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?)