn everypony. They wouldn't listen to him though, would they? He'd sound crazy. An ancient race of evil shapshifters planning to overthrow Equestria? He hit the wall with his hoof, as if it was going to do anything.

To his surprise, it did. A piece of stone slid out of the wall. Another piece of the staircase. But it was on the opposite side of the other piece. Were there two staircases? As soon as it stopped, the walls lit up and the rest of the two staircases slid out and slotted into place. They connected together over thin pieces of interlocking metal, and formed a double helix. The entire mechanism seemed ridiculously impractical. One staircase was dark blue, and one bright orange. After a moment of hesitation, he started by going up the blue staircase, picking a direction at random.

"I'll be out of here soon enough. Can't wait to get some fresh air."