1 - No Good DeedView OnlineForward1 - No Good DeedHe opened his eyes and screamed. He stood back up, then fell on his belly and smooched the floor, praising the ancients for his hard chitin. Still, his head felt one size too large, his hearing was muffled, and his vision swam and wobbled sickeningly. What’s more, his once pristine jacket and vest were dirt stained. He looked down at his body, his brow furrowing slightly. No, no. This form just won’t do. He closed his eyes, concentrated and allowed emerald flames to consume him. When he reopened his eyes, he once again was a plain charcoal-coated unicorn with a short white mane. His magic didn’t work on clothes, a shame, but he would have to make due. He scanned his surroundings; the most pressing subject was where he had landed. Judging by the deep foliage, twisted trees, and stench of decay, it had to be either the Hayseed Swamps or the depths of the Everfree. Miles away from civilization, either way. “Well, could be worse. Could’ve landed in the badlands.” A pause as he contemplated that possibility. “Yeah. Much worse. Oh well, better get moving if I want to be back home for dinner.” He looked skyward, at what little sunlight he could see, and waited just long enough to see the shadows cast on the forest floor move. With that, he got an answer as to which way was east and west. He knew Canterlot was to the northwest of the Everfree. The town of Ponyville was also in the same direction. This’ll be easy, he thought, his grin growing wider. He was no stranger to traveling. After four hours later, he had to sit to catch his breath. “Okay. Not that easy.” He rubbed his hind hooves and sighed in relief. I’m sure the exit can’t be that far. The grin from hours prior returned. He felt a rumble in his stomach. And not a minute too late either. I can’t wait to try some pastries from the local bakery. He stood back up and continued his journey, already tasting the frosting and sweet wheat. Just as the imagined sweetness reached its pinnacle, a sound echoed through the forest, startling him. He pivoted his head in all directions seeking the source, but his ears could only catch deafening silence. He allowed himself to relax once again. Perhaps it had all been in his imagination. Then another sound rang through the forest, this time clearer, louder. Some kind of guttural growling accompanied by the sound of something eerily similar to a voice. He whipped his head in the direction of the commotion. The sound soon became a clear voice. “Somepony, help us!” The tone spoke of a very young colt or mare. Their footfalls were accompanied by a small cacophony of haphazard galloping. Whoever they were, they weren’t alone. He set himself into a gallop. Be it headstrong bravado, or just plain idiocy, he was not going to sit idly by. Hard as it was to believe for a changeling, he was raised to be wild and free—not just another drone that sat on his flank. He heard something else not far away. It didn’t sound like the clippety-clop of equine footfalls. They were too soft and too elegant—something one would expect from a creature that relied more on stealth and speed than power. Then it hit him. The sound had to be made by paw pads. He was familiar with it from his youth growing up in the wilds. Yet the Everfree wasn’t home to wolves. It is home to timberwolves, though! He picked up the pace, now galloping at full speed despite the dull pain eroding at him. He made a turn by some bushes just as another scream rang out. He jumped through some foliage, a few small branches ripping at his already damaged coat. He appeared just beside the ones crying for aid. The four ponies—two young fillies, a teenage colt, and another colt on the verge of adulthood—were trapped against a tree by a pack of six timberwolves, all growling and salivating at a meal to come, their breath visible and reeking of vile putrefaction. Without any hesitation, he jumped at the pack of wooden lycans, kicking and punching with practiced fury. “Hey guys,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now’s your chance to run!” He shot the group a confident beam. “I got this!” His every move was carried out without trepidation, and within the span of a minute, he had beaten back at least three of the six plantimals. Everything seemed to be going better than fine, but then he felt a sharp pain erupt from one of his hind legs. He turned and beheld the head of a previously vanquished timberwolf gnawing at his appendage. Seconds later, two of the lycans were upon him, their wood fangs unable to bite through his disguised chitin, but clamping onto him fiercely. The largest of the beasts reared itself up, and with one mighty swipe, struck him right across the head. The shock was too much, and his disguise evaporated. Still, he hung onto consciousness, once more setting his eyes on the four ponies, now cowering away not only from the fierce plantimal predators but also from the changeling before their eyes. “What are ya waiting for? Run!” he shouted, just as another of the wolves pounced on him with such ferocity, he was sent flying into a nearby tree, where he impacted head first.
0 - ReminisceView OnlineForward0 - Reminisce“There is a very important rule that you always have to remember, little grub,” a changeling twice his size and thrice his age said to him. “Always follow your heart and do what you believe is right.” She placed both hooves over her mouth and stretched the corners upwards. “And smile from the heart, even in the lowest of times!” He tilted his head to the side. “Uh… why would we smile from the heart?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’re changelings. We’re good at faking them.” She let go of her lips and placed a hoof over her eyes. “Aya!” she exclaimed, running the hoof down her face. “Little grub, I know it is hard to go against your instincts, but you and I, we are not like the others. To reject one’s queen and seek the path of coexistence is something that only very few have ever done!” She set eyes on the young changeling before her. “You of all ’lings—because you are young, but I can see a wild spark in your eye, let me tell you—you should heed my words most of all.” He shrugged. “I was only making a suggestion.” Her eyes narrowed. “Then why seek me in the first place?” “Where else would I go?” He sat on his haunches and sighed. “To go from being trained as an infiltrator, to an exile...” He set his eyes on the elder changeling. “Just as it happened to you.” She nodded. “The hive is indeed harsh to those that do not think like it,” she said, and her eyes drifted towards the distant horizons of the Badlands. “The other grublings used to say you were a witch,” he said, standing on his hind hooves and spreading his forelimbs. “ ‘Follow the code of the hive, lest the witch comes to eat you up’!” He shook his head. “Feels like a bad joke now.” She laughed in reply. He shook his head. “The others never really thought about walking up to a pony and asking for love nicely. I can’t help but wonder why. I mean, it feels like such a natural thing to try.” The elder changeling closed her eyes. “Changelings are slaves to their hunger. You are free now, but that freedom is frail. You must be prepared to lay everything down to protect it.” A smirk formed on her lips. “But don’t worry little one. Everything will be fine as long as you stay true to who you are and never forget to—” "—Smile!" he told himself. “Hey, are you listening to me? I said I wanted some custard-stuffed eclairs, not strawberry!” The noble slammed his hoof on the counter, a single strand of his well-groomed name falling over his face. “I cannot be late to the Royal Wedding!” The changeling sighed and put on a toothy grin. “Of course! I apologize for the error.” He lit his horn and wrapped the box of erroneous treats in his emerald-toned magic. “I’ll exchange them right away. Free of charge, of course.” “That’s what I like to hear,” the noble haughtily said. “Make it fast. I am a very important guest and now behind schedule!” Without another word, he took the box behind the counter and emptied it. With practiced skill, he split his focus, levitating a pair of large silver tweezers and using them to carefully box a new dozen custard eclairs. He placed the new box on the counter, smile still worn on his lips. “Here you go. A dozen custard eclairs.” The noble popped the lid open and took a bite of the first eclair he could get his hoof on. With a grunt of approval, he closed the box. “I do hope this is the last time I have to complain about mixed purchases.” “Of course,” he replied cheerfully. “Won’t happen again. I can guarantee it!” Nodding, the noble levitated the box and walked out of the shop, not even bothering to look back. With a weary sigh, he let his smile drop ever so slightly. “I could have sworn I gave him the right order.” He turned to look at the returned strawberry eclairs. The corners of his mouth rose as an idea formed in his head. He packed not only the eclairs into a new basket but a menagerie of other treats. Not every day that a Royal Wedding takes place. What better time to advertise? He reached to the counter and picked up a large pile of business cards, turned over the sign sitting on his door, and with an erasable marker, he wrote: Out on business. Be back later in the afternoon If you need any orders filled, slide request under door After locking up his shop, he took a huge breath of the clear and crisp Canterlot air before setting out for the Palace. There was a spring to his step, for there hadn’t been this much excitement since the last Summer Sun Celebration, the happy memories of that day bringing an even larger beam to his lips. He passed by groups of excited citizens, waving at them and offering some of his pastries as free samples. Some would take the offered treat and business card that went it, but most would turn up their noses and go about their day. He had already gotten accustomed to the ‘high and mighty’ attitudes of most Canterlot folk. Deep down, he knew the grand majority were good, and he was happy to just be able to live among them in peaceful coexistence. As he approached the palace grounds, the giddy feelings from earlier waned, and something strange filled the air. He couldn’t place his hoof on it, but he could swear he had sensed it long ago, almost like something instinctual. He stopped in his tracks and looked around. What’s this overbearing feeling gnawing at me? His eyes scanned the horizon, and he noticed a few ponies pointing upwards with horrified faces, while at the same time, something that very closely sounded like cracking glass echoed through the hair. He himself finally looked skywards, and he felt his jaw drop. High above, thousands of black spots flung themselves against the magical barrier meant to keep the city secure during its ever-important day. And, the barrier was cracking. Dropping his basket, he turned around and galloped at full energy. Of all creatures to be here today, why them? he thought as he raced past the many stunned onlookers. He didn’t look up when he heard the sound of shattering glass, nor the sound of explosions around him. “Help!!” rang a female voice, somehow cutting through the din. Against his instinct to flee, he stopped in his tracks. His eyes fell on the source: a young mare and her two fillies, all cornered by a trio of vicious changelings in blue armor. His brow creased. Chrysalis had no right to be here threatening his people. As flawed as ponies could be, they were the family he had been denied. Without another thought, he jumped in front of the three attackers. The invaders laughed, screeching orders to each other that to every other pony would have sounded shrill, non-sentient, and animalistic. The first changeling jumped at him, fangs bared and hooves ready to strike. Moving in a rhythm that was at once familiar and alien, he dodged and riposted. He did the same when the other two charged him. Combat was a dance he had been taught before his exile many years ago, and he’d always thought he’d forgotten it all by now. Yet, when it mattered most, he recalled every jab, kick, tackle, hook and haymaker from the gulf of time. He'd been a surefire candidate for the hive's elite, all the way till the moment he'd been exiled It didn’t take much more to make all three changelings flee in terror. Only when they were far on the horizon did he allow himself to breathe. Another explosion—this time from above. His ears twitched as they zeroed in on the source of the cacophony. He didn’t bother looking upwards before diving at the family he had just saved, knocking them out of the way as a small cascade of rubble fell. As the dust settled, his vision returned. He tried to move, but failed. His body was pinned, a ton of stone pressing against him. He looked towards the family, and a wave of relief washed over him when his eyes met the young mare and her children slowly recovering from the earlier shock. The young mare let out another scream. She grabbed hold of her children and crawled away, eyes wide in terror. “M-monster! He’s a monster!” “H-hey,” he said, reaching out a hoof, “It’s okay. There are no mons—” he paused, feeling something cold in his gut. His eyes were on his own hoof, no longer the charcoal gray, but rather a shiny, holey black. At once, he knew why the young mare was freaking out. If he could just talk to her. That was how he had gotten out of other sticky situations in the past. “Hey, I think we found one!” the deep voice of a stallion rang not too far away. Had he been able to, he would have turned his head to see them. It didn’t take long for the group to become visible. Five stallion unicorns barely out of colthood, all glaring daggers at him. He put on a broad smile. “Gentlecolts, so glad to see you all! Could you maybe, perhaps, help me out of here?” he asked, a part of him already knowing pretty well what was about to happen. The burliest of the five pointed his hoof at him. “Look, it’s smiling! It’s planning to attack!” “Then let’s wipe that smile off its face!” another of the fellows bellowed. At the command, all five were upon him, kicking and punching. Remember, you gotta be happy. Even when there doesn’t seem to be a reason to, he said to himself after every blow. Sure, it hurt, but his chitin was very durable. It also helped that they weren’t the strongest ponies he’d ever met—they hit like nobles. There was a very loud boom coming from the palace. “L-let’s get out of here!” one of the five unicorns yelled. The other four followed, not even giving him one last look back. His gaze fell on the young mare, her eyes still locked on his figure. “Uh… what’s going on?” he asked. The young mare said nothing, only shaking her head as tears flowed from her eyes. Something massive, like a wave of water, caught him. Before he knew it, he was flung out of his entombment and was flying past the streets of his beloved home. Well, at least I locked the store…
2 - EndureView OnlineForward2 - EndureThough trembling before his queen, now was the only chance he would ever have to voice himself. If he faltered, he would live out the rest of his life in absolute regret. He couldn’t imagine a worse fate than that. “What have you got to say for yourself? What could have possibly crossed that little mind of yours to make you think you are better than the rest of us!?” Chrysalis bellowed, her throne room swarming with hundreds of other changelings, all staring straight at him. He stood tall and resolute before his matriarch. “I believe we no longer have to cling to the old ways,” he replied. “Look around, my queen! Civilization has changed, and I believe it would welcome us with open hooves! But we have to stop taking, stop subjugating, and stop conquering. We have to coexist!” There were murmurs all throughout the hive. A scant few voices were of unsure agreement; the majority were sneers of profanation. Her horn lit up, and with it arose greater magics only fit for deities. Arcana saturated the very air, and he felt warm as the glare of his queen fell upon him. “Do you befriend the water in the river before you drink it? You are a waste,” Chrysalis hissed. “Your words are treason!” The magic in her horn, now charged to its fullest, struck him, forcing him to his knees. “Guards. Pick up that piece of… filth… and remove him.” She turned to face the rest of the room, all changelings present cowering before their leader. “From this day forth, his name is to be stricken from our memories.” She shot another bolt of magic, this one striking a pillar of ancient stone, which exploded and crumbled into dust. “The hive’s laws are absolute. Only by following them will we endure.” “WE WILL ENDURE!” Thunderous stomping and deafening echoes erupted with nary a sign of hesitation. Chrysalis looked on with a wide grin on her lips, only sparing one last look at the one who had dared challenge her might. “He is but a single fool,” she muttered. “I am still queen. I will always be queen. Soon, all will bow to me!” He woke up with a start. Despite the numbing soreness, he stood back up, ready to resume his fight. He was shocked to not only see no timberwolves, but no ponies either. Even the once bright afternoon had turned into an all-encompassing night. Must have scared the hunks of wood off, he thought as he stretched his forelimbs and neck. Still, I must have been out longer than expected. One final check of his surroundings and he set forth into the unknown, trying to recall just what direction he had been traveling before his scuffle with the timberwolves. Every step he took led him deeper and deeper into the void. Perhaps more worrisome was the cold sensation running down his spine. Something didn’t quite feel right, but stopping was not an option, so he kept moving with a determined grin firmly planted on his lips. Still, every step sapped his strength. As the rumbling in his gut intensified, it quickly became very clear to him what he had to do. At the idea of starvation, his thoughts turned back to the ponies he had rescued. What had become of them? He hadn’t spotted any further signs of a struggle when he had awoken, so the safest bet he could think of was that they had indeed escaped. But if they had, couldn’t they at least have taken him with them? He shook his head at the question. Of course, they wouldn’t. Maybe a bit too much to ask from younglings. Nonetheless, he wished they were still around. Maybe then he could feed just a little bit. I mean, just a nibble or two of their love. What harm could it do? He shook his head at those thoughts. I am not going to give in to that base instinct. I can get by for a couple of days with food. Should be enough to get me out of the Everfree. He looked to his surroundings, his eyes only spotting bushes, dead leaves, and trees that looked as if they had existed forever. His grin wavered ever-so-slightly as he gawked at the only thing that looked remotely edible. He shrugged and set his full attention on the first bush that looked appetizing. He hadn’t even eaten more than a few scraps of leaves before he was regurgitating them back. “Gaaa,” he wheezed out, wiping the bile off his lips. He sat on his haunches and placed a hoof on his gut. Me and my bright ideas. The sounds coming from his stomach was now becoming overbearing, each one wracking at him and driving his instinctual self into a frenzy. Just gotta keep moving, he told himself, standing back on his hooves. So close to the exit. I can almost taste it! He sniffed the air, his lips watering. Actually, there was something alright, though what it was eluded him. The majority of his mind gave in to the aroma, with only a small fraction questioning just why he was so attracted to it. The closest explanation that formed in his mind was that it somehow reminded him of better times, followed closely by the sensation of pure jubilation and bliss. He stepped into a clearing, passing by some oddly shaped trees and bushes that looked far too composed to be natural. Past the trees—which he now recognized as being formed into an impromptu entryway—his eyes met something he hadn’t at all expected. A quaint settlement tucked in the middle of the Everfree. The inhabitants, cheerful ponies, looked at him with eyes full of nothing but love. “Well, hello there! Welcome to our village!” one of the inhabitants—an older stallion of a light-brown coat and dark gray mane and beard—cheerfully exclaimed the instant he had set a hoof into the settlement. He gave the stallion a wave. “Hello,” he said, a smile on his lips, but a mind full of uncertainty. “I’m sorry to be a bother, but I seem to be lost. Is there any way that I can rest here for the night?” His eyes fell on the beaming faces of the townsfolk as they gathered around him and the elder stallion. Each one emanated enough love that he could feel his arcana rapidly increasing despite not actively feeding. This is incredible, he thought as he scanned the crowd before him. With this much love, I could not only feed an entire hive, I could become as powerful as Chrysalis herself! “Why of course you can stay the night!” the elder stallion said, grabbing hold of his hoof and shaking it vigorously. “In fact, you can stay here tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that!” He turned to the crowd. “We would all love nothing more than to welcome you as a permanent member of our community. Isn’t that right?” The crowd’s cheers answered the elder pony’s question. He was stunned. Never before had he been welcome anywhere with such joy. Certainly not back in his old hive, and not even back when he had chosen Canterlot as his new home. “Thank you very much for the offer,” he replied, setting his eyes on the town elder, “but I only need to stay the night.” He turned to look at the crowd. “I… really appreciate the sentiments. Really! It’s just that… I have to get back home.” The grin on his lips doubled in size. “After all, ponies are going to need plenty of treats during the rebuilding of Canterlot!” “Why don’t you sleep on it?” the town elder said. “I’m sure you are weary and fatigued from your travels. A night’s rest will help you think clearer.” He nodded in reply. “Right this way then,” the stallion said, the crowd parting to give the two room. As the ponies of the crowd parted, they kept their eyes on him, their love for him still unwavering. If anything, the emotion only seemed to strengthen. He grappled with his baser instincts, demanding he gorge on the free emotions in the air. Any other changeling would have long gone mad with gluttony. The town elder led him towards a single-storey house a bit towards the outskirts of the settlement. It was colored white, with a black roof and with red windows and door. “I do hope you forgive us for this shack. It’s the only house we have right now that’s vacant.” He gave the stallion a nod. “Hey, shelter’s shelter. Am I right, or am I right?” The elder raised an eyebrow and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You are quite the strange fellow. If there is anything I can help you with, do not hesitate to call.” The stallion gave him a bow and turned back towards his town. “Now, if you would excuse me, I must return to my people.” He waited for the stallion to vanish from sight before turning his full attention to the house. It really did look as if it had seen better days, but as he had said earlier, it was shelter. And really, he wouldn’t be spending more than a night, despite his every instinct yelling at his stupidity for choosing to pass on a nearly endless supply of love. The interior was shockingly spartan: there was only a single bed, a small couch, and a small kitchen that, as expected, was nearly empty. He headed for the bed, where he flopped his body and allowed himself to relax. He just needed to shut his eyes for a bit and think things in more detail. “Yeah. Just a little bit of rest…”
3 - ForwardView OnlineForward3 - ForwardWhy did I do it? The question had popped into his head more times than he could count. He felt numb and cold and alone. He had gotten the short end of the stick because he hadn’t understood the concept of letting things go. Be it a desire to prove a fundamentally false truth or a lack of understanding, he struggled, he fought, and he ultimately lost. He wasn’t one of them, would never be one of them, couldn’t be one of them. If I already know, why do I keep struggling so hard to prove otherwise? He could hear whispers in the air. He couldn’t see their faces, but he could sense their emotions thick as smoke. Why can’t you understand? A creeping darkness grew around the edges of his perception. He should have been in agony, desperately grasping at any energy still within him. Yet, all he could really feel was a numbing frigidity. I just wanted to help you… He awoke panting, cold sweat clinging to his body. His gaze fixated on the ceiling first as his mind played catch up with every other sense. When at last he had his full faculties in order, he sensed the wrongness. Gone was the overbearing love, replaced with a dread he couldn’t describe. He cautiously made his way out of the borrowed house. Rather than setting hoof on familiar soil, he instead found himself standing on a trail of dead leaves and twigs surrounded by pitch blackness. With no other direction to go, he walked down the road. Every step brought with it a growing unease, as the sensation of a dozen piercing eyes washed over him. Yet he could not see anything. Only the road was visible, its path ever twisting and turning, leading to some unknown destination. At last, he exited into what he recognized as the center of the village. Only, it was now unrecognizable. The houses looked old, and there was not a single townsfolk to be seen. Save for a single figure standing in the middle of the village—one whose face was both familiar and alien. He trotted up to the town elder. Eyes shut, dark gray mane overgrown, and brown coat a shade lighter than before. “I had a feeling you would come,” the stallion said in a distant, cold, and empty voice. There was something else too. A familiar honeyed tone that betrayed the elder’s past wisdom. He took a step back. “You’re not the elder. Who are you?” “Do you not recognize my voice?” the pony asked. Where there had once been a deep yet soothing masculine voice, there now was a low-pitched female one full of mocking and swagger. “You of all changelings should remember me.” “Chrysalis,” he whispered. The elder laughed deeply and darkly as emerald flames engulfed his body. When the flames died away, the tall and slim body of his former queen stood before him, her jubilant grin nothing short of derisive. At once, he understood what it all meant. The love he had felt, the temptation the town had provided, the unnatural dark now accosting his eyes. “Why?!” he asked, uncaring to the loudness of his tone or the sensation of a thousand figures crawling out from the surrounding darkness. Chrysalis scoffed, whipping her mane to the side as her glare fell upon him. “A lion cares not what the sheep has to say,” she coldly replied. “T-then, why the theatrics?” he stuttered out. Chrysalis’ brow rumpled as the corners of her lips dropped. “Without the hive, you were supposed to be less than nothing! Yet, you have thrived. How? And why do you refuse to accept so much love—so much power—just sitting there for the taking?” She roared out her last question, her eyes growing wide and wrathful. He did his best to ignore the buzzing of wings and murmuring of a thousand voices somewhere behind him. “I won’t lie. You are like a god to all changelings. Given enough love, your power dwarfs any other on this world. Yet, where it matters most, you fail.” Chrysalis hissed at his words. Most others would have taken it as anger, but he could see it in her eyes. Something had snapped. It was then that he saw it, felt it. “You think power is everything, and you refuse to grow!” he shouted at his former queen, the veil of darkness parting at his words, a thousand figures swarming within vanishing along with it. Now, where the void had once stood, a path leading to a bright green field awaited. Chrysalis said nothing, but the change in her appearance was unmissable. Her eyes lost their sharpness, her figure slumped ever so slightly, and her breathing became uneven and shallow. At last, he stood tall before his former matriarch. “There was a time when I gazed upon you with awe and admiration. Now, I can only see a desperate fossil clinging to her tired ways. Unless you change, someday, a ‘ling will stand up to you, and when they do, everything you have ever built on the back of exploitation and conquest will come crashing down.” With those final words, he turned to face the green fields and began his trek towards them. “Wh-where do you think you are going?” Chrysalis shouted, her once regal voice rutted and imperfect. He stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around, the corners of his mouth risen as high as they would ever go. He fixed Chrysalis with a soft look, the answer to her question forming on his lips: "Forward." Chrysalis snapped her eyes open, gasping for air and instantly turning away from her subjects. “My queen, is everything okay?” one of the infiltrators next to her asked. “Y-yes, yes! It’s all okay,” she snapped, quickly running a hoof on her face to wipe away what she would never admit were tears. “What I want to know is what’s the situation?” At her question, their ears lowered as they pointed their heads at the requested target. Chrysalis followed their gazes, at last seeing what it was that everyling else saw. Four ponies stood clustered around a fifth figure, one lacking a mane or coat, and instead covered in black chitin. His eyes were shut, his body still as a statue. “He’s not waking up,” one of the ponies, the oldest colt, said in a hushed voice. “M-maybe he’s… you know… very s-sleepy,” one of the group’ two fillies sobbed, her tone betraying the fact that was all too clear. The rest of the group shook their heads in reply. “Why did he do it?” another of the ponies, a younger colt, asked. “I-I mean, I… I…” He put a hoof on his head. “I’m s-so confused.” “Wish we could ask him,” the older colt said. “Whatever his reasons, he saved us, and we owe him for it.” The four ponies all nodded in unison. Using their combined telekinetic magic, they picked the changeling up into the air. Without saying another word, they began their trek back home. “My queen,” one of Chrysalis’ scouts said, pointing at the group. “They’re taking the body with them.” He turned to his comrades, all of whom spread their wings in preparation to attack. “No,” Chrysalis said, turning away. “No point in wasting energy on them. We have to regroup with the others and plan our next move.” “But my queen! We need the energy! Those ponies are radiating love! We’d be stupid not to take this opp—” “I said, we are leaving,” Chrysalis hissed, instantly shutting up the guard. No more words were spoken as Chrysalis and her group walked away from the scene, trekking deeper and deeper into the Everfree.
