A New Land to Destabilize
It was a day like any other. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and children were playing in the park.
Alas, those were things that couldn't be seen for what seemed like miles at the headquarters of a man whose name causes the hairs on the back of even the hardiest men's necks to stand up.
That man was George Soros. Billionaire, philanthropist and puppeteer extraordinaire.
“Okay, Jacob, what is it that you want me to see exactly?” asked Soros as he and his fellow billionaire—Jacob Rothschild—entered a large, open chamber that looked as though it'd been torn straight out of a medieval torture room.
But without all of the blood and gore.
“Why, that Mister Soros,” Jacob said as he gestured to a vibrant portal at the other end of the room. “I was just pondering how to get a bank into North Korea when that thing appeared out of thin air! I was quite scared to be honest. It nearly incinerated my favorite hundred million dollar lounge outfit!”
George nodded, clearly giving the same number of fucks as your average kindergarteners credit score. He approached the portal and examined it, his Paleolithic era eyes slowly adjusting to the brilliant light of the portal. “Hmm…” He rubbed his chin and nodded approvingly. “Jacob!”
“Yes, sir?” The fourth Baron Rothschild asked curiously. Although he was accustomed to his minion asking questions, he never expected to hear enthusiasm, as that was only expected from lowly sheep when they saw the latest regurgitated gadget or piece of entertainment spat out by some mega corporation (owned by yours truly of course).
“Jacob, I request that you have my son, Alexander, watch over my assets while I enter this portal,” George said as a sinister smile that could make even Satan himself cower in fear grew over his face.
“But sir, Alexander is at UC Berkeley for the semester,” Jacob replied, an almost immediate sense of relief filling him. The last thing the Baron of banking monopolies needed was to deal with a young Soros.
An old one was bad enough, especially when his radio didn't work.
“Oh, well, tell him to get his ass home or I'm freezing his assets,” George replied. “And if that doesn't work, you watch over them. Just don't do anything stupid or I'll kill you.”
“Yeah, good luck, George,” Jacob said as his puppet walked through the portal. I'm so buying a bunch of cats…
George found himself floating through a rainbow colored realm of… color. It was surreal, really. Most of what George ever saw was countries he sent into disarray, money, and daily reports from Jacob.
It was about as entertaining as one could imagine.
After a bit though, he was thrown out of the strange dimension and landed face first in a very dark room filled with what felt like layers upon layers of dust and sand.
“Oh my! Are you okay?” asked a soft voice from not too far off. “Oh, by Celestia! You're quite unlike anything I've ever seen.”
George slowly stood up, his Jurassic era bones popping back into place as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of wherever he was. After a bit, a midnight-blue light illuminated the room and he saw something he only expected to see in a fever dreams (or when Jacob brought back a souvenir from those Illuminati meetings he always raved about).
“What… are you a horse?” he asked as he lay eyes on an alicorn who sported a warm smile. “And are you talking?”
“Well, I'm an alicorn, and you're the first visitor I've had in a thousand years!” The alicorn gasped and blushed slightly. “Oh, where are my manners? My name's Princess Luna, and I’m—er, was—co-ruler of Equestria.”
Soros raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, he viewed the alicorn in an entirely different light. “Equestria you say?”
“Yes, that's where I'm from,” Luna replied as he she pointed to the wall. “Oh, uh, I guess you can't see it from in here.” She cast a spell that caused the wall in front of them to become seemingly non-existent. Ahead of them, Soros saw a large, Earth-like planet… sort of.
To him, all he saw was a new playground.
“So, that's what the world looks like from above?” Soros inquired as he turned to face Luna once more. “Quite amazing.”
Luna nodded and smiled. “If I may ask: where did you come from?”
George remained silent for a few moments as he got to work doing what he did best when he wasn't funding the destabilization of sovereign states.
Creating distrust.
“I too come from your world,” Soros said with a small smile. He walked over to Luna and wrapped an arm around her. “In fact, your main ruler sent me here to speak with you.”
Luna's eyes widened and a large smile formed on her face. “Celestia sent you!? Oh, has she forgiven me for what I did to her?”
Soros's smile faded and he shook his head. “I'm afraid not,” he said solemnly. He removed his arm from around Luna and looked down at the ground. “Celestia wished to inform me that there will be dire consequences when you arrive back home.”
Luna's once large smile was instantly replaced with a frown and a look of immense sadness. Despite that sadness though, her voice was filled with unbridled anger. “She has not forgiven me after a millennia of imprisonment!?” Her voice echoed throughout her prison chamber and loud enough that that it caused the floor itself to shake with the intensity of a small earthquake.
This, naturally, did not go unnoticed by the destabilizer of nations, who lay against a wall.
“You're quite the powerful being,” Soros said as he stood up. He brushed some dust off from his suit and adjusted his tie. “Tell me, where did you obtain such power?”
Luna ignored her visitor's question and turned to face where the planet rested. “When I get out of here later, Celestia, I'll show you the error of your ways. All will bow before me!”
Soros watched as a large shadow grew from behind Luna and slowly enveloped her, creating a set of armor. Well, I never thought I'd see something like that in my life, he thought.
“You, however.” Nightmare Moon tapped her chin as she thought. Eventually, a devious grin formed on the mare’s face. “You shall go inform my sister that I've accepted the punishment. We shall catch her off guard, for I will prove to be far stronger than she could ever hope to be!”
Soros smiled and nodded. “You have my word.”
Nightmare Moon summoned a portal and gestured to it. “You shall see what I am capable of tonight!” she proclaimed. “The world shall know my name!”
Soros, once again, nodded and walked through the portal. After another trip through a rainbow-colored dimension, he emerged in a wealthy looking town. Not far ahead was a large and, if Georgie boy had to be honest with himself, beautiful castle.
Almost as beautiful as each and every one of his creations.
“I suspect that this is the place that horse spoke of,” he said to himself. Immediately, he turned away from it and began to walk towards a stationary hot air balloon. “Now we wait for the sparks to fly.” With that, he started up the flame, cut the rope and began to float off towards the land below.
Meanwhile, back on Earth, Jacob Rothschild found himself in a predicament that even he couldn't fathom.
It was quite the achievement really.
“What in the bloody world are you?” asked the Baron with a scowl.
Seated on his minion's favorite chair, and drinking some of the finest wine from the nearby liquor cabinet, was a small, black insect like creature.
“I'm a Changeling, bud,” the horse fly said as it took a sip of the wine, after which it looked Jacob dead in the eye. “My queen sent here as she tried to find a new hive for us. She thought the portal would lead to some place on Equus. Evidently, it did not.”
“I see…” Jacob adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. “Is there any way to get you back?”
“Is there an unused portal here? My queen said she'd make another one that would send me somewhere close to the hive to help me get home.”
The Baron's eyes widened as the Changeling’s words settled in. “Ah shit…” He covered his face with his hands and groaned. “Is there any other way?”
The Changeling took another sip of the wine and thought for a moment. “Do you have a teleporter?”
“Nope.”
“Then you're stuck with me.”
Jacob let out a heavy sigh. He turned his back to the Changeling and began to walk to the door. “I hope George is having better luck than me right now...”
The destabilizer of everything not ashes hurled a newspaper at a wall. “You've got to be kidding me!” he screamed.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie would never kid such an amazing creature!”
George spun around (somehow not throwing out his back in the process) and faced the small blue unicorn that stared up at him proudly. “Listen here, little horse, I'm not paying you to state the obvious!” he snarled. “Now, tell me, how in the holy name of money and profit does ‘friendship’ defeat distrust and manipulation!?”
“Trixie explained that to you when you burned the page with Princess Luna's picture on it,” Trixie deadpanned.
“Fine, how does friendship defeat the Great and Powerful George Soros?”
“Trixie explained that when you ate the page with Celestia's picture.”
“How does friendship even work!?”
“Trixie explained that when you threw the newspaper fifteen times ago…”
George groaned and sat down on a stool. He couldn't believe that he was sharing a carriage with a unicorn, but he didn't care. No, what he did care about was that his ingenious plan to destabilize this ‘Equestria’ was foiled by six nobodies and a bunch of jewelry!
It was preposterous!
And it infuriated the old billionaire. He stood up and looked down at Trixie with a frown. “Tell me, little horse, where are you headed?”
“I'm headed to Ponyville, Mister Soros!” Trixie beamed. She pointed a hoof out a window and towards a small town not too far from them. “I intend on putting on a show for the ages. It'll be terrific!” Trixie's eyes glittered like jewels in light as she envisioned herself being hailed as the greatest magician since the equine counterpart to Harry Houdini.
“That's nice, Trixie,” Soros said as he walked by her. He left the carriage and looked out at the town ahead. “Ponyville, eh?”
Trixie exited the carriage and stood by her companion/boss. “Yes, Mister Soros. Are you headed there too?”
“Tell me, Trixie, are there any horses of note there?”
Trixie tapped her chin and thought. “Well, one of those ponies that stopped Nightmare Moon is Princess Celestia’s prized student!”
Soros rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I'm not wasting my time with students,” he said. “I think I know where my next target is though.”
“Where?” Trixie asked curiously.
“Canterlot.”
Trixie raised an eyebrow. “But didn't you just come from there?”
“Oh, I'm not headed back there,” Soros said with an evil grin. “You're going there for me.”
Trixie's eyes shot open and a worried expression quickly formed on her face as she slowly backed away from the billionaire madman. “Wh-why am I headed there?”
George kneeled down and looked Trixie straight in the eyes. “Because, Trixie, if you don't, your dreams will be shattered,” he whispered. “As will every bone in your body.”
The color from Trixie's face vanished in the blink of an eye and heart sank to the bottom of her chest. “Do… do you have to be so aggressive?” she asked quietly as she forced a sheepish smile onto her face.
“It’s called diplomacy, little one,” Soros replied as he stood back up. “And it seems to me it worked on you.” He turned and looked back down at Trixie. “Right?”
Trixie nodded slowly, never making eye contact with her companion. “Yes, Mister Soros,” she said softly. “Exactly what am I going to do in Canterlot though?”
“You're going to tell the guards that one of the higher ups has gone rogue, at which point you will give one a document which will tell them that Celestia in planning to call for Martial Law,” George said. “This should cause them to attempt a coup d'état.”
Trixie stared blankly up at George as she tried to comprehend what she'd just heard, which was far easier said than done. Sure, she had been called some ridiculous names in the past which made her wish they'd be repeated so she could confirm the insanity of the name. She had also seen some things which result in her being confined to the looney bin (and one of those things was not three feet from her).
This plan however was in a whole nother league of… stupid.
“And what are you going to gain from this exactly?” she asked cautiously, knowing deep down this was a terrible question.
“Power. Money.” George folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”
“It's just that… well, you have no real influence in Equestria, Mister Soros,” Trixie responded sheepishly. “You don't have any businesses, power…”
George stared blankly at the unicorn.
Trixie stared back.
Both knew exactly how this was going to end.
Meanwhile, in a different dimension, a Changeling and Jacob Rothschild were doing something that could only be described as the most monumentally stupid thing to do with an inter-dimensional being.
“So, what you're telling me is that the Illuminati can help me get back home?” the Changeling asked quizzically as he and the Baron of Banks walked down a long, dark hallway. Whatever light there was, it came from a handful of torches set in a line along the cobblestone walls.
“No, I'm saying they might have an idea as to how to get you home,” Jacob replied as he approached a large, stone door with a skull and all-seeing eye on it. “And if they don't have an idea, then I know a few other places that could help you.”
“Like?”
Jacob placed a hand on a stone slab and glanced down at the Changeling. “It's a secret, little bug thing,” he said. After a bit, the door slowly slid open, which revealed a large, dimly lit room. At the center of it was a circular table with a skull in the middle. All around it were an assortment of hellish objects that had been scattered around randomly.
“Excuse the mess, little fellow,” Jacob said as he entered the room. “There was a party here last night and it appears that the janitor was the sacrifice.”
“You guys don't clean up after yourselves?” the Changeling asked with a hint of disgust.
“Would you try to clean up after you've drank, taken hits of of Class A drugs and done other unspeakable acts?”
“You implying that I'd do any of those things?” asked the Changeling indignantly.
“Perhaps.”
The Changeling shook his head. “You're one weird… thing,” he said as he followed Jacob, who seemed all too amused by the Changeling’s disgust. “Tell me though, do you hold these parties often?”
“Only when we aren't pulling the strings on something important,” the Baron of Badness said. “Which is sadly often, which normally means we don't get to have fun.”
“Well, it'd seem our definition of fun is a bit different,” the Changeling said as he passed by a slab of… something. “Or maybe a lot different.”
“What do you do for fun?” Rothschild asked as he approached another stone door. “Play with yo-yos? Fetch?”
“Search for love to feed on and obey my queen,” replied the Changeling proudly. “It's my duty to serve her!”
Jacob chuckled and grinned. “You'd fit right in with the general populous here on Earth,” he said quietly as he placed a hand on another stone slab. After a few seconds, it slid open and revealed a much brighter room.
Primarily because it resembled a laboratory.
“Ah, hello, Mister Rothschild,” said tall, pale man in a lab coat. “Is this the entity you spoke of over the phone earlier?”
“Yes, Johnson, it is,” Jacob answered in monotone. “He was in Mister Soros’s room and appears to have come from another world. We both wish for him to get home, though for different reasons.”
“Yeah, he threatened to make me a sacrifice earlier if I didn't stop drinking his friend's wine.”
Jacob shot the Changeling a glare. “You ever call George and I friend's again and I will rip your head off and use it as a soccer ball!”
The Changeling flinched and took a few steps back. “Yeesh, okay, I won't,” he said. “Just never make that face again. I'm pretty sure you could scare Cerberus with it.”
“Excellent,” Jacob replied, his terrifying glare being replaced with the emotionless stare that he usually sported. “Now, tell me, can you identify where this creature came from?”
Johnson put a hand on his chin. “Well, we have a prototype teleporter that we used to make contact with that freaky tentacle thing over there-” he pointed to a creature that looked like Yog-Sothoth, only with polka dots covering it's body- “but we've got no idea if it'll successfully send something back.”
“Is that all you guys really have?” asked the Changeling with a frown.
“Yep,” Johnson said, slightly insulted by the freak of nature that stood before him.
The Changeling groaned. “So you're telling me we walked all the way here for nothing?”
“Well, unless you wanna end up dead in the vacuum of space, yes, you did,” Johnson said. “However, if you're willing to stay on Earth, we can always use new test subjects!”
“Yeeeah, nope.” The Changeling high-tailed it out of the room without a second thought.
“Figures,” Johnson said as he held back laughter as the audible grunts of the Changeling tripping over unspeakable things in the party room filled the air.
“Welp, I guess I'll go see if the New World Order Headquarters have something,” Jacob said. “Thanks for the help, Johnson.”
“Anytime, boss!”
The Changeling ran up to Jacob's side. “So, where are those headquarters?” he asked curiously as he and the Baron walked back the way they came.
“New York City,” Jacob replied in monotone.
“A city?” The Changeling stopped and tilted his head slightly. “How exactly am I going to not be spotted in such a large area?”
Jacob turned around and let out a laugh that could wake the dead. “You think we're actually going to walk the same streets as the middleman?” he asked sardonically. “Oh how I'd hate to be you…”
“Hey, what's that supposed to mean?” the Changeling asked angrily as he ran back up to Jacob's side.
“We're not walking on the city streets you lesser being,” the Rothschild said. “We're taking a helicopter.”
“A… what?” the Changeling asked, ignoring the Baron's insult.
Jacob stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just… be quiet until we get there you incessant creature.”
“And… there.”
Back on Equestria, George Soros—destroyer of countless lives, countries, hopes and dreams—had just finished making something that he'd normally have a lacky do for him.
A makeshift grave.
He looked down at his suit, which was covered in blood and dirt. With a heavy sigh, he turned around and stared at the cart that had once belonged to his short-time companion.
It too was covered in blood and dirt.
“Maybe I was a bit too harsh…” George tapped his chin and shrugged. “Oh well, doesn't matter now.” He walked over to the cart and poked around inside. Notes, books on magic, and some… more questionable objects that George needed more than just hand sanitizer after touching littered the mobile home.
All things considered, it looked like this world's answer to a trailer home to him, but without the shotguns and six kids running around.
After a bit of rummaging around and several trips to the local stream to clean off substances that would bump this story’s rating up to mature, George found something that wasn't mundane or disgusting.
“The Grand Galloping Gala?” He raised an eyebrow and read over the invitation and description to the event. For the most part, it sounded like a party he and his rich friends would attend, only this event had princesses and his usually had Saudi princes.
Still, regardless of the royal position, the so-called philanthropist pocketed the invitation and smiled. “If the princesses will be there, I can certainly stir something up…” He looked down at his suit and frowned. “Though I doubt they'll approve of this.” George tapped his chin and frowned, realizing what had to be done.
He had to go buy another suit.
In a peasant’s town.
The horror.
Maybe like that Eldritch horror back in the lab, but George knew nothing about that, so he couldn't really compare.
Swearing like a sailor under his breath, and swearing revenge upon several nations, old George made his way towards Ponyville. After a brisk walk that resulted in several strangely looks that the billionaire was used to from dozens of ponies, he arrived at a shop that looked like those places he saw on television that sold clothing.
“Uh… greetings,” George said as he lay eyes on Rarity, who was in the middle of measuring a stallion. “I need a suit as this one got blood on it when I was making a salad.”
Rarity stared blankly at George for a few seconds before she fainted, at which point the stallion ran out of the store screaming.
“Weird, that usually happens after Jacob says who the sacrifice is,” George said to himself as he watched the stallion run off into the distance. He looked back at Rarity and raised an eyebrow. “Actually… she looks kinda famili…” George's eyes (including those things under them) widened as a sudden realization hit him.
A very, very bad realization.
Like, Trey Gowdy indicting him and Hillary Clinton bad.
Okay, maybe not that bad.
“Shit, that's one of those horses that stopped that other horse from the moon.” Soros turned around just in time to see a group of ponies (or FBI agents, it was hard to tell when you're as old as the Tyrannosaurus Rex) running towards him.
Regardless of that, the destabilizer of everything stable was in pique physical condition and, with the speed only an elderly man could achieve, made haste to a direction that didn't have five really pissed off mares in it.
Which naturally meant the way that had a train.
“Stop, George Soros! You're wanted for crimes against Equestria and her people!” Twilight Sparkle shouted, her face red with rage. (And purple with hair)
George didn't respond and continued to run thanks to a combination of having been dozens upon dozens of yards ahead of the five equines before he'd begun to run. Then there was the endless usage of steroids.
Because wealth makes you do stupid things.
Regardless of the things George may or may not have consumed, he eventually reached the train station ahead of his pursuers—who had been in awe at the eighty-six year old man's speed every step of the way.
Especially Rainbow Dash, who was rather indignant that she was beaten by a walking museum exhibit.
George hurled a sack of cash at the ticket teller and ran past him. He forced his way onto the train (no doubt pushing one or two ponies onto the tracks, not that that was anything new for him). Not far behind were the five element bearers, who watched as the train departed because none of them had any bits.
“Dang it!” Applejack snapped, throwing her hat onto the ground. “I knew I shoulda taken a few bits from Granny Smith!” She turned to face the teller and asked, “where's that train headed?”
“Appleloosa,” the teller said, his voice devoid of emotion and, to a degree, robotic.
Applejack's eyes widened as the words escaped the teller's mouth. “Caramel!” she shrieked. “When's the next train arrives that goes there?”
“Four hours.”
Applejack nodded and faced the other four mares. “Girls, we've got to stop that man before he hurts somepony else.”
The five mares collectively nodded, at which point they noticed Rarity, who looked as chipper and glamorous as ever. “Hello, girls,” she said. “What'd I miss?”
“We're headed out west!” Pinkie Pie screamed.
And then Rarity fainted again.
Soros meanwhile took a nap on the train while dozens of ponies stared in terror,
The Changeling and Jacob Rothschild were both seated on a private helicopter made of the highest quality steel and the tears of middle-class families across the globe (the tears were not the highest quality though, cause they are very rare, so you take what you can get). From out the window, he and the awe-struck Changeling could see the high-rise buildings of New York City, each of which only further amazed the latter of the two; his starry-eyed reflection having not the slightest effect on the dead silent Rothschild.
Despite that, for the banker, the flight from a [redacted] location in the United States to the Big Apple had been mostly fine.
“So, do all of your vehicles make this much noise?” the Changeling asked as it turned to face Jacob, a large, almost child-like smile on its face.
Keyword being mostly.
“No, they don't,” Jacob responded, venom filling his every word. “Now, shut your bloody mouth or I'll throw you into the rotary blades!”
“Yeesh, you were much more pleasant before you offered to help me,” the Changeling grumbled. It turned back around and peered back out the window. After a bit, it spotted something off in the distance that wasn't a skyscraper and gasped. “Hey, who's the big green lady?”
“A gift from a country where a good friend of mine lives,” Rothschild said as he resisted to the urge to throw the insectoid equine out of the helicopter. “Macaroni I think is his name.”
The Changeling snickered to himself. “You guys have funny names,” he said as he looked back at the expressionless banker. “Do you all pick names based on what your jobs are like the ponies do on my planet?”
Jacob raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Ponies? Your land has those things too?”
“Well, we have unicorns, pegasi, Minotaurs…”
Jacob shook his head in disbelief. “I hope George hasn't killed himself yet. I need him for when I try to build my bank in North Korea.”
The Changeling tilted his head. “Is that place anything like this place?”
Jacob shook his head again and let out a sinister chuckle. “Sure, little guy. It most certainly is.”
“Are there cool statues?”
Jacob raised his head and glared the Changeling in the eyes. “Ask another question and you'll find out yourself.”
The Changeling sunk down is its seat, opting to remain quiet for the rest of the flight (much to the delight of the Baron of Belligerence). After a short flight, the helicopter landed atop a building that, at first glance, could be taken for any other.
“Sir, we've arrived at the United Nations building.”
“Most excellent, Boris,” Jacob said as the helicopter door opened, revealing two tall men dressed in black suits. They ushered out the Baron and the Changeling, who couldn't have been more clueless as to what the hell the ‘United Nations’ was. (Well, he probably could have, because he figured out that due to its name, it was most likely a group of nations United, but that is not fun to read about, so we [redacted]) Regardless, he followed the men through a door and soon found himself in a building that, if he knew even a fraction of the history that had taken place there, he would've tried to burn it down.
“So, what's the purpose of this place?” the Changeling inquired as he and the three men walked down a long, hallway that had more than a dozen meeting rooms in it. “Do you guys just sit here and talk?”
“Not quite,” one of the men in black suits said, whose name tag simply had the letter L. “Here at the United Nations, we basically help prevent the world from obliterating itself with nuclear weapons.”
“That and we sanction other countries until they tear themselves apart!” the other man said, his name tag bearing the letter E. “Oh, and wait until the last second to intervene during horrific civil wars.” E turned to face L. “Wait, Syria still exists, right?”
L shrugged, at which point the Changeling turned to Jacob and asked, “What happened in Syria?”
“I dunno, want me to book you a flight to there before you go to North Korea?” Jacob asked, his face slowly forming an expression of malice.
“Um… I mean, if it's nice, I guess…”
“Your ignorance is beautiful, little creature,” Jacob said before he and the two men approached a large steel door. Rothschild slid a keycard into something and, after a few seconds, the door opened, revealing a room full of all sorts of high-class weaponry.
“Whoa.” The Changeling looked around at all of the fancy gadgets, gizmos, and Weapons of Mass Destruction. “What are these things?”
“This is where we keep all of the weapons seized from countries that shouldn't have them,” E said. “They're all extremely dangerous and could kill tens of thousands of innocent civilians.”
The Changeling's eyes shrunk. He slowly backed away from one of the chemical weapons and turned to face the trio. “A-and what happens if the countries somehow gets the weapons again?”
Rothschild chuckled. “Then we—or rather, I—just tell the US government that the country in question has oil,” he said with a smirk. “They take care of the rest.”
The Changeling opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short of asking yet another question. “Alrighty then,” he said after keeping his mouth open for a few seconds.
“Excellent,” the Baron said. He clasped his hands together and looked around. “Now, where's that teleportation device?”
“Well, sir, that's the thing…” L pulled a nearby lever, which caused a staircase to appear that went on for several floors. “The UN didn't bother telling us that their armory was nearly as large as Miami Beach.”
Jacob peered down and frowned. “Well, guess I'll have to reschedule my manicure…” He turned and faced the two men and the Changeling, who stared in at the enormous armory. “Let's get to work! I have dinner plans and the last thing I want to do is disappoint Angela Merkel, lest I have to listen to mad ravings of a drunk, German woman and her French marionette.”
The two men (and the Changeling) saluted Rothschild and began the task of a lifetime: searching an armory full of things that would be ranked above top secret.
Thankfully, there weren't any emails amongst the weapons.
The train ride to Appleloosa was, for the most part, uneventful. This was largely thanks to the fact that George Soros spent a majority of it asleep on the floor (a fact which made his back hurt something awful).
Eventually though he found it in himself to get up and take a seat next to a random stallion, at which point he listened to a bunch of random gossip, such as how two horses up north were getting married and something about some holiday called ‘Nightmare Night’ was fast approaching.
It wasn't as fun as when he listens to the conversations that go on inside the White House.
But, that was nearly an hour ago, and George now found himself in the middle of nowhere with a water bottle, a suit with blood stains and other, much more questionable stains, and a sandwich he took from a filly as it had cheese, to which he spit it out after taking a bite of it.
“Ew, it's Swiss cheese!” he whined. Evidently, the Hungarian with enough money to destabilize Ukraine disliked something from a country where he can store untold amounts of money. “Screw it, I'll just eat the bread.” Soros threw the cheese behind him and devoured the bread. He took a moment to admire his surroundings as he chewed, only to realize a slightly… bad detail.
He was in a desert. A very, very large desert.
“Uh… where am I?” he wondered aloud as he scanned his surroundings, a baffled look on his wrinkled face. “Is this Iraq?”
A deafening silence filled the air. For as far as the Destroyer of Lives could see, the land held nothing.
So, much like Iraq.
“Ah shit,” he grumbled to himself angrily. Although he didn't want to admit it, George had realized that he was lost in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. With a huff, he set off in a random direction. That didn't have footprints.
“Unbelievable. Those stupid horses and their sunshine princess have somehow gotten me lost,” the billionaire bemoaned. For the next several agonizing minutes, and with an endless amount of whining, Soros trudged through the sand, dirt, and whatever else one would find in the desert (or pre-Gulf War Iraq).
Eventually though, Georgie encountered something that wasn't beneath his foot (literally). Up ahead in the distance, just over the horizon of yet even more sand, was what appeared to be civilization!
A smile of sorts grew on George's face. Not because he was happy to see a place that could provide shelter, but because he was bored shitless and really wanted to cause some sort of chaos.
Somewhere far away, stone had begun to chip.
Regardless of that, George ran towards the peculiar looking town. From afar, it looked as though every building had the architecture of the Kremlin, only the roofs didn't appear smooth. Rather, they looked more patched on. As George got closer though, he realized the place he'd come across was most definitely not Russian.
“Halt, outsider!” A Changeling leaped down from atop a large wall that even Donald Trump would be proud of. It landed with a loud this and aimed a spear at George, who raised his hands, a look of terror on his face (not the least of which was caused by the dozens of others Changelings that were glaring down at him from atop the wall). “This is a Changeling hive and you most certainly don't look like a Changeling to me!”
“Well, aren't you guys just the most xenophobic horses,” George said as he backed away from the bug-horse. “Glad to know that I'm as welcome here as I was back in Ponyville.”
The Changeling drew his spear back and tilted his head. “Wait, you've come from Ponyville?”
George nodded, feeling rather relieved that he was no longer on the receiving end of something that wasn't money. “Yes, I came from there because I was driven out over some nonsense,” he said casually. “They apparently think that I, an elderly man, caused Celest… uh, the sun horse princess’s sister to go insane.”
The Changeling looked back up at the other drones, each of which shrugged. “Well, I'm the captain of the Changeling army here and, as it's my duty to protect the hive from any outsiders, I must request that you come with me to see our queen.”
George's eyes shot open. Before he could react, he found himself enveloped in a green aura and, against his will, he was dragged on the ground. “You bastards are worse than Putin's thugs!”
“Is that a compliment?” the captain asked.
“Depends on who you are,” George asked as his head struck a small rock.
The captain turned around and looked down at his prisoner. “What would you say it is?”
“I'd rather not say anything as dying at the hooves of magical bug equines isn't on my bucket list,” Soros responded indignantly. “Just know you've caused me much grief and you make me want to cry.”
“Well, I better tell my queen about this!” the captain said cheerfully as he resumed walking. He trotted happily through a cave and said, “Maybe I'll even get a promotion!”
“If you don't get a promotion for capturing me, I'd be even more insulted than I already am,” George growled. “This suit was made by Giorgio Armani and now it looks like it's been handled by a pack of wild dogs!”
The Changeling ignored the senile old man and continued towards the throne room. Eventually, he reached it and tossed George to the center of the room. “Your highness!” the captain said proudly. “This mysterious creature found its way to our wall and supposedly has come from Ponyville!”
Chrysalis looked down at George, who looked up at the Changeling queen unhappily. “Is this true?” the queen asked after a few seconds. “Have you come from that love infested land?”
George thought for a few moments before saying, “Yes, I have. I fled when they falsely accused me of corrupting their princess's sister. Me, a poor old man.” He wearily made his way closer to Chrysalis, who ordered the guards to stand down. “However, you mention that place is full of love?”
Chrysalis nodded. “It is what my Changelings consume to survive,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
George Soros approached the queen and smirked. “I have a proposition for you,” he said. “You and your Changelings overthrow the two wretches who have disgraced my name I will ensure that you and your Changelings have enough love for millennia.”
Chrysalis looked down at Soros skeptically. She folded her forelegs and asked, “Exactly how can you do that? I thought you were but a weary old man.”
George chuckled. “Now, now, your highness,” he said with a look of malice in his eyes. “Even weary old men have their secrets.”
“Alright,” Chrysalis said, still unsure if the man in front of her was an escapee from a mental institution or the world's worst spy. “How do you propose we overthrow Celestia and Luna?”
George thought for a moment. “Well… when I was on a train, I heard a few horses discussing the wedding of a princess,” he said. “Perhaps you could send an assassin there?”
Chrysalis's eyes lit up with delight. “That's perfect!” she said. “We shall disguise ourselves as guards and I as the bride!”
“Wait… you'll what?”
Chrysalis approached George and transformed herself into the Destabilizer of Anything and Everything. “We Changelings can become anyone and everyone, silly… thing.”
George took a step back, a frightened look on his face. That or he was taken aback by how good looking he was. Regardless, he eventually calmed down and nodded in approval at the queen's plan. “So, when shall you invade?”
“Very soon,” Chrysalis answered. “First, I must plan and train my drones.” She turned to face George and smiled. “You, meanwhile, will give me every bit of information you have.”
George frowned. “And if I don't?”
“I'll reduce you to ash.”
The billionaire sighed. “Fine,” he said as he took a seat on the ground. “So, first up…”
An insurmountable amount of time had past since Jacob, the Changeling, E and L had started searching through the UN’s stockpile of world ending weapons.
“Anything on floor seventy six?” L shouted up to the other three as he placed a pulse rifle back onto a rack.
“No, but I found a pretzel!” the Changeling said cheerfully. “Why's it attached to an arm though?”
Jacob snatched the item away from the bug-horse and threw it down to… someplace. “That was a Nazi Cyborg Arm you imbecile,” he snarled. “It should be in Antarctica, not in New York City!” He threw the arm behind him and continued to look along the shelves until his eyes landed on a peculiar looking rifle. “Finally!”
E and L looked to see the Baron holding something high into the air. Immediately, both men knew what it was. As quick as lightning, they ran to their boss man, both strangely ecstatic to see the gun which, at first glance, looked like nothing more than a relic of World War II.
“You sure this will work?” Jacob asked as he aimed it at the Changeling. “Last I heard, this has the same chance of working as Donald Trump had at becoming president…”
“Yeah, but that ended up working right?” L asked with a half-smile. “C'mon, just shoot the little guy and we can get back to working on ousting Vladimir Putin.” He turned to his partner and asked, “That's what we're currently working on, right?”
The Changeling shook as he stared down the barrel of the firearm. He gulped and, hesitantly, asked, “W-wait, can we just test it on something before we, uh, try it on me?”
Jacob waited a few seconds before he slowly lowered the gun. With a heavy sigh, he nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like a smart idea,” he said calmly. He turned to E and L and gestured to a nearby steel door. “Get to the testing chambers and set up the target dummies.”
The two men saluted Jacob and hastily made their way towards the door, much to the Baron's delight.
“Hey, I appreciate you not shooting me,” the Changeling said after the two men had exited the room entirely. “I'm glad that you like me enough to-”
Jacob turned around and glared down at the Changeling, which caused him to stop mid-sentence. “I didn't do it because we’re friends, bug-horse,” the Baron growled. “I just didn't want the thing to potentially backfire and end up leaving me in some desolate part of the world with your freakish ass. That's why I'm going to use those two imbeciles as guinea pigs.” He stood up and motioned for the Changeling to follow him.
Hesitantly, the Changeling followed Jacob through the door and down a long, dreary corridor. Eventually, they arrived at a chamber that had two test dummies made of plywood and nothing else.
“Okay, Mister Rothschild, we’ve set up the targets for you,” E said proudly.
“Wonderful.” Jacob raised the rifle and aimed it at one of the dummies. After a few seconds, he quickly shifted to face the two men and fired off two quick shots at them, striking both in the chest and reducing them to ashes.
The Changeling stared at the ashes, his mouth agape. “I… guess it doesn't work?” he asked softly.
“Guess not,” Jacob said as he tossed aside the gun. “Now I regret not using it on you.” With that, he made his way to the doorway. “C'mon,” he yelled to the Changeling. “This globalist sanctuary has less for us than the average blue collar worker.”
The Changeling turned around and ran up to Rothschild's side. “If that's the case, where are we headed?”
“A place I'd rather not go to.” Jacob grimaced at the mere thought of where he and his buggy companion were headed to next. It was a place that even the overlord of globalism couldn't bear to think about.
Not after last year.
“Uh, Jacob? Are you okay?” the Changeling asked with a concerned look. “You've been standing there for five minutes now… are you dead?”
Jacob shook his head. “No, I'm fine,” he said in a strangely soft voice. “C'mon, we've gotta go to Europe… sadly.”
Despite less than a day having past on Earth, it had been weeks on Equus. And in those weeks, Soros had given all he knew about Ponyville and her people to Chrysalis; about how they loathed the Changelings and their way of life. About how they wished to bury them all without firing off a single shot.
Unsurprisingly, Chrysalis had come to resent the ponies more than anything else. Her drones had been training around the clock. Others had been taking the forms of Canterlot guards as she and Soros has planned out an all-out invasion of the royal city on account of a wedding between two horses.
Chrysalis herself had demoted herself to the role of princess, a fact that made her feel dead on the inside.
Then, the big day came. The day in which all of that finally paid off in a nightmarish battle—one which would go down as a dark moment in Changeling history.
Hundreds of Changelings injured at the hooves of a purple unicorn and her five friends! Some even dead.
It was pure chaos. The likes of which one could only dream of after watching a Michael Bay movie.
However, for George Soros, it was the norm. Only, he wasn't on the winning side like normal.
Instead, he was staring at the battered and bruised queen of the Changelings; her normally sternly expression replaced with one of extreme anger.
Nowhere near as angry as the man who sat on her throne though.
Soros hurled the chalice across the room and stood up, looming over Chrysalis. “What do you mean you were defeated by a unicorn!?” he screamed, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
“I mean she and her babysitter kicked out flanks!”
Soros threw his arms into the air, turning away from the queen. “Oh, for the love of everything profitable!” he said. “You're more worthless than the fucking French!”
“The who?” Chrysalis asked, confused.
Soros turned back to face Chrysalis. “It matters not, you worthless bug!” he snapped. “You and your kind have failed me! Despite months of planning and training, you good-for-nothing freaks couldn't do something as simple as overthrow a primitive kingdom!”
With a ghastly green glow, Chrysalis pushed Soros up against a wall, the sole single guard in the room matching up to her side as she approached the decrepit old billionaire. “You dare speak to me like that?” she hissed. “Have you forgotten who's queen around here!?”
“And have you forgotten who has information that could reshape your entire kingdom?” Soros inquired with a smarmy grin. He patted Chrysalis on the cheek and chuckled. “Of course you do. So, let me down and I won't have my friends blow your entire empire up six ways from Sunday.”
Gritting her teeth, Chrysalis released the billionaire. “Fine, you no-good rat,” she snarled. “Though, do tell, what's Plan B now that we've had our flanks handed to us on a silver platter?”
Soros raised an eyebrow at the queen. “Plan B? You really think I have a use for failures like yourselves?”
Chrysalis stared blankly at George for a several seconds in shock as the words that had exited his mouth echoed in her head. Finally, she snapped out of her stupor. “I am not a failure!” She leaped atop the aging old rat and pinned him to the ground, her eyes filled with rage.
For the first time in his entire life, George felt powerless and hopeless. In the blink of an eye, the freakish bug-equine had gone from a mere pawn in his plan to establish a New World Order to something that he could easily mistake for one of Vladimir Putin's pet horses.
Only with magic.
Still, he knew that this false queen could be manipulated. So, with a confident smirk, he got to work. “Are you sure you want to do this, your majesty?”
“What do you mean?” Chrysalis asked angrily.
“Don't you remember what I said moments ago?”
“You're little more than a charlatan, George,” she growled. “Do you honestly think you're the first rat to threaten me with destruction?”
George chuckled. “Let me up and I'll show you that I don't lie, your majesty.”
Reluctantly, Chrysalis for off of Soros helped him up, at which point he gestured her over to the throne. He sat down on it and took out his phone and turned it on. After a few moments, he pulled up a folder that contained an insurmountable number of images.
“These are some of my favorite creations,” George said as he tapped a finger on one of the pictures. “Here's one I think you may like.”
Chrysalis levitated the phone over. On the screen was an image of numerous people rioting in the streets. Vehicles and other objects were on fire. Ahead of the large crowd was what looked like a barricade with shields in front of it.
Soros leaned over and tapped an arrow on the screen, which made an image of several dozen troops training come up.
“Had that bastard Trump not won, I could've sent them to overthrow that bastard Vladimir,” Soros said with an unnerving smile. “Alas, not everything in life is easy.” He tapped on the screen, which made an image of a several battleships out at sea come up.
Then an image of beautiful city with a large structure towering over it, which was immediately followed by the same one that looked like a mere shell of its former self; the large structure surrounded by an ugly wall.
Several more images followed; each showing a city in ruins, and each in worse condition than the last.
By the last one, it resembled something that looked as though it had been all but abandoned, had it not been for the grieving people out in the streets mourning over the lifeless husks that lay on it.
Chrysalis stared in horror as Soros leaned over and took his phone back. “That's small fry though,” he said as he pulled up a video. “Here. My magnum opus.”
Chrysalis took the phone back. Immediately, her eyes widened.
A video had begun to play. It showed a city in ruins. A seemingly endless amount of explosions going off and the sounds of jets flying over, only for another series of explosions to follow suit. Images that one would imagine could only be seen in dreams or in movies about historical wars flashed on the screen as the cries of innocents emitted from the phone.
It was chaos in its purest form.
“What are you trying to get at?” Chrysalis asked quietly as a tear rolled down her face.
Soros took his phone back and turned Chrysalis's head so she faced the now smiling billionaire. “Do you still take me for a charlatan, your majesty?”
Chrysalis grit her teeth as her horn began to glow a vibrant green. “No, but I do take you for a monster.”
Soros let out a laugh and patted Chrysalis on the head. “You're too kind.”
Without a word, the queen of the Changelings fired off a beam of energy, which enveloped Soros and, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
“Where'd he go, your majesty?” asked the sole single guard who'd been watching the entire time in awe.
Chrysalis let out a heavy sigh and turned to face the guard. “Somewhere up north,” she said, exhausted. “Now, go get me some wine and bread.”
The guard saluted his queen and ran out of the throne room.
Chrysalis, meanwhile, fell onto her throne and looked up at the ceiling, the images from before still clear as day in her mind. “How can someone be so… cruel?”
