A Surging Progression

by citrusorange

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Tempest Shadow, Pharynx, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe
Length: 14038

Pharynx won't ever accept these new Changeling customs. He won't ever accept the lovey-dovey ways of his peoples. Even on his death bed he won't ever sympathize for the Ponies like his people do. Maybe he'll tolerate, for the sake of Her.

Despite all of Pharynx's rage, the grouchy lovebug still is mentally trapped in a cage.

A struggle between acceptance, grief and dismissive tendencies is all Pharynx has left when it comes to the ever-changing customs of his peoples. A rebellion is the last thing in his mind; fight his own brother? Blasphemic, the entire recorded Changeling history (barring Chrysalis) has never seen such civil conflict between one another. It's always been united under one banner, one Queen.

But now, Pharynx is left a bitter shell of what his usually grouchy shell used to be. It seemed that the Ponykind is left dawdling with teachings of friendship and peace, and it's eating his people with them. Assimilating. Conquering.

Until Her.

The cover is here.

What's the T-rating for? I don't really know! Maybe for some language? Or a little dash of violence? Sure, let's try it out.

Featured January 24th, 2025. Why? I don’t know either!

Published 2020-05-08 12:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2025-01-25 02:13:33 UTC

Stand-In-Bug

"You wish," Pharynx started.

"Yes, brother. Must we go in circles?" Thorax groaned, rolling his eyes at the devilish smirk of his older brother.

"For me to attend the meetin' in your stead," Pharynx egged with a condescending tone.

"Because I promised Ocellus and her little friends that I'd.. go to their tea party," the King mumbled, accentuating his embarrassment by tapping his hooves together like a child caught taking a cookie out of the cookie jar.

"You want me to discuss trade, economy, security, the future of the Hive for you... because you promised foals you'd go to their tea party."

"Well, when you say it like that..."

"I'll do it."

"I owe you a million times over the moon, dearest brother," Thorax's smile returned sheepishly to his face, as the taunting smirk on Pharynx's face slowly melted down into his usual scowl. The elder brother waved him off with a lazy wave, rolling his pupil-less eyes.

"What are Princes for, Thorax? Am I expected to leave now?"

"Well, I usually like to talk about my big day with some of our citizens for an hour or so before I left, but you can leave right now if you'd..."

When Thorax looked over to where his brother was standing, the brother in question was gone. A whisk of air was all he left behind, alongside a few dizzy changeling gardeners attending the throne room's small garden pit that dipped off into the stair case just to the left of Thorax's throne.

"...like." He finished weakly, sighing before setting off to go entertain foals.

To get away from the diseased Hive for at least a few hours' flight was all the words you needed to tell Pharynx to go ruin his public relations with Pony ambassadors in Canterlot. That, and scare some ponies too. That never got old. That, and the damned feeling that had been tugging at him ferociously for a couple years now had also been bugging him. It seeped into his bones, his chitin, moving his mouth into that determined answer for Thorax's childish plight. An unending cacophony of annoyance bubbled into a three-word answer.

He'll do it.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to, now. It seemed as if he was being controlled. Something was controlling him. Moving him away from the Hive, coercing him to the ponies so they'd subdue him, and take over the weak bugpony Hive that he swore himself bitterly to protect. Kill him, torture him, maybe try to hold him ransom for something Pharynx's peoples hold. He doesn't want that, nor does he need that kind of history to go down in this world's book.

That, or it's his hunter's intuition. There's something out there big for him to tackle, for him to conquer and bring him to his peoples to boost them further from the clutches of Ponykind. Perhaps he'd be able to honor his ancestors in the best of ways, after all. Maybe he's just being sent to his death, a natural calling to try and fight something bigger than him, more powerful than the Elements, more cunning than Discord, more intelligent than Sombra.

Maybe something as lying as that filly.

"Anythin' to remove this annoyance," Pharynx steeled himself with a growl. His wings buzzed angrily as he thundered himself forward, causing the wind to howl in his ears. Canterlot was not too far from where he was. He was exiting the slowly rehabilitating lands of the Badlands. The scarce fauna was being replaced with forests, lakes, jungles of all shades and sizes, stretching out as far as his eyes could see. The land of the Manticore.

His tongue had managed to flick out to lick his fangs in anticipation, his fangs immediately drying in the screeching winds he was blowing through with blurring, powerful flaps of his wings. Maybe he could take a quick detour to take one of these legendary beasts as a trophy. Something to intimidate the ponies with, to let them know he wasn't some Thorax that could easily be manipulated into allowing such blaspheme into his life, or his peoples' lives. Yes... a singular claw of the manticore, and leave a little splash of fresh blood to let them know it's real, and it isn't a joke. That predatory smile stretched itself across the bloodthirsty Pharynx's face.

A true warrior can never be a politician, after all. If they were, the world would be cast into never ending war. The sky would be orange and black with the hue of fire, smoke and devastation. The world would be cast into an eternal suffering atmosphere of oppression, hatred and blood to fuel the fire of the changeling war machine. It would only bubble up to its absolute limit before being released violently into the world of the ponies. Rows of cocooned ponies, feeding the thousands; no, millions of changelings storming the gates of Canterlot, taking the Sisters down once and for all, to avenge the loss of the invasion many years ago.

Though to be honest, he never liked Chrysalis anyways. The plan was perfect in theory, but Chrysalis never had a talent with executing it properly. Back to pressing matters that thundered in his skull; he'd never usurp his brother, but Chrysalis-be-cursed he was making it so hard to not want to. It'd never happen, as Pharynx's word is always his bond, and he will forever retain his promised self-wish to preserve the security and future of the Hive.

As much as he loved the Hivemind, he'll admit with a frown that could kill a puppy's soft look instantly that the individuality aspect of each changeling would spawn those who tried to uphold the traditionalist ideals of Pharynx's peopl-.. of their peoples. Was it him, or was he starting to think more like a Thorax the closer he got to the untainted Canterlot?

Only a couple more hours to Canterlot. Yeah, he could use that detour. Something to squash this ponythinking from his head. Preferably a manticore. Specifically a manticore. Desirably a manticore. A manticore. Yes, Pharynx wanted to slay a manticore in case his thoughts weren't clear enough for you.

Landing in a large clearing, complete with the rustle of disturbed tall grass and a fwoosh of air, Pharynx was quick to survey his surroundings. To his knowledge of such a populous but legendary animal, they typically stalked like cats in the forests, always revealing themselves at their own opportune time. Hey, speaking of opportune--

Pharynx's wings buzzed, flinging his own body away as the powerful swipe of an aforementioned being's claw ran through the air with a low whistle. Angling his body to cut into the earth to slow his rapid acceleration, Pharynx cocked his head up at the beast. Scars of all shapes and sizes lined the big beast's body, complete with an eye-less socket, completely ruining any vision on its left side. Looked about as tough as the biggest of them would get, despite its slightly underwhelming size.

"Not so big as the old hunters said," Pharynx huffed, eyeing the beast up and down. It merely bristled with a snarl, resetting its position to face him, ready for anything. "Or are you what they call a runt?"

The beast's good eye had the pupil turn into a pinprick as the veins seemed to bulge out angrily. Its chest swelled with air before it gave a thundering cry, shaking the earth beneath Pharynx's hooves as he stood unimpressed. Silence reigned as Pharynx cocked an invisible brow to the manticore's show of dominance. It wasn't bad. Not bad at all. Not impressive, but not terrible. "Not bad," he nodded sagely.

A vicious concoction of green and purple smoke whisked into the air as the horrid spider-bug form of Pharynx released itself to the world, matching the same size as the manticore who only tightened its stance at the sight of Pharynx's transformation. The large, bulging arms known as chelae tittered on the ground before stabbing themselves straight into the dirt. Pharynx leaned back, sucking in air for his mighty roar, which shook the trees and scattered blades of grass. The loose grass danced in the air violently until the roar ended, of which the concert of dancing grass slowly fluttered back into the cities of fauna it came from.

"But mine's better," Pharynx boomed. The manticore charged, and the mighty form of Pharynx charged as well.

Riding a feral manticore to Canterlot was going to make a great impression on the weak ponies. How his ancestors would be so proud. The entire altercation never removed that annoying feeling that coursed through his body like a poison. However, even if he didn't show it with his stoic gaze and eternally unimpressed frown, Pharynx internally was very satisfied with his violent tango with the manticore. The fresh wound on Trachea- he named the manticore Trachea -would prove to be a fine addition to the fine beast's collection.

It was not without good sportslingship that Trachea return the favor; the newly fashioned cut that danced from the left side of Pharynx's snout, slashing across jaggedly to the other side was added not too short after Pharynx's arm tattoo on the aforementioned Trachea.

Ah, there it was. Canterlot. The City on the Mountain. The Capital of Pony Civilization. The Equine's Blessed Grounds. He could go on and on for hours about all different corners of Equestrian's denizens giving affectionate names and titles to the capital city. It wasn't very capital-like when Chrysalis almost took it for her own. Wasn't very blessed-- he takes that back, it was very blessed. That love blast still put aches in a specific spot on his chest to this day.

A good Pharynx will not desecrate the Equestrian's land. A good Pharynx will obey the new demands and customs of foreign policy of his King. A good Pharynx would never be led astray from the mission. And that's what Pharynx did, but not before leaving a good portion of Equestrian's beautiful forests in turmoil after his recent bout with his newly minted companion.

He had already seen the pegasus scout of the Royal Guard coming a couple miles away, and didn't dare slow down the beautiful flying of the manticore, and instead blew by the scout who in turn flapped his wings angrily to match the same speed as the beast. He also kept a healthy distance, shouting over the winds.

"Can I have a name?! Or where you're going?!?"

Pharynx kept his chin up like a noble would, looking over with a stiff posture at the slowly exhausting pegasus. "Prince Pharynx of the Changeling.. Kingdom. Diplomacy," the regal attitude dropped with a ferocious snarl. "If you're not here to announce me, then get out of my way."

"I'll- I'll lead you to the landing pad, milord!" The pegasus gulped, a slight pant entering his voice before he snapped his arms forward to give him a straight acceleration towards a nearest landing point closest to some council chamber Pharynx never cared about. He was also screened by two more pegasus guards, but was nonetheless allowed access through.

"Keep that manticore on a chain! Or binded, or.. something!" The third and final interfering guard said.

"I'll put you in a chain if you insult my royal companion again, maggot!" The short-tempered changeling flared. The pegasus yipped as a lazy swat of the manticore made him freeze up and immediately disappear into the winds, left behind by the speed of the manticore. Trachea slowed the flapping of his wings, taking great strides for a comfortable landing. After all, it took a warrior's conversation to have the great beast admit defeat and accept the surprising offer of Pharynx's question of becoming his companion of battle. Promises of glory and bloodshed didn't need much to be said from Pharynx. One look at the changeling and Trachea had already known the madling was a being of warfare.

"Your Hhhheee.. hhhigh... Highness, Your most gr- gracious Highness, I suggest we enter through the council chambers here to meet with the Princess and her noble council." The first guard from earlier had been flushed with exhaustion, air seeming to be more of a concern to him than addressing Pharynx. His lips curled at the hidden disrespect. That, or he was overthinking it like Thorax said he overthinked most things. It was all for security and the good of the Hive, something that Thorax would never understand. Another thing to monologue angrily to himself about.

However, the desperate coughing of the guard broke Pharynx of his inner monologue. He stared at the tired guard, before a devilish smile came to his face. "Direct me to them, then."

The guard nodded, weakly motioning towards the pony-sized wooden door to their left. "Of course, milord, now if you'd just fo- .. follow me.."

"With my companion."

The guard stopped, turning around with wild eyes, energy renewed in his body and air seemingly forgotten. "Milord? I- I wouldn't do that, sir. Th- The door doesn't even fit him!"

The smile only remained as Pharynx's horn shimmered a sickly purple. "I can make that change."

"I- I really don't think that it's a good idea, milord! Sir Pharynx, Your Highness!"

With a flash of purple and the splintering of wood and marble, the slackjawed pegasus was left gaping at an appropriately sized hole for Pharynx and his companion Trachea to traverse through. And several more crashing noises for the stairwell to accommodate for Trachea was quick to follow. Slowly, the guard took off his helmet and held it over his chest, sitting back on his haunches.

"I'm so fired."

Author's Note

Did some editing. I hope the future chapters are a lot more fleshed out, more wordsy-words and less the speed of trying to throw an introduction out and more of a relaxed writing mood. Hope it's not too incorrect, but I hope you enjoy this tangy story! 🍊

Diplobug

Silence was the chambers that held the noble council, including the two Princesses themselves. Both held hidden amusement in their eyes, regarding the stoic Pharynx who had wordlessly stepped in with a very feral and very frightening manticore by his side.

They could see the non-converted changeling beaming with a predatory grin, practically seeing him munch and slurp up all the rippling layers of fear coursing through the air, being funneled appreciatively into his spiritual gullet. His posture seemed a bit taller with each passing moment, and with each breath the nobles around the Prince took, he sat a little higher and higher. He crossed his forelegs on the table, giving an intimidating glare to combo with his shining toothy grin.

He hated the taste of fear but loved the dominating rush it gave him.

"Prince Pharynx," Celestia regarded with a polite nod of her head. Unfazed, knowing what he was trying to do. "What brings you to Canterlot, and without your brother, no less?" The question caused many nobles to remember where they were, who was what, and what was happening. It was a collective light bulb that sounded off in their heads as their stiffened bodies and trembling nerves hit their peak.

It was true. Pharynx avoided Canterlot like the plague, and according to the many talks she had with the King of the Changelings, it seems Pharynx was still suck in the old ways of his peoples, and refused to change for the fear of losing what he perceived as what made the changelings who the changelings are.

He was purely a violent soul, raised to be a machine of death and destruction, cast into a land of peace and tranquility. Traditionalist at heart, he was still rebellious nonetheless. And as all with a rebellious nature do, they rebel against what changes, or holds them. A self destructive path is all she could see for the poor stallion of war, who licked his fangs next to the noble named Shiny Brass, who had the misfortune of sitting next to the infamous Prince.

Urine trickled and pooled at the floor around Shiny's seat, and it seemed even the slightest movement from the Prince struck him with another panic attack. The air was held with an iron grip of the Prince, and none escaped it. Celestia swallowed as Luna remained still as stone. Celestia could tell her younger sister was thinking, calculating, observing. Something was brewing in her head, and Celestia had an inkling of a clue.

Then, he spoke.

"I come as a replacement to Thorax," Pharynx's eyes narrowed as he caught the eye of a few disgusted nobles who had not yet committed to submitting. "King Thorax." They immediately stiffened at his villainous tone, seeing it appropriate to look everywhere but the changeling Prince.

It gave him his ego a boost like no other. The bitterness of the fear emotions' taste paled and was pushed dominantly in the backseat while this predatory feeling of euphoria took over. Dominance reveled in his smirk as he regarded Celestia with a piercing gaze. A gaze she returned, herself.

"Right," Celestia said. "Luna, if you will?"

The Princess of the Night popped her neck, blinking owlishly at her sister before regaining composure. Clearing her throat, and adjusting her hooves, Luna cast what she tried to perceive as a confident gaze around the room. "First, we shall begin with discussion of tariffs," Luna began with a slight yawn, shaking her head briefly. She hated these monthly events. "It has come to our attention that the tariffs in the Griffonian Lands are.."

"No. We'll talk about the Badlands, first," Pharynx grunted. The room halted again as the gaze of all fell on the blunt Prince. Celestia quirked an eyebrow while Luna's tired frown grew on her face. Her eyelid twitched as she cocked her head and cleared her throat.

"We may talk about the Badlands' tariffs once we are finished discussing the Griffonian Lands." Luna tried her hoof at compromise, but it seemed the unimpressed look on the Changeling Prince's face wasn't good enough. Trachea's wings twitched, and a couple of guards readied their spears quickly.

Trachea growled at the guards, causing them to take a step back, while Pharynx bared his fangs with a glare at Luna. "I said the Badlands first, your majesty."

Luna winced. Pharynx's harsh glare bore into her very soul, threatening the nimble serenity that was slowly building over the short amount of time she spent here, piercing the lessons of her older sister easily. Gone was Nightmare Moon, and it was evident with her unsure stuttering against Pharynx's stone wall resolve.

Thankfully, Celestia was there to save the day. "If it makes you feel better, yes, we may start with the Badlands' problems and we can work to possibly rectify them today."

Pharynx relaxed his glare significantly, his look now transfixed at Celestia. Were she any other lesser being, she would've felt the feeling of being a defenseless prey at the mercy of a monstrous predator. She only smiled, and boy did that smile make Pharynx's blood boil.

A smile of thinking she has something over him. A smile that he'll forever see as each and every last of his kind is purged, assimilated into pony culture. Ponies. He hated ponies.

"Tariffs. They're too much," Pharynx snarled. "You take too much of us for what little we get. Thorax is complacent, I am not."

Celestia nodded. "So I have noticed, Prince. Perhaps you'd like to renegotiate, then?"

"Yes," Pharynx leaned back in his seat. Trachea looked at his new master do this as Pharynx continued, "I want a ten percent decrease of tariffs on love shipments. A compromisable decrease of raw mineral resources' shipments by five percent to accommodate."

"Preposterous − Insanity − That will raise taxes to us, we can't allow that − You think just because you scare us you can propose this − How dare you − Too steep of a change!" A chorus of middleaged stallions and mares alike cried out in defiance, overtaking their fear in an instant. The council erupted in chaos, each vying for their word to be spoken over the other.

Each plead their case against Pharynx's demands. Clothes creased and vocal chords echoed throughout the room, causing some guards to flinch at some mares' banshee wails. Hooves were stomped on the table, spit was unwittingly spat in angry monologues.

Yet, one thing remained constant through this sudden chaos. The 'mad' Prince himself, Pharynx. The Prince's body remained still as stone, his eyes staring down Celestia with a challenging glare.

Luna cleared her throat. The council immediately silenced as Celestia tapped her sister's hoof underneath the table. Luna's words immediately retreated down her throat as she conceded this one to her older sister. A case of watch and learn, kiddo from the elder Princess. "And what brings this sudden change on, Prince Pharynx?"

Pharynx stopped, thinking briefly. It had been a while since he'd seen a proper fed section within the Hive. Yes, yes, they were all 'fed' but none were truly happy. Many lived off of their love payments week-to-week and struggled to make ends meet for such a valuable payment.

For all the love they shared among themselves, they still needed an extra kick to help the new generations they were growing every year to be completely self sustainable.

He went with his gut and decided to tell a white lie. "We are comfortable, but not comfortable enough."

Celestia's lips pursed, her head lowering in thought. Well, such a stark change in those tariffs and trade negotiations weren't inherently bad for Equestria. Truth be told, she had originally thought Thorax's selfless deals weren't at all positive for his Kingdom, and rather enjoyed Pharynx's domineering stance on this ordeal.

However, with everything in place.. such a drastic decrease could put some economics in jeopardy for a moment. Luna looked over towards her elder sister, wondering what she was thinking.

A few days of nobles' whining was more than well enough for Celestia to tolerate for the sake of the Changeling people. Her head raised elegantly as eyes went to her. Even Pharynx's hoof tapped the table once in anticipation. The sun in the sky seemed to shine a little brighter with Celestia's serene gaze centering on Pharynx's scowling visage.

"Perhaps we could compromise, Prince Pharynx," the solar deity smiled. Jaws dropped as whispers hummed in the council chambers. Pharynx's lips curled in a subtle, smug grin. That was one issue addressed and clearly saved for another time, and that time will be soon. He will not miss such an opportunity like this.

"I have a couple more issues, Your Majesty," he smugly said. Celestia frowned at the tone.

"You have our undivided attention, Prince Pharynx," she replied.

"I want to cancel and completely erase the one-sided information exchange. You've studied us in-depth for far too long. I say we take and keep what's ours."

"I am afraid I cannot allow that to happen."

"Why? Because it's stopping you from assimilating us?"

"We must.. learn where and how your people came to existence."

Pharynx didn't like that answer. He pressed with as much diplomacy as an oak tree in a desert, "What? I don't understand. Are you trying to find some secret that we know? Possess our magics, or- or take my kind and erase us? Replace them with little ponies that look like them?" He swayed an accusatory hoof over the nobles, their forms flinching as the shadow of his hoof passed by them angrily.

"No. Our reasonings may be discussed behind private doors, as this is a project between your brother and I that we've sought to keep hidden from the world."

"Hidden? My brother conspires with you?! This- This is blasphemic! Treason!" Pharynx stomped his agitated hooves on the table, almost standing up as several guards lowered their spears. Trachea bristled, despite the guard's now unwillingness to back down. Nobles cowered in their seats or took to taking cover under the table, and Luna's horn ignited in her magics as Celestia remained still.

"Stand down, Prince Pharynx," Celestia ordered. Pharynx stiffened, jaw opening and closing only twice before realizing where he was. He glanced over the cowering populace, the threatening shimmer of Luna's horn, and the guards' readiness around him. Counting to ten in his head, he glared at Celestia before relenting. Sitting down, and thus adding a few extra minutes onto that ticking time bomb of tension.

"I understand your agitated state, Prince. Even your brother was not too keen on hiding this from you, but for the sake of the future, it had to have been done."

Pharynx's jaw tightened as he narrowed his eyes at her. How dare she? She manipulated Thorax into this. Another prime example of ponies being the true evil of this world. Another reason to hate. Yet she looks at him like he's an unruly child! He'll give her a reason to remove that perception of him in her mind. He will. This feeling of true betrayal was none he'd never experience before, even when Chrysalis had tried to return.

"Tell me, Celestia," he didn't bother with the title. Celestia's ear flicked. Pharynx tapped the table daintily, looking back at her with an unnervingly even gaze. "That future is now, isn't it?"

"..Indeed."

Pharynx's teeth ground against each other as Luna's horn ceased shimmering, and many nobles returned to their seats. The guards remained ready, only backing down to stick to the walls again when Celestia gave the order to. Pharynx didn't object anymore. He leaned back in his seat as Celestia caught his conceding attitude.

"Onwards with the rest of the council," Celestia said.

Many could say the meetings went off without a hitch since then, until this new point. A point of challenge between the Prince of the Changelings and the Diarchs of Equestria. A battle of wills. A battle of mental fortitude. A battle of mentality. A battle of.. mental things that only Shiny could think of at the time. The urine had dried on his leg, not from his usually obsessive efforts of keeping things clean or shiny, but from how long he let it sit there.

It was a strange, silent game that the three were playing, and it was strangely fascinating to watch.

Luna looked over at Celestia and quirked an eyebrow. Celestia had caught onto what Luna was thinking about forty minutes ago. She had waited patiently for this opportunity, just before the conclusion of the meeting. Celestia's mouth twitched for only a second before regarding the intimidating Prince. Nobles looked between themselves, while most of them still remained locked in place from just feeling Pharynx's presence.

Pharynx's lip curled, and Celestia's eyes fluttered. Luna blinked, and Pharynx moved his gaze to her while Celestia smiled serenely, satisfied with their engagement.

Pharynx shifted back in his seat, his face confused. Then, it morphed into an unamused frown as he had no idea what the target topic was about between them, but knew what they were doing. It was standard in his home hive's training of identifying other changelings through subtle physical language. You can't out-sneak a Changeling. At least, one who still retains Chrysalis' school of thought and training.

A school of thought doesn't submit to ponies who have to be bailed out by what Pharynx could only call divine intervention. No. Bad Pharynx, don't think about that here and now! Focus!

Celestia struck first, throwing the hook with practiced diplomacy. "So it would seem that we have one last request, Prince Pharynx," She leaned in, giving him a look of a sly dog. "Well, as we have mentioned before prior to your entry, we required King Thorax's presence for an offer to assist in what we perceive as a grave threat."

It was like a vacuum had sucked out all of the leering, sinister atoms that infected the room like a plague. A needle drop could echo at an ear-shattering level with how silent the room become. Trachea pawed at the floor, startling a few guards who were on standby a few paces away.

"Grave threat?" Pharynx's eyes widened, leaning in ever so slightly as his motivation for terrorizing the nobles around him vanished like a flicking switch. The room's sinking air replenished itself with a whiplash of neutrality once again from the step-in changeling.

Celestia nodded as Luna finished the bait that the two sisters concocted between themselves with their recent activity. "Yes. We've sent a patrol to investigate some happenings nearing the border of the Frozen North. They have yet to report of their findings, and we find ourselves short of ponies willing to venture up somewhere so.. dreaded. Perhaps you and your kingdom could have willing participants?"

Pharynx stared. His body was still, eyes glossy. His wings buzzed. His mind racked through the ever-active chambers for deception, and found many tell-tale signs, but his heart was drawn to the clear sincerity in what was perceived as said great threat. There was no Thorax to discuss it with, there was no previous discussion.

There was a mission, and they just decided between that battle of facial expressions (that he had just figured out) that they wanted something to do with him for him.

Something they considered dangerous.

Grave.

Dangerous.

That meant life or death.

His blood bubbled at the prospect. Trachea looked at his master, unsure of his intentions.

Pharynx tapped the table, causing many flinches of the nobles who were watching the mental battle with silent admiration of their Princesses. He clicked his teeth as his head cocked. "I'll play your game, pony. What's this threat?"

Celestia hummed a gentle laugh while Luna smiled, waggling an eyebrow in victory at her sister. It seemed her coat radiated an extra shine now. Her happiness spread through the room, giving the nobles a bit more ease as they had settled in a bit more comfortably into their seats.

It wasn't game-changing, but the notion was there, and it was greatly appreciated. Pharynx raised an invisible eyebrow and waited with a frown. If it was one thing, he could be very impatient with talk.

Actions spoke louder than words to him, anyhow.

"Remnants of the Storm King."

Maybe words spoke louder, here. His blood was rushing. Nope, actions still spoke to him.

"I'll do it." But he'll be damned if words weren't sufficient at supplying how he felt right then and there.

Author's Note

Had to chop up some of the walls of text to make them a lot more easier to read. Trust me, as much as I enjoy writing big 'ole paragraphs that contain big boy words and big boy plot lines, I have a tendency of impatiently skimming over them and missing any cool character development or anything like that.

Kinda don't want that to happen, so I unlazed myself to do it. I really thought I was gonna pull out a big bad lengthy chapter but I don't think it'll align with what I'm going for, here. Boy, I really didn't want to release this with such a giant delay and have only an astounding small chapter to show for it.

After all, the mega delay for literally the same-size chapter as the first one that took me a couple days to pull out was the fact of me debating to myself whether or not to make a meaty chapter or make a comprehensible build-up one to the actual events. Guess I know what I picked.

You know what? Maybe a big bad chapter for something big! Not this build-up mushmush. Maybe. It shouldn't take too long if I commit to the idea. I don't know, the plan is in place but the execution is still improvised. Hope you enjoy this tangy chapter! 🍊

Travelbug

Specifics. Pharynx sort of had a knack for those. Not generalizations, those were fair and simplistic to throw together in a manner of hours, or days even if he wanted to really think into that echelon of thought. If a simplistic specific were to be asked, Pharynx would nod and ask, "Which one?"

It only came with the territory of managing an entire military. And the logistics to ensure the military can have its share while keeping the rest of the kingdom afloat. After all, a Prince isn't a Prince if he cannot do Princely duties. Even if said Princely duties were, traditionally speaking, not this kind of duty. Pharynx didn't mind, no; he enjoyed this. It gave him full control over his aspect of controlling the kingdom.

A diarchy of brothers in all but name. Thorax handled diplomacy, being the face of the kingdom as well as keeping bugs happy and in tune with what they want to do or can do. Pharynx handled pretty much all the important number crunching, keeping the borders stout and their enemies defeated.

Those sorts of things build a figure into what they are, or who they can be. Of course, one could reject these ideas or regulations and just split off to do their own, insignificant thing. This is your Bluebloods of the royals. Pretend to be useful for nobody but themselves.

This is where Pharynx rationalizes this briefing he's being received by this pony in polished armor and ribbons that he definitely didn't earn through combat. This stallion was a Blueblood type, for sure. Snout aimed high as his horn bubbled a disgusting pink, the same pink that was levitating a pointing stick to a board. He tapped at the map of the Frozen North, his monotonous voice droning on and on and on...

"Frozen North is, well, frozen. We'll supply you with warmth packets, enchanted blankets and food you can easily cook up even in those negative degree climates. Your supply will be enough for about a two weeks' trip. Then we'llalalblablablabla...blablablabla...blaaaahhh...blaa...."

Were important words even coming out of this stallion's mouth any more? The more Pharynx gave him a few seconds of his attention, the more he regretted it each time. Of course he listened, but it seemed like it was more expository than important at this rate.

He rested his chin on a hoof, staring at the stallion's mouth. Could ponies ever get tired of their own voices? Apparently not. This pony needed a voice to reassure him. Yet, he's the only one here so he'll supply it for himself.

Sounds strangely like that one stallion who screamed like a pony filly at that large fountain during the invasion.

Pharynx huffed a smile, interrupting the stallion for only a moment. Returning a look, the stallion slowly moved back into his presentation- no, a briefing of the mission he was handing the Prince of Changelings. Though, he had an inkling most of his words weren't reaching the Prince's ears. Nonetheless, he marched on with his verbal assault.

Words meshed into one another, like the screeching of blades crossing in a parry in Pharynx's ears. He flinched with a sound akin to the striking of blades, each new sentence was another clash that only melted into his brain and lulled his eyelids a little bit lower each time.

"...blalbalba...laabalaaa.....blaaaeeeerrrwwwww...We don't know much about wildlife up there, but the Crystal Empire seems to have a distinctive red warning flag all over it. Not much to be said there. Expect some trouble once you leave the Empire. Crystal clear on that regard, hehe..."

Pharynx's tongue snaked around one of his fangs. Remain awake. Find something. Suppressing a yawn, his eyes began discreetly scanning the room instead.

Trachea, the crotchety old manticore, had been hitched outside for this event. Pharynx predicted such a boring feat and would not have his newly acquired companion deciding it would rather treat this middle-aged stallion as a chew toy instead of one of Celestia's prized officers of her palace garrison. A pathetic garrison.

His eyes immediately scanned the room. If it could even be called one. It can, it's just.. it was a small room. One for an emergency addition like himself to a probable high-alarm cause that was the missing unit. Seemed more like a janitor's closet, but not at the same time. A single lamp hung from the ceiling, hastily put there with three different types of rope tied into one another.

The small light gave way to a single, closed window to his right. Dust outlined most of it, and the sill was more gray than it was the brown it was painted to be underneath the muck of cobwebs and dust bunnies. Debatably archaic looking, debatably unmaintained.

Armor clanked as the officer repositioned himself. He spun the framed board to the other side, stopping it with a clink of his polished shoe and the cheap metal holding the board. The pointing stick tapped some more against the labels and names. "You'll be expected to meet and alert the Empire's royalty of your presence and intentions.. although they're in a.. flurry of issues right now on their own... heh.."

Directing his attention to the other side of the room, was a few busted up training dummies and cracked wooden training swords. Was that a training lance stashed underneath the chaotic pile of swords? This room is definitely ancient. Why would they stash him here with this sniveling officer trying to tell him what's what and who's where?

There's no way they're this disorganized.

They are.

To all of the lords of bugs above, how did they lose to this?!

The stallion's voice gave an inflection, a questioning one at that.

Oh no, that was a question.

Pharynx twitched his upper lip subconsciously as a way to transition into a beautifully composed face. He stared into the officer's eyes, grunting noncommittally. Confused, the officer looked left and right before back at Pharynx. He raised a hoof to quickly adjust his glasses before stealing a look at the spin board behind him, then back at Pharynx.

"Milord, are you okay?" The officer asked. His bespectacled, middle-aged face creased a brow with a regal air of concern.

Pharynx rolled a shoulder to get blood flowing through his still body. "Yes. On with it."

The officer eyed the Prince some more but ended it with a shrug. He slapped the bottom of the board. It spun on the frame before coming to a rest at his halting hoof, revealing multiple listed words and phrases.

"As I was saying, the small patrol we dispatched composed of several vanguard units with Marshall Tempest Shadow. They were supposed to report back via magic transportation of documented reports every five days. Unfortunately, they've yet to report a single time. It's been twelve days since their departure, and the concern is very high for their well-being.

"Their call-signs for this operation known officially as Operation Glass, were Cavalier 1 through 6. Cavalier 1 would be Marshall Tempest Shadow, the assigned officer and leader of this patrol. They took a train to the Crystal Empire and traveled on-hoof to the Frozen North."

"With no established contact points?" Pharynx cut in, idly watching a giant clunk of dust fall to the ground. Why are they even in here if it's so forgotten? He's royalty, for pete's sake. He should be getting an at least presentable room. Then again, you're the 'ling who refuses to yield.

For good reason.

"Contact points? Where?" The officer asked. He looked to the board, then back at the Prince of Changelings. The magicked pointing stick tapped on the board three times. "It's too remote to create any so deep into the North."

Pharynx rolled his jaw. This was.. not good. He looked to the officer dead in his bespectacled eyes, "None of them had the initiative nor the orders to establish an HQ or any communications point in the Crystal Empire, or at least near it before they decided to travel into no creature's land?"

"Deuhh.. You see.. I-.. Nnnnnno. Nopony thought about that," he admitted meekly.

Pharynx nodded, giving the board an even look. He thought for a moment. Why even bother? They were clearly goners at this point, and it seemed that the Princesses were desperate for somepony to make a difference. Somepony to save them. They really expected him?

Pharynx wasn't a good pony. He ensured that when he assisted in the Canterlot siege more than he should've. He destroyed ponies' lives, and enjoyed doing it. Yes, he reveled in it. He's not ashamed and won't ever be of his actions as they are justifiable. 'War crimes' came to be because the ponies created their own suggestion draft of things one shouldn't do. No one else follows it but them, so is it really universal?

Even if the 'lings had adhered to it, the Prince doubts they'd uphold it in the invasion. After all, the wind screeching in his ears while he flew across the large, sprawling city of Canterlot was intoxicating by itself. Not to mention the overwhelming taste of fear and surprise that swelled his core, mixing with the camaraderie of his fellow 'ling, pulsating with the orders of the Queen. March onwards, and destroy anything you see.

Diving down on the horrified populace, crashing into so many innocent lives. Destroying what they knew, and cherished. Sucking up the emotions of their loved ones before their very eyes, leaving them to rot as husks of themselves, never to be restored. He laughed in a colt's face, watching in horror as his beloved father pleaded for mercy. Mercy? What mercy was there, to leave Pharynx and his own people starving? If he didn't want to share, then Pharynx would take.

Take, he did.

It was a proud duty to do such a thing for the Hive. A historical day, defeat or victory. A sick satisfaction of seeing lives be snuffed out; innocent twinkles in their eyes extinguished into traumatized sheens of terror. Lovers permanently separated, and families shattered for decades to come. All in the name of Queen Chrysalis. A true honor to serve for her, indeed.

Yes, she had her faults. She definitely hoarded more supplies for herself than what was needed, for the sake of appearing wealthy. She taught the Hive propaganda, and also indirectly taught them how to see through propaganda. Her lies, deception and cruelty to her own people was a toughening serum for the concoction of a fearless, brutal fighting force she would spawn years later for the invasion.

While not entirely caring, she was a true leader when it mattered. Fear and punishment were fine examples to keep them in line, because if one were to create an empire of nothing but love and compromise, they're destined to be steamrolled into oblivion by competition as tough as a rusty nail. Which is nothing.

Pharynx really should crack down on those failed protocols in training. Chrysalis did, and the entire armed forces of the Hive dismantled the entire Equestrian army and nearly subdued all Princesses. Save for a magical conundrum of.. the event, the Hive would be prospering right now.

Yet, here they were.

Every other changeling felt remorse, or a semblance of regret for their actions. They talked at those friendship whatever council circle things about how much they felt bad, and had actually visited the homes of those affected and gave as much as they could to help out what they had taken, destroyed or tainted. Pharynx? He'd still stare down those he had wronged to even the most severe degree, and be confused as to why they wanted sympathy.

He might as well have left hundreds dead in Canterlot after he was through with them. After all, he was separated from Chrysalis's vanguard en-route to the wedding, and made his mark on the citizenry of Canterlot before linking back up with them at the interrupted ceremony. Then, the divine intervention happened. He's still slightly bent out of shape over that ordeal.

Did this make him truly bad? Yes. He was proud of that, rather. You had to be bad to get things done. He gave everything he had to the Hive then, and still does now. What he did, does or didn't do was in the name of the Hive, no matter what it stood for, and he was damned if he wasn't going to serve what the Hive stood for.

Case in point, he serves his brother's weak and pathetic Hive because it is his Hive too, sadly.

Was he terrible? Yes. Yes, he was. He wasn't a savior, and he wasn't a problem solver for ponies of all things. That'd be the biggest blow to his pride if he was a willing one. He's not fixing the mistakes of these flesh bags. They can rot for all he can care. Decision made, Pharynx looked the stallion dead in his eyes and said his piece.

"They're definitely dead."

"Which.. ih.. isssss.. why we've called on your assistance, your lordship!" The officer moved the train wreck of a briefing forward. Surely doing the whole wet-your-legs thing, he flashed a shaky grin to Pharynx.

He didn't appreciate this. A dangerous mission? Duped by the Goddesses of Luck. He was nobody's errand colt. This was no truly dangerous mission, this was a retrieval op. He hated retrieval ops. There's a reason why he led the hunting parties during their recovery. A reason why he was the Prince and not some menial rank for his brother. A reason why he was in Chrysalis's most revered guard, of all things.

Yet. Yet..

The realization strikes.

This was the best action he was going to get. He'd have to settle. It's not like Thorax has any dire, supreme mission for him. The best his brother gives him is cuddle missions disguised as hostage situations, with paid actors. Grumbling, Pharynx curled his lip in displeasure. A shiny fang slick with saliva glistened in the dull light, right to the sweating officer. "So it seems," Pharynx said.

"We- Well, I suppose we.. we could work something out, milord? In-.. In FACT of all things, I do know they were there to investigate and neutralize an alleged rogue Windigo. Very dangerous, milord. Very! They could use your strength, your leadership to guide them if they're.. still alive." The stallion's upheaving speech fell flat at the end with his grimace.

Pharynx rolled his eyes, secretly pleased at the praise. "Alright, alright. I'll do this. You got me."

The stallion's eyes lit up like sparks of electricity. "You- You mean it, milord? Oh, this is just fantastic! I'll uhh.. I'll- I'll prepare your esc-"

"Won't be necessary. I got transportation."

The stallion paused, looking back at the Prince of Changelings. He rolled his jaw, blinking slowly. "...Right. I'll gather your supplies and equipment for this journey. If you'll be so kind, you can possibly find the Princess and Prince of the Crystal Empire, yes? I'm sure they'll brief you over there as well."

Now that is one thing that Pharynx wasn't going to do. Nonetheless, the unimpressed Prince himself gave a curt nod to the officer's rambling. The pony tapped the floor happily with a hoof and quickly bounded out of the room to retrieve whatever it is he was going to retrieve. Food or something.

Pharynx snorted, looking back to the board. "Operation Glass, huh? Wonder why they called it that."

Pharynx trotted over to the board, reading each little tidbit of information the officer provided. Going so far as to flip the board and read the other side. He never was much for studying, but if it was logistics it had to be done right. So, Pharynx continued to read and piece together a puzzle only he could put together in his mind.

Not enough supplies here, not enough there, no true cartography but just a rough sketch provided by scouts before they eventually caught hypothermia almost instantly... the usual. He had to credit them at least; they knew how to put together a bunch of pictures and words that mean nothing. At least this congregation of useless wording came down to a comprehensive list of each pony that had taken on the 'great' voyage.

Ah, that Tempest Shadow. The one he saw at the delegation a month or so ago, and at the whole coronation thing. He was tired of the vicious stink-eyes he was always treated with by ponies. Because he refused to change to what they want him to. He will never be those disgusting, neon colored "changelings" who look almost like ponies more than they do a traditional changeling.

Erasing that train of thought, Pharynx instead turned his direction to the photos of each participant. He felt a wicked grin of his coming on for the pure violence he can see just in her eyes from this photo of her face. Huh, thought the Fizzlepop Berrytwist name was just a joke from my operatives. Guess he should take those idiots' words with more consideration next time. Yet, a question remains since she was the supposed ringleader of this merry troupe of guards:

How did she not plan this thoroughly?

She was the Commander of the whole Storm King thing. It was a pleasure to see Canterlot's illustrious celebration be wrecked and stomped about by the whole fleet he saw during one of his travels to meet with a petty lord of some pony land. Had it not been for we do not mention the unrealistically amazing luck the escape of Twilight Sparkle, she would have successfully detained all Princesses and Equestria would have been hers.

That kind of spells bad luck for the Changelings now that Pharynx thought about it entirely. He was too busy sort of embellishing in the chaos of such events. No border security, no love shipments.. but combat. Maybe that wasn't too bad. Off track again. What was making him do that so often, now?

That chest tugging was back. That feeling has returned. Intuition, or that wretched feeling that twists his innards no matter where he flew? Pharynx overlooked the board again, and felt his tugging intensify. Intuition it is.

Pharynx already saw multiple flaws in this so-called plan he was debriefed on. Matter of fact, this all seemed hastily put together. Incredibly improvised work, almost. In a room that clearly hasn't seen a living soul in centuries, with a stallion who can't seem to give crucial information regarding what was supposedly a highly touted mission. Pharynx could smell a ploy like no other, and it has seemed to all click for this royal sociopath.

He harrumphed, shaking his head as he about-faced and walked towards the door. This was a joke of a mission. An assassination attempt, perhaps? A time for sharpening of blades and the siege of Canterlot but this time actually work? He was no tolerating changeling to Equestrian values, and now it seems like the Equestrian values has done a 180 just for him to be eliminated out of the picture.

No matter, all he has to do is back out of this and inform his brother of his suspicions. Of course they'll go unheard and Pharynx will have to resort to espionage, and all will be normalized again. Situation normal. But then, his chest seemed to have that.. feeling. That feeling feel. That feel that feels.. feeling. It exploded throughout his body, infecting his nerves and freezing them.

Floor slipped under from his hooves and he found himself scrambling to not eat cobwebs and whatever disgusting muck that was hastily swept into corners on the floor. The shoddy desk he reluctantly took a seat in a couple hours ago collapsed with his body smacking against it, crashing and sending dust everywhere.

His effort for balance was for nothing. His head smeared against the floor, putting a good spot of sticky muck on his forehead. Pharynx landed awkwardly on his side, laying there with a deep frown on his muzzle. Huh, so that's what it was like to be a klutz. Not like it mattered, but sometimes you get those thoughts.

Rubbing his head, Pharynx stood up with a grumble. Now that he was speaking of thoughts to himself, what was this incessant feeling in his chest? It had never done that before. He never felt such a strong kneejerk spasm like that. It was so intense it had literally made him sweep the floor with his skull.

Perhaps existing here was just torture enough for his very core. He had to leave this palace and just abide to their lies in order to avoid raising suspicion. Nod with whatever the fool says and leave this place to go forth to the Crystal Empire. Rendezvous with the Cloudsdale patrol he had sent a couple days ago, and be on his merry way afterwards.

Stepping out into the large corridor, Pharynx felt a bit more tense watching some maids spy him from their cleaning duties. They'd side-eye him, wave to him, and go back to cleaning. It was weird to him. No one ever simply waved to him and went back to whatever it was they were doing. He was the boogeybug. Foals looked underneath their beds for him at night.

It sort of hurt when he discovered this about his changed subjects, but the hurt was quickly replaced with conviction. No matter, they'd still be defended. Whether it be hating him or loving him, he didn't care. A job was a job.

Monologuing again, are we?

It's all I have. Always thinking of an escape, a defensive plan, a logistics output... I live for the Hive.

So much that you debate yourself on everything?

No one bothers to debate me smartly. It's a by-product of being unmatched.

Narcissistic, too.

Proudly.

Moving on, he traversed through the corridors. Turn here, walk there, enter this door and out of this garden section. Ponies passed by and didn't offer him a glance, rather parting out of their spacious way for him. That was an attitude Pharynx was familiar with, and one that didn't sting or confuse him anymore.

Tied with an uncomfortable looking mix of vines, leaves, and twine wrapped around his neck stood Trachea at the small landing pad. His talons scraped against the white marble, and his tail gave a few meticulously designed bushes to look like Blueblood a great whiplashing into crumpled brushes of leaves.

The unorthodox hitching method seemed to be uncomfortable for the grisly manticore, who occasionally fought at it to give him some leniency. A leniency his new owner didn't seem to care for. Ripping the improvised lasso off Trachea, Pharynx dropped it to the floor as he flapped his wings until they hummed. Once enough power was established, he lazily buzzed up to the beast's back, sitting down on it with a grunt.

"Milord! Milord! Miiilooord! Lord Pharynx! Lord Pharynx! Leaving so soon?"

Pharynx looked back to the archway that he came from, looking towards the stallion officer who had given him the briefing. Huh. Found him fast. Impressive.

Pharynx stared the stallion down, answering: "Yes."

Blinking, the officer coughed and cleared his throat. His speaking that came afterwards was a travesty. The officer bumbled with his words, stuttering and stumbling over a simple sentence before calming himself down. "We-Well, uhh.. I have your uhh.. necessities here, sir." He jangled the saddlebags on his withers for emphasis.

"Not required. I can handle myself."

"N-No! I.. Gifts from the Princesses!" The officer skittered up next to the mounted Trachea, keeping well away from the venomous growl his maw gave. "Please, they insist," he said.

"They can insist on someone else," Was all Pharynx said before his majestic, scarred beast took to the sky with a jump right over the startled officer. The shadow of the manticore passed over his entire body in a flash, sending him onto his back with a squeal like a foal's.

He spazzed out on the floor trying to get up, yelling. "MILORD! LORD PHARYNX! PLEASE COME BACK!" He got up, fumbling over the saddlebags that had spilled its contents on the floor. Letters, scrolls, and some vials that spilled out a pinkish liquid onto the marble, fuming with a purple smoke that dissipated into the air.

Once the officer had recovered all that he could, he looked back up to the sky to see no sign of the Prince nor his recently acquired mount.

"...Oh dear."

Author's Note

Me and the Gentlemen when we forgot we had an account here, and like, a story with a plan or something.

Back to square one because we cleaned storage.

Take this chapter I totally did work on and did not leave here to collect dust. Totally. 🍊

Are-We-Gonna-Get-On-With-The-Story-Bug

"Milord, a pleasure to see you always!"

"Stuff it and tell me the sitrep."

Buzzing of wings. Wind nipping at the ears. Bright lights behind closed lids. Yes, Pharynx realized, he was in Cloudsdale. Surrounded by his patrol. Time to open his eyes, he guessed.

Not surrounded. Just him and the point ling.

A cyan-colored changeling flapped his wings as Pharynx's newly acquired war beast slowed its flapping to a casual speed. Nodding towards his superior, the patrol-ling matched speed and began pacing his legs into the air as if he was walking on ground. "Nothing unusual. Per usual. The usuality of usuals, sire. Perhaps it'd be uncanny to be unusual, but nonetheless this area remains the same as it always has been. Usual. Business as usual. The regality of uncompromised normalcy, your lordship. Maybe-"

"Shut up."

"Yes, sire."

Pharynx looked off towards the floating city, curling his lip in disgust. "What of Diaphragm?"

The cyan changeling's brow perked. "Diaphragm? She's being an overseer to the op you had us assigned to, sire. Nothing out of the usual there. Solidly the same. Mutually exclusive to the metronomes of monotony, your Royal Highness. A teeter maybe to the sights of broken rhythm, but typically the rhythm remains upbeat and the exact same as always as it will be and forever to the end of times, your Excellenc-"

"Runoff, shut up."

Runoff flinched just a tiny bit. "Yes, milord."

The Cloudsdale patrol squadron he had assigned routinely was still doing their usua- Chrysalis be damned, Runoff is rubbing off on hi- He's doing it AGAIN!

Shaking his head with his newly acquired bad mood, Pharynx tugged Trachea towards the small tower located on the northeastern corner of Cloudsdale. It was a small cobblestone spire, fit with windows and an oak door at the cloudy floor. It was barely stretching to anything impressive in height, but it carried the absurdly colorful flags of Thorax's king- Hive. The Hive. The flags were posted in wooden posts jammed into the spire's structure. Defensibly negligible.

"Roam around. Don't cause trouble," Pharynx grumbled to his mount as he hopped off and buzzed his wings lazily towards the spire. What was with it and the veteran squadrons lacking any brain cells after their transformation? If he wasn't a staunch believer of the old ways, he'd bargain the loss of intelligence with "upgrading" wasn't even worth the trouble. They recited the Defense Codex and Imperial Garrison Codex in their hatchling schools down to fanatical memorization, and now they couldn't even remember the first sentence it seemed.

In what world did the Defense Codex say 'putting a teddy bear next to the door is a good dissuasion to the true strength your squadron has' and when was it implemented?!

Landing, he suppressed a groan when he heard laughing inside. Kicking the teddy bear off the cloud, he magicked the door open and stepped inside. Laughter stopped. Bodies scrambled. A yelp was heard, but died immediately when the yelper in question scrambled with a hobbled leg to stand at attention.

"Milord!" The group of seven rang out simultaneously, with their variated carapace colors.

"Cell Five. At ease."

The filed seven relaxed their postures.

Silence.

An uncomfortable silence.

They stared.

He stared back, but in a more intimidating manner.

Pharynx regarded them like a venomous snake ready to strike, but in a different way. More like, the venomous snake was a toothless puppy and it wanted him to pet it. It wasn't something he was entirely enthusiastic about, but he supposed his units were due for some festivities when nothing has been going on for the last year. Doesn't mean he had to walk in on them enjoying themselves. That, is something they'll have to learn for a third time to not do.

"Your motion-activated traps did not go off, Cell Leader Tibula. In fact, I didn't hear even a vibration call for alarm of an unidentified presence," Pharynx stalked closer and closer to the indigo 'ling in question. "I don't wanna to make the judgment that you are disregardin' security protocol, but it seems that you're makin' the call that this outpost does not need the security protocol. Don't that sound like negligence?"

As he spoke, the other six seemed to forego their formation to back away from the oncoming Pharynx, leaving their superior Tibula, whose neck couldn't go backwards any farther, out to dry. Tibula winced as he slowly raised a hoof in a disarming gesture to his Prince. "Milord.. don't you think it's.. uncalled for to do all of that?"

"Explain." Pharynx's tone left no room for Runoff-esque shenanigans.

"War is practically extinct, sire. We are stationed in Equestria, which has lacked a conflict with other nations in.." Tibula gulped, ears pinning to his head as he realized his folly. But, he was a Cell Leader for a reason! He did not cave to the sudden pressure of a verbal miscue; rather, he was promoted here by Pharynx's own confidence in him! Steadying his back, he cleared his throat noisily, having just noticed the furrowed brow and very unpleased frown dig itself into Pharynx's muzzle.

"The country we are posted in has not seen conflict since The Queen, sire. Yet, I make the argument that the last present conflict nationally was more than a millennium ago, milord. Beyond our lifespan, by at least twenty generations. That's a lot of generations sire, and each generation is only getting more and more peaceful." Tibula exhaled, his ears still pinned.

Pharynx sneered, a single fang shining in the light of the room before he shook his head. Have they all lost themselves to this spectrum of color and cushion? Even his personally selected soldiers were worthless in the threat of an enemy. Breathing, he steadied himself for a debating tone more composed than his Equestrian embassy persona.

"More soft as well," Pharynx countered. "I don't see a point in softenin' our selves when we were bred to be the hammer of which the Queen commands- the King commands his drones to stand firm as the anvil. We are White Cells, Cell Leader Tibula. We aren't the Red Cells." The team seemed to perk up, their eyes uneasily looking at each other before locking back on Pharynx with a budding of confidence. Pharynx continued, "We are the hammer. We are not the defenseless anvil waitin' for its hammer to strike and relieve it. You are my finest." The group's backs straightened, their unsure gazes becoming solid with resolute faces and slowly-developing stoic looks. "White Cells seek and destroy the threat so the Red Cells may continue to supply and thrive, capisce? You don't have the privilege of being peace-lovin' like the Reds. You are my countermeasure to when the peace, and by extension the Reds fail. Understood?"

"Yes, sire!" They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder without fault, now. They looked like proper Changelings of the olden days. Yet, it did not impress the Prince. To him, it was to be the norm.

..But 'positive reinforcement' was a valuable tactic that Thorax helped him realize. "A little more authority to that and you might just be your old selves, yet. Clean the perimeter of the cutesy garbage and make this place look a little more official. That's a direct order."

"Yes, sire!"

"Clean the soda off your chin, Beetle. It's pathetic."

"Sire!" The 'ling in question practically slapped the soda foam off of their chin, staring forward all the while.

Pharynx nodded, overlooking the line of drones. "We are the hammer. Don't lose your weight in that strike when it is needed most."

"Sire!" Their necks arched forward, left forehoof stomping in unison- almost flashing Pharynx back to the times when he held a similarly sized Cell in his command, preparing for the invasion. A peaceful calm overcame him in that moment as he felt himself feel more at-home, an unconscious smile adorning himself to the changelings. They faltered in their stoic gazes, only when Pharynx turned around to look over to one of the tables holding a stack of parchment paper.

"Cell Leader Tibula, while your drones see to the armaments, show me the newest news of our neighborly- RUNOFF!"

Author's Note

TANGY 🍊

Delegationbug

Sometime ago...

"Why, it's a charm to see you once again Princess!" Thorax's bubbly voice laughed, his normally inquisitive and meek attitude giving way to a beautiful chime of mirth. Twilight giggled, ears anchoring to her head.

"Why, thank you Thorax. It's so nice to see you too. How are those libraries you told me you were creating? On.. Larvae Street, I believe you placed it?"

She didn't even see the smaller, darker brother that stood stalwart in Thorax's shadow like a viper ready to strike. It would insult him if she actually did see him, but Pharynx knew better than most. Twilight was analytical, a logical thinker, and above all aware. Awareness for the fine detail, the memory, the important things of academia and governance. Yet, she lacked any awareness for what is called 'socializing' however, and it was something Pharynx had stashed away in his mind during the Siege of Canterlot when he saw her save the day.

Eugh, don't remember the blast. Just remember where you're at now, boy.

A shimmer of green danced warily in his peripherals, and he suppressed a shudder. One must respect but try to not remember his Queen after she falls, especially one named Chrysalis. Freedom of her 'tutelage' was one that did more damage than relief for her former elites. Twilight did notice Pharynx's shudder as Thorax stepped more to the left to allow his older brother into the royal guests' bed chamber. Her eyes glazed over in a gentle tide of fear, glossing over Pharynx's body and sending the smallest bit of tingles down his spine. He suppressed the grimace of the bitter aftertaste flooding the back of his throat, his stoic but naturally intimidating gaze staring her down.

"Pharynx! It's... so nice to see you?" Twilight squeaked out. Pharynx glowered. Thorax bit his lip and leaned away from the sudden tension.

Fortunately, Pharynx's anger management lessons had actually done wonders for his diplomacy. "Good ta see you too, Princess." Could work on the tone, something a little more friendly, but Pharynx had managed to achieve something beyond an insult or threat. Thorax mentally cheered.

A swirl of joy broke some of the chains of the fear that danced around in Pharynx's tongue, dampening his bitter mood just a bit as both Thorax and Twilight immediately forced a transition into discussing something stupid. Libraries, education, schools of friendship. That sort of thing.

"I must ask, do you think a canary blend would do wonders for the library's decor? Oh, oh! Built-in staircases that go right through entire stair cases, allowing you to peruse level-by-level on the book shelfs? Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself!" Thorax blabbered on to the equally enthused Twilight. The emotions of passion and joy did take his mind out of the shadows of negativity, but too much of it was just overwhelming to the grouchy Prince.

Rolling his shoulders, he kept an eagle eye on a chattering Thorax as he stepped to the other side of the room, towards the open balcony.

No doors?

Pegasi landings, but still should have doors.

Complete vulnerability. To this day, this place is still easy to infiltrate and conquer.

Shelfing the thoughts, he looked over to the walls, looking at the portraits of random nobles and scenery neatly magicked to the wall. Freshly dusted. Maintenance has keys to all the rooms of the castle. Pharynx catalogued more and more discrepancies of strength and fortitude in his mind for sometime later. Another quick glance to his brother showed he was more than capable of engaging in academia talks with the Princess of Friendship.

He stepped outside of the room and into the long, winding chambers and hallways. Pockets of guards stood, patrolled or transferred region-to-region, with the bustling lines of maids and butlers alike rushing to their destinations. Looks of distrust, uncertainty and the slightest twinge of hatred. Another blackening taste that ashed his tongue.

All looked wary, except Her.

She stood with several guards down the hallway, and Pharynx could hear the discussions of guard detail concerning the new royal VIPs - Pharynx and Thorax - and her authoritative tone. Individual guards ran off with each order she gave. Her eyes flashed down the hall to other stationed and transitioning guards. The wiry muscles in her unique armament flexed and molded with the cloth. Uncontested authority. The decimated horn, the scars and all. This was that mare that lead that Storm whatever invasion. And won.

Here she stands, now leading guards in the place she had once conquered.

Pharynx snorted. Ponies.

A rustling of equipment. A clanking of metal. A sickening taste of fear that ran more roughly down his digestive tract than any crying foal having a nightmare's emotion could ever give. "Lord Phar- Pharynx, I a- am to be your ssss- sentry for the remainder of- of your sta-"

"Not necessary." Pharynx replied, his eyes finding themselves on a young guard.

"Or- Orders of the C- Captain, milord."

"Your Captain don't outrank me. You testin' me?" Pharynx's fins bristled, a fang sneaking out of his lips as he stared down this close-to-pissing-himself greenhorn.

"N-No! No, mil- milord! I- I- I would n- n- never test your auth- authorilll.. autho- authority!" The young buck could do nothing but stammer and sweat profusely, his eyes wide like saucers. Pharynx could see his form shaking, and the pleasant hum of the ambient castle seemed to still to a dead halt.

"Then take you and your hatchling courage to your Captain and tell 'em ta stuff it!" Pharynx growled, leaning so forward that the guard landed on his rump and leaned so far back he could feel his spine compressing in protest. Yet, without a beat, he managed to snap an Equestrian salute to his brow and scramble pathetically towards the direction of one Tempest Shadow.

Huh. This oughta be good.

Tempest's facial expression had never changed during the entire exchange. One slate face, staring down the oncoming rookie who seemed like he was running from a manticore juiced up on PEDs than anything.

"Ca- Captain! VIP-2 do- doesn't want a g- guard, ma'am!"

Tempest slowly looked up, her lidded gaze meeting the natural fury of the defiant Changeling Prince. Her head craned ever so slightly, and she spoke: "So it would seem."

From the tornado of fear that always danced in the back of his throat, her gaze and her emotional aura she subconsciously radiated out to him was one of.. neutrality. It tasted like water and flowed like it too, purging the bitter and mood-ruining terror and distrust out of his system. He could feel his chest become ever so lighter.

Haven't tasted 'nothing' in so long.. Nice.

His jaw closed itself into a frown, and she returned it.

Pharynx found himself approaching the Captain, a stinking look in his eyes. "You think I can't protect myself, pony?"

She continued to stare at him as if he was a passing commoner- something to be forgotten about a couple seconds later. "No. I think you are more than capable, Prince Pharynx. It is just customary to keep a guard on each VIP's being during their stay in the-"

"So you can spy on me? Know where I'm at? A Prince can't go nowhere without being harassed, is that what you're tellin' me, Captain?" His eyelids were twitching.

"Spy, no. Monitor, yes, milord," said Tempest.

"So you say, pony. You stick me with your worst to 'monitor' me?" Pharynx growled out.

"Yes, milord," Tempest said, finally showing facial change with a quick suckle of her cheek. "I suppose it was incorrect to assign a greenhorn to your stature, and I can rectify this issue at your request. However, I cannot allow you to roam our castle without a ward. Surely you would do the same?"

The same? Would he? Was he the one to do the same? It would look foolish to lie and say no, that he'd never place an entire squad of wards to monitor a single VIP. In fact, he wouldn't have them map out the VIP's every single move and file it in report with step-by-step recollection and even down to the food they ate during their stay to account for inventory. It would be asinine to assume he would have doubled the patrols and kept an additional eye himself on said VIPs during his weekly inspection of the royal guards of Thorax's kingdom.

...It would be unwise to admit it, as well. There was an entire new ballgame to play by admitting even a single customary detail of the changeling defense... But it was such a common thing to do, so what was the real harm in agreeing with a pony for once?

"..You are correct," he ground out with a sneer. Tempest nodded, looking over to a guard stationed against a wall a few steps away.

"Strong Hold, come here-"

Pharynx took a step towards her, smiling like a psychopath who found his newest victim alone at night. "No, pony. I don't want your run of the mill weaklings."

Tempest looked back over to the hostile Prince, an eyebrow raised.

Pharynx's smiled only got more vicious. "I want you to be my ward, pony. Show me what the best of the best looks like, huh? How 'bout it?"

An odd emotion flooded Pharynx's tongue, dancing along his mouth before eventually skydiving into his stomach. Annoyance. The uncommon, but tangy taste much like an orange that Pharynx always fancied himself to as a hatchling, bullying smaller, weaker changelings for their grub. A very.. boosting emotion, indeed. Tempest's annoyance, and her tightening face seemed to make the changeling Prince radiate with mirth, his predatory grin unraveling into a laugh like he stuffed somepony's face into their birthday cake while they didn't expect it.

"..Fine. I'll be your ward and escort around the royal castle, Prince Pharynx. I trust you won't do anything illegal." Tempest's tone was short, her eyes narrowing at the laughing Prince.

"If you can't stop me, how're you the best, pony?!"

Accidentbug

A continuation of sometime ago...

Orange. Orange, orange, orange, and more orange. It's almost bleeding into a reddish taste!

The vicious smile threatening to separate Pharynx's skull in half only continued to grow as he continued to intentionally stop and make this Tempest Shadow recite useless trivia and rag on and on about certain paintings, doors, artistic choices, even the three centimeter crack in one random tile on the floor.

This might be the most intoxicating taste of annoyance boiling into outright rage he'd ever concocted off of a pony. And it didn't even take a short time. Matter of fact, we're reaching record levels of rapid emotional build up.

Her eye was violently twitching as he leaned in ever so closer to her ear with that child's grin, eyes slitted while he held back his laughter with an actor's poise. "Say.. what's that window right there? What's all that shiny stuff on it? Why does it look like the Sparkler?"

Her neck flexed as taut as it could be, her jaw moving minutely as her teeth ground. "That is a mosaic of Princess Twilight Sparkle, NOT Sparkler, teaching the future generations of Equestria's youth about concepts of friendship. It is more of a symbolic mosaic of her passions and who she is as a pony, as well as her as a Princess."

"...Practiced long for that one, didn't'cha?" He was verbally waving that giant red flag for the bull of Tempest Shadow to huff and puff and charge at.

"Matter of fact, milord. Yes."

And the sails had lost some wind.

However still satisfied, Pharynx continued trotting along, basking in the wondrous tastes of her misery and suppressed rage that she directed at him. She seemed so much more in tune irregardless of Pharynx's chicanery. From what he could deduct, and obviously tell at even a skimming glance, the Royal Guard was infamously inept, and this Tempest saw to it to straighten it up as Twilight's acting steel hoof behind an agenda of friendship.

A treaty of heavy handed friendship dosages with a light smack following it up if you still didn't choose friendship. To Pharynx, it seemed as if Twilight had learned a thing or two about being the only on-demand defender against outward evils, and made to correct her predecessors' faults of installing proper leadership to guide a more effective defense.

It was possibly the only thing Pharynx could respect her for. Begrudgingly, naturally.

"Anything else you would like to see, milord?" Her tone was strained. He smacked his lips as the sweet sugary flavors furrowed down his tract and into his belly. A pleading, imaginary relief she was feeling. Anticipatory that Pharynx had nothing else to pester her with for at least one minute in this room. The orangey flavors of her annoyance still danced as an aftertaste.

"Yeah. Take me to th' room where this meeting is happenin'." He rolled a hoof as if to usher her along casually, internally smiling as a shot of fury spiced up his sugary meal so far. Robotically, she performed an about-face with perfect mechanics and grace. She marched to Pharynx's cadance, a stomping and authoritative stroll that bargained no interruptions or conversation unless he deemed it.

The hallways of this place were grandiose - the guards less than. A bunch of recruits as clear as day were trying their best to maintain parade rests and serviceable patrols, but were definitely under-qualified. A byproduct of Twilight Sparkle's new regime in progress.

He would laugh if he didn't have his own incompetence issues.

His jolly mood soured to a misery train of frustration and long-held grudges of quality assurance. He hadn't even heard her mention some random trivia she tried to pre-fire him asking to annoy her. A statue of some pony standing in between two young guards. Who cares?

His eyes narrowed and his frown turned to a tight-lipped line. Pharynx stopped abruptly, Tempest stopping as if she knew he was going to all along. A brow raised from her ever so slightly, a questioning gaze in her naturally slanted eyes. "Yes, milord?"

"Don't you just hate it?"

She blinked. Off balanced mentally at the bored, but bitter edge to his voice. He sidewards-glanced at her, his changeling gaze piercing into her with the silent fury of a thousand reprimand reports and at least three insubordination stacks of fifty a day. And being the only one to sort it.

"Pardon?"

He waved a lazy hoof around at the bumbling guards, civilians, and workers alike. Though his scanning hoof stopped at certain guards making fools of themselves. "That. What is that? Do they not know how to hold parade rest?"

She followed his waving hoof, swallowing a weary sigh. "Not yet, milord. They're not the most experienced of guardsponies and military personnel, but Twilight saw to it to create a guard detail that would only gain experience under her assignment. A personal guard."

Not as bright as I thought Pharynx monologued. "She saw it fit to create basically.. a conscript guard for her own whims?"

"In the simplest terms, yes."

Definitely not as bright as that spark that fizzled from your shattered horn recently. Pharynx inwardly grinned as he catalogued this information. "Can't be any better than mine, pfah! Couldn't identify even a friendly entering their sensssssooorrrs..." He trailed, his face going blank.

I'm an idiot, too.

"Ah, so the peace conversion hasn't been merciful to discipline, I assume?" Tempest said.

She's making fun of both you and the Hive. And you allowed it. Opened the door and ushered her in.

If she had any face that showed she was trying to coax information of his own military out, or at least the enjoyment of getting that out of him, she didn't show it. It was as if she never even considered it. As if she was at peace.

Given the fact that he had just surrendered crucial information concerning incompetencies of his own underlings, he wasn't sure she was playing the dumb peace card. Remain vigilant. Do not slip up again.

"It's being rectified. Nearly completed," he lied brazenly, dismissing her with a wave. He failed to notice her rolling her eyes.

While that happened, he stole a glance to a triplet of pegasi guards fluttering above, trying to keep a grip on some gaudy piece of brass that looked like an abhorrent amalgamation of shapes, a single letter, and what looked to be a cartoonishly large mallet.

Why they decided to fly this offense to modern art, it was to be determined. Why they decided to haphazardly fly right above their Marshall and her Prince ward, it was another GIANT red flag to be determined. What was already determined, though, was that it was going to drop in about five seconds on top of them because the lead of the triplets was a skinny stallion who was shaking like a leaf at the aspect of holding onto it for another nanosecond.

"BAIL DUDE!" He squeaked, rolling it off his hooves to the surprised cry of the other two holding it before screaming, "HEADACHE!"

And thus this devil of imagination was plummeting right towards them. Even the shadow was beginning to form larger and larger around them as Tempest just now caught sight of this soon-to-be celebration of destruction.

She couldn't do anything but yelp when a carapace body-slammed her out of the shadow.

"LORD PHARYNX!"

"MILORD!"

"YOUR EXCELLENCY!"

"MY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART!"

Did I just save this fleshbag?

Pharynx pondered this revelation as he effortlessly held the statue up with his magics. This brass piece, a meter or so from crushing him completely, floated without a crackle in stability from Pharynx's glowing horn. He wasn't focused on that, however, he was focused on the idea of saving a pony. Not just any, but the only semi-capable military mind he's ever come across that was equine in nature.

"Huh," he garbled to himself, stepping out of the shadow of the piece.

"Thank you!" The voice distantly said.

It was dropped, shattering the flooring and causing several pieces of the "art" to go flying without danger to anyone around it.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Agony filled his gullet, a bitter but relishing taste that he found himself chewing on just a little bit before swallowing. The rush of such a wave-like emotion had caused a single-fanged grin to grow on his face, stealing a glance over to the slightly disheveled Tempest Shadow.

She looked stunned.

He grinned at her shock adding a minty freshness to the tidal wave of agony of a terrible sculptor.

Yeah. This ain't too bad of a day after all.

"Shocked, Marshall? Thought I expected better from you."

Author's Note

Quick little drabble drabble I popped up to resurrect this story. Actual story progression on the way, I swear it this time! I do, I really do! There is a plan now, with actual plot points and milestones! I swear! However, I will be writing little things like this and the previous chapter to flow the story for funsies or just to have a random anthology type chapter! I swear!

Enjoy this tangy chapter!
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