Infinity's Edge

Chapters

From Old High to New Low
Rage and Hope, in Their Measure
...To Set Plans in Motion
Echoes of a Fallen Shadow
Preparations, Plans, and Traps
An Uninvited Guest in an Unusual Land
Change Comes on Tattered Wings...

From Old High to New Low

ADA's voice brought me back to wakefulness once more.

"Why is this happening to me...?" I groaned. Opening my eyes and looking to one side, I spotted where I had dropped the too-yellow gold coin. It was thick, and I could see, on one side, the embossed image of an emerald-like gem. It once again impressed upon me just what had happened yesterday, assuming it was, in fact, a new day.

ADA suggested, obviously trying to help.

"Everything is the problem, ADA. I'm in a suit of unfamiliar armor talking to an AI from a game while stranded in an unfamiliar world, with the better part of my body having been turned into something other than what I was born with, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with all this. I didn't ask for it all to happen." I paused. "Ok, well, I kinda did... I was getting fed up with Earth, to be honest, especially since there was nothing interesting for me to do, and the geopolitical climate was only getting more annoying by the day. I'd kinda wanted something to break up the monotony, but... I wasn't looking for anything like this."

"Don't even. I don't operate the same as other, normal folks: I have ADHD, which means I process things differently from everyone else. And this whole thing is... it's overwhelming. Which means that, if I'm going to be stuck here for any length of time, I'm going to need time. Time to adjust, time to--" I abruptly sat bolt upright. "TRAINING BEGINS NOW...!" I declared, almost nonsensically, then chuckled at my own joke.

"It was a quote, from a thing." I waved my hand dismissively, then began disentangling myself from my sleeping bag. "Don't get me wrong, I'm still upset about it all, but I'm gonna need to find food if I'm gonna be stuck here, and possibly find another place to crash."

"There's a dead dragon in here," I said, already having left the tent and begun stretching. "Dead things start to smell pretty bad real quick, and I'd rather not have to deal with that."

"NO." I was very forceful with the word, to get my point across. "For one, it'd be sorta disrespectful to do that. Not that leaving her as she is would be much better, but it's still more natural. Secondly, ew...! I'm not gonna let my hammerspace -- what you call my 'personal claudication' -- get all corpse-y, even if everything is stored separately." By now, I had started pulling my sleeping bag and the cloak out of the tent, intending to roll up and store the former, and perhaps put on the latter.

I paused, blinking a couple times. "Actually, I kinda forgot I could do that..."

Dropping the sleeping bag, I planted my hands on my hips in as businesslike a manner as I could. "ADA," I said, "one thing you're gonna have to learn about me is that I'm rather absent-minded. I can get distracted by something for five seconds, and completely forget what I was doing or thinking about. I can get so lost in thought that I start wandering around on autopilot, and not realize that I'm doing it for several seconds at least. Also, the whole hammerspace thing is something I'm not used to; you spend your life living without such an ability, and you get used to a certain way of thinking about how you carry stuff." I bent over, grabbed the sleeping bag, and began rolling it up again.

I looked at the sleeping bag in my hands, now with its elastic bands holding it in a form optimal for storage. "What, I can't just roll up my sleeping bag if I feel like it?" I asked, tossing it back into the tent and grabbing the cloak. Slinging it over my shoulder, I zipped up the tent and used the cloak to make it vanish. After a quick double check of the cavern to ensure nothing interesting was left behind, I turned to looking about the cave. There really wasn't much left that I hadn't already stowed in my hammerspace prior to resting... save for the large, saurian corpse.

Y'know, it'd be a shame to just leave her here like this... I thought to myself, I should at least give her some kind of send-off, asshole though she was.

"Hey, weird question... There wouldn't happen to be anything flammable in the stuff I picked up earlier, would there?"

Silence.

"ADA...?"

"That was addressed to y--"

"Oh, that's... thoughtful of you. Sorry."

"I wanna cremate the body. Dunno why, I just do. Yeah, she tried to do God-knows-what to me, but she still sorta deserves a send-off."

While ADA was weighing options, I went to investigate the corpse of... what was her name again? Gil-something? Eh, didn't matter, really. Honestly, the body wasn't too bad, really. The place where I'd severed her head from her neck had been cauterized, so there was no real amount of blood or gore-related mess left behind. There was, however, a pool of some mostly-dried waxy substance around the severed neck, but I wasn't about to investigate too much further.

"Thanks ADA, I'll take the lot."

"I said I was gonna burn the body. I never said anything about putting much thought into how." I began spreading supplies of the proffered substances as liberally as possible, hoping to get this done quickly. "Honestly, when it comes to burning shit, more is usually better. Just make sure we save at least a little bit of each: I wanna see if any of it's valuable in the local shops sometime later."

"There, done! I think... Hey, d'you know if dragon corpses are actually crematable? If I remember correctly, some varieties are immune to lava, especially the fire-types, so... Eh, too late to turn back now. Ignition!"

With that, I drew my handy lightsaber and, using the plasma-y blade, touched off the corpse. Of course, it was only after I'd done so that I remebered yesterday's doubts as to it ever working again. The materials in which I'd doused the body were quick to catch fire, spreading all over the body in an array of colors and throwing up a fair bit of smoke. To be honest, it was probably time I left the cave, unless I wanted to suffocate.

Upon stepping outside, I was once again greeted by the sight of the less-than-hospitable forest around the mountainous spire, as well as the distant small town.

I should probably get going before the smoke from the "cremation" catches anyone's attention down there, I decided, I mean, I know I told ADA that I intended to sell stuff later, but I don't wanna be here when the inevitable investigation party comes asking questions; I'm not sure I just wanna walk into town so soon without a fallback plan for a place to stay, either. I doubt they'd take kindly to strangers wandering out of the forest wearing full armor and a cloak, regardless of how draconic they are.

KWH-BAMPH...!

I was almost thrown off the mountainside by the unexpected explosion from inside the cavern, and I was left coughing in the resultant outpouring of smoke. As I did my best to step out into clearer air, aided by ADA, I reflected upon the idea that maybe I could've been a bit less liberal with the flammable substances, then sat down and leaned against the rock face.

ADA told me, her voice urgent. As I sat up to look in the general direction she'd indicated, I saw three shapes hovering in the air above the forest, roughly between my position and the distant town beyond the forest (which I refused to acknowledge as Ponyville, despite all nagging feelings to the contrary). I had just enough time to shoot to my feet before my brain recognized the entities as being multicolored and roughly pegasoid, putting even more holes in my already failing conviction.

"Oh, come on, I just can't get a break, can I...?" I asked, not looking for an answer. I really needed to get gone, before I could be found by the locals. And the quickest way out was to leave the mountain by air, which I wasn't entirely sure I could do: I wasn't entirely in control of my new-ish wings, but I didn't exactly have time to try them out before I made this next move...

"It's time for me to take a crash course..." I said, cutting ADA off as I leapt off the far end of the ledge, "in falling with style. Let's hope it won't be our last...!"

I turned myself to a rough approximation of a dive as the lower half of my visor snapped over my face, feeling my cloak billowing in the wind while my fledgling wings flapped ineffectually against the air. I was moving away from the mountainside enough to keep myself from crashing into anything, but only barely; I was still "falling" more than "gliding".

OK, this is definitely not the time for a Hiccup-and-Toothless test flight moment...! I thought to myself, then did what I could to reach behind myself, grab my wings, and try to support them against the air through which I was falling. The result was nigh-instantaneous: they snapped to their full extension, and I almost screamed aloud from the strain that came from cupping the air at such a speed. My descent slowed abruptly, crudely converting my vertical airspeed into horizontal thrust.

Fighting through the slightly-fading pain, I tried to angle myself forward and down-ish, aiming for the distinct landmark of the ruined castle in the near distance. Less than a minute of improvised, panic-fueled aerobatics later, and I was briefly tangled in the unfriendly embrace of a tall tree. Seconds later, I fell, hitting several branches on the way down. I was lucky nothing broke when I finally hit the dirt, though I hurt all over.

ADA told me.

My response was a simple, pitiful groan, though even I had to admit, battered and abused as I was physically, she was right. So, with what seemed an almost Herculean effort I slowly got up and, with a bit of guidance, stumbled off towards the castle once more.

~~~~
(Sometime later...)

I finally reached the ruins, covered in twigs, dirt, bits of vine, and other forest debris, and I was ready to crash. "Fuck this whole place in particular," I said, as I began searching the gorge around the ruins for a bridge that was still intact enough for me to try crossing. Fortunately, I found one a little way away. "All it's brought me is nothing but trouble."

"Wh-- no, not the ruins: I meant Equestria in general, which is where I'm pretty sure we are right now."

"Course not. Not exactly a fan of the place, myself," I said, and then kicked at a small patch of stupid-looking blue flowers. "Then again, if we -- or, rather, I, -- am in Equestria, that means we're in the Everfree Forest, those so-called 'ruins' are what remains of the Castle of Two Sisters, and that town we saw is likely Ponyville."

"Remember those things that chased us at the cave? They looked a lot like what my people call 'pegasi', and the body proportions I think I saw belong to a version of the species that I'm pretty sure is native only to the world of Equestria."

"I'm not fond of the show from which the concept of the place originated," I replied, glaring at nothing as I walked. "That doesn't mean I can't have a soft spot for the villains of the show, purely because they consistently and repeatedly manage to fuck up the central characters' oh-so-perfect lives. Speaking of which..." I turned and looked back at the now-distant patch of flowers I'd kicked. "I hope to God those weren't Poison Joke, because if they were, things're gonna get weird pretty soon."

ADA asked.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts as I crossed the bridge I'd spotted earlier. "Well, the effects are rather diverse and, as far as I know, hardly documented. The only common factor is that the folks who've come into contact with the plant succumb to effects that could be construed as 'prank-like,' at best. As for the timing... It doesn't take hold immediately, manifesting instead some undisclosed amount time later."

The conversation continued between the two of us as I ventured across the bridge -- which, thankfully, didn't decide to collapse on me, -- and onwards into the ruins once more.

As I got closer to the broken-down former castle, I could better appreciate just how big the place had been before the Sisters' falling-out. Even partially leveled and age-weathered as it was, it was a magnificent sight to behold. Not that I had the time to stand around rubbernecking, of course; I needed to keep moving, and so I did.

"So," I said as I pushed through the overlarge front doors, "about that matter-energy stuff you were telling me about earlier. What's up with that?"

"What... are you saying, here?" I asked, hesitantly. I was fairly certain what ADA was getting at, but I wanted to hear her confirm my suspicions before springboarding off of them to a possibly fatal conclusion. "Put it in layman's terms for me: a simple analogy should do."

ADA sighed, which I believed was a first.

"Wait, how'd you know about the Arcanical energy stuff? That's not even Ingress related...!"

"And yet, you still had me define 'weird' for you."

"That's... disturbing." I said, and paused momentarily to run the conversation back a bit. "So you're basically telling me there's literally magic in the air."

"And that magic's essentially what you 'filled' those energy capacitors or whatever with--"

ADA supplied, momentarily distracting me.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. And you used some of this stuff to reform some of this armor I've got on me, yeah?"

I gave an amused snort. "Ah. And... would it be possible for me to learn this power too...?" I paused a moment after that, musing on how close I'd come to quoting a younger Anakin...

ADA replied, her voice cheerfully cryptic. I grinned widely.

"Oh, you and I are gonna get along just fine," I said, then paused to survey what looked like a long-disused library. I'd have to investigate that later, after I'd possibly set up camp.

"Har har. But seriously though, you made artificial 'constructs' outta this stuff, yeah?"

"And you said it's sorta similar to various fictional things, including XM from Ingress, where you're from, right? At least, I assume you're the same ADA from Ingress..."

"Well, if you can make 'constructs' like armor, and it's like XM, couldn't you recreate other XM constructs from Ingress...?" ADA didn't reply. "ADA...? You still with me?"

Her voice was... distracted, to say the least.

"Awesome. That's something we'll have to figure out later, then..." I replied, now looking up a staircase. I wasn't entirely confident I should use them though: the supports looked questionable at best. "Of course, d'you think it'd be possible for me to learn how to do that stuff too? In addition to the armor-manipulation, I mean?"

"Well, I may not always be able to call on you in drastic situations, be it for timing reasons, or issues of stealth. As such, it'd be prudent for me to have some independent control over this stuff. Also, we could tag-team or something in a pinch, with you on defense, and me on offense."

"Sweet, thanks."

And so, I continued exploring the castle, looking for a decent place to crash. Fortunately, ADA was kind enough to throw up an impromptu map of the areas I'd explored, so I didn't get lost.

As I progressed, I made my way deeper and deeper into the bowels of the ruins, being wary of possible traps. Yes, as un-fond as I was of Equestria and its inhabitants, I'd seen an episode or two of "Friendship is Magic," including where the central characters had explored this very castle and subsequently fallen victim to various pratfalls scattered throughout. The whole thing was pretty much staple of the "abandoned ruins" concept across fiction, so it wasn't too hard to anticipate most of what I came across. That said, ADA saved my bacon on more than one occasion when I did the real-world equivalent of failing a perception check.

"Seriously...!" I exclaimed, after narrowly avoiding one such inconvenience, "why are these things even here? Did they, like, install them after the castle was abandoned? Or did they just live with the constant threat of death from day one of the castle's existence?! None of this makes sense!"

"Oh, hush. Let's check that dungeon cell over there: I've got a good feeling about it."

"Har har. Now, let's see what--"

A burst of green light sent me flying backwards into the bars of a nearby cell, which rang with the impact as I slid to the floor.

"Well, well, what have we here...?" A buzzy and unfamiliar voice mused. "Bad luck for you, it seems. Can't have you running off and telling ponies I'm here, now, can I? Guess I'll just have to kill you instead..."

I looked up I to a face that I vaguely recognized, though only by race. "B-bug...!" I stuttered, still half dazed from the impact. The being before me, of course, wasn't a giant bug, though there were several insectoid qualities to its otherwise equine silhouette. In short, it was undoubtedly a Changeling, with mostly-black chitinous flesh and all the other usual accoutrements.

"Yes, yes, thank you for that overused racial slur," the Changeling said, voice dripping with disdain. "Now, die."

I hardly had to be told. By the time the next blast came, I had already rolled to one side, somehow using the ensuing momentum to bring myself to my feet. As I did, I found the weight of a sword in my hand. It was light, even for the ones I'd brought with me, which I found unusual. See, despite what you might see on TV, most normal swords aren't much more than two or three pounds, with even the biggest "normal" swords barely cracking the five-pound mark. As such, they don't take much muscle to hold or lift, though being able to swing one around for minutes (or even hours) on end is a different story.

By now, I was moving practically without thought, leaping over a third blast and preparing to bring the blade down on my aggressor. Unfortunately, I never connected. Both the blade and my hand were seized midair and yanked backwards, slamming me to another wall. The blade dissolved into green light, and vanished. Goddamn magic, being all unpredictable and shit.

"A fighter, eh?" The Changeling asked. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know anything about a dragon hereabouts, would you? I mean, aside from yourself."

"Well, there was this one bitch in a cave up on a spire nearby," I replied, almost casually. "With 'was' being the operative word in that sentence."

"Was...? What happened?"

"Blew her the fuck up, that's what happened...!" I proclaimed. "She went out like the total bitch she was, too, in the end."

The Changeling squinted at me, though I couldn't read the exact reason: I wasn't the best at judging human facial expressions, so equine ones, similar though they were, had their own language that I couldn't quite get. "You didn't happen to catch her name, did you? Or what she was doing...?"

"Uh..."

ADA supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, thank you," I replied, momentarily glancing to one side as I spoke, then turned back to the Changeling. "It was Gilraea, and I think she was doing some weird pseudo-science stuff. Something about potions, or whatever? She kinda mutated me into what you see now, so, she must've done something at least partially right."

"You... Gilraea?" The small figure asked, taking a few steps backwards. "No, no, that... you can't've."

"And yet--"

A blast of green energy slammed me into the wall again, jarring me more than I expected. As I looked up, trying to keep an eye on the Changeling, I found myself being hoisted in a field of green-ish energy, which matched the smaller field surrounding the wickedly-curved horn on the Changeling's head.

"You know what I think...?" They asked, obviously not looking for me to answer. "I think you're faking. Probing us for information, after seeing her lodgings blow for whatever reason. Why are you here though? Looking for more information to pass to your master, Celestia? We know she has at least one dragon working with her precious ponies: who's to say you're not working for her, too? Talk, spy...!"

"Wow, paranoid much?" I asked. I was pretty sure, just from that little rant, that this bug was irrevocably convinced of his own conclusions. I still had to find a way out of this if I wanted to survive, though. "Seriously, I'm not a dragon. Or, I wasn't, originally. She turned me into this, I tell you. I used to be something called a 'Human', but now I'm about 90 percent dragon--"

<91 percent.>

"91, yes, thank you. Seriously though, flip up my visor, you'll see just how serious I am--"

"I can see your lower jaw just fine -- yeah, it's freaky, I get it -- but who the heck were you just talking to?"

"Literally a voice in my head. No idea where she came from, but I call her ADA."

Seriously, I thought, hoping ADA would hear me, if this guy tried to blast me again, a shield would be nice...!

"A likely story, spy," the Changeling said, sarcasm obvious in his voice. "Fine. If you won't tell me the truth willingly, we have ways of making Ponies talk."

"Good thing I'm not a pony..."

The words slipped out before I had a chance to realize what I was saying, and it earned me another slam against the wall.

"That's it, I'm taking you to be interrogated. And to make sure your troublesome mouth stays shut..."

My mouth was forced open, and a chunk of rock was less-than-gently inserted, leaving me unable to do much more than give the guy dirty looks. It wasn't exactly the nicest-tasting rock, either.

ADA absently noted.

Like what...? I thought, still not entirely sure she could "hear" me doing so. I'm almost literally tied up here: there's nothing I can do. I was being towed through the air by the Changeling by this time, who was making his way back into the cell from whence he'd appeared.

ADA admitted, though she seemed very reluctant to tell me this.

There was a flash of green light as my captor activated some sort of arcane-looking circular array thingy on the floor, and after a few seconds of enduring a dazzling lightshow, we were all suddenly somewhere else. Somewhere bad.

To be honest, I was officially willing to accept that I was presently in Equestria, on whatever planet the land (Country? Continent?) was part of; I'd seen more than enough evidence to throw all possible arguments out the window. That said, in contradiction to the downplayed explanation I'd given ADA, I'd looked far enough into the MLP franchise for me to be able to recognize my current surroundings.

I was smack-dab in the middle of some sort of Changeling hive.

The place wasn't well-lit, but it didn't have to be for me to tell that the place was literally buzzing with activity. As I was subsequently dragged through the air behind my captor, I caught some decidedly unhappy muttering from other Changelings we passed. From the gist of it, I was pretty sure it was directed at my "host," and not at myself, though I wasn't exactly sure why.

As we moved into deeper and darker tunnels, I could've sworn I saw strange creatures moving just out of sight, which definitely didn't look like standard Changelings. I wasn't entirely certain, though, so I did my best to put it from my mind.

ADA asked, providing a welcome distraction.

Uh... What was that thing you were telling me about a minute ago? I replied silently. Whatever it is, it's probably better than nothing, so tell me about it.

I don't care about risks: can you do it?

I was wordless for a few seconds, considering my options. I had no idea what having access to the armor's reserves would do for me, but if ADA suggested it would help, then I had to take the chance.

Do it then. If you think it'll help, somehow, then do what you can.

Thanks, ADA. If you're of a mind to report the progress at all, go ahead and throw up a progress bar on my HUD with a percentage counter or something: I may need to focus on my surroundings here shortly.

Yeah, don't be afraid to speak up then, friend, I reassured her, and turned back to watching my surroundings float by. Honestly, if this soul-binding thing was anything like the enchantment of the same name from Minecraft, did that mean the armor would somehow come with me if I died...? I could only hope it wouldn't come to that...

My musings fell short as my captor and I entered a large chamber, one much grander than the one in which we'd arrived. Somewhere left of direct line-of-sight from the door and a fair bit beyond the room's center, there rested a less-than-pleasant-looking throne upon a slight dais. Upon this throne, which felt strangely familiar to me, there sat an armored bipedal figure of tall, slender, and effeminate features; her eyes closed, her wicked fingers steepled before her breast, and her breathing slow, she could almost have been asleep... save for the fact that one eye opened lazily as we approached, followed by the raising of an eyebrow.

I wasn't exactly sure, because of the lighting, but she seemed to be wearing some sort of full body-armor that looked dark, organic, insectoid, and vaguely unpleasant in strange ways. Well, either it was armor, or part of her body... after all, the Changelings I'd seen on the way weren't wearing anything that I could see, though I'd never caught a glimpse of Chrysalis herself, thank the gods. That said, this figure bore ratty, dark-teal hair like Chrysalis, and she had a cruel horn protruding from her dark forehead with Swiss-cheese holes through it like Chrysalis. But, all in all, she looked more like Roodaka (a Vortixx from the old Bionicle franchise) than Chrysalis...

"Why do you disturb me with this intrusion into my private sanctum...?" The voice of the being, buzzy and multi-tonal as it may have been, was just as disturbingly familiar as she whom it belonged to. Before I had time to contemplate where I might have seen her before, I was roughly tossed to the ground by my captor and then pinned in a splayed position by his power. "Did I not order you to investigate Gilraea's status a mere few minutes ago? Why have you returned so quickly?"

"I come, bringing something of interest, my queen," he replied, dipping his head. "I found this miserable wretch wandering the bowels of the old castle ruins in the woods near Gilraea's cave."

"I'm well familiar with them. What of it?" The Queen snapped.

"Well, he claims that he, and I quote, blew her the fuck up, endquote." He reported, ears drooping, but he quickly continued. "Unfortunately, it seems a team of local pegasi from the nearby township were already at Gilraea's cave by the time I arrived, and are turning what's left of the place over as we speak. Luckily, one of our local plants managed to weasel their way onto the team before they left, so at least we'll know what they know, and a bit more besides with our helping of context."

"Yes, yes, I can see them now. Looks like a lot of stuff was either missing or destroyed. But what about him?" The Queen asked, beginning to tap a foot in annoyance as she gestured to me. "What does he have to do with all this, aside from his absurd claim to her death?"

"Ooh, ooh!" I said, putting on an excited tone. "Tell her about the part where you think I'm a spy, and somehow thought it'd be a great idea to drag me into the apparent heart of your leader's camp...!"

"YOU WHAT...?!?!" The queenlike being demanded, rounding on the unfortunate Changeling.

"Ahhh, um, I mean, I figured we could pump him for information or something...?" The Changeling suggested, speaking much faster than before. "Of course, I could've jumped to conclusions about the whole thing, it's just that his claims seemed so outlandish, and I've heard rumors of a tall bipedal stranger walking around in full armor that apparently sided himself with the ponies a while back, and I figured this might be him, so--"

"SILENCE!!!" The queen demanded, leaping to her feet. "Lest you burrow yourself any deeper into the hole you've dug."

"Yeah, you're drilled so far into the bedrock that you were still accelerating when you hit the bottom of the barrel," I added.

"Hold your tongue, outsider...!" She snapped at me. "I'll deal with you later. Now, as for you..."

"Please! Please, Lady Chrysalis, I beg you! I'll not be so careless again...!" The Changeling began bowing and scraping, inadvertently releasing me from his magical hold. As he did, I carefully took the opportunity to get into a cross-legged sitting position.

"You're right," the so-called "Chrysalis" said, appearing not to notice me as she summoned a ball of green energy at the tip of the jagged horn protruding from her forehead. "You'll never fail me again." She then blasted him with a wave of green hellfire, and I briefly saw his silhouette disintegrate within the inferno before it all dissipated, leaving nothing behind.

I swallowed heavily, and turned my attention back to "Chrysalis," not caring how evident my fear was. She was wearing a grim, satisfied grin and chuckling slightly. All too soon, she fixed her dangerous gaze on my seated form and began walking over to me. Without my even thinking about it, the faceplate beneath my helmet's visor snapped closed, covering my mouth and nose once more.

"Oh, dear, don't be that way..." One of her sharp, clawed fingers found its way under my chin as she leaned over me, and she lifted my gaze to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry you had to see that unfortunate exchange. You see, I can be quite merciful to those serve me well, or at least stay on my good side. After all, their service is what I pay them for." Her voice was soft, almost caring, though still marred by that buzz...

"Wait, you actually pay these guys...?"

"Allow them to live for," she corrected, her finger scratching against the bottom of my helmet as her composure briefly showed cracks all of which were quickly smoothed over. "But no matter: what is of greatest importance to me at this time is you, stranger. Who are you? Where do you come from? And to whom do you bear allegiance?"

"Uh..." My gaze briefly flicked to the progress bar ADA had thrown up on my HUD: she was approximately 73% finished with her "preparations," whatever that meant. "You just vaporized that guy..."

"No, no, he's just been transported to a nearby empty lava pocket until such time as I have a much cooler head, and can deal with him personally. Now, about my questions..." She smiled at me, dangerously, with a hint of a dark glitter in her slitted eyes.

"Ah... well, I guess you can call me Caldoric. As for the other two questions, well, they kinda go hand-in-hand. See, despite what I said earlier about the guy thinking I was a spy, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time: I actually don't owe my allegiance to anyone on this world, or plane of existence, or whatever it is in this reality..."

"Wait." The figure before me held up a hand, standing tall once more. "Do you mean to imply that you're free-roaming? Or that you're somehow from 'another world'?"

"Mostly the second, though I guess also the first now that I'm basically a stranger in a strange land like this one." I shrugged, then continued on before I could be stopped again. "I gotta know, though: why'd that guy call you Chrysalis? You certainly don't look much like her, though there are some passing similarities between the both of you. I mean, she was an insectoid-equine quadrupedal ungulate, but you're a bipedal... I don't even know."

"Believe me, I am indeed that same Queen Chrysalis of which you speak, though I must wonder..." She leaned over once more and glared into my eyes. "If you're a stranger to this land, and have no allegiance to anyone here, how do you know what form I previously took?"

"Multiverse Theory: ever hear of it? Well, in layman's terms, in a Multiverse with infinite worlds, everything is possible. And it just so happens that, in the world I come from, everything here exists within a story, except dumbed down and told to children for their entertainment." I paused, momentarily unsure if I should go on, then pressed ahead with reckless abandon. "It mostly follows the adventures of Twilight and her friends--"

"Everything?" Chrysalis seemed suddenly interested. Almost dangerously so, in fact. "What does this story say, pray tell, about myself and my hive...?"

"Well, you're one of a few villains who crop up to disturb the otherwise peaceful world of Equestria -- a rare recurring one, and one of my personal favorites at that -- but you still ended up getting your ass whooped by the old 'Power Of Love' bullshit a couple times..."

"Damn it all to Tartarus!" Chrysalis shouted, stomping one foot with enough force to crack the stone beneath her before stalking off to one side. She paused, covering her face with a splayed hand as she shook with rage. "I never can seem to catch a break, can I? Even in another world..."

"Hey, it's not all bad: I mean, if it helps, there was one tale of what most folks would consider a 'bad ending' timeline, where you prevailed at the wedding and managed to take over most of Equestria. Of course, there were still a couple pockets of resistance afterwards, led by a zebra named Zecora who seemed to be the only one sensible enough to suss out Changelings from 'normal' folks, but that's not necessarily a constant across all timelines. After all, in the 'original,' you never ended up looking like... this. I mean, it's a bold change, but what exactly happened with that?"

Chrysalis turned to look at me again, her expression one of dangerous caution, mixed with a bit of lingering anger. "Honestly... what you say does help, to a degree. Imagining the entire nation within my grasp, its subjects slaves to my very will, and the future of my hive practically set in stone... it pleases me. Pray, tell, what set that timeline apart from this one?"

"Eh, someone went back in time and dicked with something that normally would've started a chain reaction that caused the Elements to get together in the first place, though that was only one of several attempts to disrupt their friendship through time-travel, with other attempts resulting in other major villains ending up in control, such as Sombra, Tirek, or Princess Luna's alter-ego, Nightmare Moon. Bad endings, all of them."

Chrysalis gave me a strange look, and I could almost see gears turning in her head. That... probably wouldn't be a good thing for me in any timeline...

"Oh...? A working time-travel spell was finally created? And the timeline of my success was but one of many? Tell me, those others... How did they fare?"

"Uh...?" I flicked my gaze to the progress bar again. 86%. Honestly, why did I care about that? It probably wouldn't do me any good... "Well, uh, Sombra was back to being at war with Equestria proper, using an army of mind-controlled crystal ponies from the North; Nightmare Moon had seemingly irrevocably banished Celestia to God-knows-where and thrown the world into what one could only assume was neverending night, (though I doubt the logistical viability of such an action given that plants need light and the world needs heat from the sun); Discord was... well, Discord; nobody's really sure what happened with Tirek, though I think the blasted wasteland that Twilight showed her aggressor back in the 'present' to get her to rethink her actions was probably part of the Centaur's doing. And you already know yours."

Chrysalis growled dangerously. "Twilight Sparkle...! Her and her little friends, her fellow little Elements of Harmony...! Always ruining everything I worked so hard to set up! And whom, might I ask, was responsible for the time-travelling itself? For altering the timeline on such a scale, as you so claim, and putting little Twilight to so much trouble to fix it...?"

"Er... If you're thinking of nabbing her means of temporal displacement, I'm not sure she's created it yet, or if she's still even on the same destiny-path thing that would lead her to doing so in the first place! I don't even know where or when I am -- or rather, we are -- on your timeline in comparison to the quote-unquote 'alpha' timeline presented in the sho-- the stories back home!"

"Her name...!" Chrysalis demanded. "I want her name! I wish to propose... an alliance..."

"Y-you really shouldn't" I stammered, and became momentarily incoherent as I scrambled to find the words. "S-s-s-she, uh, if she hasn't done it yet, then it uh, it means twilight hasn't fucked with the thing she's working on r'now, and, uh, she hasn't subsequently gone crazy enough with revenge to like, try fucking with the spell...? Like, time-travel's heavy shit, you know, and-- Aack!"

My rambling was cut short by the sight of Chrysalis conjuring a ball of green flame in her bare hand. "Tell me what I want to know, or there will be repercussions."

"S-suns-- wait, no, that's the other--... Starlight, uh S-starlight Glimmer. But, uh, y-you really don't wanna--" I flinched as Chrysalis raised the fireball, and shouted the first thing that came to mind. "Y-YOUR HIVE STARVES!!! I-I mean, it w-- it will, or a-at least it'll come close, if you keep up this warlike behavior towards Equestria, but s-she fixes that, later, sorta... but only after her madness is a-allowed to run its, uh, its course, and Twilight's reformed her and shit... s-so, uh, y-you're b-better leaving her al-alone for the time being, if you really care for your Changelings...!"

Chrysalis was silent for a few moments, letting the fireball dissipate as she took in what I said. At long last, she spoke.

"I do care for my Changelings, I'll have you know. There's not much I wouldn't do to keep my people, my flesh and blood, alive. And so, even though you have no reason to speak either truth or lies to me, nor I to even remotely trust you, I'm choosing to have a little faith in you. Your words, though spoken in fear and haste, they have a taste of honesty about them, with a lick of desperation and regret. For that, I will allow you to live."

"T-thank you...!" I murmured, briefly dipping my head to her. "To be honest, I have uh, n-nothing in this world right now, not family or friends or... or even a place to call home. So I have nothing to g-gain by lying, and everything to gain by being honest. That, uh, said, there is one thing in this world that I know of that m-might be able to get me home, but unfortunately, it's in the care of the... nnnh..."

"Speak up. I'll not be taking requests, but I would hear what you have to say: it may prove invaluable should we need to effect a tactical retreat."

"Um, well, see, it's in the care of the Equestrian diarchs, and uh, it's not small or easy to transport, and f-fragile, very fragile... It, uh, as far as I know, it connects to, like, at least one iteration of my world, but I dunno if it can be, uh, recalibrated or something? I think Starswirl or someone made it, so I d-dunno how it works, or anything about magic in general but... It's my only hope right now."

"And what is it...?"

"A m-mirror, of sorts... Huge, for a pony, t-tall, purplish frame, horseshoe-shaped, 'bout eleven red diamond-shaped gems set into the frame? B-but it only opens once every thirty moons or some bollocks, unless Twilight gets involved, in which case it opens whenever anyone wants..."

"Well? Do you expect us to sneak you in there on a whim?" Chrysalis demanded. "I'll not have anything to do with that mare, unless it involves her destruction!"

"Y-you don't have to...! I was just... I was gonna j-just ask for their help on this -- they're really big on helping folks in need, I'll tell ya that -- she'll probably jump at the chance to do something new and unexpected w-with magic..."

"Oh, so you'll bargain for your passage with what information you've gathered here, then? I don't think so."

"N-no, please...! I wouldn't tell them anything, I s-swear...! I already told you a number of times, I owe them no allegiance, I wouldn't even tell them you were still kicking up trouble. I just wanna go h-home, alright? But, I do g-gotta know..."

"Speak, whelp." All trace of friendliness was gone from Chrysalis' voice.

"Well, y-you never answered one of my questions... H-how did you, uh, end up looking like, well, the way you do now?"

She sighed, heavily, then knelt down so she could look me roughly in the eye. "Remember how I said there wasn't much I wouldn't do for my people?" I nodded, and she continued. "Yes, well, I was offered a significant increase in power and ability, as well as physical modifications to my very self, in return for allegiance to someone of great power. Power so great, it boggles even my own mind to try and comprehend his command over it all. And he shared some of it with me..."

"Hah, you sold out to somebody else?" I asked, shocked and amused at the revelation. "Wow, I never figured you for the type to do such a thing!" I then lost myself to a bout of chuckling at the absurdity of the idea: Chrysalis, someone else's gopher? Damn, that must really chafe...

Chrysalis, however, was less amused. "Indeed, some might see it as such. Yet, with your apparent knowledge of things to come, our plans against Equestria would fall into place much more smoothly. Join us, and your wildest fantasies could be realized: you could have anything you so desired."

"Well, as much as I like the idea of fucking over random Equestrians, my deepest desire right now is to just go home, and although I've no allegiance to either side of this little conflict you've got going on, Equestria has what I need to achieve my goal. Sure, I'll have to probably kiss up to them a bit to get Twilight to try and fiddle with the mirror, but I wouldn't do anything to implicate I had any sort of Interaction with you and yours; I'll swear it on anything you care to name, if that helps." I held my hands out to either side, and grinned hopefully. "As far as they'll know, this meeting never happened, and I don't even know you exist...!"

Chrysalis chuckled darkly, and I instinctually checked the progress bar. 97, no, 98%. "Oh, I think you misunderstand. I said I'd let you live: I never said you could leave. After all, you know too much about us now. And I wasn't offering an invitation to join us... I was telling you what your future entailed."

"How 'bout fuck off?"

I was immediately caught up in a pocket of nebulous green magic, which was synched to a matching bubble of magic around Chrysalis' hand. With a gesture, my back was slammed to the ground and my limbs were drawn in all directions and held there. I was officially stuck.

"How 'bout no?" She replied. "You're too much of an asset and a liability to let go. You'd best prepare yourself: you'll be staying a long time."

I didn't wait for ADA to finish, or even allow myself to think, before I acted. "Chrysalis, you're never going to get me to cooperate. Whatever your beef is with the Ponies, I don't care: it's not a cross I'm gonna die on, and especially not for you. The only way you're going to save yourself the sort of trouble I can cause you is to kill me, so you might as well--...!"

Meanwhile, as I was tirading at Chrysalis, I was sending a simple message to ADA. The only way I can see myself getting out of this is if you set that soul-binding thing, so...

"Just do it!"

I said and thought those last three words at the same time, sending a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that I might survive to see another day, or, failing that, that my death would be quick and painless.

At this moment, I was overwhelmed with intense anger, an unyielding rage at everyone and everything around me, but above all at myself for having let myself get into this situation. No matter what I'd done so far, it had all led to this moment, possibly the last of my life.

ADA told me, responding to her end of my earlier utterance.

"Then perish!" Chrysalis spat, replying to my seeming invitation.

The self-proclaimed leader of the Changelings drew back her free hand, which was already engulfed in green flames, probably the herald of my coming doom.

A voice, unfamiliar and uninvited, began echoing in my head as everything hyperfocused and slowed to a crawl. "Thunder in your right hand, Lightning in your left: Frost behind you, Fire before you: Stars above, and Earth below. Where you must stand, there is neither up-ness nor down-ness; at the center of all, all things pass untouched, for there, there is only... BALANCE!"

My entire form was suddenly nothing but pain, but beyond it I could sense something greater: a power, a strength, that I had to reach, I had to master, or all would surely be lost: my rage wouldn't let me entertain any other option. I reached as best I could, and...

~~~~
If there was one thing Chrysalis prided herself on, it was her ability to sense the emotions of a nearby being on a surprisingly intrinsic level. All Changelings shared the ability, of course, but her senses were the strongest among her entire hive (and, she told herself, out of all the other hives as well.) And, thanks to the augmentations she'd been so graciously given by her new benefactor, she could also divine the approximate thaumic power level of a given being as well.

The entire time she'd endured the presence of the strange young not-quite-dragon presently lying before her, she'd been able to read him like a book. One written by a very eccentric author, perhaps, but a book nonetheless, with a beginning, a middle, and an all-too-predictable end in the imminent future. He was cocky and overconfident, sure, yet he was also scared, confused, and full of a despair that almost bordered on full-on loss. And there was just a hint of something darker, a shadowy seed deep within, hidden behind the strangely complex layers of his personality. She had to commend him on holding his composure so well this whole time, too; most normal ponies would've been cowering and weeping by now, near to pissing themselves if they hadn't already at the mere sight of her. But this stranger? No, he was defiant, even now.

Stranger than that, however, was the fact that his magical power was so absurdly low, even for someone of draconic blood: it was practically non-existent, even. She almost thought it impossible, yet she had also heard tales and reports of magicless entities scattered throughout the known world, so it wasn't entirely unthinkable...

She'd been savoring the moment of the impudent wretch's coming demise too long, she realized, and moved to release the spell she'd prepared especially for his destruction.

That was when it all went wrong.

She felt a sudden upsurgance of dark energy within her audience of one, yet he was not the source of it: instead, it felt like some form of remotely activated spell, the exact nature of which she could not identify. In that initial moment, her hold upon the stranger who called himself "Caldoric" was forcibly broken, the released energy of which was strong enough to send the Hive-queen sliding several feet backwards. Chrysalis was left momentarily rattled, though it was but the work of an instant for her to regain her composure and once more lay eyes on her quarry. As she did, Caldoric's back arched and he gave a strangled yell, though she knew not why. Chrysalis, unsure for a moment, mentally pinged her hive and told them to be ready for trouble.

By this point, Caldoric's body was fully engulfed in the now-familiar clotted haze of dark magic, and was being bodily hoisted into the air by it. A moment more, and he was upright once again, having ceased his infernal screaming. He stood hunched, breathing raggedly, as a spark of magic ignited within him. This time, it seemed to Chrysalis to be a spark of his own, instead of some unknown benefactor. As it grew, and expanded to fill his soul almost to the brim, Caldoric looked up, locking his unseen and unseeing eyes with Chrysalis'.

This isn't good...! She thought, as she took in the sight of him. Even though she couldn't see his eyes from this range, she could tell they were pouring out purple smoke and practically glowing green. His stupid little tattered cloak was billowing in a nonexistent wind, his clawed hands and the two horns protruding through his helm were all engulfed in similar clouds of purple-green energy, and rage was just about the only thing Chrysalis could feel from him as he began chuckling darkly. What was this, some absurd sort of thaumic surge? Whatever it was, it did not bode well for Chrysalis or her forces. My children! She cried over the mental link, Your Queen is threatened! Come, lend me aid!

With but that simple command, she could feel the entire force under her command moving to her defence, and she could even now see shadowy figures slinking into the chamber through unseen entrances.

"Vee hee hee...!" The unusual words, as of laughter spoken aloud, caught Chrysalis' attention, and she looked at Caldoric. "So, won't you play a game with me, me...? I'll teach you what it truly means to be free!"

"Cease your tomfoolery, and surrender!" Chrysalis replied. "I'm through playing your games!"

"Aw, boo-hoo, but how can you refuse me when you're already playing?" Caldoric brought a hand to the approximate location of his mouth, and chuckled. "See? 'Tis but a simple game of numbers!"

"What of it? What is this foolish numbers game you so desperately seek to play with me?"

Caldoric's back hunched a bit, his wings splaying in a show of aggression, and his visor snapped open to reveal a mirthless and predatory grin. He spread his hands out wide, in a gesture that begged her to guess. "Simple: when your HP falls to zero... You die!"

Chrysalis barely had time to throw up a defensive shield before the bolt of magic Caldoric launched struck it. Not even half a second after, she was punched in the gut by a bolt of electrical energy that sent her flying across the room, where she smacked against the far wall. Dazed by the impact, she noted that he seemed to be singing, but the words escaped her. Sounds of battle and magical music echoed in her ears as her consciousness threatened to fade entirely, and left her wondering one thing:

For someone with no natural magic, how had he gotten off those two spells, let alone in such quick succession?

Author's Note

The "Spire," btw, is the same one seen previously in the show, where that one red dragon takes up brief residence and nearly smokes out Ponyville. Early season, idk which.

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Rage and Hope, in Their Measure

I burned. It was the only way I could describe what I felt in that moment. It was hot, and cold, and tingly, and nothing, and it was my everything. In my desperation, I had grasped the force behind the pain, and now the pain was no longer of concern to me. There was only the power, and the rage.

See, just like most people, I'd never been fully in control of my life, and I had been wholly out of its control since the museum, which felt months ago now. But now, I had the power: I could make the changes, and I could be free!

Tickled with a euphoria that only helped the rage burn brighter, I giggled, then chuckled, realizing I had somehow become upright once more. Looking up, I saw Chrysalis had apparently backed off, looking shocked, or concerned, or something. Not my concern, really...

I decided it was time to have some fun with this new power. I left it flow and dribble where it wanted, and I could feel it pool in my hands and horns as I prepared my impromptu attack. It felt like that singular moment was at a momentous turning point, and I was certain that it was time to channel some madness; Jevil should suffice...

"Vee hee hee...!" I said, garnering Chrissy's undivided attention. "So, won't you play a game with me, me...? I'll teach you what it truly means to be free!"

"Cease your tomfoolery, and surrender!" Chrysalis spat back, slashing a claw horizontally through the air: oooh, she was piiiiiiiiiissed...!~. "I'm through playing your games!"

"Aw, boo-hoo," I said, mockingly, "but how can you refuse me when you're already playing?" Coyly, I placed a hand to my faceplate, just over my mouth, just to be annoying: fortunately, it was something I had years of practice in doing. "See? 'Tis but a simple game of numbers!"

"What of it? What is this foolish numbers game you so desperately seek to play with me?"

She had taken my bait: perfect. I settled into an aggressive slouch with a chuckle to myself, and I could feel my still-sore wings splaying up and out, above and behind me, probably as a newfound instinctual thing. As the lower half of my visor/faceplate thing snapped open, and new icons flashed into vision on my HUD, I gave Chrysalis the most mirthless, predatory, axe-crazy grin I could. I held out my arms then, just to show her how many fucks I gave in that moment: goose-egg. "Simple," I replied to her question, "when your HP falls to zero... You die!"

I jabbed my left hand forward, remembering a spell I had become fond of in my days of D&D, when I played an unwilling warlock dragonborn: Eldritch Blast, one of the staple cantrips for the class. The magic that now flowed wild through my very being responded without hesitation, sending a triad of dark beams sizzling across the distance to Chrysalis.

She got up some sort of shield to block the attack, but my right hand had begun moving half a second behind the left, channeling another spell I was fond of, though usually far less successful at casting (usually due to crappy dice, and nothing else): Witchbolt! The deadly arc of electricity managed to get past her defences, slamming into her stomach and throwing her across the chamber, ass over teakettle.

I didn't even pay attention long enough to see her crash against the wall: I was already belting out a few lines from Lynard Skynyrd's "Free Bird" as the appropriate music began playing from thin air.

"♪'Cause I'm as a bird now... and this bird you cannot chaaange~...♪

My attention was drawn by movement all around, and I saw a veritable horde of small, dark, rustling, blue-eyed shapes that were likely very angry I'd bitch-slapped their Queen. I didn't even break time in my singing as I spread my arms wide in challenge, relishing the imminent fight. "♪Lord knows, I can't... cha-e-aa-e-aa-e-ange, yeah, yeah, yeah,♪ YEAH!"

Without a further word, I launched forward into the forming crowd with a flap of my wings, tail lashing as Free Bird's signature epic guitar riffs played loud and clear around us. I swung wild and free with my fists, I kicked savagely where I could find purchase: I sent forth blasts and beams of pure destruction with my blazing new powers. My rage, my soul, my very being burned brighter and more intensely than it had ever before, and I found myself going all-out berzerk on every single one of them.

And it was easy.

And it felt wonderful.

I yelled with the full fury of my rage, I screamed aloud with delight, I cackled with abandon at the onset of madness, and I was, in that moment, untouchable.

I summoned blades of dark energy from my hands, and of pure crystals pulled from the ground all around me. I sliced and diced, I reached and grabbed, crushed and thrashed and tossed, I moved faster than sight or thought, and then something hit me, hit me hard enough to register through the red mist that had descended upon my vision. It staggered me, made me tingle in unpleasant ways, and restricted my movements. Then another unknown something hit me, and I was hindered yet more. I shouted wordless hate at the air, the cavern, at my foes, and tried to power through this new obstacle, but I could not do it. I was struck again, and again, and then again, and I found myself unable to keep from falling.

And I could not maintain my rage.

And the pain came, then. And it was worse than even the burning I had felt those mere moments ago, before I had been flooded with power. In my heart, my rage lost its hold, and died, and my glorious power faded with it, and I was left with naught but pain and immobility as foe after foe piled on top of my rigid form.

What will become of me now...? I wondered to myself, my thoughts filled with sorrow. It hurt, to be made to let go of that moment of impossibility. For a brief time, I had spun, and the worlds had spun with me. But now, I had crashed, and the worlds spun on without me. It was so unfair...

I closed my eyes, ready to let the encroaching darkness take me.

~~~~
Chrysalis sat up with a groan, pressing a hand to her aching head. The sheer amount of input she'd suddenly had to take after this Caldoric character's attack had overwhelmed her, and the pain her kin had felt had momentarily driven her unconscious. But now...

"Ah, you have finally awoken."

It was the voice in the shadows, the voice of her new master. It held no emotion, nor any concern for her well-being.

"Are you done napping in the dust, little insect?" He asked. "I had to step in at the last moment and appropriate control of a number of your forces to settle this debacle of yours. Are you even worth the powers I gave you, I wonder? Or must I always do everything myself?!"

Chrysalis' first instinct was to begin spewing apologies, but experience taught her that it would be better to wait out her benefactor's wrath, silently accepting his judgement when it came.

"You will rectify this situation," he continued, the voice itself still only audible to her. "You will deal with this intruder promptly, and then return to the creation of new forces. This setback has already cost us months of effort."

"As you command," she replied silently, and made her way over to the dogpile of underlings currently holding Caldoric down. Commanding them to move aside, the interloper's prone form was quickly revealed to be encaged from head to toe in a dense net of crackling, sizzling energy, and Chrysalis took a moment to look through an artificial reconstruction of the brief scuffle, created by the many recollections and viewpoints of the Hive-mind.

What she saw shocked her: after she'd been rendered unconscious, Caldoric had leapt into combat like nothing she'd seen before. She watched as he became a veritable dynamo of destruction, quickly turning into some unholy cross between a tornado, a blender, and a possessed woodchipper. Honestly, she was amazed that any of those he'd encountered had been left even marginally whole.

Now, however, as she looked down into his eyes, she could sense nothing of the earlier rage: dazed confusion seemed to be the only thing in its place. She held out a hand, full of pure destructive energy, ready to reduce Caldoric to little more than slag.

"You wretch... You have cost me much more than you can know with your actions here today. As such, you shall know the sweet taste of Oblivion, but not before I have a little fun first: perhaps I should pull the wings off the butterfly before me, to start...?"

"No, no more fooling around!" Her master's voice sounded again, this time as normal sound that carried through the air, the source appearing to be a tall, ragged figure leaning heavily on an unusual scythe-like staff in a dark corner. At those words, however, Caldoric jerked against his restraints and fought to turn and look at the source.

"Who... is that...?" He groaned, laboring to get the words out.

"Knowing would do you little good, wayward fool," the figure responded. "You shall perish imminently."

"Try me," Caldoric spat back, gaining strength. "I almost recognize your voice, but I can't place it. I just need a nudge: a name, even."

Chrysalis raised an eyebrow in the general direction of the shadowed figure, awaiting instructions. There was a moment of silence, and then...

"I am known as Makuta, Master of Shadows. Know it, and tremble in fear."

~~~~
I immediately burst out laughing, much to the surprise of Chrysalis and the self-proclaimed "Makuta". The voice, now that I thought about it, sounded much like what I remembered the voice of Makuta in Bionicle: Mask of Light to sound like, but that didn't really mean anything.

"Ohh-ho-ho," I finally choked out, "that's, that's hilarious. Tell me, which Makuta are you supposed to be? Mutran? Krika? Oh, oh, maybe even Teridax...?" I couldn't help myself: I began laughing again. "Seriously, if you're supposed to be a Makuta, then I'm Toa Vakama, and Chrysalis here is Roodaka!"

I barely had time to register the sound of Chrysalis readying herself once more to kill me before "Makuta's" voice called out again.

"Stay your hand, Chrysalis!" He barked, voice still ringing as deep and edgy as when I'd first heard him speak.

"But sir, I--"

"Silence!" That shut her up. "I would hear from him how he comes by the knowledge of those names. Speak, whelp, and I might allow you a quick and painless death. Waste my time, and it will be slow, and painful."

"Oh, what next?" I asked. "You know a thousand ways to kill me, and 941 of them hurt? Don't try to quote Bionicle lore to me, faker: I was following the story as it came o--rrk...!"

My wrists and ankles were seized in what I could only assume to be magic, and something large, angular, and blunt shoved itself into my back, forcing my restrained (and tingling!) body into a painful, semi-vertical position.

"I will give you one more chance," the edgelord intoned, as Chrysalis visibly smouldered before him. "Tell me, if you take me to be false, then what do you make of this very real Visorak...?"

No sooner hand the speaker finished, than a dark, squat shape entered into my field of vision. I was too shocked to provide any sort of real answer: before me was, as I had been told, a very real Visorak. I could smell its foul stench from here.

You see, Visorak are large, four-legged spiderlike creatures from Bionicle lore, a sort of intelligent beast that liked capturing and occasionally mutating less-fortunate prey they happened across. They had massive mandibles that were almost as long as the rest of their body, and each of the six separate breeds was capable of launching an energy spinner from its back, the specific breed determining the spinner's effects on the target. They also did not smell good.

The one I was looking at, however, was not one of the six normal variants. Granted, it looked much like an Oohnorak, the black variant known for eerily perfect vocal mimicry, but it didn't have the yellow-orange accent colors indicative of that breed. The whole thing was almost entirely black, save for its eyes, which were the same strange teal as those of the unconscious changelings around me, and on its forehead it bore a crude mockery of a changeling's horn.

"The fuck...?! That's no Visorak I've ever seen before!" I proclaimed, flinching as the energy field that still coated my body caused a fresh wave of tingling to race across my battered frame.

"It's a new variant," I was told, "created thanks to the generous donation of time and genetic material from young Chrysalis and her hive. What say you to that...?"

"That's... interesting, but how are you even here? For one, the Equestrian and Matoran universes were from separate fictional franchises, created by two equally separate toy production companies. Admittedly, I'm somewhat willing to accept this place as being real, because Multiverse Theory, but not that the real Teridax could ever really be here as well, which brings me to my next point: Second of all, aren't you supposed to be dead, Teridax? Could'a sworn you took a fuckin moonlet to the head in that final fight with Mata Nui, and on Spherus Magna no less, not whatever the hell planet this is."

"And how could you be so sure this isn't Spherus Magna?" Teridax asked, smugly, as if he'd somehow caught me out. "Aside from your so-called 'multiverse theory', that is."

"Sir, forgive my intrusion, but is this conversation truly necessary?" Chrysalis asked, sounding impatient. She had already taken a seat on the floor, and begun tapping her clawed fingers against the cold stone. "I would advise that we dispose of him, swiftly, and be done with the whole debacle."

"Hold, Chrysalis: I would hear what this whelp would say before passing judgement upon his head." He then fell silent, and I could tell he was waiting expectantly for my next words. I merely scoffed as if the answer were obvious, and summoned as much false bravado as I could.

"Pshhh, the answer's easy," I eventually explained, and found that I wasn't exactly lying. "The fucking moon, man. Equestria has a sun and a moon, the latter of which Princess Luna supposedly moves into position at the start of the night. After Mata Nui whooped your backside and completed Bara, Aqua, and Bota Magna's Reformation into Spherus Magna, there were no moons or other satellites left orbiting the reforged world. Honestly, if there's anything my people have come to understand quite well over the last several decades, it's things like orbital mechanics, and the natural formation and acquisition of satellite entities by larger astral bodies in a stable or semi-stable solar system.

"Hell, we've sent folks to the moon of our own world using machines with less computational, calculation, and processing power than the 'smart' device in my pocket, and all entirely without any of the magic that the people of this world hold so dear. We've even gone so far as to isolate and split the atom itself, and then weaponize that technology to make bombs that were then used on a couple of our own cities, just because they were being assholes. Of course, we also put a stop to doing that ever again because of how devastating it was: we're not completely stupid, after all. And you think yourself so clever for deciding to take over the Matoran Universe, when you stole the entire idea from Pridak and the other Barraki of the League of Six Kingdoms. And yeah, I know about that."

I then proceeded to give him a variation on the speech delivered to Batman by Bane in "The Dark Knight Rises," though I wasn't exactly paying attention to what I was saying, so I'm hazarding a guess when I say that my version probably went something like the following: "See, you merely adopted the shadows, expunging yourself of all inner Light until your 'mastery' was absolute, and only from there did you plot and scheme. My kind, however, have carved their very existence from the twilit realm between Shadow and Light over the last ten-thousand-plus years of our history, and we are all the stronger for it."

After that, I believe I concluded my "reason you suck" rant by reading him and Chrysalis a very foreshortened riot act about the great and terrible things that Humans of times past have done, and how interlinked it all has been. I even pointed out how the final death toll of World War 2 swings wildly between 15 and 85 million depending on what any given person is willing to define as a "casualty of war". Chrysalis was looking a little pale by the end of it all.

"And... You say this all has taken place over the last ten thousand years?" Makuta asked at last, after a brief silence.

"Yeah... Our natural lifespans are the blink of an eye for the likes of you, so we gotta make a big splash if we wanna be remembered in the history books. Nowadays our life expectancies range anywhere from seventy- or eighty-something on average to a little over a hundred-ten at the outliers. Standard of living has had a big impact on that. And as for the whole 'ten millennia" thing... I may be misremembering on the low end, there. Mosta what I told you about happened within the last thousand, maybe fifteen-hundred years: we've got excavated fossils of our ancestors across the globe that go back ten 'kay' at least, maybe even a couple hundred."

"And what do your people call themselves, again? As a species? After all, you've routinely mentioned acts I know the dragons and their kin to be incapable of, and you've made mention multiple times of having been 'changed' by my former underling, one 'Gilraea' the Dragoness."

Teridax seemed dangerously interested, but I humored him. I really wanted to just get outta there, and I was thinking that compliance might just be my key to survival in that moment.

"In scientific terms, we refer to ourselves as Homo Sapiens, though in more commonplace conversation we just call ourselves 'humanity,' 'humankind,' 'human beings,' 'humans,' or, more often than not, just 'people'. Far as we know, we're the only sapient race on the planet, so we never really have to talk about our species in a more formal general sense in day-to-day speech."

"Impossible...! I heard Makuta mutter, and was unable to formulate a response because, just then, the Visorak that had resolved itself to crouching just below my limited field of vision finally popped up again, and then I felt the ends of its massive mandibles clamping around my midsection. There was no sense of crushing or puncturing, no indication that my armor had been completely and violently breached, yet I still sensed my form being pumped full of what felt like pure hydrochloric acid, and the pain of it quickly rendered me unconscious.

~~~~
"What are you doing?!" Chrysalis demanded as Caldoric's form went limp. "I thought we were going to kill him for--!"

"I am subjecting him to a test..." the shadow among shadows spat at her, its glowing orange eyes briefly flared red with blue irises, and Chrysalis shuddered to think upon the battered mechanical monstrosity they inhabited. "I would learn whether or not the venom of your bastardized Visorak is viable, and what effect it may have on the already altered form of this... most interesting guest of ours."

"...Master, there's something you're not telling me about this. What is it?"

"You will have him bound in Visorak webbing, and taken to an observation cell. A close eye will be kept upon him, until further notice. He may yet be of use to us..."

"Sir, I must ask what is going through your mind at this moment." It burned Chrysalis, and quite obviously so, to know that she was not the one in charge of the situation, that she wasn't holding all the cards: it wasn't fair, she believed, and she felt that she deserved something right now, so she pushed her luck. "You've commandeered my experiments again, despite claiming I would have free reign with the results of my efforts. You've appropriated my invader-slash-impromptu-assassin, and forced me to sit through more than enough of his inane chatter.

"There are many things that I do not tell you, Chrysalis!" The form of Makuta snapped, and everyone awake in the cavern just then flinched at his words. "Enough, in fact, to span many dozens of libraries' worth of books. But know this: A long time ago, my kind were tasked with the creation of many various forms of wildlife for the world in which we found ourselves. This duty, as well as the powers inherent with it, have since been handed down to you, my little Harbinger of Pestilence. Yet, even with all of that, I have taught you a mere fraction of what I know of such genetic modification, and if you wish to live long enough to learn more, to discover if the genetic well-being of your own kin can be salvaged from its abominable origins, then you will do as I say.Am I clear?"

Chrysalis was momentarily taken aback by her master's tone, but she recovered quickly and gave him a curt nod in leu of speaking her mind any further.

"Good. Now, clean up this mess and leave me be; there is much that I must now consider, in light of our guest's revelations." The shadowy form of Teridax turned and lurched off into the darkness, disappearing from sight and earshot into the shadows themselves. The Visorak that had incapacitated Caldoric gathered his unconscious form onto its back, and scurried off in another direction, seemingly acting on Teridax's orders without waiting for Chrysalis' permission.

Chrysalis carefully pinched the bridge of her nose -- a gesture she felt she was going to become all too familiar with in the future -- and ordered any and all available and able-bodied Changelings still nearby to swing around and assist with the dead and injured in the chamber.

~~~~
My whole body ached, and I was most definitely not in a comfortable position when I came back to wakefulness. Honestly, I was getting tired of "waking up" in these new, less-and-less-favorable situations. This time, for example, I was stuck inside something that seemed almost like a mummy-style sleeping bag wrapped in duct tape and filled with untold numbers of sharp, pokey objects along the inner surface-- oh, who was I kidding, I was stuck in a Visorak cocoon with only the facial portion of my helmet sticking out, presumably so I could breathe. Also, it felt like my very veins were faintly burning with some distant infernal fire, and I could hardly move my extremities.

"ADA!" I exclaimed, gladly, only to stop short and cough a few times: the flesh of my lower abdomen, just below my ribs and around my lower spine, was severely achy, feeling like just after having a week-long flu where the lingering cough wears out the deep-coughing muscles. "Hoo boy, glad to have you back, buddy!"

"Eh, it'll be fine," I lied. "I think I know what it is, and what it's meant to do. It's a known evil, and one I think I'm prepared to deal with, assuming I survive the initial changes that come with it."

<...really? What exactly happened while I was out?> She asked.

"Ah." I took a moment to consider how I'd answer her request for information. The fact that she could be disrupted had me a bit concerned, but it kinda made sense, given that she was a self-proclaimed AI. "Well... I think the best way to put it is that the sudden influx of power kind of ran away with me, and I went berserk on everything. So it seems the whole ordeal affected us both in less-than-optimal ways: at least it's a one-off, eh?"

I chuckled a bit, taken aback by the sass. Yeah, she had to be doing alright if she was cracking those kinds of jokes.

"No, nothing so dramatic as that. I just... ran into a ghost straight out of a childhood story, who then had an equally mythical monster attack me, then I blacked out and woke up here."

"To whom are you speaking...?"

"Waagh...!" I exclaimed, and instinctively rolled away from the unexpected voice of Teridax: it was every bit as deep, menacing, and slow as I remembered. The room in which I had found myself was a bit dark, to say the least, but it hadn't been a concern until now, because I had forgotten Teridax was capable of communication through shadows... and apparently travel through them as well, given the fact that there was now a massive armored shadow in the chamber with me. "Uh, n-no one! I just talk to myself sometimes as if I'm having a conversation with someone else, because it helps me deal with things..."

Run silent, run deep! I silently told ADA. But still stick around, and wait until he's gone before talking again; I dunno what he'd do if...

"Oh, really...? It wouldn't, perhaps, be the so-called 'AI' of which you spoke before? When you first were captured in the old Castle of Two Sisters?"

"H-how d'you...?"

"There is much I see through my control over the shadows... I even noticed your arrival to this world, though I admittedly paid you little mind at the time; you are not the first from beyond this reality to arrive in such a fashion, but perhaps the second or third of which I am aware."

"And why d'you care?" I asked, after a moment. "Even if the other anomalies you detected were other folks like myself arriving here -- which isn't even guaranteed, mind you, -- they won't bow to you, or anyone else like you: we may bend a knee to those we respect, but never truly bow. We humans are headstrong, unlike the submissive ponies and other races of this world."

"So you claim. And yet..." Makuta strode forward, allowing his massive form to become more easily visible. He was always a stickler for being huge, the bloody shapeshifter... "I have seen your kind before, more than three millennia ago, before they all vanished from the face of this world."

"Wait, w-what? I asked, confused both by what I had been told, and by Teridax's appearance. I had been expecting to see what might best be called his "Shadow Titan" form, being his normal, iconic look that most Bionicle fans are familiar with. Instead, I got... something entirely different. "Wait, w-why are you a busted-up Exo-Toa? Is that what you jumped ship in after you got mooned? How are you still possessing that thing with all the holes in it? It looks like when Ultron first showed himself to the Avengers in their second movie, dear God!"

Indeed, the figure before me was that of a set of Exo-Toa armor, massive and battered, with pieces missing or rusted clean through. It leaned heavily on an almost-as-battered streetlamp post, which had been converted into a sort of staff. A long, scythelike blade had been crudely affixed to the top, welded or fused to the arching armature where once had been a gas or possibly-magic lamp. The staff itself was part of a mechanism attached to the wrist of the suit's left arm, where I was sure there once had been an electro-rocket launcher. The punching apparatus build into the right arm was heavily damaged as well, with a pair of vital pistons broken and dangling freely.

The suit whined, rattled, and creaked when it moved, and it was a marvel that it was even remotely functional enough for the energy-based Shadow Titan to still be inhabiting it. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the fact that Teridax's race had once spontaneously evolved, aeons before the main events of the Bionicle storyline, into beings of pure energy that required hermetically sealed vessels to contain their essence and keep them from dying? Amusingly, one of the first substitute vessels for their initially empty suits of protosteel armor was a single suit of Exo-Toa armor. Amazing how things come full circle, isn't it?

"That... is a long story, and one I'm not willing to fully relay at this time." Teridax said, at length.

"Fair, but... Still, how'd you drag that sorry hulk across dimensions from Spherus Magna to Equestria? And what'd you mean, 'you've seen us before we vanished?' And three millennia? Didn't you hear me say we have more than ten or a hundred thousand years of history and genetic roots on Earth?"

The Exo-Toa's glowing eyes dimmed briefly as it shook its short, squat head. "It seems I gave you credit for more intelligence than you were worth, human. You yourself mentioned a theory of the Multiverse, did you not? Does your theory not allow for the idea that time may pass differently betwixt other, disconnected realities? Do your orbital mechanics not allow for other planets in other systems to have a difference in the length of their years, or days, depending on planetary size and local position within the solar system's hierarchy?"

"N-no, I just... I mean i-it's something that crops up in s-science fiction sometimes, b-but I didn't think that--"

"No, of course you didn't think." Teridax thrust the dull edge of his scythe under my chin, which shut me up. "Now, hold your tongue, whilst I'm still inclined to spare your pitiful self a meager quantity of knowledge." At my tentative nod, the blade was removed from my throat, and he thumped the cracked stone-like chunk at the other end of the staff against the ground. "Good. Now, listen carefully, as I'll not be repeating myself. Interrupt, and I'll like as not leave you to the rigors of your fate. After all, I assume you know what now courses through your body, do you not?"

I nodded hurriedly, then let my eyes unfocus as I spoke before he could. Not that he could see them through my helmet... "It is that which would reduce me to the ancient, the primal;" I recited, "the most basic, instinctual part of myself that the civilized of my kind like to believe progress has made us all forget. Hordika venom is its name, and it is the bane to all free-thinking life..."

Makuta seemed taken aback at my words. "Indeed," he said after a second, his tone betraying little emotion, though the glow of the Exo-Toa's eyes narrowed noticeably. "That is one way of putting it. Regardless, listen closely, and I shall reveal all. This world, this planet, is indeed Spherus Magna: upon my fortuitous escape from the wreck of my brother's former body, I acquired this stray Exo-Toa, battered though it was, and it was a matter of little consequence to have it repaired enough to contain my essence: where there is the light of civilization, -- even one as shattered and disorganized as that of the Agori, the Matoran, and their protectors, -- there are those that skulk in the shadows who are willing to aid the likes of myself. Over the ensuing millennia, I silently watched this world as it evolved, and the wildlife evolved with it.

"A most interesting concept, evolution; in all my time before the reformation of Spherus Magna, I'd never known Rahi -- or any other living being, for that matter -- to display such an ability to change over the course of mere generations... The beings that I and my kind made were all designed for specific purposes, and they fulfilled them well in the course of time: they never had room or reason to change. And yet, to the far North of the Agori and Matoran civilizations, the rahi-like creatures became more and more organic, with shorter and shorter lifespans. Eventually, as I wandered, it felt such that I merely needed blink, and dozens of new subspecies would come into being within that instant."

"Such is the curse of longevity," I chimed in, unable to stop myself; not having a good filter between my brain and mouth was a curse of its own, but that was a topic for another day. "To see the world rush by, swift as a river, while you seemingly stand still. Watching empires rise and crumble in mere moments, and never being able to truly appreciate the wonders they bring in their brief existence..." I ground to a halt as Teridax glared at me again.

"I'll forgive you the transgression of your speech, if only for the unexpected grains of wisdom concealed within that statement..." He grumbled at last. "That said, among the many beings I saw arise as I journeyed further to the North, I witnessed the progenitors of the current Pony races. They were far grander and more majestic than the pathetic progeny of today, and above all else, they held far more power than they do now. Granted, it was a wilder form of the magic now prevalent across their kind, but it was still stronger.

"In time, as they learned to shape the magic more towards the light upon which they so dependently leaned, I put my mind to crafting a darker form of it, and I easily succeeded in my task. You yourself used it not so long ago, which I must admit intrigues me to no end. For as I watched the ponies and the other, less interesting races arise from the dust of this world, so too did another unusual species catch my eye. Can you guess which one it was...?"

I waited a couple seconds, unsure if he actually wanted me to respond. "Uh... The Draconequi? You know, Discord's race?"

Makuta blinked for a moment, then gave a faint chuckle of laughter. "No, not them. Though they do have their merits, given their affiliation with Chaos itself. No, the species that truly caught my attention... was yours."

"Wait, the fuck?!" I demanded. "You're still on about that whole 'Humans are from Equestria' thing?"

"Not from Equestria, no. But your ancestors, the first humans, wound up creating quite a nuisance of themselves amongst the other races of this world. Their constantly shifting alliances with other races, and even between their own individual clans, as well as their incredible adaptability and the speed in which they expanded their territory across their corner of this world... there were few who didn't wish them gone, after a time. And one day, about three millennia ago, every trace of humanity vanished without the barest trace. Save for one, that is: there was the faintest hint of a great magic left behind, though not one of their own working. They had never acquired magic of their own, you see, relying instead upon their ingenuity. No, someone else made them vanish, and no-one knew where they had been sent, till now.

"Recently, I have felt multiple instances of a similar kind of magic to that which removed your ancestors from this reality, coinciding with the arrival of a number of individuals. You are the latest of these arrivals, and in light of the information you have so graciously provided about yourself and your kind, I have a proposition."

I raised my eyebrow, but got no response from Teridax. I quickly realized the issue. "Uh, I'm raising my eyebrow here, man. Sorry 'bout that, my helmet's in the way..." The way Teridax dimmed the lights of the Exo-Toa's eyes in that moment, and the way he sighed, made me realize just how much he was beginning to question this conversation, and I could almost hear him thinking something like, "why do I suffer this fool to live...?"

What he actually said, however, was this: "In light of all I have revealed, and what few strange things I have overheard you saying to various others since your arrival... I offer you the choice to join forces with me, and those who trail in my wake. As you know quite well, I have an open position that recently became available. You have expressed that you possess no love for the Ponies of Equestria, or most other races upon the surface of this world, or even the world itself. You also seek a way to return to the world from whence you arrived, Earth, which your people have called home for generations untold, do you not? I can fix this for you, if you so desire: I could acquire the workforce necessary to create a Kanohi Olmak, a Great Mask of Dimensional Gates, by which to send you on your way... or, perhaps, to even repair the one you already possess...?"

I blinked, confused. An Olmak? I didn't have... wait, the masks from the museum back home: one had been mostly golden, with wide and angular cheek-fins that might almost be considered "bladelike" by some... could it have been an Olmak, the same sort of mask worn by former Order of Mata Nui member, Brutaka?

"That... was an Olmak?" I asked, more muttering to myself than speaking to the hulking villain in the room with me. "I mean, the lines were kinda wrong, but then again, it wasn't unheard-of for Kanohi to have been custom-forged in the shape of an unrelated mask in the M.U., for various reasons: even one of the Toa Hagah had their primary done up like that, if I remember correctly. But how'd an Olmak get on Earth, I wonder? Was it actually made there, by human hands? Or did it somehow get sent, by intent or accident? And where would the raw protodermis have come from to make it if it was man-made? The stuff's not real, not in our solar system at least...!"

"Indeed, an Olmak it is," he reassured me, as if I hadn't been talking to myself. "I'm sure of it: I've spent long enough in the Art of Mask-Making to be able to recognize most any Mask brought before me with a mere glance. And that is most assuredly an Olmak, though one damaged beyond all real use at this moment, yet not beyond salvage... But your other mask, the one currently worked into your helmet, is unknown to me. The style of its design reminds me of my brief tenure upon the isle of Okoto, and yet, I cannot discern its power..."

I inhaled slightly, intending to ask why the island of Okoto had been mentioned, but thought better of it: the less he knew I knew, the better. Probably. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite quiet enough...

"What is it? Does Okoto somehow mean something to you, who proclaims knowledge of events prior to my greatest failing?" His voice was soft, but carried just as much of a dangerous edge as I'd ever heard from him, either in person or in the Bionicle movies.

"Uh, it's, uh, from a less-well-received second-generation reboot of Bionicle, and..."

"And just like that, I no longer care." He said. He was beginning to sound frustrated. "Now, will you accept my invitation or not?"

"That depends," I replied, as honestly as possible. "You're asking me to join 'your' side of what I can only presume to be some sort of conflict, either present or soon-to-be, but you've not told me who you're up against, or why. You've promised me a possible way home, but you've not exactly laid out what would be expected in return. You've also laid out a veritable wealth of information that, assuming I believe any of it, could totally shatter the worldview of everyone back home. And that has me the most concerned: anyone who knows anything of the original Bionicle franchise would know that you, of all beings, trust no-one besides yourself, and play everything close to the vest. You've historically only ever reveal anything close to this level of information to a person just before you either killed them, or otherwise rendered them unable to relay said information to anyone else, usually on a permanent basis. And so, I ask... what the ever-loving fuck are you playing at this time, Teridax?"

There was a sigh from Makuta, before he adjusted his stance and sank his gigantic borrowed form into a crouch, holding his scythe sideways as he did. "In all this time your kind have been gone, for all the changes you claim your people have gone through, rest assured that there are some things that have remarkably -- and even annoyingly, -- stayed the same. Chief among them is your curiosity, your insatiable lust for knowledge. Other races of this world operate best when given only a sliver of the greater picture, but not you. You have this innate need to see all the angles, to be 'fully informed' before coming to a decision. And so, I deign to share this information with you, in hopes that you will return my investment."

"Ok, fair," I admitted, nodding. He did have us pegged, on that point at least.

"As for the who and what of your questions... I seek what I have always sought, since the fall of the Barraki: complete and utter dominance of all things in this world. And, as always, there are those who would stand in my way. I believe that having a human among my forces, such as yourself, might be beneficial. You possess a certain element of unpredictability that is unmatched, even by the Draconequi. This, coupled with the fact that your kind have not been seen in over three millennia, would be quite a weight in our favour."

"Alright..." I said, acknowledging his words. "And you're saying that, in return for working with you to take over the world, you'd help me find a way back to my own reality?"

"Correct."

"And yet, I know for a fact that Equestria possesses something that might be able to do the same, perhaps with some fine-tuning. What else can you offer me that they, or any other nation, can't?"

Teridax's borrowed eyes narrowed again, and he was silent for a moment. I was beginning to wonder if I'd finally pushed the envelope too far, when he finally spoke.

"I could offer you power beyond what you could ever hope to come by on your own, be it here or on your homeworld. The augments I gave Chrysalis could be yours as well; she now possesses the same powers as a fully-fledged Makuta in addition to those she was born with, even if she doesn't realize that fact just yet. I could also cure you of the venom now coursing through your body..."

"And yet, if he still lives, Keetongu could do the same with regards to the venom. Assuming I found him before it set in permanently and reduced my mind to that of a slavering beast. The power, however... that's definitely tempting. It's also a classic test of greed and ambition in a potential subordinate, and a typical subtrope to the age-old 'what you are in the dark' trope. Indeed, the power of stories itself is strong in this reality, and neither you nor I are immune to the strength of legends retold, Teridax. That said, I'll have to give your proposal a definite maybe for now. Would you willing to give me time to consider it all, and weigh my options, before I come to a final answer?"

"Know this: the power I have to offer you is one that bears a brief window of opportunity. Accept my invitation, here and now, and it can all be yours. Take time to consider it, and you'll find that power, and perhaps even the cure, to be off the table."

"With all due respect, Teridax -- which is an absolute fuckton, considering that you're my favorite villain of all time -- I've gotta say that you're sounding uncharacteristically desperate right now. And while I'd not be unwilling to mess with the locals a fair bit, I'm not sure I'd be willing to sign on with someone who's in a bind trying to fight Equestria. As such, I must say that my answer is, unfortunately, a resounding 'no': I think I'd rather try to finagle my way through the Equestrian systems, with all the risk that entails. But I wouldn't tell them anything of you or what you're involved with, of course, nor would I get involved against you in any way. All as a courtesy to you, Teridax."

"Then I hope you enjoy what happens next," Teridax replied, standing up abruptly, and I could tell by his tone alone that he would be scowling if he had a proper face. "I've held back the venom's effects for the sake of this conversation, but no longer. I know I'll be watching the ensuing events quite closely: after all, I cannot be entirely certain that the Visorak with which you were acquainted earlier even injected you with Hordika venom at all. There are so very many variables in the field of genetic engineering... so many wrinkles to smooth out, so many bugs to squash. Perhaps you'll change your mind after the poison has had its way with your body, assuming you survive the experience. After all, you're no Toa Metru, so there are no promises you'll be resilient enough to weather the coming storm. Goodbye, Caldoric... Pray you do not further draw my ire, or any continued existence you may have shall be cut short."

And just like that, the hulking, shambling robotic suit just vanished into the shadows around me. I was alone... for now.

ADA...? I queried silently. ADA, you there?

Gods above, it's good to hear you again. Hey, uh, can you interface with my phone at all...? Specifically, can you hit up "Spotify" and set off my playlist?

There was silence, and then...

Right, right, I thought, not exactly concerned at that moment. Hit "shuffle play" on my saved playlist, would you?

Thanks muchly, ADA. Go ahead and run silent again, until-- "Aaargh...!"

I was cut off by the sudden feeling that my veins and arteries were suddenly made of pure lava, and not in a "suddenly powerful" way. No, it was pure pain, unlike anything I'd ever experienced before in my life. As Skillet's "Monster" played in my ears, my back arched reflexively at the overall pain, and though I'm not sure whether or not I screamed, the probability is high that I did. The feeling spread from the blood vessels to my muscles, then my bones, and everything else. If you've ever had the misfortune of feeling any of your bones' growth plates in action, (I usually had it in my shins,) you'll understand a fraction of the pain. Take that persistent ache that lasts all day and night, multiply it by about ten billion, and you'll be close.

In short order, as I began writhing and squirming against the pain, I could feel my bones begin grinding and reshaping themselves, as my muscles rippled and shifted, and my skin burned where it came into contact with my armor. But none of it compared to the splitting agony my head became. It was like untold swarms of red-hot pins and needles were forcing themselves into every square manometer of my flesh, drilling through bone to everything beneath. My eyes were consumed in acid, only to burn even more as my skull wildly reshaped itself according to the whims of the poison within me.

My arms were second in terms of pain, morphing to unknown extents beneath the swiftly-shredding cocoon I was still entrapped in. My legs, already half digitigrade, completed their transformation, and I felt my toes stretch and fuse into deadly talons that would likely make a Jurassic Park Velociraptor jealous. Summoning a fraction of rage through sheer desperation, I focused it into my right hand in an attempt to create a blade of sorts from thin air, by which to cut the cocoon. Not that I needed bother: I soon found myself shredding it with taloned feet, my clawed left hand, and a previously unknown strength.

As I desperately struggled to get upright, I felt the worst change yet begin taking place. The blade I had created, a strangely crystalline structure by any means, suddenly burned in my hand. I couldn't let it go, either. Instead, I felt its hilt begin phasing through my hand as my wrist joint reshaped itself drastically, almost duplicating, even. In moments, the blade was now part of my deformed right arm, embedded in my new "hind-wrist" such that it served as the new primary appendage of the arm. Yet I could still feel my mangled hand against the blade, where it all folded back along my forearm's underside.

The pain faded as I gasped for air, and began taking in my new form. Yeah, it'd been Hordika venom, all right, though it'd had some strange ideas about how it reshaped my helpless body. Yes, there was the semi-standard physical build of the Toa Hordika from the Metru Nui arc, but the mix of mechanical and organic elements was more... I hesitate to say "graceful," because that wouldn't quite work, but there was definitely a sort of sleekness in the meshing of biological and inorganic elements. My armor had even fused itself with my body, though as more of a crude approximation of scales, chitin, and "actual" Hordika armor. I shuddered to think of what my head and face looked like now, given I no longer felt the weight of my helmet, nor could I find a sign of my former HUD.

I stood there, hunched over like the half-animal beast-person I now was, breathing heavily. As I did, I realized two things: first, the music had stopped. Second, I could hear voices in my head. They started out faint, and few in number, but they slowly and inexorably began multiplying and getting louder, until it felt almost like I had an entire city -- no, and entire nation -- shouting to be heard within the confines of my skull. Not trying to get my attention, specifically; it was more like my brainspace was being used as their medium of communication, without any awareness that I was even there.

It wasn't painful, so much as it was distracting, though it all faded to a sort of white noise after a few moments. I had no idea where it all came from, but I was confident I would eventually be able to tune it out completely, much like I had learned to do in my brief stint in retail, blocking out the general chatter of customers and suchlike as I went about my business. After all, they mostly seemed to be going about their own, some with more determination than others. On occasion, there would be a faint ripple in the chatter, as if something was causing a disturbance, but things would quickly settle back in place. Every ripple came from the same approximate "source," as well, which raised a few questions and suspicions.

As I got over the initial shock of the experience, I realized there was a faint sound coming from one corner of my chamber, as of someone -- or some thing, -- scratching against the wall. It was an irregular sound, with a varying kind of pattern to it. There were short and long scratches, pauses, and other scrapes that changed pitch or tone smoothly, as if the source were making smooth curving or looping motions as they worked. Was someone digging? No, no, it felt off. It was almost like Morse code, in a way, but not anything I could "translate"... not that I knew anything in Morse anyway, besides the universal "SOS".

Whatever it was, it was getting annoying. More than it had any right to be for how short a time I had been aware of it. Why was I so sensitive to it, all of a sudden...? I hardly had time to ponder the sentiment before I felt aggravation building within me, and the blade of my right arm was suddenly unlimbered and moving on its own. It plunged, tip-first, into the solid rock flooring of my cell by about a foot and a half, then twisted, cracking the living stone. With a swift jab and a mighty heave, I found myself yanking a massive chunk of floor out of the ground and chucking it surprisingly accurately in the direction of the scratching's source.

The debris crashed against wall and floor, shattering violently and loudly enough to make me flinch: either my hearing had been amped up, or the acoustics of the cell didn't like that kind of sound, because it was way louder than it should've been. Actually, could've been a combination of the two factors, if I'm totally honest.

Whatever the case, I was surprised to hear a sort of echo of the sound in my mind, among the voices in my head, as one voice seemed to recoil in shock and fear, and others scattered across the soundscape suddenly turned their attention towards the sound and the one who had flinched.

"Fuck off, every one 'a ya's...!" I growled, both aloud and mentally. "Get the fuck outta my head: 's crowded enough with just me boppin' about in here, I don't need yer chatter making me mentally deaf, ya hear?"

Many of the voices quieted down at my words, at least briefly. It was quickly replaced by a conglomeration of different sentiments, which generally went along the lines of "Who is/was that?" or "An intruder...? In the hive-mind?" I mostly ignored them, as I had been doing, and briefly reflected on the hope that the source of the scratching had been a rat, or some other sort of indigenous subterranean wildlife, and I'd scared it off, in addition to having scared a potential neighbor in an equally potential next-door chamber. After all, I couldn't be their only prisoner if they were at, or preparing for, war, now could I?

A voice -- unfamiliar, yet somehow more direct than the rest of the ambient chatter in my head, -- spoke to me. It felt like the one I'd startled mere moments earlier.

{You, uh... you alright over there?} The voice asked. {Did something happen?}

In that moment, my mind came to a conclusion or two. First of all, I was pretty sure that the "hive-mind" I'd passingly caught word of in reaction to my rock-throwing was most likely connected to Chrysalis and her 'ling buddies in more than just the literal sense. After all, the Bronies had long theorized of such a thing, but I'd not personally seen any canonical evidence to support either side of the argument... at least, none that I could remember just then. Second, I was somehow connected to this hive-mind as well, which meant there'd been more than just Hordika venom in that Visorak's fangs. It was hard to tell, but looking at my left arm, I could see holes in certain spots that were reminiscent of the changelings' general swiss-cheese look, and they were very out of place on me for sure. Not to mention the normally white armor on my arms now transitioned swiftly to black just shy of my wrists, making it appear as if I'd scorched my hands. Made me begin to wonder just how much else I now had in common with the little buggers...

On top of all that, someone (or something) was trying to communicate with me via my mind. This day just kept getting better...

"No, I'm doing terrible," I said aloud, hoping it would somehow transmit. "Half the room just collapsed on me, and I'm likely bound to die a long, slow, and painful death a la the Monkey King-- OF COURSE I'M FINE! I just chucked a hunk of floor at the wall to still that annoying-ass scratching sound...! Now who the hell are you?"

{Can you, uh, not broadcast across the entire network...? The guards will likely be coming after that...!}

"Look, I got no idea how to use this shit, so I gots no choice. And guards, you say? Heh, well, I'm not worried: I could just kill for a good kebab about now...!" Dear Lord, where was this bloodlust coming from? I unfolded the blade of my right arm, giving a good hard look and hoping it was getting sent out and about, like my words. "If y'all take my meaning, that is! Heh heh heh...!" I paused then, brow furrowing as a realization came to me.

"That shady FUCK! He never told me 'bout the damn moon!"

{W-what?} My newfound brain-chat friend asked, clearly confused.

"I specifically asked that bastard Teridax why Equestria had a moon if there wasn't one after Spherus Magna reformed, and he completely blew off the question, so the bastard's obviously lied to me about the whole thing!"

{Wait, how can you tell...?}

"First off, I forgot the guy does it out of force of habit, 'cuz he's fucking evil. Second, because fucking science and probability say so!" I was pacing the chamber now, not even paying direct attention to my surroundings as I began ranting and gesticulating wildly: my vision had turned inward, to the realm of imagination, as I considered various factors. "There's no freakin' way a perfectly moon-shaped, moon-sized, and otherwise moon-like hunk of space rock came be-boppin' along the perfect trajectory to perfectly intersect the orbit of this planet such that it ended up in a perfect satellite orbit of its own. The odds are literally astronomical!"

{Did you really have to make that pun?}

"I'm serious, the odds are longer than my fuckin' dick--" I had to stop as a section of what I had assumed to be wall suddenly opened quite organically, allowing spears of light to come lancing in and almost blinding me. No, it wasn't some attack, I'd just been in the dark too long.

"Cease and desist, interloper...!" A voice called out, as several armored changelings stepped inside. "However you gained access to the hive-mind, you are to cease doing so and remove yourself from it."

{Uh, y-you should do as they say, if possible...} The lone voice in my head told me.

"Hah, you and what army?" I asked, temporarily setting the mind-voice aside. Before they could answer, I attacked. Not physically, of course, -- I couldn't possibly survive that, not just then -- but mentally. I called to mind the most annoying, bass-boosted, ear-rapey sound I could think of -- this being a modified version of the THX "Deep Note" sound effect, -- then thought the sound as hard, long, and loud as I could.

Fun fact: normally, the volume in one's thoughts is the same, regardless of if you try to "whisper" or "scream" in your own head. Go ahead, try it; I'll give you a moment. There, have fun? Fascinating, moving on. As I was saying, the volume of one's thoughts almost never changes. This time, however, I could actually feel the modified Deep Note shaking my skull. It had to have been worse for the Changelings, however, given the oh-so tough-looking guards were now twitching on the ground, mewling and whingeing pathetically. I laughed at their plight, though through gritted teeth, and kept sustaining the assault.

Sidling past the prone 'lings, I made my way out of the cell and over to the entrance of the next cell-room-chamber-thing. Making quick work of the door, I stuck my head in to get a look at my "friend." Yeah, as expected, the guy was a Changeling, though he looked pretty emaciated. He must not've been fed properly lately. Acting on a rare moment of pity, I scooped the poor thing up under one arm and brought him with as I explored the rest of the hive. Well, I assumed it was a "he," based on my very human perception of various factors of the mental "voice" I'd received from the 'ling's cell's direction.

Honestly, it was kind of amazing how small the guy was, compared to me, and yet, also how large. I'd had my own thoughts as to about how humans and ponies would compare, size-wise, if the two met, though I'd never expected or hoped it would happen. I wasn't too much taller now, far as I could tell, but it was still a bit jarring to see the comparison in person. Not to mention how light he was, either: it was basically like hefting a large, dense stuffed animal, albeit one that had a mostly medium-hard plastic "skin" on the outside instead of fuzz, fabric, or faux fur. He was also squirming a bit, doing his best to paw at his ears.

Frowning, I briefly tried focusing on not sending the maintained Deeper Note his way, and he seemed to relax a bit, though he still bore a demeanor of discomfort. I did what I could to hold him gently, yet firmly, under my arm: I didn't want to pinch or damage his seemingly fragile wings.

"W-where...?" My new companion asked, shakily, still looking like he was fending off a headache.

"I'm getting outta here, come Hell or high water, and I'm takin' ya with me." I said, stepping over a few twitching changelings on the ground. It was honestly not the easiest thing to do, trying to navigate this web of tunnels in the semi-dark, but I could manage.

"Why...why, me?"

"First off, I hate bullies, and you look like someone's been giving you a bad time. Second, I'm pretty sure you can navigate me out.."

"W-we're... in the B-badlands... No towns... For miles..."

"Then we'll fucking walk it or something. Maybe I'll figure out how to fly on the way! Now, which way's out?"

"Uh... back, uh, back a bit then... Aah, h-hang a right..."

"Ah, sweet, thanks." I skidded to a stop, turned and dashed back the way I had come. I quickly returned to a small intersection I'd blown through a few seconds prior, and hung a right as I'd been told. "Alright, keep me posted, new best bud--HRRKH!"

I had been so busy glancing at the guy that I didn't see the arm that popped out of an upcoming intersection and clotheslined me. I definitely felt it when it happened, and when I flipped in midair to land flat on my wings and ass. It hurt. I had no idea where my companion landed, and to make matters worse, my concentration on the Deeper Note had been shattered.

"Well, well, well," Chrysalis said, idly massaging the arm she'd caught me with. "I must commend you on that attack of yours: it was one of the most effective I've seen unleashed upon a hive-mind for ages, though you might consider adding some variation next time. My Changelings were beginning to grow used to the lone sustained sound."

"What d'you mean, next time? Aren't you gonna kick me outta your hive-mind thing? Flay me alive and stick me up on a wall in a weird parody of a crucifixion? Turn me into some kind of semi-conscious love-producing battery or something?"

"No, none of the above: I believe you would be a grand addition to my forces... but first, you must be broken. And believe me, you will be broken, after the shame you brought me before Makuta. I will break you, and I will make you mine, understand? As for you..." Chrysalis turned her gaze to my co-escapee. "I'll deal with you shortly, you useless wretch..."

"Oi! Fuck off, ya cunt! What'd he do wrong?" I exclaimed, once again drawing her attention. As I did, I was sitting upright once more, and managing to get a better look at her than I'd had from my prone position.

To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was being influenced by her weighty presence in the hive-mind I was part of, or if the more bestial nature I possessed (courtesy of the Hordika Venom) had something to do with it, but she suddenly looked kinda hot. Physically, she hadn't changed: that much I knew for sure. But whatever it was, my normally-dormant libido was telling me she was looking totally fuckable, which was highly unusual for me given the fact that I identified as Aro-Ace and wasn't into Ponies of any origin.

And yet... I could use that to my advantage. Barely taking the time to consider the repercussions of my actions, lest I give myself away through the hive-mind, I set my mind to conjuring up a collection of the most outrageously lewd thoughts and images surrounding Chrysalis that I could, and then did my best to blast them directly into her mind via the hive-mind. At the same time, I brought my good hand up in front of my mouth, extended my first two fingers in a "V" shape, and then rapidly flicked my tongue up and down between them as I stared aggressively into her eyes.

Of course, given my lack of control, practice, and acclimation with my access to the Hive-mind, I probably ended up just broadcasting everything all across the entire "network", but I didn't care if I had. Judging by how Chrysalis had recoiled in shock (or disgust, or horror, or all three,) I had provided myself with enough of a distraction to grab the other guy and get lost, so I did so. Not half a second later, I heard a scream of inarticulate rage from behind me as I raced on, and redoubled my efforts. I hadn't gotten far before Chrysalis appeared right in front of me, seizing me violently by the throat and then slamming me against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.

"YOU. ARE. A. MENACE...!" She snarled right in my face as I struggled vainly to get free. Her slitted eyes were mere inches from mine, wild with fury and outrage. "You will learn your place, whelp; you will treat me with the respect I deserve, and live in fear of my wrath...!"

"I... already give your due respect...!" I choked out. "And I'll... never fear you... Bug-bitch...!"

Her eye twitched. "Then I'll teach you to fear me!" She cried, drawing back her free hand, which was already swirling with an eerily familiar reddish energy that I could almost --but not quite -- place. Before I could even react, she had slammed her hand against the center of my chest, and I was pierced by an ungodly chill that left me nearly frozen, yet had nothing to do with temperature. I was more afraid now than ever in my life: my heartbeat screamed in my ears, my vision narrowed until I almost couldn't see, and I could hardly get a coherent thought through my mind.

My body, devoid of any sensible input, did what came naturally: in this case, reverting to the fight-or-flight response all living beings possessed. And I couldn't flee, so apparently the decision was made to try and fight. My right arm, blade and all, brought itself up as high as it could and unfolded to full extension, then snapped back down towards my captor. Before I could connect, she tossed me aside and effectively removed herself from my greater-than-average slashing range.

My blood pounding in my ears, my vision starting to go red, I could feel myself preparing for attack again. It was hard to concentrate, though, given the new and frightful thoughts swarming my mind, born of the devastating fear energy she's flooded me with. Thoughts of oblivion, loss of self, of never getting home or seeing my friends and family again, of falling to my death or being turned into little more than someone's toy... all this and more nearly drowned me out inside my own head. Oh, right, some small, still-rational part of my brain said, more in concepts than real "words," Fear powers... That's a Makuta thing, probably don't wanna take too much more of that, or I'll end up like Jaller did with that Turahk...

I was hardly aware of what was happening beyond the confines of my mind by now, but I could definitely feel myself moving, so I guess I was still alive and fighting? Holding my own, even! No, I told myself, I would not die: I would fight! My vision began clearing, and my fears began turning to rage as I strove, more and more actively, to destroy Chrysalis. I was still enveloped in the fading red energies of her earlier fear blast, and some loopy portion of my mind made an internal callback to Gundam 00...

"Tohranz-Ahmmu...!" I muttered, giving it my best faux-Japanese accent, and charged her, faster than ever before. Not that doing any of it gave me any kind of boost... I tried kicking off the wall to my left and going for a sort of spinning, one-two behind-the-back attack, swiping first with the claws of my left hand and then with my bladed right arm. Both attacks missed, due to some well-executed acrobatics from Chrysalis. As I went in with a lunge at her abdomen, she sidestepped me and grabbed my arm just behind the point where the crystalline portion of it began.

Her hand was now wreathed in purple-black energy, and I almost immediately fell to my knees as I felt all my strength waning. My will to fight, my personal energy, my very life was being sapped...

Vorahk...! I hazily thought, the one clear part of my mind remembering quite well how this other Makuta power had been used in the past. In mere seconds, everything I had was all but gone, and I felt like I was about to pass out.

"Now, you see, don't you?" Chrysalis asked. "Is it not easier to just kneel in the face of such a greater power as I, or my master, Teridax? Does it not feel all the more natural to bow before your betters, your destined masters?"

"Knocking out someone's footing... Is not the same... As them bowing..." I gasped out, trying to stave off unconsciousness.

"Then you truly are a fool," Chrysalis snarled, grabbing me by the back of the neck and dragging my a little ways down the hall. "You. Come with me."

"Y-yes...!" My former fellow escapee said, after having been silent this entire time. I was so tired and drained, I didn't even have enough energy to look at him. My ears still worked, however, and I could hear him sullenly falling into line in Chrysalis' wake as she dragged my limp form down the hallway. I wasn't sure how I was picking up sullenness from the simple clip-clop of the little guy's hooves, but I did nonetheless. Oh, wait, maybe it was something coming over that hive-link-mind thing... damn, I was really gonna have to get used to that, wasn't I?

Hold on, no! I wasn't about to just accept something like that as part of my life! I wasn't part of this hive, and I had no intention of sticking around if I ever caught an opportunity to bug out of this situation. Theoretically useful as it might be in another circumstance, being mentally tethered to these nutjobs was more of a liability than a boon, so the sooner I found a way to cut myself off, the better.

As I internally raged, Chrysalis had been talking, though I caught none of it. I wasn't about to listen to the likes of her after all this.

Moments later, I found myself being flung bodily into the very same cell I'd escaped, only this time, I could see my fellow prisoner -- I was probably going to have to get his name, sooner or later -- wandering in as well. As I mustered what strength I could to try and push myself up, muttering curses to myself the whole while, I saw him turn and take a seated position as he tried to plead or bargain with Chrysalis, to no avail. The door-like apparatus snapped shut between them with an anticlimactic sound, shutting out almost all of the light we'd had, and as it did, I felt the now-ambient buzz of voices in my mind come to an abrupt end, and my mind rang with the silence.

It was almost unbearable... save for the one sorrowful voice that now cried out into the void in shock, terror, and pain. The voice was not my own, thankfully, but if my guess was right, it was more than likely that of my new cellmate, who had given a vocal cry of anguish as well before clapping his forehooves to his temples and flopping over onto the floor. I could vaguely hear his voice in my mind, going on about how terrible the newfound silence was, and I had to chuckle.

Hello, there...! I sent across the mental distance between us, hoping against hope that the Obi-Wan Kenobi voice came across properly. Regardless of if it did or not, I could just see my cellmate's ears and head perking up, swivelling this way and that, before he slowly turned to look at me with his faintly-glowing cyan eyes.

{Y-you...!} He sent back. {Th-this is all your fault! I was two days away from being let out of solitary, and then you... Now I've been cut off from the hive, a punishment reserved for only traitors and the worst violator's of the crown's will! Normally she'd cast the offender from the hive to survive on their own, but I've been left here... with you... and only my own voice in my head to differentiate me from the unlinked lesser folk of the unblighted lands-- o-oh, uh, I didn't...!}

"What, think?" I asked aloud, my tone one of jest, though with a hint of an edge to it. "Course not, it's hard to with zillions of other peoples' voices rattling around in your head. Trust me, as someone who's used to just the one voice, being dragged into your little hive-mind thing was like being teleported from a quiet library to an overcrowded convention center filled entirely with screaming children; 's no wonder you all hang on her every order when she gives them."

"Where do you get off...?" The Changeling demanded aloud in his shock, quickly trailing off. "You would insult our way of life? Our very biology?"

"Breaking news...!" I muttered, still loud enough for him to hear, "pot calls kettle black! But first, the latest on Carol, the water-skiing canary!"

"...sweet Chrysalis, you're insane."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Besides, 'insane' is a relative term. All the brightest minds usually qualify as such, in fact! After all, who else would think to look beyond the 'normal', to push the boundaries of what's known and commonly accepted?"

There was a pause in the conversation. I was pretty sure my night vision getting better, because I actually saw the silhouette of my roommate lift a forehoof as if to accentuate a point, freeze got a moment, then drop it again with twin clicks: one from the hoof coming to rest, the other from the abrupt closing of his mouth as he acknowledged his lack of an argument.

"Besides," I continued, "I never insulted anyone or anything: I just commented that it was loud, from the perspective of someone from my background."

"But... but now, it's too quiet! I can't stand this, this... this silence! It's like an aching void that needs something to fill it, or... or I don't even know what!"

"Oh, dude, big mood; I get where you're coming from, there. I find that music usually helps, if only to have something mostly enjoyable playing softly in the background. Life's generally better with a soundtrack anyways."

"Um..." The Changeling muttered, seeming suddenly unsure of himself. "Music, uh, i-isn't something we do, uh, here. Or, well, anywhere. It's more of a pony thing, honestly? Like, Chrysalis doesn't allow it on a, uh, casual basis..."

"Oh, nonsense; music is a universal language of sorts, capable of transcending cultural and social borders. Every culture I know of has some kind of song or other music to it. You guys just need to find yours." I rapped my knuckles on a patch of ground near me, indicating it to my cellmate. "C'mere, little guy, lemme sing you a song my father always sang to me when he was trying to get me to sleep."

"N-no, I think I'm good..." He protested, scooting back a bit.

"Fine, then, I'll just come over there...!"

"Wait, no, I...!" But it was too late. I'd already scooted over, right up next to him, and put my good arm over his... what were they called, again? Shoulders? Withers? Eh, didn't matter. I rested my left elbow on his "upper" back and used my hand to massage the softer chitin both near his ears and around the base of his fin-mane thing. He resisted at first, hunching his shoulders/withers/forehips and slightly drawing away a bit, but he quickly relented and leaned into the gesture. I almost, but not quite, could've sworn he even started purring.

I took the opportunity to clear my throat, do a couple vocal experiments to test my tonal range (nothing had really changed in my time here, surprisingly...) and then began singing. It was low, and slow, and a bit dirge-like, just as my father had sung the song, as opposed to how it was originally produced. He'd always put a sort of soul into it when he sang, an almost regretful sort of tone that evoked a nostalgic longing for enjoyable events now long past.

♪Far have I traveled... and much have I seen:
Darkest of mountains, and valleys of green.
Vast painted deserts, the sunsets on fire
As they carried me back to... the Mull of Kintyre.♪

I paused for a moment, letting the first verse of the only Wings song I knew off the top of my head begin sinking into my companion's mind. As he turned to look at me, his eyes full of curiosity and intrigue, I found myself closing mine and letting myself go to the rigors of the song. The iconic bagpipe melody played in my mind as I began the chorus, and the song took me by the feels harder than ever before. I thought of my family, my friends, and even a few of my co-workers, all of whom I'd likely never see again. I thought of times past, both good and bad, and of opportunities for the future back home that I'd never see fulfilled. I considered my hopes and dreams, both former and current, and put it all into the song.

By the time I'd come to a close, I found that my voice was hoarse, and that I'd begun crying at some point, but I didn't care. What I did care about was that the Changeling had curled up in my lap, awkwardly, and was apparently concerned for my current emotional state, if the fact that his head was leaned against my torso. With no real plan of action, or any real idea of what to do, I gently yet firmly wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close.

"Hey, kid?" I asked. There was a pause.

"Uh... you mean me?"

"Unless there's someone else in here I should be addressing, that's you...!"

"Um... w-what's up?"

"What's your name?"

There was silence for a tense moment, as he briefly stiffened in my arms.

"My name is... uh, it's M-midge!"

"Midge, huh?" I repeated. "Well, young'un, my name's Caldoric, at least while I'm here, so it's nice to finally make your acquaintance. But hear me well: I will be finding a way out of here for us; I'm not doing too hot here, and you're most definitely not having a good time of it for whatever reason, so you and I, we can escape together."

"Y-you really... why? Why risk everything for someling like me?"

"Because I hate bullies. I swear it all on the moon, and sun, and just about anything else you'd care to name. And may the gods help anyone or anything that gets in my way."

Author's Note

Sorry this one ran long... I'll try to keep things shorter in future, but no promises that I'll be able to actually do that...!

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...To Set Plans in Motion

The Changeling warrior silently made their way into Artaegen's chamber, as sneakily as they could. They were momentarily startled to find the place empty, even though they had most definitely sensed both Artaegen and his assigned "companion" inside mere moments ago. In that moment of confusion, the Changeling failed to see the two glowing orange eyes snap open above the door behind them, or the evil grin that split Artaegen's face.

The Changeling had no warning as the Hordika leapt down from his chosen perch, and it was only through some untold miracle that they avoided getting pounced on. They rolled sideways as Artaegen came down, and there was a brief exchange of blows between them both before Artaegen finally got the upper hand. It was a simple matter after that for him to flip his intruder onto their back and pin them in place. His hand quickly snaked up to grasp the Changeling's curved horn, and the blade of his right arm was pressed against the unfortunate fool's throat.

"So," Artaegen said with a smile, "you're the first. A brave soul, you are, to come at me with no prior knowledge of how I act or anything. Commendable, in many respects. What's your name?"

His captive was silent for a moment, their empty purple eyes glaring up at his. "My name," the Changeling said at last, "is Pharynx. You're a threat to this hive, and to Chrysalis, so I must do everything in my power to remove that threat. It's my duty to do so."

Artaegen nodded. "So you believe, young Pharynx. But I have no ill intentions towards you or the Hive, or even to Chrysalis. Your devotion to defending your kin is most admirable, and it's something that we both share. Perhaps we have even more in common: after all, we're both warriors in her service, so why not work together, instead of being at odds against one another?"

"Because," Pharynx snapped, his wings buzzing slightly in annoyance, "no matter what Chrysalis says to the contrary, you are neither a Changeling nor of this hive, and you never will be. The alliance between her and Makuta was one thing, those spidery, half-changeling abominations were tolerable, and the Rahkshi are nigh uncontrollable! So, you are where I draw the line: I won't let you throw our hive any further into chaos, or draw us any further from our old ways...!"

Artaegen's face fell, and he looked deep into Pharynx's eyes. As he did, he probed lightly into the hive-mind, trying to get a read on his current captive. "...Is that really all it is?" He asked, of no-one in particular. "Are you really so bitter out of sheer loneliness? I feel that you work for your hivemates, but never with them. You isolate yourself from them, bury yourself in your job, but for what reason? Were you bullied in the brooding caverns as a grub, for such things as your differing body colors? Or, perhaps, was it you who was the bully?"

"I was only trying to protect my brother!" Pharynx nearly shouted, ears pinned back as he slammed a forehoof ineffectually against Artaegen's arm. "He was soft, weak, and never bothered to stand up for himself! And then... And then he went and got himself lost -- or worse -- after our hive's failure during Princess Cadence's wedding, and now I worry that--" Pharynx snapped his mouth shut, eyes almost -- but not quite -- threatening to tear up.

Artaegen sat back a bit at that, still straddling Pharynx's torso. He started to take a deep breath, only to stop, sniff at the air, then suck a large volume of air in through his mouth for half a second. As he did, a ragged stream of pinkish energy was briefly drawn from Pharynx before Artaegen snapped his jaw shut with a loud click!

"I... I'm sorry, I dont know what that was..." Artaegen said, holding up his hand defensively, "but I do know for certain that you feel a deep affection for your brother and other kin, even though the latter doesn't seem to reciprocate. Work with me, and we can both achieve what we want. The hive will be defended, and perhaps we can even find your brother."

Pharynx glowered at Artaegen, but didn't seem about to attack now that his horn was free. "Tell me, then: how would you have us defend the hive? Assuming I even believe you..."

Artaegen smiled and spread his arms wide, leaving himself open to Pharynx. "Why, we remove the threat, of course! After all, don't they say that the best defense is a good offensive?"

"It's the other way around, actually... though I understand what you're getting at. Yet, how can I trust you to uphold your end of things? How will working with you benefit me?"

Artaegen chuckled. "I have no reason to be false. I may not be the same as you, but I still serve the same Queen as you, and am part of the same hive, by her grace. She, and the hive, are all I know. As for the benefits... Perhaps we could speak with her 'master,' Teridax. From what I've heard, he made her stronger, so why wouldn't he do the same for you?"

"I fear he may not have the hive's best interests in mind," Pharynx replied. "I don't completely trust him."

"Then we are of one mind. But Chrysalis trusts him; and we, her. Thus, by extension, we must have at least some faith in Teridax."

"So, you suggest that we keep our peace, for now?"

Artaegen nodded. "Yes... but only until a time comes when we are forced to slide a knife in his back. The hive must come before all else, after all. Do we have an accord?" He held his hand forward, invitingly.

Pharynx grinned darkly, then slapped his left forehoof into Artaegen's waiting grasp. "Indeed we do... brother. Spoken like a true Changeling."

"For the hive," they proclaimed together, and with the use of Artaegen's bladed arm, they exchanged blood and shook on it.

"Go on ahead," Artaegen told him, "I'll catch up to you and we can perhaps ask him together..."

"Sounds like a plan," Pharynx replied, "but, uh, you mind getting off my chest first?"

Less than a minute later, Pharynx had left the chamber, a bit more emotionally secure than he'd been in a while. Meanwhile, Artaegen took a moment to glance at an unobtrusive boulder in a nearby corner. "You can show yourself, now. Seriously, what was that pink stuff?"

A pair of teal Changeling eyes opened on the surface of the rock and glared at him. A moment later, a wash of emerald fire revealed it to have been Midge in disguise. "That was Love," he said, scowling slightly, "and for your information, it's considered highly improper to try and take any from another Changeling. I'm surprised he didn't attack you for it."

"Probably cause I'm not a Changeling like you guys? I mean, I'm likely part Changeling, given I could sense and draw on his love like you guys apparently can, but still." Artaegen shrugged, then levelled a claw at Midge. "Hey, that green flame shapeshifty-thing, think you can try teaching me that? Seems like it'd be useful sometime."

~~~~
On some unknown instinct, Artaegen shook himself from his light doze and turned to look at the Changeling pod-thing he had been leaning against. Inside was Pharynx, unconscious, and wrapped lightly in Visorak webbing. Perhaps, Artaegen thought, it's time...?

Not long ago, the two of them had spoken with Makuta, expressing to him their joint intentions: for Pharynx to be allowed into Artaegen's entourage, and for and for Pharynx to be granted better strength and power so he could better protect his home and people. After a moment of silence, Teridax had calmly acquiesced.

Hardly had the word "yes" been said than Pharynx was abruptly ambushed from the shadows by a Visorak: one of Chrysalis' new, unnamed breed, at that. As Artaegen was held helplessly in the Makuta's power, he was forced to watch as Pharynx was stunned, bitten, wrapped in webbing, and then dragged off.

Teridax had then warned him that, due to their admirable levels of devotion, they were both getting off lightly for their seditious talk of a few minutes prior; Pharynx with his life, and Artaegen with the knowledge that he was responsible for Pharynx's imminent condition. Pharynx was then "officially" assigned to work with Artaegen on the upcoming test, and any further excursions he'd possibly be sent out on, until further notice. After that, he was let go and led by another Visorak to a chamber in the Hive, where Pharynx was already being set within a gel-filled chrysalis-pod-capsule thing.

That had been a couple hours ago. Now, Artaegen pressed the palm of his clawed hand against the thing's surface, as well as the top of the strange metal mask that was wrapped around his head. As he watched Pharynx begin to jerk and struggle against the webbing, he wondered at the mask's purpose: he'd been told it was never to be removed, except in special circumstances, but...

He was shaken from his thoughts by the sight of Pharynx beginning to thrash uncontrollably, tearing through the thin film of webbing that held him. His motions were slowed by the gelatinous goo in which he was suspended, but he was still free enough for Artaegen to watch his misfortune in full.

The changes started in Pharynx's torso, his chest slowly expanding until the chitin that encased his body stretched, cracked, and split into individual plates, each reforming into chitinous bits of armor. Across his pectoral region, three large gem-like structures pushed through, each one a deep purple and seemingly filled with an unknown, slowly-shifting fluid. His shoulders pulled back around his ribcage into a position somewhat more befitting of a biped, and a second set of forelimbs were extruded from his torso, just below his existing pair.

As Artaegen watched, the extremities of the four forelegs began shifting, the thick hooves splitting into several jagged, heavily-armored claw-fingered hands. From the outside of each new forearm, twin serrated mandible-like blades protruded, and as the wrists themselves twitched, the individual pairs would briefly shoot forward in what would likely be killing thrusts during combat.

Pharynx's neck didn't change very much, but his head did. His snout lengthened notably, teeth sharpening, and his fangs grew another couple inches. The milky teal of his eyes condensed into proper irises, leaving teal sclera and black, slitted pupils. Once a single smooth curve, his horn became somewhat jagged, sporting several barbs along the inside of its inner curve. His ears morphed into something more pointed and mammalian than the funnel shape they originally possessed. The maroon webbed frill along the back of his neck split in two along its length, making a V-shape that began stretching down the rest of his spinal column.

As the growth persisted, the purple elytral shell that covered his back split like the rest of his body-armor, and the hooked spines that protruded from it began multiplying and rearranging themselves into three alternating columns, such that they might remind a human of Godzilla or Sonic the Hedgehog. His wings doubled in number and grew in size, their generally jagged look becoming harshly exaggerated across their new length, such that they now resembled very spiky dragonfly wings.

His tail was left untouched for the most part, but his hips rocked as they reshaped themselves and the femur joints realigned to a more bipedal format. His legs bulked out, with his hind hooves changing to develop a set of clawed toes to match his new hands.

And as each change took hold, mechanical components began manifesting as already-integrated parts of his body, leaving him with a not-too-dissimilar aesthetic to that of Artaegen, though with a decidedly different theme. For one, a small population of reddish-purple circuitry lines painted themselves across Pharynx's chitinous armor, occasionally glowing of their own volition.

During all this, Artaegen could do nothing but watch as Pharynx gurgled and writhed ineffectually in the pod. And so, as the changes seemed to come to a halt, he decided to do something about it. He drove the bladed portion of his right arm into the pod, completely missing Pharynx, then tore it out sideways. This left a huge gash in the pod, and the fluid in which Pharynx was suspended began gushing out with wild abandon as the pod tore itself apart.

Artaegen was quick to pick up Pharynx, who had finally gone unconscious from the shock of the transformation, and cradled him in his arms. The former changeling was breathing raggedly, shivering and muttering fevered nonsense that suggested he had succumbed to dreams of darkness, loss, and solitude. There was even mention of "his own blood" having abandoned him, and that he had no-one left.

"No, that's not true," Artaegen muttered, only half aware of his words. "You have me. And if you feel abandoned by your own blood, then you have mine to fall back on...!" With that, almost as if he were in a trance, he held his hand out over Pharynx, palm up, then placed the edge of his bladed arm against his palm's heel. For the second time in the last 24 hours, he drew the blade against his flesh and drew blood. This time, however, instead of repeating the process with Pharynx's hoof, he moved his hand over his unconscious companion's open mouth and supported his head with his free arm, then clenched the hand into a fist.

"Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, and dust to dust," He intoned, swaying faintly from side to side as he let a few stray drops of his vitality trickle into Pharynx's welcoming maw. "Claw, talon, bone, and flesh: partake of my blood, of my life, and. That we may be united in our endeavors. Be my strength, as I shall be your sword. Together, in tandem, for long shall it be...!" As he finished, he used his bloodied fingers to draw a symbol on Pharynx's head: the result resembled a simplified gaping mouth with four fangs and a snakelike forked tongue. Upon his own right arm, he drew a spiralling oval that ended in a short squiggly line.

With a few gestures and shapes from his left hand, a pulse of dark energy was sent thrumming throughout the cavern, and Pharynx arched his back violently with a gasp, his eyes snapping open and glowing briefly purple.

~~~~
(Elsewhere in the hive...)

Teridax, busy working on one of his countless projects, suddenly stood bolt upright as he felt a surge of energy from nearby in the hive. His head and body snapped around, instantly pinpointing the exact direction in which the surge's source lay, his eyes unfocused as he looked beyond the physical and into the realm of shadows.

What he saw, and felt, concerned him, though not overmuch. The "flavor" of the surge was from an experimental branch of dark magic he'd toyed with during his early forays into the overarching concept of "Dark Magic," one he'd had to invent himself. It had all stemmed from his initial observations of purely organic lifeforms in eons past that had displayed the ability to utilize natural energies. Given they had lacked the same "biology" as his biomechanical fellows, he became quite curious both as to how they lived, and how they died.

He'd foolishly believed, at first, that their blood was the source of their powers, just as it seemed to sustain their life energies. He wasn't exactly wrong, in the end, but he hadn't been right, either. As it turned out, blood had a power all its own when properly utilized. A focus here, a catalyst or bundle of ingredients there, along with the right combination of words and symbols, and who knew what would happen?

In the end, he found it mostly boiled down to the caster's intent, their will, and an according sacrifice: given the latter usually involved at least a little of the caster's blood, Teridax had quickly hit a wall through which he could not break, even with living subjects taking his place in performing the "rituals" he'd devised. He was pure energy inside a metal construct, and had no blood of his own to "sacrifice".

That said, once true intelligence had taken hold amongst the biological races, and magic-wielders who chose a life of darker study stumbled across his early works, progress slowly started being made...

Teridax snapped out of his brief flashback -- when had he started having those? -- and resumed focusing on the source of the dark powers that had just rattled the hive. At its center was Artaegen, holding the limp form of what was likely to be Pharynx. With hardly a thought, Teridax set his current project down and literally melted into the shadows, reappearing in the same chamber as Artaegen. He silently loomed over the two figures, and waited...

~~~~
"You remember your mission...?"

"Yessir!" Pharynx snapped, giving a crisp salute with one of his new arms.

Makuta looked over at Artaegen, his gaze heavy enough to imply a raised eyebrow. Artaegen, in turn, looked away with a sullen "Yeah, yeah, I remember... Sir..." Makuta nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. Now, go...!" With that, Makuta waved his scythelike staff, and two masses of shadow crawled up the wall of the hive's central cavern. Through one, a mass of various Visorak surged, disappearing through the shadowy portal. As the last Visorak vanished through it, that mass of shadow dissolved. Taking their cue, Artaegen and Pharynx led their contingent of Visorak and Changelings into and through the second mass of shadow, suddenly finding themselves in the shadowy cargo hold of what appeared to be some kind of large boat.

From the decks above, those present could hear the sounds of combat and shrieking Visorak. Some of the spiders around Artaegen and Pharynx shifted uneasily, itching to join their brethren in the "hunt" upstairs. Even a few of the Changelings were showing they were of a similar mind.

{C'mon, lemme get a bit of that action...!} Pharynx's voice said, privately, in the back of Artaegen's mind. {Just a little bit...!}

No, we stick to the plan, Artaegen shot back. He then turned to the beings around him, and pointed to a larger Visorak-esque creature that had tagged along with them. "You, Kahgarak: stay here. Hide yourself to the best of your ability, until further notice. A couple of you Chanarak stick around too, in case Chrysalis has orders for you to relay. The rest of you, spread out and secure a path to the objectives for us. Keep it clear, but be discreet. No sneaking off to fight upstairs, and no stopping for 'snacks'. Break!"

With that, all the figures began scuttling off as silently as they could to infiltrate the rest of the ship's bowels. Artaegen and Pharynx made their way through the halls, accompanied by a handful of Visorak and Changelings, slaying or disabling any opposition in their way. In short order, they had arrived at what some might consider one of the ship's most vulnerable locations; a boiler room. They had all seen the occasional pipe weaving its way along the ceiling or the edges of the floors in the corridors, and all the pipes led back here.

"So, how do we do this?" One of the Changelings with them asked. Pharynx sank two fists into two opposing hands, implying something violent, but Artaegen was first to speak.

"Very carefully," the draconic Hordika stated, stroking the chin of the mask engaging his head. "Careful application of force will serve us better here than mere blind smashing."

"So we just bang up the boilers a bit, let out the steam...?"

Artaegen rounded on the unfortunate speaker. "No! You don't. Fuck. With live steam." He growled, enunciating each word carefully. He didn't know how he knew that, but he wasn't about to tell them that... "And you never just breach a boiler. You ever see a pressure cooker fail? No? Well, then, ever see a balloon pop? Yeah, well, it's like that, except higher pressures and shards of hot metal flying everywhere. And that's not counting the steam itself, which'd boil you alive in your chitin and KILL you faster than you could feel the pain. So yeah, go ahead and pop that tank, if you insist, but wait till we're all at least five miles out.

"See, the whole setup is like a heart and blood vessels. The feeder pipes are like arteries: sever one, and you get high-pressure fluid scouring the flesh from your bones faster than anything and leaving you as little more than a warm pink mist. The return pipes are like veins: lower pressure water headed back to the boilers to be reheated, going at a mere trickle compared to the steam, yet still potentially hot enough to scald your flesh deep beneath the skin layer. And all of this exists in a perpetual balance, fragile and easily destabilized. Too much or too little pressure, and it all comes undone.

"Thus, the whole system -- in its way, -- is very much alive, and as such must be treated almost like a lady, and one of high nobility at that: with great care and attention, lest you be slain without even realizing you've done something to offend."

"What, like Chrysalis...?" Another Changeling asked, and there was some snickering.

Pharynx looked about ready to murder someone, but Artaegen surprised him by briefly tilting his head to one side with a shrug. "Eh, true," the latter said, "but to be fair, she does have to deal with you little shits on the daily, so it makes sense." Pharynx abruptly snorted with suppressed laughter.

"You got that right," he admitted, as the others merely glared. "So, what do we do here? How do we disable this shit for long enough?"

Artaegen squinted at the steam machinery around them all, ignoring the few dead crew scattered around the room. As he did, he vaguely whispered to himself as the fingers of his left hand subconsciously twitched. After a few seconds, he gestured to the pipes on the ceiling and spoke again. "Those are the feeders, I reckon. Ones on the bottom should be returns, then, fulla water. We sever those -- carefully...! -- and the whole system should empty out, leaving these guys stuck here for a while as we bail. Once the pressure in the system's dropped a bit, we can also probably break the feeders."

As if to lead by example, he lifted his bladed arm to strike at a pipe near the wall, paused a moment, changed the angle of his strike, then swung. The pipe severed easily, spraying water around at an angle due to the slanted cut. The breached pipe had not separated cleanly, thus sending a jet of scalding water to briefly bathe the lower part of Artaegen's left leg in its wrath. He staggered over to a wall, against which he leaned as he clutched at the affected limb.

There were a few cries of concern from the Changelings and Visorak, and Pharynx said his name, but Artaegen just waved them off. "No, you fools...!" He spat through clenched teeth, his temper flaring. He gestured violently at the equipment they were meant to be wrecking "Don't worry about me, just finish all that shit off...! Open the drain taps and stuff, too!"

Shortly, the floor was covered in a deepening layer of uncomfortably heated water and a clutter of broken pipes. As Artaegen watched them work, the searing length of pain that his leg had become was starting to get less painful, but only gradually. As it lessened, it left an uncomfortable tingle behind, akin to when one's leg has fallen asleep and is slowly "waking up" again.

{You doing alright?} Pharynx asked, privately. {That can't've been good on your leg... You sure you'll be able to carry out the rest of the mission?}

I'll be fine... I'll just have to limp a bit. Artaegen replied. Listen up, this water's gonna be a nuisance, lemme just... He then repeatedly plunged his bladed right arm into the wooden floor, and the excess water began draining. Soon enough, the overhead pipes had been dismantled as well, and they were ready to move on. Except...

"Artaegen, what're you doing?" Pharynx asked, hanging back while his companion stood staring at the dead crew around the room. Without responding, Artaegen lurched over to one of the bodies and picked it up by its matted, dripping mane.

"Let this be an omen," he said, distractedly, "a sign of what's to come; a storm of fire and darkness that awaits to raze you and your fragile kingdom to its roots, and beyond. The ashes left behind shall form the foundation of the new order, and your survivors will be the backbone of our master's reign of shadows..." With that, he opened the doors to the boilers' fireboxes and began chucking bodies in. When he'd finished, he turned to see Pharynx looking intently at him with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

"Gotta admit, that was pretty dark," Pharynx stated with a shrug, then smirked. "But definitely fair, and very well-said."

"Let's just go," Artaegen replied, limping on his still-uncomfortable leg. "Go on ahead and secure the target for me, will you? I'll be along shortly." Pharynx nodded and hurried off through the halls. All was going according to plan, roughly.

When Artaegen arrived at his destination, a large cabin most likely intended for a VIP of sorts, he heard scuffling inside. He looked inside to see Pharynx in the process of putting the room's sole pony inhabitant -- a unicorn mare -- into some sort of four-armed full-body wrestling lock. Her coat was the rich, dark-ish green of a conifer, and her mane and tail were dark enough that it was hard to tell their exact color in the dimly illuminated room. For all Artaegen knew, they could've been black.

Soon, Pharynx had the pony fully restrained, held bodily in midair from behind. His upper arms were configured in a modified Full Nelson; his upper left arm was stretched across her chest with the claws clamped in the elbow of his upper right arm, while that arm's claws were locked around her horn so he could keep her throat compressed over his left upper arm. Both of the mare's forelegs were splayed out as a result, unable to move. Her hind legs were in a similar condition, with Pharynx's lower set of arms snaked across the inner thighs and then behind his own hips. Her mouth was held shut with a glob of greenish resin, which had holes to let her breathe.

All in all, out of context, it looked like quite the compromising position. She was even struggling, valiantly, though to no effect. Pharynx, however, was busy pulling a thin stream of pink energy from her, and neither of them noticed Artaegen watching from the hall.

This won't do... he thought to himself, and set his hood over his head before walking into the room. As he did, he allowed his limp to become more pronounced, in hopes of adding to the menacing, mysterious act.

"Pharynx, you maniac...!" He groused, hiding a smirk as he startled them both. "Stop playing about and put her down. We have business here...!" He then sent his companion a mental ping, instructing him to play along. At the same time, he pinged Chrysalis to update her on the situation and get some appropriate info.

Pharynx, silently acknowledging Artaegen's message, put on a show of grumbling dissent and bathed his captive's horn in resin using his tongue. She shuddered at the touch, and he set her down gently.

"Hello, Reinesfell..." Artaegen said, his tone more conversational now. Nonetheless, the mare glared at him accusingly. "Oh, dear, don't be like that...! You should rejoice, for we come in peace, burdened merely with the glorious purpose of facilitating communication."

The one he'd called "Reinesfell," a name he'd been supplied by Chrysalis, scoffed at his words and turned to look away. She muttered something incoherent through her resin muzzle, which sounded like it was intended to be rude. Pharynx moved slightly towards her, itching to act, but Artaegen waved him off over the hive-mind. He then gently hooked a clawed finger under her chin, turning her head to look at him once more. As they locked gazes, Artaegen's finger gave a tug on the edge of the impromptu gag, and it shattered.

Reinesfell gasped sharply, then spoke. "I'll not deal with the likes of you barbarians," she declared harshly. "Though I'll admit, this was an unexpectedly drastic move for Celestia, and far sooner than anticipated."

Artaegen gave a sharp bark of laughter. "No, no, we're not affiliated with her. Our ultimate master has noticed your actions of late, and is impressed with your ambition. He is aware you wish to do what you feel is best for your people, and wishes to assist you in that matter. In return, however, he would ask that you do the same for him, lending your support in his grand endeavors. He appreciates ambition, Empress, and is more than willing to reward those who bend such drive to his leadership."

Reinesfell narrowed her eyes. "Who, exactly, is this so-called 'master' you speak of? And who are you?"

Artaegen smiled, and Pharynx spoke. "Perhaps we should let him introduce himself...?" Artaegen looked at him for the briefest second, shared a curt nod, and they both stepped back from Reinesfell. The few other occupants followed their lead.

Before Reinesfell had a chance to say more than a simple "What?", her shadow abruptly became far darker than ever before, and she seemed to fall through the solid flooring in less than a second. Once she'd disappeared, the shadow portal rendered itself into nonexistence, leaving the room quiet. The Changelings were also already preoccupied with tidying things up a bit, mainly making sure that the lanterns that had been disturbed wouldn't end up causing a fire.

"I thought I said no snacking, brother..." Artaegen said, turning to face his fellow Hordika. "So what was that about...?"

"First off," Pharynx said, leveling a finger at Artaegen, "I don't necessarily have to take orders from you: I'm only doing it now as a courtesy." Artaegen scoffed, but let him continue. "Secondly, even though we 'lings can get an idea of a subject's state of being just from tasting their love, some of us are connoisseurs of the stuff, and can get a rough guesstimate of their love by smell alone. I am among those few."

"What are you getting at...?" Artaegen asked, making a rolling motion with his hand, even though he suddenly didn't like where he thought the conversation was going. He started walking towards the exit, beckoning to Pharynx.

Pharynx gave a predatory grin as he followed. "Well, lemme put it this way: I think she's secretly a sub, and in denial about it to boot." Artaegen cringed and inwardly groaned, but Pharynx pressed on. "Honestly, if the flavor of her love was anything to judge by, she was partially enjoying the experience, and it would've been a waste of rather potent love if--"

"Look, Pharynx, this is honestly one aspect of Changeling society or whatever that I'd rather not hear about right now..." Artaegen said, cutting him off.

"Oh? Never figured you for a prude. Or is that frustration I'm smelling...?"

Pharynx came to an abrupt stop, hands up in surrender, as he suddenly found the pointed end of Artaegen's bladed arm suddenly under his throat.

"Drop. It." Artaegen commanded, locking eyes with Pharynx as best he could in the relative darkness. The Changeling shuddered as a chill, which had nothing to do with cold or a sense of intimidation, ran down his spine.

"Y-yes, sir...!" He said, his voice cracking uncharacteristically. Artaegen snorted and gave a curt nod, then turned away and flipped up the hood of his cloak as he stormed up the stairs.

Artaegen, for his part, was busy trying to focus on anything but the information Pharynx had just been trying to feed him. As it so happened, he realized that the sounds of fighting had died down on the upper decks, to which the stairs were leading him. Cautiously, he brought himself to a position to observe what was transpiring.

Scattered across the decks were the bodies of Visorak and ponies, dead and dying alike on both sides, with a small cluster of living ponies gathered off to one side around a larger, more unusually-formed creature. As Artaegen watched, and Pharynx stepped up to look over his shoulder, one of the larger figure's forelimbs shot out and wrapped around the neck of a Pony that looked scraggy and seemed to be half shark. Another Hordika...! Artaegen thought, briefly sharing a look with Pharynx that indicated he was thinking the same thing. They weren't sure how they knew it to be true, but they were certain that they weren't wrong. Their attention was drawn back as the unnamed Pony-Hordika before them lifted the Shark-Pony into the air with her one arm.

"Am I alright?" She demanded, clearly aggravated, and her voice cascaded down through ta few octaves. “AM I ALRIGHT!?... DO I LOOK LIKE I AM ALRIGHT TO YOU, RIVER DWELLER!?-”

Acting on a whim, Artaegen pushed Pharynx aside, stepping out into plain sight and cutting the Hordika off. He made sure his cloak was securely wrapped around himself as he did, and played up the nearly-gone limp as well, all for dramatic effect. “Fit enough to be killed, I reckon...!” He said, gathering the attention of everyone around. The unknown Hordika whipper her head around to glare at him, then seemed to come to their senses as they realized they were strangling an apparent compatriot and gently set them down.

They all watched as Artaegen limped the short distance to a handrail at the deck's port (or left) edge, and as he set his hand down upon it, two of the group's members suddenly flinched. One was a pretty unremarkable Pony, with a grayish-brown coat and a black mane/tail combo: overall, she looked rather upper crust, and didn't seem too important just then. The other being, however... They were bipedal, maybe about as tall as Artaegen would be if he were to stand upright.

It took a moment, bit Artaegen was able to size the latter being up pretty quickly. He couldn't identify their species, but in his eyes, the closest thing was a Minotaur, albeit an especially scrawny one with no body fur and unusual legs.

The creature was wearing a loose tunic of sorts, which came down to their knees. It covered their unremarkable leggings for the most part, but Artaegen could see the stranger was also wearing some kind of footwear. On top of this, he picked up on several things that suggested they weren't exactly up to snuff: The semi-cloak they wore to conceal the left side of their body was a dead giveaway that something had happened to that arm.

Judging by the way the cloak moved in the wind, the arm was either in a sling, being held behind the back, or completely missing from the shoulder or so. The wind blew the blackish-brown hair on their head about as well, revealing a series of bloodied bandages wrapped around that side of their face, focused mostly around the eye. In short, the figure looked like they’d been through hell, and still needed to let off some steam from the ordeal.

They were also splattered with Visorak viscera, and were holding a sword that was being licked clean of gore by idle flames as he watched. Obviously, this being was one to watch, preferably from a distance.

Having seen all he needed to make a decision, Artaegen made his move. He made a show of looking around at the deck, as if taking in the dead Visorak for the first time, and spoke up again.

"Seriously? You killed everything up here?! Gah, he’ll have my ass for this for sure!" Artaegen turned to address the crowd of Visorak and Changelings that had silently gathered around him. "Visorak! Let your hearts hold no mercy! We’ve no time for prisoners here: slay the lot, and let their worthless 'gods' sort them out! 'Lings, los Gehts; the rest of you have fun…!"

At this, the Visorak surged forward to ensure at least some kind of dramatic outcome. Meanwhile, the Changelings were taking off in various directions, either to escape or provide covering fire with weaponized spells, and Artaegen prepared to vault the handrail. As he looked around to see if he was clear, he caught sight of Pharynx, who himself looked about ready to start wading into the thick of things. "Pharynx, no dawdling!" He shouted, garnering his compatriot's attention.

“But I smell a royal guard…!” The larger figure growled, gesturing with a couple arms over the chaos towards the other Hordika. “One I’ve smelled before, and I'm hungry! I wanna drain 'er!”

There was a massive explosion from somewhere below decks that rattled the entire ship, throwing the defending forces to the ground and almost dislodging Artaegen from his perch. “No time, Pharynx! We gotta move!” With that, he jumped off the edge and began flying off. Any Pegasi who tried to fly after him were either blasted by lingering Changelings or hit with Visorak spinners.

A minute or so later, Pharynx showed up in rough formation with Artaegen. {So,} the Changeling Hordika began, {that went well.} Artaegen glared silently at him, then idly took note of a flock of birds that had started flying near them. They were crows, specifically, and the V-formation they were in was a little too orderly for his liking, but he let it go for now.

We could have done better, Artaegen replied, shaking his head. If only we knew more about his specific intent for this mission, perhaps we could've planned a bit better. Besides, what did he want with her of all ponies? I know what I was told to tell her, but that doesn't mean anything...

{It's not our place to know,} Pharynx countered. {We're just here to follow orders, not understand them. Speaking of, what's the next stage, Artaegen?}

That depends: where are the rest of the Changelings we were sent with?

Pharynx jerked his head back over one shoulder, in the approximate direction of the crows. {Right there. I mean, we usually fly in disguise like that to avoid detection by the ponies. Otherwise, how'd we ever get anywhere?}

Teleportation? After all, you can all do magic, can't you? Artaegen looked over at his companion with a smug grin on his face.

{Not on that level, we can't. Otherwise, the wedding invasion would've... LOOK OUT!}

Pharynx abruptly tackled Artaegen out of the air, knocking him out of the way as a Pegasus came diving through the spot where they'd just been. Glints of metal indicated the pony had been trying to spear one or both of them with some sort of blades. Looking around, the pair found several other Pegasi around them, all equipped with blades on their wings and forelegs. As they all hovered there, the two Hordika found themselves surrounded.

"Surrender quietly, or you will be slain where you are for your crimes!" One of the Pegasi demanded. "You are outnumbered, and hold no chance of fighting your way out!"

Artaegen gave the briefest upward glance, noting that the crow-disguised Changelings were circling cautiously overhead as they requested orders. A more obvious look to the side revealed Pharynx giving him a look of his own, asking the same question.

{How d'you wanna do this...?}

Artaegen was briefly inclined to order the changelings above to fly down, drop their disguises, and out-surround the pegasi... But there weren't enough of them to do so effectively: he had to thin the herd, first. And then, he had an idea. With a grin at Pharynx, Artaegen mentally told him to follow his lean, then gave a single upward surge of wingpower. Rising slightly from the motion, Artaegen then allowed himself to drop like a stone. Pharynx followed suit, and the Pegasi and crows dove to try and catch up with them.

As Artaegen casually fell, he ignored the hard-to-hear cries of the pegasi to cease his madness, choosing instead to address Pharynx and the other Changelings long enough to give a rough explanation of his plan. The Changelings, still disguised as crows, pulled back from their pursuit a bit, but Pharynx made himself more aerodynamic to get closer to Artaegen. At the same time, Artaegen performed an almost graceful pike maneuver in midair so that he was facing perfectly downward.

The ground was getting steadily closer...

{Now...?} Pharynx asked, nervously.

No. Artaegen replied, his cloak fluttering around him as he spread his wings just enough to keep from spinning.

{Now...?}

No.

{NOW...?!} Artaegen didn't respond. {...}

...on my mark, Artaegen finally replied, flare and pull away, in:

3...

2...

1...

NOW!!!

Pharynx's unique partially-insectoid biology gave him an advantage in pulling such a sharp turn, so he managed to get off quite unscathed, even with the decidedly late warning. Artaegen, however, had to pull off a bit sooner, and he barely managed to avoid colliding with the ground at terminal velocity. The Pegasi weren't so lucky: even with some of them pulling out of the suicidal dive early, a good 3/5 of their number was dashed against the stony ground.

"Hah! Now it's aces high as darkness rises!" Artaegen shouted, hovering momentarily, then made a slashing gesture with his bladed arm. "Sic 'em, boys!"

With that, the Changelings shed their disguises in bursts of green fire, then began to fall upon the former attack party, with Pharynx and Artaegen joining in in short order. The ensuing fight was bloody and short-lived, with the Changelings using their ability to shapeshift natural weapons anywhere on their bodies to great effect. It ended with Artaegen seizing the last surviving Pegasus by the throat, then descending the short distance to the ground and holding the unfortunate mare aloft.

{What d'you want us to do with her?} Pharynx asked, eager to drain her of love with the slightest sign of permission.

No, leave her be, Artaegen sent back, I have a better use for this one. He then turned his attention to his struggling captive.

"You will deliver a message for us." He told her, and she promptly spat on his metal mask.

"Like Tartarus I will!" She croaked, only for Artaegen to squeeze her throat that much tighter.

"You and yours have been chosen to reveal our existence to the world," Artaegen said, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "You, who have born witness to the events of this day, shall speak of it all later. For we are the Hand of Makuta, and we rise only to smash you ponies --and other such worthless trash-- into the dirt where you belong. From here on, do not expect us to be so lenient: you will all kneel before us and our ultimate master, filled with fear and trembling, or be made to perish from this world on a level far beyond just the physical."

"You... will... be stopped...!" She choked. "Th-the Elements... of Harmony--"

"Are of no concern to either of us in this moment. Besides, shouldn't you be more worried about your VIP aboard that ship...?" The wide-eyed look she gave Artaegen told him he'd struck a nerve. "Good, good... Now fly, little pupa...! Fly, like her life depended on it!" With that, he tossed her bodily into the air and guffawed as she struggled to fly away.

{Target practice...?} Pharynx asked slyly, already charging up a spell alongside several other Changelings.

"No, let her go: She's more valuable as she is. Let them be the ones to spread terror amongst themselves, instead of us having to do it ourselves; it makes out job easier."

Pharynx nodded. "Alright, well, speaking of which... What's next? Where are we off to now?"

"I wasn't told what to do next, beside report in. That is S.O.P., isn't it?"

"Mhm. You're learning well, it looks like."

"So then we find somewhere secluded, use the beetles to report and possibly receive further orders." Artaegen declared, and they all underwent a quick search for an applicable space.

Author's Note

Hello again...! So, it seems things are getting a bit dark, aren't they? Stay tuned to see what happens next, and make sure to check out the other story in this setting, "When Legends Rise" by Nova_Blast for the other side of things! (I know I posted a link to it somewhere already... Was it on the title page?)

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Echoes of a Fallen Shadow

Pharynx shivered heavily and hunched his shoulders, hugging his wings to his back as he did. "By Chrysalis' mane, that's cold...!"

There was a chuckle from behind him as Artaegen stepped through the shadow-portal, followed by their supporting band of Changelings. "Of course it's cold," he snarked, shuddering as well under his cloak, "it's the Frozen North. It's kinda called that for a reason." He gestured to the snowy wasteland around them.

"No, shithead, I meant that damn portal...!" Pharynx snapped back. "The snow is something I can handle with a simple glamour, same as the rest of our kind. But whatever it is that that Makuta character does to send us Chrysalis-knows-where, it's colder!"

"True," Artaegen replied, as those around him took up snow-adapted forms in flashes of green fire. "Part of me wonders about that... I mean, it likely has something to do with Makuta's Shadow powers in some way, and given that there's a correlation between light and heat, well..."

"Nerd...!" Pharynx declared, and erupted into green flame as well. When it dissipated, he looked like a weird combination of a Kangaroo and a Goat, covered in shaggy fur. If there'd been any humans in the area, they would likely have dubbed it a "Tauntaun," though there were discreet differences. For one, the arms were longer and more functional on this creature, and there were also four of them.

"Well...?" The creature demanded, cocking its head. "You gonna throw up a glamour too? Or are you just going to stand there?"

"I still have no idea if I can, let alone how I'd go about trying to do it," Artaegen replied. "Mind if I get a ride...?"

The not-Tauntaun glared at him briefly, then shrugged. "Sure, hop on." And with that, they were off.

~~~~
"So, they believe the target should be somewhere buried in the snow outside the warmer portions of the Crystal Empire, yes?"

"Yep."

"And they have no idea where, exactly, it'd be?"

"Not beyond 'The Western side of the Empire,' as we were told."

"That's still a lot of ground to cover: it could mean the entire Western half of the border, from its northernmost to southernmost points, or it could be just a quarter of the place's total diameter."

"We'll find it: we just have to be persistent..."

Pharynx huffed mightily in disbelief, sending a small plume of steamy breath into the air, where it collided with the snowbank he and Artaegen were crouched behind. The former took a second to peer around at the central portion of the Crystal Empire, with its green fields and unnatural spring-summer warmth, then pulled back.

"At least the others seem to be having fun," he spat, still seeming to be slightly affected by the temperature. For indeed, their Changeling companions were disguised as arctic foxes that were busy "frolicking" in the snow, which allowed them to freely search the snow for the buried item Makuta and Chrysalis had set them the task of finding.

"Honestly, it's worse than trying to find a needle in a haystack...!" Pharynx continued. "This is chump gruntwork: why are we the ones on this project anyway? Why can't we be out attacking something, or seizing some arbitrary location with 'tactical value' or whatever?"

"I'm sorry, Nubs McShouty, but you've been with Chrysalis longer than me, and suddenly you're questioning her orders?" Artaegen asked, turning to him.

"No, I'm questioning Makuta's logistical planning on this. I may have concerns as to our Queen's judgement in trusting him, but I do not question her orders." Pharynx glared at Artaegen. "And what was that about 'Nubs McShouty'?"

"About what now?"

"Oh, come on, you just called me that! What's it supposed to mean?"

"No idea..." Artaegen said, then trailed off as his eyes unfocused. He stood and turned his unseeing gaze towards a particular portion of the Changeling search party, paused for a moment, then suddenly took flight towards them.

"Oh, what now?" Pharynx asked, following after.

Artaegen landed hard, then started digging frantically, throwing up a few startled foxes and great plumes of powdery snow. This quickly garnered the attention of the other Changelings, who began to gather around and watch.

"Artaegen!" Pharynx called, to no response. "Artaegen, what the buzz are you doing? We're supposed to be--"

Artaegen suddenly stopped digging, instead thrusting his clenched fist into the air as the snow settled. In his grasp was something that bore a wicked curve and a sharp point, fading from dark grey at its base to a brilliant orange at its tip. Pharynx mistook it for a knife or fang at first, then realized what it was.

"Sombra's horn...!" He murmured, stunned. "We've found it...!"

Earlier, when they'd reported in from their former location, Makuta had told them what they would be looking for in great detail, even going so far as to show them a holographic image of the dark relic in question. According to him, it had been dislodged from Sombra's being after he had attempted an assault on the newly-returned kingdom. Thanks to the combined efforts of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, Prince Shining Armor, and a certain baby dragon, Sombra had been thoroughly curbstomped at the last second, leaving the Crystal Empire a place of light and hope.

What Makuta wanted with the horn was unclear, for the moment. All they knew was that they were supposed to retrieve it. Unfortunately, from what Pharynx could tell, something seemed to have come over Artaegen without warning. As he went to get Artaegen's attention, the semi-draconic figure suddenly cackled with mad delight and took off, straight upwards. Pharynx followed without hesitation, trailing him in what quickly became a ballistic arc, high over the kingdom.

As Artaegen came straight down, he seemed almost dead set on splattering himself against the bottom slope of the castle, only to swerve at the last second and come to a screeching halt through a window of the topmost room. Pharynx was hot on his heels, and to his relief, none of the ponies far below seemed to have noticed their intrusion.

As Pharynx took in his surroundings, Artaegen was already dashing madly down a set of spiral stairs and into the castle at large. When Pharynx followed, he found two things. First, the stairs entered into an unimaginably vast and featureless white void, the only contents of which was the staircase itself, curling down and to the right around a single central pillar. The second thing he found was that Artaegen had just jumped off the stairs, choosing instead to fly down to wherever he was going. Pharynx had no choice but to follow suit if he wanted to keep up with him.

"Artaegen!" He called, his voice sounding strangely muted in the strangely extradimensional space. "Artaegen, get back here! We need to report in, and... Curse it all, will you slow down?!"

There was a door at the bottom of the stairs, seemingly leading inside the pillar, which Artaegen was quick to kick open with gusto. Pharynx was only able to catch a glimpse of Artaegen's brief stumble as he stepped through, before the latter suddenly shook himself and dashed to the right. Pharynx was quick to discover that there was another staircase inside the hollow pillar, curving back the way they'd just come. He also caught up to Artaegen quite swiftly, seeing as he'd come to a stop pressed against some kind of ceiling.

"I'm so close, now," Artaegen muttered, like a man possessed, "close to the power...!"

"Artaegen, seriously, what're you doing? This is madness...! Come back with me, and--!"

He had no chance to finish as Artaegen suddenly reared back with the horn, held point-first like a Karambit, and stabbed at the ceiling with it. As Pharynx protested, Artaegen struck twice, thrice more, and then a spiderweb of cracks radiated across the ceiling from the point of impact. Less than a second later, it disintegrated and collapsed down the stairway, and Artaegen surged up the now unobstructed stairs and into a new room. The two of them glanced around for the briefest of moments before Artaegen took wing again, this time alighting upon the back of a large thronelike structure at the near end of the chamber.

"Anger among them will threaten their precious Unity..." Artaegen mused, while Pharynx watched in dismay at his antics. Artaegen slit the pad of one of his fingers on his bladed right arm, and began drawing something unseen upon the large crystal at the throne's apex. The whole thing was made almost exclusively of several large, bluish-green crystals, save for two that made up the structure's centerline, which were lavender. It was the taller of these upon which he scrawled. "Hunger will consume their Duty. And Fear..."

Artaegen paused, raising the inverted horn in his hand, and Pharynx could have sworn he saw a handful of blood droplets begin to rise from the crystalline surface, almost as if they were being pulled against gravity itself.

"...will keep them from their Destiny!" Artaegen proclaimed triumphantly, then plunged the tip of Sombra's horn into the surface of the crystal.

KRRRRRRRRACK!!!

Pharynx flinched at the sound of Sombra's horn striking the crystalline throne, and then his jaw hit the floor as he saw what happened next. A large crack ran the length of the throne's twin-crystal "spine", then spread in a crazed web through the rest of it. Abruptly, all but the two lavender crystals turned to so much semi-precious gravel. Artaegen smiled broadly as he pulled the unscathed horn from its resting place, and began striding over to Pharynx. He didn't get far.

What was left of the throne -- now little more than a pillar of two lavender crystals -- suddenly turned a deep purple, and a shockwave of dark energy pulsed from it and spread across the room. It sent the two Hordika staggering, and left their guard down. A second later, it began writhing with the familiar mass of black lightning and purple-and-green bubbles that signified dark magic, only for twin beams of energy to lance forth and strike both figures square in the chest. They were blasted to opposing sides of the room, held against the walls as the dark magic poured into them.

They were held there for a long time, squirming in pain with their eyes clamped shut, so they missed the transformation of the castle around them, and its subsequent reversion. Finally, mercifully, they were allowed to fall to the floor, gasping for breath as the energy dissipated at long last.

Artaegen was the first to recover his faculties. "Wh... What happened...?" He asked, groggily. "Where are we? Weren't we just... Why are we...? Is this the castle?!" He turned to Pharynx. "Dude, what in Tartarus are we doing here?! We need to..." He trailed off as he felt something inside him unlock, but not in a physical sense. It was more like a sudden upsurging of energy, something that practically crackled at the fingertips and left him feel like he was vibrating.

Without a thought, he felt gravity shift, and he floated up into the air, only to be set unsteadily on his feet before he could protest.

Pharynx rose to his feet as well, albeit much slower, and by more conventional methods. "What... Whaddaya mean, 'where are we'? You're the one who led me on a wild goose chase through an open window and through the castle via some weird-flank set of stairs that doesn't seem to pass through this room like it should..."

"You're not making sense," Artaegen noted, and yawned. "Gods above, this whole thing is such a drag... Oh, hey!" He had spotted Sombra's horn, lying on the floor where he'd dropped it earlier. "We got the horn, mission accomplished! Let's get back, eh...?"

"What the buck is wrong with you...?" Pharynx groaned at him, not looking for an answer. "Seriously, why did I throw my lot in with you in the first place..." Nonetheless, he jerked a claw at the hole in the floor.

"Yeah, wazzup with that...?" Artaegen wondered aloud. "Seems like a workplace hazard to have that there, if you ask me..."

Pharynx merely facepalmed. "You dingus, that's how we got in here...! Just-- argh, follow me, and we'll high-tail it outta here...!" Artaegen groaned in frustration, but complied as Pharynx quickly led the way down. Of course, when Artaegen got to the bottom of the stairs and looked through the door to see even more stairs, he balked slightly. When he leaned out into the white space to see exactly how many stairs there were, he almost completely gave up.

"By the gods...!" He cursed as he began doggedly sprinting up the steps. "So many stairs! I'd like to find whoever invented the stairs, and push him down these stairs, just to show him how stupid stairs are!"

"Artaegen..."

"Then, his legs will be broken, and he will no longer be able to climb stairs any more!"

"Artaegen!"

"It'll be ironic, and then his wife will leave him and go be with the guy who invented the elevator, because everyone knows that elevators are much sexier than stairs, and oh gods I'm not even close to being at the top yet-- WHY ARE THERE SO MANY STAIRS?!?"

"ARTAEGEN!!!"

"WHAAA-HA-HA-HAAAAT...?!?!" Artaegen complained, coming to a stop.

"...We can fly, dumbass!"

Artaegen paused, blinking for a couple of seconds, then his brain kicked back into action. "Oh, yeah... But still, flying that high is gonna be such a pain!" He looked up, and noted the smooth underside of the stairwell. "If only I could just flip upside down and use that as a slide..."

No sooner had he spoken than he was engulfed in a gentle field of purple energy, and he suddenly felt gravity turn upside-down. He "fell" up and collided with the underside of the stairs and began sliding headlong towards the top of the stairway.

"Oh, what in Tartarus...?" Pharynx asked, of no-one in particular, then flew up to try and catch up with his swiftly-vanishing companion.

When Artaegen left the top of the stairs, he was once again enveloped in purple energy, and he crashed down to the floor with a groan of pain. "Fuuuuuuuck..." He muttered.

Pharynx was quick to show up after that. He crouched upon landing, panting heavily. "Alright, seriously, what the buck was that...?!" He demanded after he'd caught his breath. He then got up, seizing Artaegen and lifting him upright, bodily. His lower arms were supporting Artaegen under the armpits, while his upper arms held his head clamped such that he was staring straight into Pharynx's eyes.

The former Changeling's face briefly contorted in a snarl, then his mouth opened as he let loose a hiss. Before either of them knew what was happening, Pharynx began to inhale deeply, and as he drew the ambient air into his mouth, something else came with it. A swirling haze of green and orange energy particles was extracted from Artaegen, shot through with a thin stream of pink flamelike love energy, and it all condensed into an orb of ultraviolet light the size of a small marble. This orb floated just inside Pharynx's mouth, above his tongue as it slowly began growing.

Artaegen shuddered, gave strangled cry of "No!" and then planted his shin firmly in Pharynx's groin. This shattered whatever concentration the latter figure had, causing his mouth to snap shut as he grimaced. The energy he'd extracted dissipated into the air, lost.

Pharynx let go of Artaegen, who dropped like a puppet with cut strings. They both stayed like that for a minute, breathing heavily. Pharynx had a hand over his face, staring off into the distance with a range of emotions washing over him as he tried to figure out what had just happened. At long last, Artaegen finally got himself up on his elbows and looked over at Pharynx.

"Hey," he began, then coughed a couple times. "Hey, bro... You good?"

"Am I... good?" Pharynx asked, his attention settling on Artaegen. "You just had who-knows-what happen to you, and you're worried about my wellbeing?"

"I'll just take that as a yes, then." Artaegen said, smiling. Pharynx gave a snort of laughter, a smile finding its way to his face as well, and then they both broke down into peals of laughter.

When they'd finished, Pharynx walked over to Artaegen and helped him up. "C'mon," he said, still smiling slightly, "we should get outta here while we still can."

"That would be wise," Artaegen replied with a chuckle.

~~~~
Teridax was troubled by what he had seen.

Through various convoluted means, he'd been keeping an eye on the excursion in the northernmost territories of Equestria, and had been privy to everything that had transpired. He'd felt a small measure of satisfaction when they'd uncovered the horn, despite Artaegen's abruptly strange behavior of the moment. After that, events had taken him on the closest thing he'd had to an emotional rollercoaster since his second attempt to claim the Mask of Time...

Teridax shook his head. Now was not the time to be losing himself in past excursions. Whatever Artaegen had done -- or been made to do -- to the throne, the backlash had awoken abilities within both of the Hordika in the room. Abilities that had apparently lain dormant within them ever since their transformations: ones they should not have had in the first place.

Artaegen's slow, yet seemingly unnatural healing after his leg had been blasted by scalding water; the aura of burgundy energy that sprung up around the remains of Sombra's former throne after the room had been vacated by the Hordika; the field of purplish energy that had altered Artaegen's unexpectedly inverted personal gravity as he returned to Teridax's sight at the top of the castle; Pharynx suddenly starting to drain Artaegen of his vital energy... All of these were powers that were almost completely exclusive to Makuta. Only Teridax -- and now Chrysalis -- should have access to them.

Wait.

Teridax blinked, letting his vision fade into the middle distance as he thought. There was a connection between the Hordika, and it was more than just the burst of energy in the Crystal Empire. They had both been injected with Hordika venom that came from modified Visorak. Visorak that had been modified by Chrysalis herself, after he'd tutored her in the uses of Energized Protodermis and the specialized "viruses" his kind had made use of all those years ago. Who knew what else she'd introduced to the Rahi's genetic makeup while she'd been unsupervised...

He would have to confront her for her borderline treasonous actions at a later date, he decided. For now, Teridax would watch, and wait, acting only when the opportune moment arrived. And watch, he did, as Pharynx snagged an unfortunate crystal unicorn at the outskirts of the city surrounding the castle. The pony, who Teridax only saw as little more than a very intelligent Rahi at the best of times, was then drained of just about everything they had to offer: their magic, their strength, and any energy that could be derived from their emotional state.

The pony was left shriveled and weakened by the ordeal, nearly dead, but unable to give chase or report anything until they recovered, which would be unlikely. The Hordika, however, shared an uneasy glance as they stood over the sickly figure, only to turn and run off, eventually meeting with their contingent of concerned Changelings. In a few moments' time, they had begun preparations to call in, so Teridax prepared his metaphorical game face.

~~~~
(Some time later...)

"...And you still haven't figured out how to work a glamour?" Pharynx asked Artaegen as the stepped through yet another shadow portal. After the incident in the Crystal Empire, they'd received a dressing-down from Makuta and Chrysalis, and had then spent the next day and a half hopping across the Northeastern portion of Equestria via shadow portals. Artaegen had expressed that he'd had an increased feeling that he "needed" to be somewhere in that general area, and soon, though nobody could figure out why.

Strangely enough, Makuta had been more than willing to send them on their way, claiming that -- with Artaegen's full abilities being an unknown -- it wouldn't hurt to test out his "feelings" for their validity and usefulness to his plan. Thus, the duo found themselves wandering the wilderness of Northeastern Equestria, a fair distance from any known points of civilization. Every time, they'd spend a few minutes scouting around as Artaegen's senses got some sort of "bearings", and he'd dreamily proclaim that they'd gotten closer to, or farther from, whatever he was being drawn towards.

Artaegen shook his head. "Nah. Glamours haven't exactly been high on my priority list of late, and even then, we haven't really had time for me to practice the... art of it, as it were."

"Yeah we have!" Pharynx persisted. "These last couple days've been a perfect opportunity to try."

"And we spent 'em on practicing those other powers we developed...!" Artaegen shot back, quietly. To emphasize his point, he curled the clawed fingers of his hand, allowing a field of purple energy to briefly waver there. They'd figured out that it somehow pertained to gravity, yet was entirely different from how magic usually worked. Meanwhile, Pharynx had refined his control over his new energy-draining ability, so he could limit what things he drained from a target, and how much of it he took. He'd also found that he could create sparks of electricity between his hands, but hadn't been able to do much more than that. Then again, the sparks grew stronger by the day, so there was no telling what he could do with them in time. "We got no idea where they came from, or how long they'll last, so we gotta make use of 'em while we can."

"You still need to figure out if you can pull off a glamour," Pharynx complained. "Anyway, you feeling anything about this place yet?"

Artaegen paused, blinking in the semi-darkness, turning his head this way and that. "Nah," he said at last, "nothing ye--" His words abruptly cut off, and his head turned to the left.

"What...?" Pharynx asked, curious. It'd been like this the last couple times, but not nearly as soon after they'd stepped through the portal.

"That way. Couple miles, at best." Artaegen mechanically lifted one arm and pointed in the approximate direction he was facing, then began walking off on that heading.

"Uh, can't we just portal over there?"

"No, it's best to walk."

Pharynx rolled his eyes, then looked over to their "honor guard" with disdain. "C'mon, you lot, you heard him. Let's get moving."

Some time later, the two Hordika were positioned on a hill overlooking a small town. It was somewhat like those old cowboy-era towns that sprung up around roads heading West, with houses and other buildings lined up on either side. This place, however, was different: all the buildings were exactly the same, and the "road" pretty much dead-ended in the front yard of a singular house whose front was set such that it could look down the entire stretch of road, theoretically keeping an eye on the inhabitants. There was something eerily off about the place, enough to freak out even the battle-hardened Changelings in their company.

Pharynx looked over at Artaegen, who was in turn staring intently at the mini-town. He noted how, behind the strange metal mask covering Artaegen's face, his eyes glowed. It was unusual, in his opinion, even though a Changeling's eyes normally glowed as well. Not nearly as bright as Artaegen's, of course; a Changeling's eyes were more on par with weak bioluminescence, or a glow-in-the-dark object that'd worn out its "charge" for the night, while it was almost as if a lightbulb lay behind Artaegen's. Pharynx was momentarily distracted in wondering how his own looked, nowadays... until he realized something about Artaegen.

His eyes usually consisted of a field of brilliant red-orange with a single dot -- each -- of bright yellow-orange that darted this way and that to indicate which way he was looking with either eye. The dot widened and narrowed in the same way that the inner rim of a normal eye's iris would to let in more or less light, based on the circumstances. Now, however... those brighter points of light in Artaegen's eyes were more of a lime green than a yellow-orange, and some of that color had slightly leaked into the glowing "sclera" of his eyes, turning the afflicted regions a more emerald color.

"Bro?" Pharynx asked, starting to get concerned. "You good?"

Artaegen blinked, and just like that, some sort of metaphorical spell seemed to have been broken. The green tinge had retreated from Artaegen's gaze in an instant, gone without a trace. "Hmm? What?" Artaegen asked, quickly.

"Uh, I was curious what you were thinking. About the townlet." Pharynx ducked his head, feeling uncharacteristically awkward for a moment. Just then, his belly grumbled.

"Didn't you literally just eat?" Artaegen asked, smiling. "Anywho, about the town... yeah, it gives me he heebie-jeebies. 's freakin' wierd."

"Well, no shit," Pharynx snapped. "I meant, what are you planning? We gonna nab the ponies down there as hostages or something?" At this, Artaegen merely shot him a look that suggested he was being stupid.

"Our objective... I think it's that house." Artaegen pointed at the lone house at the end of the road, the one overlooking the front porches of all the others. "I say we go 'round the back, avoid showing ourselves in the middle of town where the inhabitants can spot us."

Pharynx raised an eyebrow, not sure if the action was visible in the poor lighting. "You think it's that house? Or do you know it is?"

"Look, just... I have a feeling, alright? Trust me: what we're looking for is over there." Artaegen got up into a crouch, and began moving down the side of the hill as stealthily as possible. Pharynx rolled his eyes, but followed nonetheless.

~~~~
Starlight Glimmer was just getting comfortable in her bed when she heard a knocking sound from downstairs. She groaned to herself in response, rolling her eyes as she snuggled deeper under the covers. If one of her townsponies needed help with something, they should know well enough to bother her in the morning, when she'd had time to prepare herself for the day, instead of after she'd settled in for the night.

The knocking came again, louder and more deliberate this time. Starlight sat up and glared at her bedroom door, as if it were the one responsible for the disturbance. "Seriously," she wondered aloud, "what the heck is their problem? What's so important that they can't wait 'till tomorrow?" She decided she'd quickly go answer the door, if only to keep whoever it was from waking the rest of the town in their excitement. Throwing on a bathrobe to hide her unconcealed cutie mark, she descended to the ground floor, and was slightly disturbed to hear the knocking turn to several loud and forceful thuds, each spaced about a second apart.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" She nearly shouted, uncharacteristically letting a bit of aggravation slip into her voice. "Keep your tail on!" She then paused, realizing that the knocking had come from her house's back door, not from the front. What the heck? Why would anypony be knocking at the back door, even at this time of night?

She opened the back door to reveal a Unicorn stallion, hoof raised to knock again. He wasn't beefy in the slightest, so Starlight was unsure how he'd knocked so hard that last time, but that wasn't exactly an important matter just then. What mattered was the fact that the stallion at her door was, simply by looks alone, a stereotypical "edgy bastard." He had a coat of black fur, a dark reddish mane, a stern gaze, heterochromic eyes (one teal, one purple) and his cutie mark... It was a sword crossed over three different-colored interlinked hexagons, each with dripping edges. The hexagons were red, bright green, and purple.

She also didn't recognize him as one of her villagers, which was even more concerning.

"Uh... Hey there, stranger!" She said, doing her best to plaster a cheerful expression on her face, but the attempt was sidetracked as the stranger forced his way past her without a word. "Wh... hey! You can't just barge your way in here like that!"

The stranger turned to look at her, almost disinterestedly. "We need to talk," he said, sitting down with a very matter-of-fact attitude.

"Oh, yeah we do!" Starlight shot back, her frustration growing. "Where do you get the gall to--""

"I did not mean 'you and I' when I said 'we'." The stranger interrupted. "I meant 'me and him'." His gaze flicked behind her, and he jerked his chin in the same general direction. Starlight's head snapped around in time to see a four-digited claw, like that of an owl, thrusting forward to close around her neck. Before she could react, she had been lifted bodily by the owner of the clawed hand, who was just now stepping in through the door.

Starlight was having a hard time breathing, so screaming in horror at the monstrous figure before her was out of the question, let alone trying to call for help.

"I'm terribly sorry for this," the cloaked figure said, his voice slightly muffled and distorted by the metallic mask that covered his entire head. Nonetheless, his words were gentle, having no malice in them."I know we've never met, you and I, but we most urgently need to speak. Know this: we mean you no harm, but I must ask that you not try to call attention to our presence here for the time being. Do we have an accord, young mage?"

Author's Note

Ok, seriously, I get Starlight Glimmer and Sunset Shimmer confused way too easily: their names are far too similar. Sunset, Twilight, & Starlight; Glimmer, Shimmer, and Sparkle... Way to say the same name three different times, Hasbro! We get it, they're all very powerful and likely would have all turned out similarly to Twilight under Celestia's full tutelage, but still!

Thanks to the user named "Who Cares" (in the comments below) for pointing out my error.

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Preparations, Plans, and Traps

Teridax reflected upon his recent conversation with Reinesfell. The operation to establish initial contact with the mare had been, for the most part, successful: his underlings had located their target without issue, he'd had enough time to extend at least a minor invitation for her to join his forces, and she had been returned to her ship without anyone, pony or not, realizing she'd even left. In fact, Artaegen and Pharynx had ingeniously managed to buy Teridax extra time with which to speak to the mare, as well as ensuring their own escape.

The only drawback, of course, had been the mare herself.

Reinesfell, as it turned out, was either very stubborn, very prideful, or highly xenophobic. Or maybe, Teridax considered, she might be a combination of all three. In fact, it would be even better for him if she was. After all, it merely meant she was that much easier to manipulate. Teridax had had eons of practice in convincing beings with millennia of experience under their belt to do his bidding, one way or another. As such, a mere pony who was hardly into her double-digits would present almost no challenge to begin with.

These inferior, more ephemeral beings only needed a slight push to get going, it turned out. One just had to come from the right angle...

~~~~
(A few days prior, in Teridax's sanctum:)

Reinesfell landed in darkness, after having been pulled through a shadow by what might as well have been otherworldly forces. She got to her hooves, glaring about into the darkness, but she was obviously unable to see anything.

Teridax, however, could see just fine. He may not have been in the same place as her, but his powers allowed him to view her as if he were right there with her, and that suited him just fine. Utilizing his mastery over darkness, illusions, and the like, he began to speak to her.

"Reinesfell..." He said, his words cold and haunting. In response, the comparatively young empress perked up and began glancing about in fear.

"H-hello...?" She asked, taking several steps backward.

"Reinesfell...!" He said again, slower and more insistently.

"Alright, this isn't funny!" Reinesfell spat, garnering her courage once more, even if it was really a show of false bravado. "I order you, as Empress of Heimutia, to reveal yourself! I will not be made to suffer foalish prankery in clichéd darkness...!" She began carefully moving around, blindly sweeping an available foreleg ahead of herself to stave off bumping into anything. Her efforts were in vain, however, for she banged headfirst into a high-set overhang of some kind, causing her to let out a sharp grunt of pain.

Internally, she cursed the coating of resin on her horn, for it seemed to completely neutralize her ability to cast any sort of spell whatsoever.

"And yet," Makuta's voice replied from the inky shadows, "is it not said that a being's true character is revealed by darkness? As such, that begs the question; who are you in the dark, young one?" He used his power over illusion to create a pair of large, glowing red eyes in the darkness; long, thing, and angularly slanted they were, as they swooped through the shadows towards Reinesfell, throwing off a small bit of reddish light into the area around them.

"Whoever you are, knave, your filly-fooling illusions do not scare me one iota." Now that she had something to focus her attentions on, Reinesfell stood confidently, glaring accusingly into the artificial gaze.

Makuta gave a slow, hearty chuckle. "Reinesfell, know this: even these darkest shadows of my own creation could hope to hide your fear. Or the truth..."

"Truth? What truth?" Reinesfell demanded, even stomping a hoof for emphasis. "Answer me!"

"That your dreams of empirical expansion and conquest are all for naught. Empires rise and fall like the ocean tides, kingdoms crumble from within, and this? This thing you are attempting, which I believe you call a 'Reich'? They hardly even get that far." The glowing eyes glided closer to her. "And you know it...!"

"That's what you believe!" The Kaiserin snapped back. "But I have my reasons for trying, and the drive, the determination to pull it off...!"

"I am old enough to have seen entire civilizations rise and fall in their entirely, whelp. Yours is no different: successful or not, it will fade with time, as all things do."

"So maybe I fail. Or maybe I succeed, only for it to fall apart later. Either way, I'll have done right by my citizens. And there will always be somepony to succeed me if I fall."

"So you believe. But even so, your ambitions would bear fruit only from the branches of a single tree in the end. And yet, if your plans were aligned with my vision and mind, a veritable orchard would be at your people's disposal. Work with me, assist me in achieving my goals, and you will find that your own endeavors to be blessed with success. Deny me, and you might just find tragedy following in your wake."

Reinesfell shook her head vehemently. "I refuse your offer, and deny you your threat. Any achievement towards my goals that is made not by my own hooves will be hollow, and a liability for my own standing among my ponies. Outsourcing progress in any manner means I would be failing them."

"You fail them all the more by refusing me, Kaiserin." Makuta said, his voice disturbingly low and level. "Bend yourself to my design, and your nation, your people, will be spared. Protected, even."

"No! I will never bend so much as a single blade of grass to your will, interloper. Especially not to someone who won't even identify themselves, let alone do me the courtesy of showing me their face."

"Our time grows short. You will be returned, with time to reconsider your decision before next we speak. I advise that you take the time to do so."

And with that, tendrils of dark energy abruptly seized Reinesfell and began dragging her through a shadow portal in the floor. There was barely time for her to let the ghost of a surprised cry ring out before she was gone. Teridax sighed in response and let the ambient darkness return to a less oppressive state.

"So... my goodwill refused, once again. How disappointing: I expected better of you, Kaiserin. And yet, it seems that all the ponies are good for in an emergency are three things. Freezing up, fleeing in absolute terror, and -- rarely,-- they stand and fight.""

~~~~
(Now)

Teridax smiled internally. She would be easy to manipulate, indeed. Those eager to protect others always were, no matter how stubborn they might be. And Teridax had an idea as to what -- or rather, whom, -- he could use to leverage her into agreeing to his terms. As for when he'd reestablish contact?

Well, that would come soon enough...

~~~~
("Our Town," Northern Equestria)

Starlight was terrified beyond belief. Never, in all her years of study, had she seen, read, or heard of anything hinting at the existence of such a monstrosity as the creature that currently had her by the throat. In desperation, she sent a look at the stallion standing idly in her home. It bore a mixed message, partly pleading and partly accusatory. The nameless stallion, who had been looking idly at one hoof, caught her look and raised an eyebrow in seeming confusion.

The monster that held her caught the look too, briefly glancing between the two of them, and then a lightbulb seemed to go off. He chuckled and turned to the stallion. "Hey, dude," he said, "I think she wants you to help her out."

The stallion's eyebrows furrowed, and he began idly looking at his hoof again. "Oh, come on. Why would I--" He suddenly cut himself off mid-sentence as something seemed to click in his mind, and he facehooved. "Right, right, sometimes I forget..."

Without warning, the stallion was engulfed in emerald fire, which grew to nearly reach the room's ceiling before dissipating. What was left was not a charred corpse, however. Instead, by Starlight's reckoning, it was something far worse.

Where there had been a stallion, there was now the large four-armed bulk of something even more monstrous than the being that had her by the throat.

"You know," the new monster said, "one of the drawbacks to being a shapeshifter is that you sometimes forget what shape you're in. Honestly, it can be fatal sometimes."

"I'll have to take your word for it," the monster holding Starlight replied. "I'm beginning to doubt I inherited the ability..."

Starlight's vision was starting to get hazy, and she was beginning to feel like she was losing fine motor control over her extremities. She must've made a sound then, or done something else to garner the monster's attention, because he suddenly turned to look at her with mild interest.

"Oh... My apologies, miss..." The stranger said, loosening his grip a bit. Starlight gasped mightily as sweet, life-giving air began to flow more freely into her lungs. "That matter aside, I'd like you to explain a few things; namely, about this small township thing you got going on here, and what's so special about it. But most of all, I'm curious as to why I was drawn not just to this village, but to your house in particular, and from the better part of a continent away at that."

His tone was, for the most part, gentle and curious, with accents of excitement and the general anticipation of something coming to a climax after a long wait. With this in mind, Starlight reasoned it was probably best to give them the information they seemingly wanted as soon as possible... At least, as much as she felt they really needed to know without jeopardizing her little project while it was still at its roots.

"A-alright," she choked out, her throat still sore, "b-but it's easier to... show you... than tell..."

~~~~
"...What is all this?" Artaegen asked, staring in amazement at the cave's far wall. What looked like dozens of small screens were arrayed across its surface, almost all of them displaying a colorful and unique symbol that meant little to either of the Hordika.

"They're cutie marks!" Starlight explained, gesturing to them with a foreleg. "They used to belong to the other inhabitants of the village, but -- with their permission and cooperation -- I safely and harmlessly removed them, making each of the townsponies no more or less special than the next. Everypony's equal...!"

"Wait, how is that possible?" Pharynx demanded. "I thought those were part of a pony's soul, appearing only as a manifestation of their special talent, not as a core part of it!"

"Wait, I'm confused," Artaegen interjected as he turned to Pharynx. "What's a cutie mark?"

"'s the symbol that was on her flanks," Pharynx answered, nodding at Starlight, "before she covered them both up with that makeup stuff. Seriously, what's the deal with that? Why an equals-sign?"

"Why, to show that everypony's equal, of course...!" Starlight said, brightly.

"Then why d'you still have yours?" Artaegen asked, concerned, and Pharynx voiced agreement with the sentiment.

"Well, ok, that's a bit complicated," Starlight began, her smile cracking a bit as a hint of nervousness began to slip through. "See, I'm rather talented with magic, and it takes a fair level of skill to use this--" she used her magic to hoist a long bit of wood that had been leaning against the wall of the cave, bringing it closer to the trio, "--with any great accuracy. This is the Staff of Sameness, an artifact of great power whose history I won't bore you with, and as useful as it is, it does slightly affect the minds of those on whom it is used. It makes them friendly and more cooperative, yes, but it also renders their intelligence and mental capacity to be equal with everypony else; as such, if I used it on myself, I would lose all ability to spread the virtue of Equality to the rest of Equestria, and them the world beyond! Of course, once that's done, I'll use it on myself to make it all fair."

"It looks like a wooden tuning fork," Artaegen remarked. "But, like with a really long handle..."

"It's supposed to be a giant equals-sign...!" Starlight snapped, thudding the bottom end of the Staff against the cave floor. "Seriously, haven't you seen a Staff of Power before? They always have some sort of thematic element to them that matches and indicates their general purpose!"

"Alright, alright...!" Pharynx interjected, stepping between the two. "Regardless, I still get the feeling this is gonna blow up in your face once you get outside Equestria, if not sooner."

"Oh, and how's that?" Starlight demanded, cockily.

"Creatures like Dragons, Minotaurs, and Changelings don't have cutie marks that you can remove."

There was silence for several seconds as Starlight's face fell, her eyes unfocused as she considered that thought. "Huh," she said at last, "hadn't considered that... Nevertheless, the spell should work just fine on any creature, of my calculations are correct. I'll still be needing s couple of test subjects, though...!" By this time, she'd developed a malicious grin, and moved to point the Staff at the two of them.

Artaegen and Pharynx hardly had to share a glance as they instinctively synched their counterattack across their mental link. Pharynx moved first, firing a large and sticky glob of Changeling resin from his mouth so that it collided squarely with Starlight's forehead, completely coating her horn and cutting off her magic.

Artaegen, for his part, quickly slashed his palm against the bladed end of his right arm to draw blood, then flung his hand forward as part of the same motion. "G'rah-Visho!" He spat, as the fires of dark magic burned in his eyes. Small tendrils of blood surged from his palm, kept pace with by waves of gravitic energy, and both met with the Staff of Sameness before it had a chance to fall more than half an inch. The Staff surged back to Artaegen's waiting grasp as Pharynx lunged forward and tackled Starlight, ending the small skirmish.

"Honestly," Artaegen said, pointing the business end of the staff at Starlight as he came closer to her prone form, "did you really think we'd-- hold up, what?" He turned to look at the staff, which felt dead and empty in his grasp, though he was unconsciously trying to pour power into it. "What is this...?" He snarled.

Starlight, with Pharynx snarling dangerously close to her throat, chuckled nervously. "Ok, so, I lied about the staff... I'm actually the one who came up with the spell; what you're holding is a bit of random wood I found lying around, interesting as it looks."

"Yeah, you definitely had us fooled..." Artaegen muttered, and idly began squeezing his hand tighter around the useless wood, which began to flex and creak ominously in his grasp.

"Wait, no, I need that...!" Starlight nearly shrieked. "Everything will unravel if you break it!"

"Not my problem."

Without warning, Starlight reared her head back and concentrated as much energy as she could, then snapped her head forward and shattered the resin coating around her horn like it was glass. Pharynx was sent flying as a result, and Starlight scrambled to her hooves.

"Arretje," Artaegen said, hand already outstretched, and a pulse of maroon energy shot along the fake staff's length, then arced into Starlight's chest. The energy blossomed across her form, surrounding her body until she was entirely encased in the stuff, hovering in midair.

"Nice!" Pharynx said, getting up. "What spell was that?"

"Spell? I dunno," Artaegen replied, cautiously stepping out of Starlight's original trajectory, "it didn't feel like a spell to me. It felt... well, it felt more like when I do the Gravity thing, you know? Like, doesn't it feel different for you when you do the suck-y thing you do now? Or the Lightning thing?"

"Well, yeah, but you're holding her in midair, like when we Changelings weave a kinesis spell to pick up something. Or somepony. Besides, I've seen plenty of non-pony races using magic of their own. Take dragons for example: they channel magic through their fire breath and wings. Diamond dogs are notorious for their digging skills, which are magically enhanced. And other races have more indirect methods, usually involving the use of verbal, somatic, or even material components to achieve an effect. Take Zebras, for an extreme example. Their shamans and wisefolk rely on potions and what some ponies refer to as mystic mumbo-jumbo, voodoo or hoodoo, yet I've seen results unmatched by any Unicorn or Alicorn to date."

"Yeah, but this feels like something else," Artaegen continued, unconvinced. He turned to stare at Starlight, only to note that not only had she floated forward several inches, but she had slowly been turning her head to track his movements, her expression still in the glacial process of changing to one of shock and confusion. "Whoa... it's like she's slowed down."

"Yeah, she's practically a sitting duck. And speaking of Lightning..." Pharynx held out his right hands, idly bouncing a bolt of electricity between them. "Should we kill her?"

Artaegen looked at him, then turned to gaze at Starlight for a couple seconds. "Nah," he said at last, "I like her. For whatever reason, she's bound and determined to reduce the entire of ponykind to a single, exploitable level of mediocrity, and entirely of her own volition. She's better off left to her own devices, methinks. After all, I'm certain our ultimate master would approve of this whole operation..."

Pharynx gave him a Look. "I still think we should call this in, at the very least..." He cautioned, holding up two small ebony statuettes carved in the shape of a generic beetle. Artaegen smiled and held up his own pair of stony beetles.

"I was just considering the idea myself," he replied, and they both set their beetles into position. In short order, the magically-enhanced objects had created a visual interface by which they might contact Chrysalis. It was the same means they had used to achieve a more precise line of communication with the Hive, given the distance limitations of their shared mental link: in human programming terms, as the distance increased beyond a certain point, packet dropoff started getting exponentially worse.

"So, you've finally decided to report in, I see..." Chrysalis remarked, once the connection had been established. "Tell me, have you found anything yet? I can only assume that that's why you missed your previously-scheduled check-in, rather than sheer incompetence...?"

"Chrysalis, m'lady..." Artaegen began, "have you ever heard of any creature being able to remove a pony’s Cutie Mark?"

Chrysalis, who had previously been idly examining the clawlike fingernails of her left hand, suddenly stiffened and looked at Artaegen directly. "That shouldn't be physically possible."

"Oh, but it is..." Artaegen replied, his manic grin stretching wider than ever as he gestured to the scene behind him.

~~~~
"You are a FOOL, Artaegen!"

The ill-fated Hordika was swatted unceremoniously out of the space where he had been standing a mere moment ago, sent flying by the force of the swing behind Makuta's strange, scythelike staff.

"Do not use your presumed interpretations of my opinion on a matter as justification for anything so rash ever again, or it will be the last thing you do! Do I make myself clear?!"

Artaegen, winded and half buried in a wall of the chamber, merely nodded vigorously. He was half conscious and fighting desperately to regain the breath that had been knocked from him at the blow.

"And you," Makuta continued, rounding on Pharynx, "I would have expected you to know better than to allow such a blatant disregard for information security, among other things! The both of you nearly jeopardized this entire operation before it had ever truly begun! And yet..." He trailed off, leaving both Artaegen and Pharynx to fear for the worst.

"And yet, you have both served the plan well these last few days, despite your shortcomings. In fact, young Starlight Glimmer might prove an invaluable asset to us if she were to join us. And so, the two of you shall live... for now. To think, however, that a simple Unicorn mare such as herself might succeed where I could not, all those eons ago, it astounds me. Perhaps spite is a much more motivating force than even I realized...?"

"S-spite... Sir...?" Artaegen wheezed, finally getting some of his air back.

"Let us say I have certain insights into the inner workings of Equestrian phycology, gleaned from thousands of years of research on the subject, and leave it at that," Makuta said, turning back to the chamber's central stone table, upon which the magically-produced hologram of a city could be made out. Pharynx was quick to make note of this, garnering Makuta's attention.

"This image is of a city in the Northeast corner of Equestria," he explained to the two Hordika, "known as Manehattan. It is a massive collection of civilian lives the likes of which this world once only knew in its southern hemisphere, before..." He trailed off, and waved his battered right arm dismissively.

"And wh-what d'you intend to... do with it...?" Artaegen asked, staggering over after having extricated himself from the wall. As Makuta turned to look at him, he saw Artaegen taking in a lungful of air, which caused his partially-collapsed chest to abruptly pop back into place, and they both winced at the sound it made.

"Ignoring that," Makuta said, making a mental note that Artaegen had apparently inherited some kind of healing ability from his transformation, "I intend to use Manehattan as a means by which to send a message. For centuries, the Ponies have lived in relative peace, and their nationwide defense capabilities are sorely lacking as a result."

"So you intend to smash the city, yes? Kill everypony in its borders?" Pharynx asked, an approving grin plastered across his face.

"No. I have better uses for the city, by which I will show them their days of languishing in comfort have come to a close. It will be a glorious sunset upon the golden age of their civilization, a prelude to the casting of their people into a new, eternal darkness, with me at the helm. But come, we presently have more important things to attend to."

With that, Makuta turned and began making his way from the chamber, beckoning for the two Hordika to follow. Artaegen and Pharynx shared a look, shrugged, and moved to follow, though Artaegen paused after a mere three steps to look at the holographic image again. His head cocked to the side as he considered the display, gears turning in his head as he idly considered the logistics behind such an undertaking.

"Artaegen!"

The note of sternness in Makuta's voice shook Artaegen from his thoughts, and he quickly scurried off to join the other two.

It was not long before he met up with them once again. He received a suspicious look from Makuta as he caught up, but was asked no questions. Soon, they arrived at the destination that Makuta had in mind, being another chamber in the network of underground tunnels deep beneath the Hive. It was sparsely furnished, save for a singular pedestal, above which hovered the severed horn of King Sombra that Pharynx and Artaegen had recovered.

"Alright, so, what's the plan with this old thing?" Artaegen asked, gesturing to the horn.

"Yeah, you gonna draw out its power to amplify your own or something?" Pharynx added, equally curious.

"No, you imbeciles, I've enough power of my own, for the time being." Makuta snapped at them, then returned his attention to the floating horn. "This... this is just a bit of recruitment to further flesh out our forces." With that, he raised his staff high into the air, where it crackled with dark and arcane energies. "Now, arise, King Sombra, that you might once more plague the inhabitants of this pathetic world with the scourge of your dark desires...!"

He slammed the butt of his staff into the ground then, and the horn was bathed in the power he had collected, infusing it with his might as he worked to bend the smaller artefact's magic to his own will. Upon the surface of the pedestal, a magical circle was scorched into the surface by skittering bolts of arcane energy: the resultant shape was that of a circumscribed letter "M", with a line scored horizontally through the entire thing, and with smaller writing bordering the inner limits of the circle itself. The moment the circle had been completed, shadows erupted from it, engulfing the pedestal and horn in a violent maelstrom of living smoke, which seemed content to persist as such for the time being.

"Fear not...!" Makuta declared, though Artaegen and Pharynx had already taken several steps back, their hackles raised. "This is merely the beginning of the process: the rest will take time. In the meantime, I have another mission for the two of you: hopefully, you won't make a mess of it as you almost did with the last one."

"Oh?" Came a new voice, albeit one that was familiar to the three of them. "And where, pray tell, do you intend to send them, without so much as informing me first?"

All eyes turned to see Chrysalis entering the chamber, swinging a length of silver chain in one clawed hand. The end she swung split partway along its length into several shorter chains, each ending in wicked bundles of spikes, like a metallic echo of a cat-o'-nine-tails. The rest of the chain wrapped around her torso multiple times, terminating in a small hand-sized sickle that hung at her left hip.

"Ah, Chrysalis," Makuta said with a chuckle. "You've finished forging your weapon of choice, I see. As for where I am sending these two, need I remind you who owns whom in this situation...?" Chrysalis' eyes widened momentarily at the venomous tone he'd put into those last few words, her steps halting, and she immediately backpedaled.

"M-my apologies, Lord Teridax, I forgot myself. I've invested much in the empowering of these two, and I would be loath to lose the strength they provide our forces should they fall."

"An understandable sentiment, but do remember your place in the hierarchy from here on."

Chrysalis nodded sheepishly, then turned her attention to the swirling darkness at the center of the chamber. "And if I might be so bold as to ask...?" She began, gesturing to it with her chin to signify the unspoken question.

"I am in the process of reviving King Sombra," Makuta replied, dismissively. "However, it will take some time to complete the ritual. As such, I have decided to send these two Hordika out to retrieve another asset to my plan, one who will be of great value. They will be requiring a new set of communication stones on this mission, seeing as you allowed them to leave the prior set with miss... what was her name? Starlight Glitter?"

"Glimmer," Artaegen supplied, garnering less-than-favorable looks from Chrysalis and Makuta.

"Regardless," Makuta continued, "that is how things currently stand."

"I see," Chrysalis answered, stroking her chin. "How soon do you intend to send them out?"

"The prospect of 'immediately' would be most preferable, Chrysalis. Failing that, however, I intend for them to begin with the greatest possible expediency."

"If you so wish, master..." Chrysalis began, bowing to him somewhat, "it shall be done."

"Uh, not to interrupt, but..." Artaegen flinched slightly under the returned attention of Chrysalis and Makuta, but pressed on. "Where, exactly, are we going on this mission?"

There was a brief silence in the chamber, before a slow, dark chuckling sound could be heard from the armor housing Makuta's presence. "Tell me, young Hordika," he said at last, "have you ever heard of... Tartarus?"

Author's Note

Sorry this took so long folks. Had a bit of distraction mixed with writer's block.

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An Uninvited Guest in an Unusual Land

I woke slowly, staring blankly at the ceiling of a camping tent for a moment, before my memory slapped me in the face with a reminder of what'd happened in the last 24 hours.

"Ah... fuck," I groaned, scrunching my eyes closed and wishing in vain that things hadn't gone all weird. Not that it would help, of course: wishing never changed anything, in my experience. Well, except for the occasional well-placed "Wish" spell in a game of D&D, but that was beside the point. Rubbing my face as I sat up, I mentally reviewed the series of events that had led me to be here in what I was starting to believe was Equestria.

~~~~
(Approximately 24 hours ago, give or take...)

When all this started, I had been on a day trip to Seattle with my family, and we'd stopped in at the Seattle Art Museum to see what fun stuff they had on display. There was always interesting stuff there, even if I didn't always get it. As fate would have it, I'd broken off from my generally slower-moving family, and thus I was alone when I stumbled across an entire exhibit of masks from numerous times periods and multiple points around the globe. It was only after I'd been looking at them for a minute that my near future became a möbius double clusterfuck. Glass cases started exploding, a few masks started flying around through the air of their own volition, guards were called... It was a whole ordeal in and of itself.

Of course, before anyone could begin to get a handle on the situation, I suddenly found myself at home, which was tens of miles away. I also, for some reason, had two of the masks from the museum in my possession. I hadn't grabbed them, of course, but by now I was pretty sure I was no longer in control of things. So I grabbed as much stuff I could cram into a couple backpacks (trying to stick to the legendary "Ten Essentials" as possible), and prepared to go "on the run". Of course, I also grabbed a few non-essentials, like a charge cable for my phone, a few power banks, my small collection of throwing knives, and a handful of swords. Yeah, I had swords, but they were mostly of the cheap, fantasy, "display-only" type.

I wasn't exactly sure why I had been in such a hurry to pack and get going, to be honest. I mean, perhaps the more paranoid part of my mind was thinking that the police or the government was going to show up at any moment and... I didn't know what they'd do then. The more rational part of my mind, however, argued that there was no way anyone could know I was at home, let alone that I appeared to have teleported there from the museum, so there wouldn't be anyone "after me" just yet.

Not unless they have some sort of spatial distortion sensors or something currently blanketing the Pacific Northwest, the paranoid part of my mind had argued. No-one really knows what they get up to in their spare time. After all, if teleportation is a thing, then all bets are off...!

The internal dialogue only went down hill from there. To make matters worse, just as I was dropping a tic-tac container full of my D&D dice into my backpack, next to my laptop, I heard someone loudly banging on the front door and shouting "FBI, OPEN UP!" Given that it was neither April 1st nor Halloween, I panicked. I grabbed everything I'd prepared, cracked open a top-story window above the back yard, and jumped. I wasn't thinking then, but in later days, I came to think I was hoping whatever power had transported me home would take me somewhere safer.

Apparently, something somewhere registered my intentions, because I had barely left the windowsill before a black void of sorts opened beneath me, and I found myself falling through the strangest place. There were sights and sounds I couldn't fully comprehend, no matter how I tried. All in all, it was like a combination of Harry's first portkey experience in both the original "Goblet of Fire" novel, and the subsequent movie adaptation.

Right down to the part where I ended up smacking face-first into the dirt at my "destination".

The first thing I'd done was just lay there and ache for a bit. After spending a couple minutes like that, I rolled over and looked in the approximate direction of the sky. What I saw was a tangled canopy of tree branches that didn't let much of the sky peek through. This concerned me.

"What...?" I asked, already completely done with the day. I sat up and looked around. "Oh, what? The fuck am I now, of all places...?"

What I saw in my surroundings was not encouraging: I was in some sort of Creepy Forest. And yes, those capital letters are there for a reason: everything around me screamed "evil, scary dark forest where bad things are waiting to eat you," from the gnarled black trees with creepy face-like holes to... everything else, really. It was almost like something out of a kids' cartoon, made real, but still to the level of creepiness that would normally directed at kids for such a setting. It even had a sort of artificial, contrived edge to it everything.

And that made it even creepier for me, somehow. In addition to that, I subsequently noted that I was wearing an unfamiliar suit of full body armor of a mostly medieval-age variety. Of course, it had a few more "modern" design elements, mostly in terms of being more functional than flashy, and it seemed to have quick, dynamic movements in mind. And not only did it feel so light that it was like I was just wearing my normal clothes, I could swear I felt stronger somehow. That, or it all was super light, and quiet to boot. I even had a helmet of sorts, with a visor-like thing that only covered the top half of my face. It felt like an angular masquerade mask, though I couldn't tell what it was supposed to look like.

The color scheme of the whole ensemble was, for the most part, a monochromatic black-and-white affair, with some smattering of silver, gunmetal grey, and the occasional splash of lime green. Most of the torso armor was black, as was the left pauldron, with the right being silver. Just about everything on my arms below the pauldrons was a soft white, save for a single slotted plate bolted to the outside of my right bracer, and the grey/black gauntlets on my hands. From the hips down, things were dark grey and gunmetal, interspersed with black. I didn't exactly feel like trying to remove my helmet just yet, though, so I didn't know exactly what it looked like.

On top of everything else, I couldn't see any of my stuff lying around. A quick pat-down of my body proved none of it was on my immediate person, and nothing seemed to be hanging in any of the local trees, from what I could see. I had to admit, I was starting to freak out and shut down at the same time.

"Nope...!" I said, dropping to a sitting position and hugging my knees up under my chin as I started talking to myself. "Nope, nope nope nope. This shit doesn't just happen. I mean, I know I'm a fan of various kinds of fiction-based stories and stuff where things like this suddenly happen to the main character -- or, well, characters, really, -- and they go off and have an adventure or twelve, and I'll admit I tend to point out times where Art and Life begin to imitate one another, but this is ridiculous! The only logical explanation for this is that my personal perception of reality just shattered, and I'm going through some psychosis or whatever while my mind tries to restart in safe mode or whatever...! I mean, I may have hoped, prayed, or even dreamed of something strange like this to come along and shake up my life a bit, but not only is it impossible by any stretch of the know laws of physics, it's completely improbable to boot, so the odds of this crap being real are literally not in my favor. And now I'm rambling about all this to an empty, creepy forest, doing practically the exact same thing most first-time protagonists do where they deny and/or reject the universe's hand-written invitation to adventure and glory after having their peaceful, boring worldview so crazily shook by something out of the blue that... fuck, I lost the handle on that sentence. But seriously folks, what the ever-loving FUCK is going on here?"

I took a deep breath, and another look around the freaky, "evil" not-forest around me. While I'd been busy with my verbal rant, the still-functional and irrational portion of my mind (which was probably holed up somewhere in my left brain at the moment,) had been running a mile a minute, comprising several scenarios out of what limited data I had available to process at the moment. Such sources of information included my past Boy Scout experience, the events of the last hour, and the gist of just about every story I'd devoured where someone ended up alone and confused in an unfamiliar wilderness environment. The general idea was as follows:

I should probably stay put, to an extent, whilst keeping an eye out for predators or other hostile wildlife, and wait for someone to come find me. The only reason that last part would have even a remote chance of working was, in my infinite wisdom, due to how fast the so-called "FBI" had shown up after I'd appeared in my house. If they could track a shorter translocation so swiftly, they would no doubt be showing up wherever I was within the next... what, few hours? A couple days, maybe, depending on the speed of federal bureaucracy in the good old United States of America. Assuming, of course, that whatever had tipped them off to my location was able to see the entire globe.

And what makes you so sure that you're still on Earth, or even in the same reality you started out in?

That thought brought me up short. Yes, the local atmosphere tasted and smelled relatively the same as I was used to breathing, even factoring in ambient forest smells. The local gravity seemed the same as Earth-normal, and the sunlight appeared to be "normal" too.

"You know what?" I suddenly asked myself aloud, not caring if I got a response. "I should try and get a lock on my surroundings. Maybe climb a tree or something, take a look around. Maybe I'll discover civilization...? Yeah, that sounds like a great idea...!"

I got up and turned to the nearest tree. "Hey, you! Tree! C'mere, I'mma climb your ass...!" I told it, accusingly. I then proceeded to climb the damned thing, with some minor difficulty, in less than a minute. This, in and of itself, was slightly remarkable for me because the armor I was wearing wasn't exactly conducive to the act, though it didn't get in the way as much I had expected. Once I got to the top, I had a decent-ish view of the surrounding terrain. In one direction, I saw what looked like a town off in the distance beyond the distant treeline. In another direction, I saw what looked like a couple tower-esque structures, indicative of either a castle or fortress, all of which seemed to be closer to my current location. I wasn't entirely sure which way was North, in all honesty, and I couldn't even be sure that it was the same time of day here as it had been back at home, so I couldn't even try and use an old trick I'd heard of that involved using the hands of an analogue timepiece to determine where North was.

Making a mental note of the "castle's" rough direction in relation to the tree, I climbed back down to ground level and, having nothing better to do, began walking towards the "castle". Perhaps there was someone living there, from whom I could solicit some measure of help. Or just crash for the night.

After a fair bit of walking (and the climbing of a few less-scary trees to confirm I was still on the right track,) I crossed paths with a small lizardlike creature with a chicken's head. From what little I was able to see of it before it had scurried back out of my sight, it seemed to be both fearsome and comical in build, though at the moment it was completely terrified, hence the running and squawking across my intended path.

Yeah, I thought to myself, dunno what that is, but either I spooked it, or it was running from something else. In which case, it's time I moved on.

And so I did.

In short order, I came through a break in the trees to find my destination. I was both surprised and disappointed by what I saw. What I had originally believed to be a castle was, in fact, a set of ruins. The place had obviously once been an opulent center of activity for those in the higher echelons of society back in the day, but no more; instead, it looked like a bomb had gone off and wrecked the place. There was also a large, jagged, gorgelike scar in the landscape, which ran around the better part of the ruins. I could also see a couple of old, questionable bridges across the chasm, which would allow access.

"Wow," I said, amazed by what I'd stumbled across, "look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair; nothing else beside remains. Never thought I'd appreciate that tidbit to this extent. Who was it that said that again? The name started with an 'O', I remember that much. Oedipus...? Wait, no, no no no, that's totally the wrong one..."

It was around this time that I heard something growling from somewhere behind me. I turned around and saw a creature straight out of Mediterranean mythology: it was a large, lionesque creature with long, hornlike ears, crimson batlike wings, and a massive scorpion's tail. It also looked hungry, and angry.

I know what that is...! part of my mind told itself, while the rest was screaming to run, which is what I almost immediately did. That's... No, not a Chimera, those are different. Fuck, I know these things, why can't I remember the name?

Before I knew it, I was already halfway across the nearest bridge, having run at a pace I had never before come close to achieving. At the time, I put it down to sheer adrenaline. The only time I looked over my shoulder was after I was on solid land again, just in time to see the stone bridge beginning to collapse. The creature was about a third of the way across when it happened, but was quickly able to return to the far side of the chasm before the bridge could fall out from underneath it.

The bridge didn't have far to fall -- nothing more than six or seven stories -- but it still made lots of noise on the way down. Once that had quieted down, the monster began yowling and pacing, never taking its eyes off me. A few seconds later, it stopped pacing, gave an evil feline grin, and then spread its wings wide.

Manticore, my mind supplied at long last, capable of flight, can deliver swiftly fatal stings, and in some instances, can breathe fire...

To my dismay, it leapt into the air and began flying across the fissure towards my general direction. As it progressed, it gave a mighty roar that I actually felt in my bones. Before long, it had landed uncomfortably close to my position, and bounded towards me. I managed to duck behind some rubble as it took a stab at me with its tail, then scrambled further around the ancient stone as it continued to follow.

The next time it tried attacking with the tail, I did something stupid. Just after I'd jumped back and it stuck in the ground, I leaped forward and grabbed hold of the tail, clamping my feet around the joint just behind the stinger. Of course, this left me in a prime position to get myself swiped by the beast's massive claws, but it chose to yank its tail back instead, and begin flailing me about. I held on as tight as I could for several seconds, until I once again dangled before the Manticore's face. It snarled, and I reacted on instinct. I pushed back off of its stinger just as it lunged forward to bite me, leaving it to chomp its own stinger. Fortunately for one of us, (three guesses as to which,) the Manticore didn't sting itself in the mouth, though it did crunch the stinger's chitinous shell pretty bad, effectively rendering it useless until it theoretically healed.

Not that I'd be around that long, it seemed.

While the Manticore was busy thrashing in pain from its self-inflicted wound, I had scurried behind another bit of rubble. In seconds, the beast had recovered its senses enough to begin sniffing around, looking for me. Its apparently keen senses were quick to pick up my scent, and upon pinning down my new location, the Manticore leapt into the air once again, using its wings to gain a bit of altitude.

It was just as I noticed a deep, heavy flapping sound from off to one side, when everything was again shaken by a roar that would've put the famous Jurassic Park T-Rex roar to shame. I looked up in time to see a massive blur of color tearing the Manticore our of the air. After a couple seconds, my mind had finally processed what I'd just seen: an honest-to-God dragon had just snatched the smaller Manticore mid-flight, and was even now tearing out its throat while hovering. In what was most likely my dumbest move yet, I jumped up from behind my hiding spot with a laugh and a whoop, pumping a fist in the air.

"Hah ha!" I cheered. "Well done, dragon!" The smile on my face froze and fell as the dragon turned to look at me, then swooped towards my location. I had barely managed to turn around before I was tightly grasped in one of the dragon's foreclaws, and was being carried off to who-knows-where.

I was of several minds about the situation, just then. Part of me was excited and fascinated, given that I was in the presence of a real, honest-to-God dragon, who was carrying me through the skies. Overshadowing those positive emotions was a mask of fear; I was being carried by a dragon that was also still carrying its latest kill in its hindclaws, and I was concerned that I'd be the appetizer for the main course. On top of that was anger, mostly at myself for having been so dumb, though some of it was directed at the dragon for having decided I was even worth taking.

Among all of this, however, I was also strangely calm. I wasn't compelled to start kicking and screaming, for one, though I did start nervously singing. It was a stupid little song I'd found on YouTube, made from a flipped Google Translate audio sample, which in turn consisted of synthesized Japanese-accented "Engrish".

♪I like hotto doggu, because aiyt-es notto a-a-a doggu. Do you like hotto doggu? (hotto doggu?) Eeeto, eeeto, eeeto hotto doggu: hot-to doggu burgur, kokah-korah!♪

Sing that twice, followed by sixteen repetitions of "hottu doggu" for a chorus, then wash, rinse, and repeat. Boom, you've got the gist of the song. Most folks would find it annoying to listen to it more than a couple times through, but I could listen to it all day and be just fine. Given that I wasn't exactly the greatest singer at the best of times, and that the entire song had been run through autotune, it was probably pretty reasonable that the dragon didn't exactly appreciate my "artistic" self-expression just then.

It growled loudly, craning its long neck underneath itself so it could glare at me with its baleful golden eyes. "Could you shut it for five minutes?!" It -- no, she, -- demanded. "Whatever you're singing, if you call it that, is extremely annoying...!"

"Oh, it speaks!" I exclaimed, and continued without thinking overmuch. "Could you set me back down over there? I've never been inside a forgotten ruin before, and I was hoping to explore."

"Nope." She replied. "You're coming with me to my cave. It's rather fortunate that I stumbled across you, honestly; I've run a bit short on lab rats for my little experiments, and you're the perfect specimen for my next test."

"Wait, how is that good luck?" I asked, starting to kick and struggle against her grasp. "I did not consent to this...!"

"I meant it was fortunate for me," the dragoness spat back. "You're not involved in this."

"Uh, I'm feeling pretty involved here...!"

"Not where it matters, you're not. That said, your contribution will be duly noted by compatriots. Your sacrifice will garner me the personal attention of our Lord of Shadows."

"What do you mean, 'sacrifice'?" I demanded, kicking a bit to see if I could dislodge myself from the dragoness' grasp. "I've got nothing on me to 'sacrifice' to or for anything -- or anyone -- and I certainly want nothing to do with this dark lord of yours."

"You misunderstand. You will not be sacrificing anything: you are going to be sacrificed, for the good of our agenda. In all honesty, you're the first decent test subject we've been able to get our claws on for any reasonable length of time. This is a marvelous opportunity that has fallen at my doorstep, and I'm not going to let the chance you present to slip my grasp...!"

"The fuck are you on about?" I exclaimed, thoroughly confused. "I'm no-one's -- whoa!"

The dragoness had banked sharply in midair, and we were now circling a tall, narrow mountainous peak that looked to be the grandfather of all stalagmites.

"Ohhh, I'm getting Myst flashbacks...!" I said, to no-one in particular. "It's like the Spire link-in flyby got busy with the bird ride from Edanna, except the result's not gonna be fun...!"

A second later, as we came round again, I was summarily dropped on a ledge outside a cave of sorts in the mountainside. I barely had time to consider getting up before I was buffeted by harsh winds as the dragoness herself came in for a landing, still clutching her kill.

I seized my moment of opportunity and hurried to the edge of the ledge, and stood there defiantly. "I'll jump...!" I declared. "Let me go free, or I'll do it!"

"Really...?" The dragoness asked calmly, a faint grin twisting her countenance. "Are you so devoted to your cause, little lab-rat, that you'd end your own life so readily just to try and thwart us? Go ahead, then: I'm not stopping you. I don't need you alive, after all. I just want your body...!"

"Uh, I need an adult...!" I said, cautiously. I mean, I was in my twenties already, but... this was getting weird. Well, weird-er. Unfortunately, I wasn't paying enough attention, and was unable to react in time when the dragoness surged forward and grabbed me again, pulling me close to her face.

"I am an adult...!" She growled with gleeful malice, then chucked me headlong into the cave. I slid and rolled until I collided with what turned out to be a massive pile of gold, gems, and other medieval-age rich-people stuff. Talk about cliché.

"Honestly, I half expected you to put up more of a fight when I captured you," the dragoness commented, pausing as she dragged the Manticore carcass further into the cave. "That's what I get for finding such an unusual specimen. I've never seen, heard of, or smelled the likes of you before. Not that it matters: you'll do just fine for my purposes."

"Seriously, I only just showed up here, like, an hour ago, and I have no idea where I even am! Hell, far as I know, you and that Manticore shouldn't exist! I mean, I'm obviously not in Kansas anymore, but still!"

"Spare me the tall tales," the dragoness told me, her tone dismissive as she rolled her eyes with great exaggeration. "Now, prepare yourself: if you're lucky, in mere moments, the only thing you'll be feeling is oblivion."

"That, or disappointment." I replied, grabbing a handful of the priceless stash behind me. "Go ahead: flip that coin. Speaking of which...!" I hurled the handful of coins and other glittery debris in the direction of her face. She instinctively recoiled as some of the stuff bounced harmlessly off her snout, which gave me enough time to scramble onto the pile of treasure. I nabbed the hilt of a sword from the pile and yanked the whole thing up in a shower of valuables. Giving it a few brief test flourishes, I readied myself for the fight of my life.

"A foolish effort," the dragoness told me. "What do you plan to do with my favorite toothpick there; turn me into hors d'oeuvre?"

"I'll have you know, I'm one-eighth Norwegian...!" I said. "My ancestors were slaying dragons mightier than you in their sleep, back in the day...!" Blatant lies, those were, but she didn't know that.

"I thought you implied my kind didn't exist in... I believe you called your homeland 'Kansas,' yes?" The dragoness asked, creeping slowly forward with a malicious grin on her snout. She obviously believed she'd caught me in a lie, though I could only hope it was not the one I was currently feeding her. "If so, then how could your ancestors have done as you claim?"

"There used to be dragons," I explained, "but not anymore. It's been generations since anyone's seen a real, live dragon. Closest anyone gets would be going to see some of the bones we've got on display in some of our museums."

"Bastards!"

I never had a chance to react as she suddenly spun and slammed me with her tail, which sent me flying across the cave to slam into a wall. I may have blacked out for a couple seconds after the impact.

"Ya fookin' wot, mate?" I demanded in my best imitation-British accent, and stood up as my vision cleared. "I'll fookin' fight ya, ya daft cunt!"

I was immediately slammed against the wall again, held in place by one of the dragoness' giant claws as the sword clattered from my hands.

"I'm sorry," the dragoness said, with evident sarcasm and scorn, "I don't think I heard you over the smell of my people's blood on your hands. Care to repeat that for me?"

"Punish not the child for the sins of the fath--hrk!!" I was cut off mid sentence as she pressed hard on my torso.

"Oh, sorry, still didn't catch that. Care to try again...?"

"Do not... meddle... in the affairs of dragons..." I gasped, head drooping from the pain, "for you are crunchy, and... and good with ketchup."

"Better." The dragoness said, then looked to one side. There was the sound of fluid-filled glassware being abruptly -- and violently -- shifted into motion, and a stoppered Erlenmeyer flask arced into view. With a surprising deftness, the dragoness caught the fragile glass container and popped the cork out of the flask's neck.

"Wait...!" I gasped, holding out a hand. "Before you, uh, do whatever you're about to do... What's your name?"

The dragoness, with the flask already halfway to her lengthy snout, paused. With a curious eyebrow raised, she turned to impale me with her gaze. "Why do you care...?"

"I'd rather know your name, if I'm about to die or whatever, than go out in ignorance."

"Hah, little late for that...!" She snorted. "Fine. It's Gilraea. Happy?"

"Mmm. Good to hear it at least starts with a 'G'. At least some people's parents stick to the old ways..."

"What do you--" Gilraea stopped, blinked, then squinted at me. "You're stalling, aren't you...?"

"Not by intent," I admitted, "but, to be fair, it's only natural."

There was a brief pause, and then Gilraea spoke once more.

"Alright, then," she said, "since I let you ask me a question, I have a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"Die."

"Wait, that's not a ques--" I got no further before she slammed back the contents of the flask and exhaled some sort of thick, viscous gas all over me. I coughed and wheezed, struggling to breathe, but I could feel myself fading fast. Faster than should have been possible.

"That's because I don't make requests," I heard Gilraea say, and then everything went dark.

~~~~
(Sometime later...)

I was gently awakened to the sound of a rapidly-looping alarm going off in my ears. It wasn't harsh, or loud, but it was definitely enough to get my attention.

Especially because it was so eerily familiar.

I scrunched my eyes against the sound, not wanting to fully leave sleep. I was quite comfortable at the time, to be honest, and pleasantly warm. I was perfectly content... For about five seconds, that is. That was how long it took me to place the alarm that was still going off. It was at that moment that my calm was irreparably damaged.

Wait, I thought, opening my eyes, that's the "low-shield" alarm from Halo...! Why am I...? My train of thought came to a screeching halt as I finally realized I was seeing a holographic HUD-like interface before my eyes. Nearly all of it was fuzzed out to some degree or another, save for an empty-looking bar at the center-top of my field of view, which was flashing between red and dark teal. There were a couple smaller bars under it as well, each of which were following suit.

A female voice said, slightly louder than the ongoing alarm.

"Uh...?" I said, without thinking. As I did, there was a faint ping...! sound, and a text box popped up, reading as follows:

Charge energy reserves from ambient source?

{Y} / {N}

"Uh... Yeah, sure, do whatever," I said.

With that, the alarm shut off and I could see the bars begin filling, each one receiving attention in turn until they were all green.

"Yeah, sure... Do that..." I muttered, tiredness beginning to set in again. Seriously, who even was that voice? I'd never been one for playing Halo, but I could definitely tell it wasn't Cortana, and it definitely wasn't Siri either. It was also, thank the gods, not GLaDOS. But whoever it was, their voice was still familiar, though just outside my full grasp. It was, in a word, maddening.

While I was lightly pondering the issue, I tried shifting position, and noticed a few things. First off, I was suspended in some form of gelatinous fluid, which immediately posed several potential issues: namely, how was I breathing?

I had a quick answer for that one. Somehow, the visor/helmetthing had seemingly closed around the lower half of my face, leaving me with some sort of air supply. I wasn't sure where it came from, seeing as there shouldn't have been enough in the helmet alone for me to take a full lungful of air, but that was an issue for another time; my arms, legs and most of my torso were giving me that jarring sort of half-asleep tingling you sometimes get when you've put pressure on a major nerve or blood vessel for too long. My brain must've been really scrambled, too, because I almost could've sworn I was starting to get some weird form of phantom limb sensation: I would swear was "feeling" a couple extra arms, and what might've been a third leg.

The voice in my ear told me.

Ok, now I was starting to get a major sense of Deja Vu. I continued wracking my brain for answers as I blindly moved my aching limbs, probing my environment. I almost immediately found my hands and feet colliding with a smooth, rigid obstruction that wrapped around me in all directions, flawlessly, serving to contain me within this strange gel. It was almost too close for comfort.

As the voice spoke, lines of digital code began writing and erasing themselves in rapid succession in a corner of my HUD, and then a series of symbols popped into existence in the center and dragged themself off to the right-hand edge of my view, one after the other. The final symbol -- more of a logo, as I was quick to realize -- stayed firmly in the center, haunting me with its unmistakable familiarity as the voice spoke again; it was a downward-pointing equilateral triangle with three bars radiating from its center to touch the corners, all of which was enclosed within a hexagon. The triangle's corners were almost, but not quite, touching three of the hexagon's corners, while three short bars radiated inwards from the remaining corners to almost, but not quite, contact the centerpoints of the triangle's sides. The logo shrunk and dragged itself into the top-right corner, and with that clue in place, I finally recognized the voice.

ADA said. I was just getting ready to voice my disapproval to the universe at large, when she cut in again, once more in a clipped, businesslike tone.

There was a beep, and an animated image popped up in my field of view. For a brief moment, it showed a simplified white stick figure in a T-pose, only to have just about everything below the collarbone briefly flash red and became something more akin to a bipedal semi-draconic stick figure. This second image included wings protruding from the shoulders and a tail sticking to one side of the hip. The diagram toggled back and forth a couple times, before a bit more of the figure turned red in the second diagram.

ADA supplied.

"Like what...?!" I asked loudly. "I'm stuck in... whatever this container thing is, and I can't find an opening!"

ADA suggested.

As if on cue, one of the icons that had appeared moments before began gently glowing; it looked like a simple, nondescript backpack. As soon as I looked at it and considered how I'd possibly "select" the thing, it flickered and spat out a window menu, which displayed everything I'd had on me before I jumped out the window at home. The first thing my eyes landed on was a representation of one of the throwing knife sets I'd snagged, and a moment later, the trio of small blades were there in the fluid as well, slowly drifting downward. Taking one in my right hand, I grabbed the other two in my left and began slowly stabbing and cutting at the material of my prison.

I didn't get far before things shifted around me. Everything seemed to wobble, then there was a muffled jingling, and gravity abruptly shifted all over the place. First, it lurched forward, then began spinning round and around, completely throwing my sense of direction until everything shook for a brief moment, accompanied by a disturbing crunk...! Afterward, everything was still, and "down" now seemed to be behind me.

"Now, now..." A muffled voice said from outside my container, "let's not be so antsy to greet the world: you've still got a while yet before you're ready, if my calculations are correct."

Suddenly, everything around me shifted, and I momentarily felt heavier; it had to mean my prison was being lifted by some means.

"In all honesty, it's unfortunate that you awakened so prematurely: if you'd stayed asleep, you would merely have passed peacefully on without any knowledge of your fate. But now, that opportunity is lost to you. Nonetheless, my child-to-be, the result will be the same. From my own flesh and blood, I will have brought into this world a creature with strength to rival the gods themselves...!"

ADA informed me, and I acted without thinking. Gathering all three knives in my left hand, I held out my right and mentally selected one of the more unlikely items I'd grabbed from home: a custom replica lightsaber hilt. Whatever features it had originally come with no longer mattered to me in that moment, because I was acting on some unknown instinct now. I mashed the button that normally would turn on the lights and sounds, and received a literal shock as electrical energy arced through the fluid in my current container. I mashed the button again, and...

Shrakk...!

A brilliant emerald light erupted from the business end of the device, the gel before it instantly boiling as the glowing blade burst forth with unbridled fury, easily penetrating the shell of my cage. There was an unbearably loud shriek of rage and pain as gravity momentarily vanished, and then everything shattered.

Ok, a momentary tangent here, to explain a lesson I learned the hard way in that moment. Fluids, such as water or oil, are better at carrying and transmitting wave-forces than gasses, purely due to the material density of their physical state of existence. Take sounds, for example. You may not be able to hear whales "singing" for any great distance above water, but you can hear them from miles off when you're below the surface. Same goes for shockwaves; whether it be from an underwater explosion (like from a mine or depth charge,) or from simply tapping too hard on a fish tank. It's kind of how the whole "fish in a barrel" expression works. You don't even have to hit the proverbial aquatic wildlife with a bullet for them to die: the bullets smacking into the surface of the water is enough to send waves of force ricocheting around the barrel, killing them instantly.

You see where I'm going, here?

So, you can imagine the sort of rattling I got when my fluid-filled prison slammed into the ground from who-knows-how-high. I was stunned by the impact for a couple seconds, and the matter wasn't helped by the abrupt temperature shock, or by the continued wailing of some large and injured being...

Oh, shit...! I thought to myself, picking my still-groggy head up off the floor and looking around. Yes, there was Gilraea, clutching a ruined claw and screaming her grievances to the world as she thrashed with wild abandon, scattering various objects everywhere. I shook myself, trying to clear the fog from my mind, and did my best to stand.

It wasn't easy, to be sure, given the structure of my legs had shifted while I was in the... I took a moment to look at the remains of my prison. The shards left behind looked suspiciously like an egg, from what I could tell. In that moment, several things clicked in my head. Gilraea's use of "child-to-be" and "my flesh and blood", the egg-like thing I'd been trapped in, the draconic imagery ADA had shown me... I looked down at myself, seeing what changes had been wrought upon my form.

"Was... Was she trying to turn me into a fuckin' dragon...? I wondered aloud, momentarily overtaken with genuine curiosity, then shook myself clear of the distraction. If only the remnants of the fuull-body tingling were so easily dismissed... "No time for that... Gotta escape... Gotta--"

"YOU!!!" Gilraea screeched, her gaze Haven fallen across my more-or-less upright form. "You've destroyed months -- no, years -- of work! You've ruined me! You'll pay for that, you whelp...!"

I was peripherally aware, in that moment, of ADA saying something in my ear about having detected an information network, and subsequently downloading some sort of "intel package", but it wasn't too important at the moment. I was fairly sure that-- oh, yep there it was: Gilraea was charging at me, several tons of draconic fury bearing down on me to exact her fatal revenge. On impulse, I grabbed the now-deactivated lightsaber from where it lay, and tried unsuccessfully to power it on again. Twice, thrice, four times it did nothing but spark angrily at me, and then, finally, the blade ignited.

Ignoring the abrupt smell of something charring unhealthily, I sidestepped the stampeding dragoness' charge and, using the slipperiness of the slime underfoot, I paired a two-step spin with an overhead round-the-shoulders flourish on the lightsaber. The result was a less-than-graceful reenactment of when Obi-wan cut off Anakin's arm and legs on Mustafar in Revenge of the Sith, though markedly less effective. Gilraea's bulk, now minus the functionality of her left arm and leg, and with her right already damaged from my unintended strike within the egg, slid along the floor and collided heavily with her hoard of stuff.

Seeing it happen, something awoke deep within me, telling me to claim it for my own. She was weakened, it said, and you are strong... well, less incapacitated, at least. Take it: you deserve it all, after what she did...

I had to admit, I caved. I stumbled forward, lightsaber raised aggressively, towards the struggling form of Gilraea. She had a gash in her side, which wasn't bleeding, and she was having trouble trying to both hold it closed and get up at the same time.

"Stop hitting yourself," I said, and kicked her side. I said it again, and kicked her harder, only to jump back awkwardly as her head swung around with a snarl. Honestly, I almost tripped on something, but I didn't have the time to look.

"You're the one hitting me, fool..." She growled. "I'd fry you here and now, but..."

"Oh, you're mistaken." I countered. "You brought this upon yourself...!" I then leapt forward, slashed at her face to make her recoil, and then delivered a blow that severed her neck from her shoulders in a single swing. I jumped back as her now-disconnected body abruptly thrashed about, thankful not leaving blood everywhere because of the cauterization. I gave a curt nod, then turned my attention back to the head. As I came back into her field of view, I could see her gasping for a breath that would never come, her eyes rolling wildly for a moment before they locked on me.

Fun fact for those not in the know: even with humans, it takes several minutes for a head that has been separated from its body to die of oxygen deprivation, and the mind of the person is still cognizant and awake for most of it. Trust me, there've been experiments on the matter ever since the first guillotine was invented, perhaps even before. Now, where was I...? Oh, yes.

Her lips pulled back in a silent snarl, and her eyes were glaring daggers at me, though I could also see a small bit of pleading behind the furious gaze.

"You feel that, Gilraea...?" I asked, gesturing ambiguously with one hand. "That breathless feeling, the pain, the inability to speak...? That's the feeling of all your sins, crawling up your back; that's what karma feels like." Gilraea just glared at me, not even trying to mouth a response in my direction.

"It's ironic, really," I continued, deactivating the lightsaber and folding my arms. "As I said earlier, I am only feeling disappointment right now, both in you as a person, and in your whole species in general. To quote a soon-to-be dead Dragoness... If you're lucky, then in mere moments, all you'll be feeling is oblivion." I then turned and walked off towards the cave entrance, leaving her to asphyxiate in peace. I mean, I could've ended her quickly and mostly painlessly, but after the shit I'd had to deal with, I needed something to vent on. I needed some choice, for once. Also, I was sure the lightsaber probably wasn't going to start up again, in addition to the fact that I felt super queasy, so I went to get some air.

I practically collapsed at the edge of the clifflike protrusion, just outside the cave. I was so tired at that point, I almost didn't care if I fell off or not.

ADA chimed, breaking my train of thought.

"I'm more concerned about the surrounding area," I replied, my gaze briefly flicking to the relevant warning icon, "though the mixed news there is good to know, at least. Thanks for that."

"Wait, there was a satellite...?" I asked, sitting up.

"Yeah?" I asked, curious. A rough map appeared in my field of vision, and I sucked in a quick breath at what it showed.

"Ok, two things. First, could you call me something other than 'agent'? Second, where's the nearest source of water...?"

The map, which was displaying a continent I most definitely didn't recognize, abruptly zoomed in on a spot somewhat south and east of "center". It stopped just as swiftly, such that the only real landmarks in view were the castle ruins I'd seen before, the mountainous spire on which I now sat, (currently centered in my field of vision,) and a nearby town. There was also an arrow-shaped marker in the middle, indicating both where I was and which way I was facing. Turning to look in the direction of the town (according to the map,) I caught sight of the same small town I'd spotted earlier, but I was afforded a much better view of the place from my current location.

I was only able to make out color and motion among the town's buildings at this distance, so I couldn't see what the people there looked like, but if the medieval style buildings were any indication, then I would've been willing to bet there were a regular menagerie of sapient species wandering the streets. This realm did seem to be similar to most fantasy story settings back home, after all.

I wasn't sure why, but the town seemed oddly familiar, beyond the fact that I'd seen it from a tree earlier. Something about some of the buildings was nagging at the back of my mind, and no matter what, my thoughts kept turning rebelliously to a location that was rather central to a particular kids' cartoon, which I much prefered to remain dissociated from. For my own sanity, I attempted to put the whole issue out of my mind.

While I was pondering that -- as well as the fact that ADA's definition of "crude" was far different from my own -- a small blue indicator pulsed nearby on the map.

ADA said.

"What, can't you just pull my user data from the Ingress app on my phone?" I asked, dubious.

"Damn, looks like I can give up on that idea..." I cursed, and thought for a moment. I had a feeling I shouldn't use my real name, because who knew what power names had here? Instead, I opted for an old standby I'd resorted to using online. "Fine, just call me Caldoric, alright?"

"Wait, what...?!" My eyes immediately snapped to the recently-forgotten graphic ADA had put up earlier, and I was highly concerned with the result: almost every inch of the stick figure was toggling between the human and "draconic" states, save for about two thirds of the head. "H-how much...?" I trailed off, holding up one hand to investigate the damage. As if reading my mind, the gauntlet and bracer fell away to reveal my hand and forearm, respectively.

ADA stated, a hint of regret tinging her synthesized voice as I gazed at my altered arm. Almost every inch of it had been covered in a coating of leathery black scales, only occasionally broken up by small patches of dark grey, with my fingers now ending in sharp-ish claws. I clenched my hand into a fist so tight, I actually managed to draw blood, which was something I'd only heard of in stories.

"So..." I said, softly, "it looks like this is what I am, now. No going back..."

I looked back over one shoulder at one of the wings that now hung heavy on my back; black limbs, with dark grey membranes between each "finger". A look further back revealed a tail, also black with dark grey. I sighed. "...Sure," I said, not really caring anymore.

"Not like I can ever go back, looking like this..." I flinched as the gauntlet and bracer leapt off the ground and snapped themselves around my exposed arm. There was a metallic skittering behind me, in the cave, and when I turned to identify the sound, I saw pieces of discarded armor similar to my own rattling across the uneven ground towards me. Looking down at my legs, I could guess where the armor'd come from. My legs had shifted from the standard plantigrade stance of human beings to a more reptilian digitigrade structure. As such, either the armor had been forced to disengage from my legs by the transformation, or they had removed themselves preemptively to protect me... Nah, it was probably the former.

Of course, that still left loose armor pieces moving towards me of their own volition. I merely rolled my eyes in response, stood up, and took few steps back towards cave. I then let the armor do its thing, latching onto my legs and reshaping itself to my new physiology. I hardly even cared enough anymore to freak out about it, what with all the weird crap that'd happened today. Even when I felt armor clamping itself around my new wings and tail, seemingly materializing out of thin air, I was unphased.

"ADA," I asked, my tone almost one of boredom, "where'd those extra bits come from...?"

she explained.

I shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I mean, the energy-matter conversion thing sounds completely bullshit, but as long as it all actually works, I'm fine with it. I don't get how it works, nor do I care to just yet; all that matters is that it does work."

After that, I wandered off down the spire in search of the water source ADA had marked the approximate location of on my minimap. It wasn't too hard to find, in the end, and I had a quick wash-up to clear the slowly-drying slime off of both myself and my armor. While I was there, I discovered two things. Firstly, whatever electronic or otherwise technological bits my armor had, water didn't affect them adversely as far as I could tell. Secondly, and most importantly, I was able to get a rough view of my helmet in the water's reflection.

The main part of the helmet itself wasn't much to write home about, save for being as black as certain other bits of my armor, though the visor was definitely a different story; when I'd felt it earlier, I'd envisioned it to be akin to a masquerade mask, and while it definitely still had a resemblance to such an item, it looked like something else entirely in my opinion.

It was, in fact, one of the two masks that'd caused me trouble at the museum before. I hadn't really taken a good look at it back then, but now... I could definitely see it looked like a generic mask from the second generation of Bionicle. Specifically, one of the ones worn by the villagers (and their respective Protectors) of Okoto. Long story there, don't ask.

Anywho, the mask itself had a somewhat aerodynamic-looking design, with the whole thing being covered in curves that swept towards the back of the head. In an abstract sort of way, I realized, it kind of reminded me of the head of Toothless, from DreamWorks' "How to Train Your Dragon," down to the flappy ear-horn-things he usually had at the back of his head. The visor -- or should I say "mask"? -- was mostly black as well, fading to a sort of transparent green in the back that felt like it was about ready to start glowing at any second.

The eyeholes had some sort of green-ish lenses in them, though I could've sworn they were clear from the inside. It looked alright, in my opinion, but then again, my taste in general aesthetics was strange at best, so who knew what other folks would think of it.

Of course, with the helmet off, I was able to get a good look at my head, and what I saw wasn't encouraging. The skin of my face, formerly slightly pale, was now gaunt and practically grey, with more of the leathery black scales I'd seen on my arm cropping up behind my ears and around the edges of my face. Most of my hair, previously dark blonde and long enough to stretch below my belt, had now gathered together into an array of thick, ropelike scale-things. My eyes had changed the most, though. The sclera and iris had become matching shades of new-leaf green, while the pupil had become vertically slitted. I quickly put the helmet back on after that.

Thus, I finished up with what I was doing at the water source and headed back to the cave, considering the item storage thing I apparently had on the way back. Quite frankly, it sounded similar to the concept of "Hammerspace" to me, which basically flew in the face of everything I thought I knew about physics and reality. Yet another thing I'd have to get used to, it seemed.

The system for accessing it, according to ADA, was both simple and complex. It required intent, imagination, and some decent ability to conceal things in order to execute properly. As I knew from shows back home, stuffing things into shirts, behind the back, up sleeves, into hair, and other such places were common ways of doing so on a personal level. That said, if I wanted to do something about making Gilraea's former hoard my own, as I was itching to, I'd have to find a way of showing everything in a much more efficient manner than cramming inside my armor a fistful at a time.

I was considering the option of using my helmet as a "bottomless" scoop when my eyes fell on a cloth-like item atop the pile. Immediate investigation revealed it to be a cloak of sorts, dingy brown in color, and a little big for someone of my size. Nonetheless, I put it on, and after a few semi-dramatic test swooshes, I had a brilliant idea. Of course, I doubted it'd be successful, due to how stupidly simple it was, but I had to try.

One flourishing spin of the cloak later, and just about everything in the cave had successfully been added to ADA's list of my personal possessions. After that blatant wizardry, I was officially done with the world for the day, so I pulled out the tent and sleeping bag I'd grabbed before leaving home, set them up, and turned in for the night. By then, I was hoping I'd sleep off whatever chemical-based hallucinogen had obviously induced this crack fantasy and wake up in some sort of cell on Earth the next morning.

Regardless of where I woke up, though, I had to admit... it was the best damn sleep I'd had in a good long while.

~~~~
(Hours later, in the present...)

I snapped back to my current surroundings, to find myself still sitting on the tent I'd fallen asleep in yesterday, still wearing weird armor and with still mostly-draconic physiology. In my lack of attention, I'd apparently pulled one of the gold coins from before out of my metaphorical ass, and was now fiddling with it. Testing its weight, feeling the faces and edges, spinning it, tossing it into the air on occasion... My ADHD had found something to keep me occupied, at least.

ADA said.

I groaned, choosing to flop back down in my sleeping bag and throw an arm over my eyes instead of answering coherently. I had a feeling that it was going to be a long day, at the very least. Little did I know what sort of shenanigans would soon await me...

Author's Note

Deleted moment...

Dragoness (Gilraea): I'll have you inside me, one way or another.
Caldoric: ...I need an adult?
Dragoness: I am an adult!

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Change Comes on Tattered Wings...

Chrysalis knit her brows together in frustration. She had not expected this "Caldoric" character to begin bonding with one of her own in the way he had: while not unheard-of, it was uncommon in these parts for a non-changeling to accept an unmasked changeling for who they were, even in spite of any prior deceptions... but to so readily drench them in song and platonic affection, purely based on shared adversity? Inconceivable!

Admittedly, she too had been moved by Caldoric's song, even through the watered-down reception she had via her masked presence in their mini-network. These... "Humans," she silently mused in her bedchamber, they are a most unusual bunch, I must admit. Even when nearly drowned in pure Fear energy, his mind was all awhirl, where a mere Pony would've keeled clean over. He even went so far as to try and fight back! Defiant, they are, yet capable of the same level of compassion as most Equestrians; a most unusual combination. I simply must make him mine, even if for no other reason than to curry Makuta's favor.

And yet, how to most effectively control him? That question, it would so appear, is the key to all things...

She took a moment to consider her options, before an inkling of an idea came to her.

Wait... the power of Fear slowed him, if only for a moment, before it gave over to anger, though he did not use even the most instinctual of magics that a natural wielder like myself -- or, yes, even a unicorn, -- might try in such a situation. Yet he showed a distinct ability to do so earlier, which indicates either he uses direct magic only sparingly, or he is completely new to the concept of doing so at all. He also made no use of the natural, more subtle draconic fire-magic, nor of the equally subtle flight magics... Could it be that his kind are completely unused to magic as a whole? That they are more physical than metaphysical? After all, he did let slip that his present appearance was not his natural one: perhaps he meant more than merely his armor?

Hmm... That would explain why Hunger was so much more effective against him, though he's obviously shrugged off its effects just as quickly as with Fear before it. Perhaps, if I... No, I should confer with my mas-- with Makuta, before I consider such a tactic. In the meantime, however, perhaps I should leave them both without food for a few days, so they'll both be more compliant when next I visit them...

~~~~
Several days later, Chrysalis was subject to equal measures of surprise and satisfaction when she went to physically check on the pair of prisoners. Her surprise came not only from the fact that Midge was looking no more malnourished than when last she'd left him -- in fact, he looked a bit healthier than before, -- but the fact that Caldoric seemed just as determined to take her on in a battle of wits as the first day he'd been dragged into her hive, despite his obviously weakened state. Most ponies would be groveling and begging by now, promising just about anything for even the smallest morsel of food.

"How are you still sane...?" She asked him, knowing full well he'd come back at her with an array of unsavory comments. "You've been days with nothing but water. You should be starving by now!"

"Eh, I got over that a while back, dunno how long ago though." Caldoric said, shrugging calmly. "Thing is, not that you thought to ask, but my kind evolved by way of persistence hunting, which means we are biologically designed to be capable of going extended periods of time without food if need be. A handful of weeks, even, if I remember what I've heard correctly..."

"W-what?! No creature can do that and stay sane! Various races have tried and failed!"

"Who's to say we ever were to begin with? At least, by your standards, that is: we're absolute mad lads, given half the shit we do. Seriously, were you not paying attention to my rant before, when we first met? As for how I'm still holding myself together, and not just rolling on the floor out of boredom? Well, it's simple. Pure rage, Chrysalis: Pure rage. Also Hope, 'cuz that springs eternal. For 'tis hope that girdeth me with strength, and maketh my way forward possible. Hope, that maketh my feet like hinds' feet, and settleth me upon the highest points. Hope, which traineth my hands to war, that a blade of steel would be broken by mine arms. And Hope shall be unto me the shield of our salvation, for Hope lifteth me up, and its gentleness shalt make us great...!"

Chrysalis swiftly grew tired of his jabs, barbs, and strangely oft-changing manner of speaking, and acted upon the advice and training of her master. Weaving together at least a half-dozen different Makuta powers in one hand, (which thankfully had the effect of shutting Caldoric up,) she grasped him solidly by the face and lifted him bodily. As he began struggling, she flooded his form with Hunger to drain his energy, followed swiftly by Fear to slow him up. She then hit him with an extra-strength dose of Sleep to put him down for the count, and Stasis to keep him that way. But that was merely the first step...

As Caldoric went completely limp, the glowing green light of his angular eyes shrank and faded to a pair of flickering white pinpoints in a sea of black. There was an inarticulate cry of dismay from the room's other occupant, but a quick flick of Chrysalis' wrist had the protesting Midge pressed against a wall in the grasp of unyielding Gravity. With him taken care of, she returned her attention to Caldoric. "Alright, then, oh defiant one: let's see how subservient you are after this!"

A triumvirate of Beast Control, Insect Control, and Mind Reading, -- in addition to her influence in the hive-mind's neural network, -- was the next powerset applied to the unconscious being before her, backed up with a nearly surgical level of Anger. As she watched, Caldoric's body twitched a number of times, and the faint glow in his eyes began growing larger and more noticeable, taking on a deep, flaming orange hue that had even Chrysalis mildly concerned. The brightest portions of them, which seemed to serve the purpose of Pupils and Irises, were still small and unfocused, flicking every which way in jerky motions.

"You...!" Chrysalis said, with a forceful, commanding tone. "Heed my words, and obey! You serve me, and by extension, the one known as Makuta Teridax, and as far as you are concerned, our word is your law. If we tell you to jump, you ask 'how far?'. If we demand you give your life for any reason, you will do so without hesitation. Your only desire is to be of service to the Swarm, and by extension, to the forces of Makuta. Do you understand?"

There was no vocal response from the figure before her, but she could definitely feel that she'd gotten its mental attention through her lingering mental connection with it. Its right eye, the only one visibly uncovered by her clawed fingers, "swiveled" drunkenly before locking with her gaze. As it did, the beginnings of a grin could be seen leaking from beneath her hand. Without warning, the figure's mouth slowly opened to allow its tongue out, where it briefly pressed against the underside of her wrist and squirmed.

Before Chrysalis could get over her shock and jerk her hand back in disgust, Caldoric's body acted on its own. It seized her wrist all too tightly with its one good hand and, with the speed and precision of a snake, yanked its face from her grasp and bit down hard upon the softer material between her thumb and forefinger. Teeth like daggers and needles pierced the flesh and armor of the hand, only to come away stained the milky dark cyan of her blood, which dripped from the ill-gotten chunk of her hand held in its maw. Already, the monster was gnawing on the piece in the wake of their disentanglement, chuckling and grinning widely as it backed away on all fours. It never broke eye contact until it had finished chewing and had swallowed.

Chrysalis, however, was desperately trying to stem the flow of blood from her savaged hand, and was busy slowly backing out of the room when it spoke.

"That's gotta be the best thing I've ever eaten... hands down." It said, still chuckling.

As she rushed from the room and snapped the exit aperture shut, she heard the beast cackling madly as the now-abandoned Midge began running and shouting for help. Seconds later, long after his verbal pleading had faded over distance, she heard his mental cries cut short, though not as abruptly as she feared would happen. She felt sorrow, shock, and confusion, followed by fear above all else. But he was definitely not dead if her continued mental connection was anything to judge by... yes, this was a matter to discuss with Teridax if ever there was one.

~~~~
A few days later, she walked once more down the hallway leading to the cell, doing her best not to look at the strange object she was carrying, let alone think about it. Her hand had already healed within the first half-hour after having received the injury, though the flesh there had grown back in a slightly lighter shade of her normal blackish-grey. Meanwhile, the object of her intended ignorance was a mask, of sorts. It was a most unusual one, being long and vaguely saurian in design, though instantly recognizable as being shaped to approximately fit the former Caldoric's head...

That was another thing: given the apparent success of her mental meddling, Chrysalis was of a mind to give the seemingly-new "personality" an equally new name.

But it was of no concern in this moment: the Mask was what regrettably occupied the forefront of her mind. It was metal, and a little heavy for its size. Its surface was rusted and pitted, giving off an air of having been subject to ages of wear and abuse, yet in truth it had only been forged by Teridax himself the day before. In the time between its forging and now, he had taught Chrysalis of an aspect to her new powers that she had not been aware of: the ability to imprint a portion of her essence into a mask, "corrupting" it such that any being who wore it would become enslaved to her will, and thus were able to be controlled remotely.

It was one of the methods of achieving this end result that bothered her, however. The idea of direct influence was one thing, but seeing her master pull a long, writhing, serpentine creature from within his very armor had her more than squicked her out.

Her train of thought was derailed by the sound of an explosion farther up the tunnel. She quickly identified the source as she rounded a corner to see a portion of the wall blown in, granting free access in and out of not-Caldoric's cell. The guards posted outside had been rendered unconscious by the blast, and some were at least partially buried under rubble. Not-Caldoric stood proudly in the hole, lowering his wings from their formerly spread position, his tattered cloak covering them as they folded against his back. As he noticed Chrysalis, locking his wild eyes with hers, she made use of another power that had been granted to her by her transformation.

As Slowness took hold of not-Caldoric, all speed and inertia was robbed from him, leaving him almost as still as a statue. With several quick strides, Chrysalis made her way over to him and deftly secured the mask over his face. It left him room to see, and to marginally speak, but not enough to bite anyone or anything else anymore.

"Help the others," Chrysalis barked without even looking at Midge, whose notably thinner form had just cautiously peeked out of the chamber.

"Y-yes'm...!" He responded, and staggered over to assist the afflicted guards. Meanwhile, Chrysalis released not-Caldoric from the Slowness effect and warily surveyed him. Not-Caldoric, for his part, visibly sagged as soon as he was released: his shoulders slumped, his knees flexed, and his head drooped momentarily.

Neither of them moved for several seconds, before not-Caldoric lifted his head once more and looked around, seemingly in confusion. The glow of his eyes was still a vibrant orange, but the pupil-like bright spots were notably wider now, as Chrysalis quickly noticed when he locked eyes with her. His expression was a mix of confusion, anticipation, and even a hint of reverence.

"Where..." He seemed about ready to ask something, but trailed off, perhaps searching for the right words. "...where is this place?" His tone was a little harsh, as if he was almost, but not quite, holding himself back from demanding the information instead.

"This is the Ebonspire hive, home to myself, my fellow Changelings, and a few various others. It's your home, too... if you want."

"...who are you supposed to be, then?" Not-Caldoric asked, looking her up and down rather intensely. "You run this place or something? Yer obviously no good at keepin' shop, if you are..." He gestured to the rubble around them both.

"I am Chrysalis, Queen of the Ebonspire swarm." She answered, biting back a series of potential scathing remarks. "The vast majority of the Changelings in this, my hive, are my own children. The rest -- a mere hooffull, if that -- are expats, adopted strays, political exchanges and envoys from other, allied hives... You understand how it is: one must keep the gene pool flowing, or it will grow stagnant, and diminish."

Not-Caldoric was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "And... what of myself; who am I? Do you know?"

"You..." Chrysalis began, then trailed off for half a moment, considering what to say. "You are an experiment in progress. I made you who and what you are, from head to toe, every piece of your being. You are a force to be reckoned with, a nigh-undefeatable champion of my swarm, your brethren. As such, I am your Queen as much as theirs."

"I meant that more in the sense of 'what is my name,' in all honesty."

"How about... 'Artaegen'? How does that sound?"

"..." Not-Caldoric was silent, considering the name. "I guess it works. But, riddle me this: what if I decide not to stay with you and your brood? What if I choose to strike out on my own against the world?"

"And give up on all this?" Chrysalis asked, spreading her arms wide as she threw open his and Midge's access to the swarm's hive-mind once more. As she did, she sent a silent command to the rest of the hive, ordering them to be as welcoming and accepting of this new consciousness as they could. "This camaraderie? This sense of unity, of belonging to something greater? Together, with the rest of us, you would be made stronger than you are alone. Besides, the world out there is dangerous, and wouldn't understand someone like you: they're all the kind of creatures that would label you a monster as soon as they laid eyes on you just because you're different, and send their strongest members to hunt you down, likely to hurt or even kill you, just as they do to the rest of our kind. They are an unruly lot, and need proper guidance to see their proper places in this world. And the two of us, you and I, we can show them together."

Once again, not-Caldoric paused to consider the offer. The silence stretched on for several awkward moments, before...

"Alright, then. I, Artaegen Ebonpyre--"

"Ebonspire," Chrysalis corrected, before she could stop herself. The newly-minted Artaegen rolled his eyes, and continued.

"I, Artaegen Ebonspire, concede to operating under the rule of yourself, Queen Chrysalis, mistress of the Ebonspire hive, and thus do I swear allegiance to the aforementioned and to all allied parties thereof. Does that sound good enough, your majesty?"

She'd barely needed to make use of the various hooks she presently had in Artaegen's mind to force that decision in her favor; he'd been on the edge to begin with. So, she let the remark slide. "Yes, Artaegen," she said, with an almost natural smile. "It pleases me far more than you know to hear you say that. Come: I'm certain my master will be most pleased to see your progress."

"Wait, what?"

~~~~
Chrysalis wandered idly amidst the assortment of work surfaces strewn about the more experimental section of her master's quarters, located near the deepest section of her hive. Various projects in equally numerous stages of completion were scattered hither and yon, and she could make neither heads nor tails of it all. Teridax was a most strange one, she had to admit: some items looked to be alchemical in nature, while others seemed to be weapons or devices, and still others appeared to be based around the study of organic lifeforms, living or dead.

The few other times she'd come in before, she'd always been confused and/or disturbed by what she saw, and this was no exception. As for her companion, however... He was definitely more intrigued than concerned.

"Artaegen," she called harshly, snapping her fingers as she did, "come away from that: even I hardly understand what most of this is, so I'm certain you can't possibly comprehend how delicate any of it is. Teridax would be most displeased if anything were to be disrupted here..."

It had taken Chrysalis a while to acquaint herself with the unusual facilities of this new, bipedal body, though not nearly so long as it would have taken a non-shapeshifter. No stranger to changing the shape of her body on a whim, she was only mildly concerned at first about the involuntary transformation that had accompanied her recent boost in power and abilities. The new form certainly had its advantages, though she did bear a slight nostalgia for her old, quadrupedal body. But if all it took for a simple power boost was the exchange of one body for another, who was she to criticize? It was the standard M.O. of her species, after all...

"Yes, mistress," came the reply, shaking Chrysalis from her musings as the one she had called “Artaegen” stepped away from the large glass container he had been gazing at; a withered-looking hand was pulling itself back under the ragged cloak that covered most of his form as he did. The container itself was too large to be called a jar or beaker, but too small to be called a tank, and contained a quantity of luminescent green fluid, inside of which floated what was either a fetus or a brain. "I was only curious: 's not like I was gonna tap on the glass or anything..."

"Indeed," a third voice said, much deeper and menacing than either of the room's other two occupants. "You may look, stranger... but don't touch. As for you, R-- er, Chrysalis... I wished to personally offer you my thanks. Through the efforts of yourself and your underlings over the last few days, we now have an inside source of information from within the very heart of the Crystal Kingdom. I understand how hard it's been for you to hold back while in striking range of your old nemeses, Princess Cadence and Shining Armor, but trust me; the time will come for an opportune strike sooner rather than later."

Teridax, former Makuta of Metru Nui, master of Shadows and Deception and generally one of the greatest villains known to the Multiverse, turned his attentions back to Artaegen. "That said, what of this beast you've brought into my sanctum? Was he not to be kept in a cell until he could be made useful, rather than merely lashing out at all around him like a Kane-Ra Bull in a marketplace?"

"My master," Chrysalis proclaimed softly, taking a knee, "that is the very reason for which I brought him to you: his soul has been forged anew, his consciousness awakened, and he has sworn obesience to the both of us, upon his life. I feel that there is much that he can offer to our designs."

There was a pause, as the words sank in. "Is that so...?" Teridax asked at long last, his tone one of careful interest.

"It is, my master." Chrysalis replied, smoothly getting to her feet. "Consider Artaegen to be my gift, to you. A born warrior, he is, and a fitting commander for the armies we are due to amass in time, if I do say myself."

"Indeed..." Teridax replied, eyeing Artaegen up. "And yet, there is still one matter of concern: he is Hordika, and Hordika are notoriously unstable, if not maintained properly."

"Hence the mask," Chrysalis replied, gesturing vaguely to the rusted and pitted metal contraption wrapped around Artaegen's saurian-shaped head. "Among other measures, it should allow him to be, ah, reined in, as it were, if he were to stray too far out of line. But perhaps a test, of sorts, to determine if he be worthy and capable of leading under our design?"

"My design..." Teridax corrected her, and even Artaegen flinched at his words.

"Yes, yes, your designs... A-and if he proves himself useful in this test, he could be trained for grander things, yes? Would this... please you?" Chrysalis, uncharacteristically, was nervous, or so she appeared. Internally, she had already recovered from her blunder, but was letting the momentary weakness play out to appease her master.

As Queen of the Changelings, she knew well the art of appeasement. Of course, Teridax saw right through it, and they both new that he did, but the gesture was till there. Game recognizes game, after all, and Teridax had had far longer than anyone else to hone his game to near perfection.

"A fine offer, Chrysalis," Teridax admitted at long last. "Assuming he pans out, he may yet make a valuable addition to our forces." He then turned his attention to the heretofore silent witness to the conversation. "Now, then -- Artaegen, was it? -- come, and let me introduce you to the horde..."

~~~~
As Teridax lead the three-person procession through the tunnels, he had begun discussing business with Chrysalis while Artaegen listened in silence.

"And so, more of our pieces fall into place with every day," Teridax was saying, "whereas the Equestrian side of the board has been left just as woefully unpopulated as ever these last thousand years. And yet, their lesser numbers have come to be distributed, either by chance or by design, in such a manner as to be potentially problematic for us as we are at present."

"Understood," Chrysalis replied, with a nod. "That said, theoretically, if you were to compare the situation to a game of chess, who would be which piece?"

The massive, heavily-damaged suit of armor that presently housed the essence of Teridax shook its head. "I see why you would draw upon it as a metaphor, but Chess, as we commonly consider it, would not be enough to convey the complexity of our situation. Perhaps, though, if we discarded a handful of the more paltry limitations and expanded the scope of the playing surface, we might obtain a more accurate comparison."

Artaegen muttered something about "Déjà Vu" and a world "covered in a checkerboard," but they ignored him.

"On the Equestrian side of things,” Teridax continued, unabated, “we have the twin Kings, representing the astrological sisters, Celestia and Luna. They cannot do much in the way of action at present, for fear of leaving their precious nation down by one or both of its primary leaders, though that is likely to change in time. Beneath them, they have Cadence and Shining Armor, serving collectively as a single Knight, while the Bearers of the Elements --themselves mere Pawns when separated,-- form another Knight when united. Meanwhile, the differing branches of their pitiful Royal Guard make up a limited handful of Rooks, while the ostentatious Wonderbolts function in place of Bishops. Beyond that, there is the general population of useless Pawns, followed by Discord.

"As the self-proclaimed 'God of Chaos,' -- something I'll not dispute, -- he is a veritable wildcard for whichever side manages to claim his loyalties. However, I have strong suspicions that he would lean in favor of Equestria, on nothing more substantial than a whim and a fledgeling friendship with the meekest of the Element Bearers. If I were to quantify him as a piece, which would not be an easy thing to do normally, I would have to admit that the most equivalent piece would ironically be a Queen, though even that is barely adequate."

Chrysalis nodded and smiled, impressed with her master's assessment. "A most interesting selection, sir. And... what of us? How do we compare?" There was silence for several seconds, and Chrysalis began to fear her question had not been heard, until Teridax spoke at last.

"Unfortunately, while we outmatch them in our ability to produce a vast quantity of fighting forces in short lengths of time, they hardly merit ranking anything too close to the mid-tier pieces. Changeling drones, Visorak, even Rahkshi: their skills are all too diverse, so they are all mere pawns by comparison. You, at worst, are either a Rook, a Bishop, or a Knight; at best, a Queen. As for myself... Though I possess not the same level of power and ability as Discord, I am still far more powerful and cunning than any other on this world, so I am left somewhere between King and Queen. Not the best of spreads, I'm afraid."

"Indeed not," Chrysalis commented, looking concerned. "What more can we do to fix this? Don't we have other beings like Gilraea -- rest her soul -- on our side?"

"She was never of your concern, Chrysalis. The only thing we can do is try to bring in new, more powerful allies. After all, you are not the first to have challenged Equestria's might, nor the latest."

"And what of me?" Artaegen asked, pointedly. "Where do I fit into things?"

Teridax's attention was briefly diverted to the third member of their group. "You are untested as of yet, and as such, you are relegated to the level of Pawn as well. Perhaps, however, if you find your way across the board to the far side, unscathed, we might see what kind of piece you turn out to be in the grander scheme of things."

"Then I can only hope I receive the opportunity for an en passant on my likely circuitous route there," Artaegen replied, still slouching along beside them both. "Just make sure you retain an opportunity to Castle, in case things go South... my Liege.

Teridax actually came to a stop and turned to look at him, and if Chrysalis didn't know better, she would've sworn she caught a glimmer of pleased shock amidst the mild indignation in the Makuta's glowing, borrowed eyes. "I always do," Teridax said, not paying attention to Chrysalis. "That said, perhaps we've more in common, you and I, than I anticipated."

Artaegen merely raised a skeptical eyebrow at him as he moved past. The Master of Shadows, in turn, merely sighed in disappointment and resumed his heavy, stomping gait, and quickly took the procession's lead once more. "That was a compliment, Artaegen."

"Oh, thank you..." Artaegen grumbled, "my liege."

"You would do well to cherish the comment, whelp," Teridax replied, his tone low to partially hide the hard edge behind it. "Such praise comes sparingly, and only when deserved. Now, on another note... our forces, such as they currently exist, are obedient. They do anything I or Chrysalis command, and should you prove yourself worthy, perhaps they might be instructed to do the same for you."

"Of course..."

Chrysalis silently watched the exchange with nervous interest, and noted how it quickly faded into semi-awkward silence for a few moments, until the tunnel they were following terminated upon a balcony. The balcony itself looked out upon a vast underground cavern, almost every surface of which was buzzing with activity, both literally and figuratively. Changelings and Visorak spiders were crawling all over the walls, floor, and ceiling, while the shadows at the edge of things were occupied by tall, hunchbacked, semi-reptilian mechanical figures with dual-tipped staffs. As the three of them came to the balcony's railing, many of the beings present in the open space silently turned their attention to the trio.

"Behold," Teridax suggested, "the forces at our command: they are Changelings, Visorak, and Rahkshi, and they are all legion. Perhaps, Artaegen, you'd like to say a few words...?" He gestured invitingly to the mass of beings, who were all still looking back at them expectantly.

Artaegen glared into the middle distance for half a moment, then vaulted up and over the railing. His deformed left hand maintained a surprising grip as he leaned precariously into the open air, given the arm's sickly appearance. With the cloak cast behind himself, his unusual body was now revealed to all who saw him: the near-seamless integration of flesh and machine was somewhat off-putting, almost like something out of a sci-fi first-person shooter game, only more bestial. One foot was digging into the stone of the balcony's supports with its raptor-like talons as the other hung loose, his draconic wings were spread wide, and his bladed, reptilian tail waved slowly from side to side.

Without any warning, Artaegen inhaled deeply and then let out the loudest, most horrendous sound Chrysalis had ever heard from a living being, though Teridax seemed unfazed by it. The whole thing was multi-tonal, with a deep bassy rumble and a high, banshee-like screech that contrasted horribly with the two or three other layers she could marginally make out. It was enough to send a spasm of momentary fear down her back, especially when coupled with the resounding message he'd sent across the hive-mind: an assertion of dominance combined with the issuance of a challenge of authority to all who heard, the likes of which was best not ignored. Chrysalis hated to admit it, but she had a gut feeling that if Artaegen was given the chance to command, he'd likely be on par with the level of hive control she herself had possessed before meeting Teridax.

The reaction of the untold numbers within the chamber was nigh instantaneous. Nearly all who were present fired back with roused cries of their own, answering favorably to his call. There were a few dissidents, however, mostly within the Changeling camp, who did their best to hide their grumbling within the hive-mind itself, though only Chrysalis was skilled enough to pick out each individual mind and identify the individual dissidents. She stored this information away for later, on the off-chance it became needed.

The overall cacophony was loud enough to create unsettling reverberations in the chamber. After less than a second, the very earth itself seeming to shudder at the dark promise of that roar.

When the sound died down, Teridax was giving Artaegen a look that spoke volumes. If the suit of armor he was currently controlling had had a mouth, it would've been smiling from ear to ear... Or, whatever equivalent Teridax's kind normally had, that is.

"Lo," Teridax was saying softly, as he turned back to Chrysalis, "I feel that a moment of great consequence has just passed. Be ready: by the time we're finished, many things will have changed in this world." Teridax turned once more and began striding back the way they'd come without further ado.

"Perhaps we shall find a suitable test sooner rather than later..." He mused, and then was gone. Meanwhile, Artaegen had clambered back over the railing, his cloak once more properly draped about himself as he half-bowed to Chrysalis.

She looked at him for a few seconds, making sure to acknowledge his gesture with a curt nod, then turned and began striding down the tunnel after the Makuta. After a display like that, she silently told herself, making sure to hide her thoughts from the Hive-mind, is it truly wise to set him loose upon those who dwell in the light of day? Likely not, in all honesty, but the Plan must be preserved, and as such, my hand in this is cast. But perhaps... if he proves to be all we hope him to be, he may allow us to finally pierce that which has proven an impenetrable barrier to us in the past: the Elements themselves!

This had the gears turning in her head. Already, plans upon plans were stacking up. Yes, yes! If Twilight and her friends can be driven apart, if the faith they hold in one another can be fragmented, then surely the rest of the nation will fall in their wake! Heh! Their Loyalties can be poisoned, their Laughter replaced with screams, and the Honesty between them drowned in silence; Anger could bring their Generosity to an absolute zero, and fear would still their Kindness. And without those five, the Magic of their Friendship -- their Destiny, -- would shatter and crumble, leaving them without Unity, deprived of their sense of Duty, and ripe for destruction with but a single, well-placed blow! But how to proceed...?

~~~~
A few days later, Chrysalis was seated in her throne reviewing reports from Changelings out in "the field," when a ring of sparks suddenly forced itself into existence nearby. As seconds passed, the space within the ring warped, blurred, and changed, then Artaegen stepped through into the chamber. The ring sputtered and died as he exited, leaving him gazing about the chamber blearily and in obviously in confusion.

"Damn," he cursed, when his mind finally caught up with him, "this wasn't where I was looking to come out..."

"Wh-- how did you...?" Chrysalis sputtered, unable to fully process what just happened.

Artaegen shrugged and hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "Got bored, made a door," he said, as if that explained everything. "Now, if'n ya don't mind, I'mma go for a walk..." He then turned and began slouching off.

"Not. So. Fast..." Teridax's voice said from nowhere in particular, before its owner stepped out from behind Chrysalis' throne. Not an easy feat, given that he was easily half again as tall as the throne in his current form. "Where do you think you're going...?"

"North...ish? Sorta East." Artaegen shrugged. "Dunno where, really: just got this urge to head up North-ish, figured I'd know when I arrived by the time I got there."

"Hmm..." Teridax murmured. "North, with a slight easterly bent, you say...? Well, then, perhaps this is a perfect opportunity for your test..."

Author's Note

And thus, the backlog of chapters I had saved up is now exhausted.

Who knows what the next chapter will bring? What does Artaegen's "test" promise? Will Teridax ever reveal the secret of the Moon? And what of Caldoric's fate? These questions, and more, will be answered in the next few chapters... I hope.

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