Chapter 0: All Illusions

I woke up in my bed and a cold sweat. I looked around me; the other bunks were vacant. All four of them. Unkempt as though their respective owners had already shuffled into the light of day. The closer I looked at the bunks, the more green they became. Stained in blood. I tried to look away. I saw green on the walls now, but instead of splotches, they were words. I tried to fly up to them, but my wings wouldn't budge. I trotted closer to the walls to decipher the messages:

Nightmares are poison.
Fueled by fear incarnate.
Made by one's weakness.

But what is a dream?
Collection of thoughts unbound.
The soul's own playground.

How to control dreams?
It's a projection of self.
Your mind is the key.

Controlling nightmares?
A difficult endeavor.
Betray any fears.
...
Feed the devourer.
Stay true to your history.
Foresee the future.

"Do you like them?" a familiar changeling voice called out from the darkness.

I didn't place it well at first. I thought it was the top assassin, but something seemed off. I looked back toward the walls. They were plain. I looked down toward the beds. On each stained bed sat a sheet of paper. On each paper was written one of the messages. Barbarian, the cocoonist, the top assassin, and the two quiet ones each had a paper on their empty beds.

"Don't you want to read yours?" the voice whispered.

I looked back toward my own bed. A piece of paper lay folded on it. My magic picked it up and pulled it close to me. I sat down and reached for the paper with my hoof. It stayed at my side, defying my commands. I sighed, and opened the paper with my magic:

Remember one thing:
In the subconscious, the mind
Has many shortcuts.
...
If your mind gets lost,
Then a shortcut is misplaced.
You may not be home.
...
This does not mean that
Your mind will draw blanks in dreams.
Misplaced thoughts will rule.

"What does this even mean? That I'm in some nightmare? Why can't I just wake up?" I seemed to be complaining to the darkness.

Finally, the darkness stirred. "Listen, you need to calm down," the familiar, yet unidentified voice said.

"I want to go home. I was on my way home and now everything repeats itself every night!"

"You need to calm down," it repeated with no emotion.

"No, not every night... I haven't been to this bed since I left that wretched hive!" I listened more carefully to the words I was saying. "Who says 'wretched?' That hive was an abomination! A horrid slaughterhouse! Why would I ever use such a weird word?"

"You are thinking too hard. You're exhausted. Please, calm down."

"How can I be exhausted in a dream?!" I screamed at it.

"How can you be exhausted in reality?" it hissed back. "You are awake for most of the day and yet somehow your soul always calls for rest. It is a mystery even to me."

I looked at the paper still in my magic. I looked back at the darkness. "Who even wrote these? And why are they all weird sounding?"

"It is a form of poetry written in alternating lines of 5 and 7 syllables. It is called Haiku. And it is the most beautiful form our language can take," the voice explained almost cheerfully, filled with some form of pride.

"And why's that?"

Light almost blinded me. Now I could see the door to our bunks opened, and the silhouette of the top assassin standing in the light. But the silhouette only had a single fang.

"Only they can tell you. Follow me."

The changeling disappeared into the light.

I followed. Now we were in the throne room. I had only been here once before, when I was assigned to Barbarian’s troop. She said if I did well enough I’d get my own troop someday. Until then, this the very best She could offer to any elite.

“Soldier Elite. Second in Command,” I whispered to myself.

Chrysalis sat upon the throne. The gems of the room glowed a brighter green than usual. She was practically a beacon of light. I stepped toward her.
The one-fanged, one-eyed wretch appeared before me, rising out of my shadow as though it were a doorway inside the floor.

"Tell her," it said in the familiar voice.

"Tell her what?" I asked calmly.

"Tell her of the recurring nightmare, of what became of your friends." It stepped aside, crooking its head with a smirk and sitting down as though the report would take a while.

"How much detail?"

It sighed. "Every detail. The whole story."

I trotted past it, my head down as I tried to think of where to begin. When I looked up, I saw the exit to the Hive. The five waited for me in the light.

"I have to watch them die again," I thought out loud.

"Please try to keep a steady breath," the voice whispered.

Saying that wasn't helping. "Why?! What's going to happen?" I screamed.

"You will lose track of reality. The darkness will close back in."

"And then what?" I asked, turning away from the light back toward the bleeding changeling.

"Then we try again. From the start," it explained.

"I can't do this again. I ran from that wret--horrible place and I won't go back!"

The light from the exit disappeared.

"Please calm down."

I shook my head. "Let me out of here. I want to go back to my real home."

"If you would revisit the other hive, you would see why that is no longer possible."

The green light around us faded. Its eye and blood glowed in the darkness.

"I'm not going."

A gust of wind chilled my spine.

"You have so many stories in this little brain of yours." The eye and blood stayed still in the dark even as it talked. "They are colliding and causing your resistance." It closed both of its eyes. The luminescent blood were sucked back inside of its broken eye, and both became invisible beneath the cloak of darkness.

"What are you talking about?!" I screamed into the utter blackness.

The response came from behind me, the voice was unrecognizable. "The biggest problem with history is that the dead are defenseless."

I looked around, unable to see the source of the voice. I spun around in the dark over and over looking for any kind of light. Suddenly there were four blue eyes. It was the quiet assassins.

"Are you guys alright?" I called out to them.

"You cannot save them!" the deeper voice called out.
"How could you help them when you..." the feminine voice called out.
"Cannot save yourself!" the male finished.

It was the two-headed Queen. The four eyes turned to two, and the glowing flesh and blood illuminated their fangs. It rose up to twice their height. It shambled towards me, but this time there was no light to run to. I stood my ground.

"What are you?!" I screamed at it.

"It is perfection. It is harmony. It is life eternal!" the voice called out.

"Shut up, Redemption!" the male head screamed back at the darkness.
"We will answer for ourselves."
"For we speak the truth."

It paused for a moment

"We are the cycle."
"The infinite loop of bloodshed."
"Loop of life and death."

"What cycle?" I asked them.

"What do you feel now?" he asked.
"What will you do about it?" she asked.
"How will they feel then?"

Another pause.

"You have lost your friends."
"You would kill to avenge them."
"Now more are stricken."

"Stricken with what?"

"Feeling so much grief."
"Fuel for the deadly sins."
"Spreads everywhere."

"What?"

"The cycle of death."
"Fleeing from the dying light."
"The cycle of life."

"Who are you?"

"We are Advantage," he said.
"We trot in the light of day," she added.
"As you do in dark."

"What do you want from me?"

"Only a story."
"Tell us the one about them."
"With all the details."

"I'm not sure I know the ending..." I admitted, shaking in the darkness.

"Oh, I'm sure they can help with that!" Redemption called out. "They can help with anything!"

They stepped over me.

Blood dripped from the knife in their shoulder. Blood poured from the wound in their chest. It bled onto my head. Redemption grabbed me from behind. He threw me out from under them. I landed on my back. The heads loomed over me. The male lunged at me. I tried to shield from their fangs, but they took my forelegs. He chewed them in front of me as I screamed. I was in their Hive again, with the mob behind me screaming for more blood.

"You cannibals! You zombies! You fucking freaks!" Barbarian screamed from the side, still bound in chains.

"If you can't use it,"
Crack. "You do not deserve a mouth!"
Crack. "Let alone a soul."

I was out of breath and missing both forelegs. I was still on my back and, without my front legs, had no idea how to get back up. He chastised them as they approached. I watched as the female horn took the dumped goop from the filthy dirt and lifted it towards them. The goop was not nearly as bright as I remembered. They stood over Barbarian. The male head's horn began to glow.

I tried to look away. I looked up toward the mob. A few of them shambled into the light, upside-down. A horrible snap pulled their attention toward their Queen and my eyelids down tightly to their resting place. The darkness could not protect me from the feeling of exoskeleton hitting my chest. I opened my eyes to a piece of a jaw. I squirmed, but my legs only promised my delivery to the mob. One of them galloped into the light, snatching the piece of jaw in front of me and devouring it. It looked toward me like a rabid manticore would look at a rabbit. Redemption pushed it away and forced it back into the crowd. Then we both looked over to the Queen. The male head's horn glowed, as Barbarian's tongue hung limp from his permanently open mouth. The former boss looked over to me.

"No... Please..." I whispered.

Barbarian's head was pulled back and the blood in her aura was forced down his throat. His gag reflex did little to turn the tide. After it was all either in him or on him, the Queen let him go. He just sat there. Their neck cracked and the female head released him from the chains. His eyes closed. The mob became quiet as his body subtly began to shake. Blood leaked from his eyes. Blood dripped from his nose. It leaked from his own exoskeleton, mixing with the dried stains on his own carapace. The female head smiled as they circled him. With a crack the male was smiling, its fangs dripping in slime. He spat on the ground in front of Barbarian. The prisoner's ears bled and as his eyes opened blood poured from the lids. The increased flow connected his puddle to the spit. The Queen trotted over him, chuckling in that deep, sinister voice while blood dripped over him. The spit glowed a bright green, which spread to Barbarian. It grew brighter and brighter.

He could not scream. But he tried. As the light turned to fire his throat erupted in more fuel. Screeching, gurgling death echoed the room. The mob cheered. Redemption cheered. Both of the heads laughed in a distorted harmony. As all these sounds spun my head around. The sight of so much blood and pain bid my consciousness away. My head fell back, hitting the ground. I closed my eyes.

Everything went dark again.