EAW - Chronicles of Equus

It has been roughly 50 years since Queen Chrysalis rose to power in the Hives.

At that time, she was lucky to rise above other Changeling queens with her dominant hive.

And soon, through the right of conquest and with strategic alliances,

Chrysalis became the one true queen of the now united Changeling Queendom.

Yet her ambitions did not cease.

Although several political intrigues demanded her attention,

Such as the border conflicts with Olenia and rumors of dissent amongts drones,

Chrysalis plotted a daring coup to secure an endless supply of love from the Equestrians during a wedding,

Simultaneously declaring herself the master of all Equus if she succeeded.

And succeed she almost did.

With her shapeshifting, she managed to infiltrate Canterlot with the form of Princess Cadence.

The Royal Wedding was crashed, and a large swarm assaulted the city.

Ponies tried to defend the city, but it was an exercise in futility. Casualties mounted.

Everything was falling into place. She was so close to victory.

Yet she failed.

In a last-minute intervention from the Elements of Harmony,

In tandem with the overwhelming love from the engaged couple,

The Changelings were repelled, and the invasion was an absolute failure.

It was the first time in her reign that Chrysalis was decisively defeated.

Soon, voices whispered of her failure from within.

Now, nearly five years after her failed coup, those voices are becoming louder than ever.

Yet even still, her iron grip is still clutching the nation tighter than a taut cable.

Only her sheer willpower was keeping the hives together at that point.

As time passes, whispers disputing the queen’s legitimacy begin to surface.

If she wishes to move forward, she must secure her reign with an Iron Hoof first.

—

A leather-clad Trimmel is currently flying above the outskirts of Vesalipolis, his destination being the great glass and concrete tower in the center that stretched up above the city. It was still under construction, so only the base of the tower was formed thus far. There was no sense of urgency or worry for Trimmel, only contemplation. Questions rang out in his mind, but no answer came to be.

He had been visiting Vesalipolis on a diplomatic mission. Trimmel was, by all means, a level-headed and intelligent Changeling. Compared to his brethren, he was exceptionally more intuitive. But even so, he could not for the life of him figure out what it was exactly as to why he was here.

He had been called by the High Queen herself, in a confidential piece of writing that only he had the privilege of reading. The letter was hoof-delivered by a dedicated courier from the hives. Why the queen couldn’t use a telegram to call for Trimmel instead of relying on some courier was still lost on him.

He questioned it but he dared not disobey. If the queen was giving specific instructions, the last thing one should do in that predicament is to question her objectivity. It was a surefire way of being exiled or worse in her Queendom.

The tower zoomed closer as he flew towards it. He made his way to land at the base of the structure to the bottom. There laid the grand entrance that revealed the original hive spire inside, transmogrifying and ever changing throughout the exterior walls of the original spire. The interior walls remained the same as the exterior; Only the subtle difference of the walls being carved on the inside gave any hint of contrast.

Trotting inside through the main entrance, he was greeted with a large chasm, almost like an atrium. There were Queen’s Guards buzzing around the room, doing their patrols of the Tower Grounds. Two of them were standing near the entrance of this chasm and immediately made their way toward Trimmel weapons ready.

“Who are you?” One of them asked, more indignant than bored.

“An expected guest. I come with a letter from the Queen.” Trimmel answers honestly as he holds aloft the sealed letter he received, with the seal of the hive visible to see. The guards immediately acknowledged his legitimacy and offered a salute of a hoof, of which Trimmel returned the gesture.

“We shall escort you. The queen is currently in the throne room.” the other guard declares, to which Trimmel nods. In the minutes that followed, Trimmel followed behind the Changelings that knew this particular hive better than him as they weaved through the tight corridors ascending ever higher. Soon, they were greeted by a very large Chasm that stretched very high up into the ceiling, with dozens upon dozens of eggs scattered about. So many were they that Trimmel assumed that it took up a least a quarter of the square area of the floor at least.

Each of them harboring larvae. A new drone.

And surrounded by these eggs stood a spire that hosted a throne one could say looked otherworldly. Its material made up of a stronger and reinforced hive musk, carved expertly to resemble a seat to host any creature; a metaphor to their innate way of life.

But Chrysalis was not found.

“We are here.” one of the guards announces bluntly, before saluting to Trimmel one last time. As the latter returned the gesture, the guards left without another word. Trimmel turned and still found nobody.

Now he was confused. He began to trot forward, looking around the room cautiously. He was not daft and unaware of the current political turmoil that had bedraggled the hives and the leadership, thus he immediately sensed that he was either being tested or led into a trap. He approached the throne very slowly, darting his eyes around for anything out of the ordinary.

But still, nobody was there. Trimmel was entirely alone.

“And here you are.” a reverberating, almost sultry like voice instantaneously conflicted his assumptions.

Trimmel looked above him to see who called out. Chrysalis was hugging a very large looking cocoon attached to the ceiling, tending to whoever was inside. She was not donning any formal attire, and only her endoskeleton was shown. Trimmel was curious as to why she was up there, but more importantly—who was contained?

“My queen?” Trimmel innocently asked, hinting no more other than that he was confused.

Chrysalis took that with astute perception and immediately answered to him. “Just tending to one of my recently captured traitors among my council. I found him attempting to steal one of my eggs.”

Trimmel cringed. She sounded eerily nonchalant about the encounter. Almost like it was nothing.

“Shouldn’t someling come and pick him up for detainment?” He asked benignly.

“It has been many moons since I had cocooned a victim, Changeling or not. I was seeking Catharsis.”

Trimmel could somewhat understand that, relenting his questions.

“You are here.” She digressed, making full eye contact with him. Her glowing irises pierced through him.

“That I am.” He replied evenly.

“I assume you have followed my instructions to the letter?”

“Indeed, my queen.”

Chrysalis’s lips gave a subtle twitch as she floated down from the cocoon. Trimmel, however, did not take his eyes off the ceiling.

“May I ask?” he simply pointed up, voicing his request.

Chrysalis contemplated, double-taking the pod and Trimmel.

“Of what?”

“Who exactly?” Trimmel asked. He did not say any more than that. Short and sweet.

“Like I said, someone from my council.” Chrysalis dismissed. Trimmel knew it was futile to try any more than that.

Trimmel turned to see the Queen trotting onto a balcony. It overlooked much of the city, scaffolding for the placements of glass panes in her new tower still hugging the exterior below her. There were smaller hives dotted around the city limits, but many were buildings constructed that resemble a mimicked style of architecture from Olenians, Griffons, and Ponies alike to better suit the Changelings. It provided a little bit of a jarring view, but it was almost poetic. A race of Changelings adopting the architecture styles of their race and others.

Trimmel followed behind but not closely. He maintained a good distance from her as they both slowed to a halt.

“... Questions cloud my mind every single day,” Trimmel could hear Chrysalis murmur.

“Every time I look at my advisors, my generals, my scientists, my guards, my drones, my new larvae, I am plagued with indecision. Not a day goes by where I don’t have a premonition of others undermining my authority. It seems like those I think I can call worthy are nothing more than cowards.”

“Um.” Trimmel quietly hummed.

“I am living on borrowed time. Every day is drawing closer to a boiling point within our nation. I wish to yank the roots of treachery out of our garden… and yet, I cannot.”

The queen’s head hung low, and she was uncharacteristically silent.

“My Queen?”

“... Not with these loveless, INCOMPETENT, BACKSTABBING TRAITORS!”

The queen’s horn glowed violently, increasing tenfold with each scolding word before finally reaching a boiling point. A large, sickly green orb of magic was forming at her horn, resonating with vicious contempt. Trimmel backed away a couple of steps fearing for the worse. But as he was about to flinch back, the light began to wither. And soon there was calm once again.

A deafening, apprehensive silence encompassed the space between the two. Trimmel could hear Chrysalis taking a breath as she turned around. Her acrid stare pierced his soul.

Yet Trimmel did not react. He remained as still as a statue. He swallowed the excessive saliva he had that was tightening his jaw, ever so slowly to not show weakness.

“You are Loyal, Hivesmarschal.” Chrysalis began with a contemptuous grimace. “You are Competent. You are efficient. You are diligent to my demands to the letter in every task I have given you.

“You have proven your use to me again, and again. And even with your newfound promotion, you’ve sought not to abuse it.” Chrysalis began with a lighthearted commemoration, locking eye contact with him. Yet even still, he did not react. No movement of the face, no twitch of the muscles; no hint of fear.

"In Stalliongrad, you were proven to be adept in personal combat with your first trial by fire, and it was partially because of you that the infiltration was a large success."

Still no reply. It began to chip the queen’s nerve.

"You were critical with the infiltration operations in Canterlot years ago. If it weren't for the miserable subjects that had failed me—and for that incompetent fool Vaspier—you would have been hailed as a hero for your involvance."

Yet again, no response. Trimmel patiently waited for her to finish, sensing that he assumed what a test of some kind. Finally, his assumptions were confirmed.

“... Do you expect me to trust you more?”

Trimmel was motionless. He opened his mouth to answer, then ceased to contemplate. In his eyes, Chrysalis was expecting a definitive yes or no answer. Whether it would add fuel to the queen’s burning Ire or not caused polarizing voices to debate in his mind.

He knew better than to show weakness, however. He inhaled sharply after a brief pause.

“No.” he uttered, with great effort to sound even and objective.

Now the Queen was still. If Chrysalis was angry, she made a great effort to conceal it.

“I imagine that those who have a better opportunity to destroy your Crown Authority are the ones that are closest to you. In light of that, no; I don’t expect you to trust me.” Trimmel blinked, then gazed to the floor with his eyes. “At least not until I have proven myself truly worthy of it in your light.”

Chrysalis was silent for a long while. She scanned Trimmel head to hoof for what felt like years--in the span of a few seconds. Not a word was uttered between the two. Trimmel’s head hung low in reverence; no movement was made from either of them.

It was Chrysalis first that broke the stillness with a twist of her body. The Cerise Evening sky casted golden rays from the western horizon, illuminating a portion of the throne room beyond the arching walkway.

No exchange was made for a solid minute or so. Trimmel was understandably dazed by this sudden silence. Chrysalis then slowly trotted all the way towards the edge, basking in what little view she had. Upon slouching her hooves along the railing, she turned her head ever so slightly and peered back at him from the corner of her eye. Her expression was unreadable.

“I am under threat, Trimmel. From within more than from without. You are correct in assuming that I do not want someone I can trust. But right now, I need someone I can depend on.”

Trimmel was caught off guard. She had never used his birth name before in any conversation, this was extraordinary for him. She turned her whole body around, her back towards the balcony.

“I’d say there is a fine line between trusting someone and depending on someone, wouldn’t you agree?” her lips twitched to a subtle grin.

Trimmel felt a heaviness in his chest, but if he was feeling anxious he made no show of it. “I do, my queen.”

“You say that now, but five years from now? Would you be loyal then?”

“What of the future, my Queen?” Trimmel boldly asked. “You are our pathfinder in these trying times. If there is anyone who has a clear sight of the future, it is you.”

The Changeling knelt before his Queen immediately after his gracious words, fueling more of the Queen’s ego enough to see past her own contempt.

“And if you see me in the foreseeable future that me or those under my command are disloyal to you, please let me ease your worry by having me swear to you utmost loyalty; from me and my subordinates; here and everywhere; now and for all time, until our demise.”

Trimmel kept his head hung low for the longest time, not daring to move out of his stance. Chrysalis too remained still, Trimmel’s words clearing sending a shock to her.

She felt something surge within Trimmel’s magic, something faint… yet it was permanent. She didn’t know how long this energy within him was contained, but she knew it was there to stay. Some kind of… devotion, perhaps?

But something about it was… familiar. It had a scent… a taste. Upon realizing that it had both she figured it out. “There is love inside of you.” she idly remarked, no hint of anger or hostility; no wry ridicule of any kind.

Trimmel felt something jolt inside him, but he didn’t quite understand what.

“I can taste it almost; it’s radiant…”

Chrysalis scanned Trimmel top to bottom after her comment and felt satisfied. She trotted closer towards Trimmel, as non-threatening as a changeling queen physically can.

“But I can also sense that you have ulterior goals to fulfil. And I demand to know what exactly that is.”

Her tone bordering Goading and Coaxing, Chrysalis confronted Trimmel by standing merely a hoof’s length away. Trimmel was getting mixed signals from her. What he can make out from this conversation is a sort of test of some kind from the Queen. A test of loyalty, perhaps, but something told him it was more complicated than that.

What he knew for certain was that she was expecting an honest answer. And thus far, Trimmel had been able to oblige… But was Queen Chrysalis really looking for honesty, or just blind reassurance?

“I do have motives, your majesty, though I would debate whether or not they are ulterior.”

“Then enlighten me.” She sneered.

Trimmel looked down to the floor for a few seconds, before steeling himself with a deep inhale through his nostrils.

“I wish to help better suit the nation—your queendom—as a whole. However, you will be my Queen and only you. Be it through military or upper echelon management, I will be loyal and will serve my purpose to the end.

“I wish to aid you in your advancements of the Changeling Race, be it through the right of conquest or in diplomacy—however possible—and to help sustain our people for generations to come.

“I wish to live in an era where we are finally respected and not shunned by every other race in the world like we are just monsters when we are just as complex as they are. In an era where there is nobody left but us to be the masters of this continent.

“And I do believe, in full respect to your authority, that I am serving my purposes by serving you. As long as I am serving you, I am serving myself. And as long as I am serving myself, I am serving you.”

The queen was stunned, but she could not deny herself that she was also impressed by his savviness. Chrysalis was only a few meters away from him as both locked eye contact. Neither of them wavered or flinched.

“You’ve proven your fealty.” Chrysalis commemorated. “But I see potential for improvement.”

The Changeling Queen circled around Trimmel idly.

“In what exactly, my Queen?” he asked, still facing forward.

“Your military knowledge and strategic prowess have not gone unnoticed by high command, and myself. And with your recent promotion as Hivesmarschal, I am sure you wish to showcase your talents even further, do you not?”

“I am willing to serve whenever possible.”

Chrysalis gave a smirk, as she rounded back in front of him again. “If what you say about yourself is the truth then, how would you like to assist me even further?”

Trimmel bowed. “What is your bidding?” He asked with diligence.

Her horn flashed for a quick moment. Moments later, there was an overwhelming aura surrounding her. The green flames encompassed her for a few seconds, then faded. Chrysalis was revealed afterward to be fully dressed now, in her Snow-White military attire. Her jacket bore the crown emblem of the hive, and so did her cap. After the transformation, she proceeded to trot behind Trimmel; towards the throne.

“I make no effort in hiding my hatred for traitors, Kommandant. I abhor them.” she practically snarled at the word. “If they expect me to succeed, they must have faith in their queen. How can they expect me to move this greater hive forward if they are rivaling me from within?”

“You cannot, my queen.” Trimmel answered for her while slowly following behind.

“And why is that?”

“Because to kill the weeds, you must nip them by the roots before they sprout.”

Chrysalis could not help but smile deviously. “Precisely.”

The Queen proceeded to float gracefully towards the sickly throne, sitting in it regally on her haunches.

“The filthy Harmonists have infested our ranks and have reared their ugly heads in various Hives already. From what Vaspier informs of me, they plan on snuffing us out soon with their final rebellion. Because of this, I am launching Operation: Disharmonisierung.”

“It has already begun?” he asked with a hint of disbelief.

“All you need to know is that I will require your aid soon. The Thoraxian Terrorists will see their end within the coming months.” Chrysalis paused and gave a reverent smirk. “In other news, I have finalized your transfer of command as Hivesmarschal. When the time comes, you will have full authority to command in the Heeresgruppe .”

Whatever shock or bewilderment that could’ve been caused from that statement was not apparent on his visage. But he otherwise heeded her orders and replied with a solemn bow. “As you wish, my queen.”

“You will be relocated to Lyctidia in the west for your next assignment, along with your office. Should you be called into action, you will answer to me immediately. When duty calls, I will place you under command of the Heeresgruppe. The proper paperwork to fulfill these responsibilities will be waiting for you in your new office I have assigned to you in Lyctidia, as I previously mentioned. They should be filled out and mailed to Vesalipolis immediately upon arrival.”

Trimmel felt a jolt of electricity in his stomach at those words. The most advanced army the continent has to offer… right in his hooves. He was not expecting such developments to manifest so suddenly for him, let alone at his benefit.

“But… my previous belongings are still-”

“Your possessions are already being transferred by a detachment of my personal guards as we speak. They are moving them to the new location now. They should be organized for you as you arrive. If not, feel free to assist them.”

Trimmel’s mind was flooded with questions. But he knew better than to object a direct order from the Queen herself.

“Do you find this suitable?” She asked, seeking not confirmation but obedience.

Trimmel could only oblige. “Yes, my queen.”

“Then begone.”

Trimmel couldn’t think of a rational response. His mind was drawing a blank, something he was not acclimated to whatsoever. What he could do was nod and bow, before making his way out through the entrance he came from.

As trimmel descended down the tower, his mind swam. He left his office and home in Gardis with a lot of questions. He assumed many things could happen. His promotion was not that much of a surprise, but the fact that she was so quick to give him such a prominent position of power so soon after a lecture of trust and dependency was more than a little off-putting for him.

He knew what to do. But for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know how it would pan out. He had hoped answers would come swiftly from this meeting. Instead, he had more uncertainties plaguing his mind.

—

An Olenian-mimicked hotel in Vraks sits on a busy intersection outside, a single Changeling was making an effort to fake a limp on one of their hooves while trudging towards the selection of doors standing before him.

The Hotel hosted a rather unusual group of tenets. Discreetly renting a room for themselves, a group of 3 Changelings was huddling together in the two-bedded room around a small end table in between the beds. They were very important and powerful changelings, despite their naked and off-putting appearances.

These specific ‘lings were cell leaders, responsible for the materialistic efforts of supplying the Thoraxian uprising through any means—including raiding, laundering, kidnapping, smuggling, bribing, and plain murder. But as of late, their uprising has been going through hard times.

When the Changeling outside gave a secret knock, the 3 others inside nodded to one another and telekinetically unlocked the door. All four changelings were inside now, huddling together in a circle. They were secretly armed but made an effort to conceal their firearms inside the hotel room prior to the meeting just in case. They planned to meet a week later, but time was of the essence. And as such, they hastily rented a room to converse in private without any eavesdroppers.

“So is it true then?” the fourth visitor asked aloud, breaking the silence between them all.

“Yes, the Soryth cell has gone silent. We can only assume the worst from this, and move ahead.”

“How can we move ahead from that? Soryth’s lack of military was the only reason we were able to smuggle those weapons so efficiently. Why and how are they gone anyway?”

“I don’t know… but it’s not hard to see the bigger picture here; Chrysalis is cracking down on us. If we are to survive and go forth with the uprising, we must decide a plan of action here and now. Otherwise, we will not see the light of day again.”

“The Queen has eyes and ears everywhere. Every Changeling that isn’t part of our cause is potentially a spy or an agent of some kind. It seems like not a day has passed when the Queen hasn’t implemented some new agency or secret police to track us down.”

“We still have Ditrysium. Should the worst-case scenario come to be, we will make our exodus to Greneclyf there.”

“But what of the other hive cities? What of Lyctidia? Have we heard any word from them since the last incursion?”

“No, they are silent as well. They’re gone for good, from what we can gather—and we are not risking valuable agents’ lives to confirm something we already know.”

Apprehensive silence grasped on the occupants of the room. Only the sound of their breathing could be heard.

“We can still take down this Tyrant.” One of them broke first. “We just need a little luck, and-”

A deafening crash of the windows shattering the conversation to be had. In an instant, Changelings clad in military attire stormed the room with bayoneted rifles hanging on their torsos.

The four occupants sprung into action, reaching for their small weapons. One of them was gunned down by a rifle shot on the far bed by an infiltrator before he could even react. The other three violently lunged at the attackers, only to be fended off easily. Using magic and physical prowess, the rebels scuffled with the infiltrators in an exchange of blows, before being beaten back and disarmed by the attackers.

And just like that, the altercation was over. The three remaining occupants were shot without remorse quickly after being disarmed.

“Clear!” one of the infiltrators roared, aiming at the bathroom door that remained closed off the far side of the room.

Stacking on both sides, they breached the bathroom to find nobody inside.

“Room secured!”

“Alright, we’re done here. Bag the bodies and let’s go before we get visitors.”

For the rest of the afternoon, the infiltrators cleaned and erased any hint of a struggle in the room. The 4 changelings inside simply ceased to be. As if they never existed.

—

Driving upon a freshly paved path in the snow, a convoy of large transport trucks strode by in single file. Much of the snow around them muffled the sounds of their engines. The path was dimly lit. It was snowing, but visibility wasn't particularly bad.

A lone changeling scout was floating high above the forest canopy as he saw the series of lights through the treeline approaching closer and closer towards him, following the path perfectly as he had hoped would happen. At first sight of the convoy itself, he hightailed it down into the trees discreetly. Landing clumsily on his hooves, he stumbled back behind a tree. Another changeling hiding beneath the snow looked in anticipation.

“They’re coming.” the scout whispered. The Changeling to his side nodded, before twisting his body right side to give a series of gestures with his hooves. Although he couldn’t see them very well, he knew that a lot of Changelings had been given the signal; the convoy was approaching fast.

“The eggs have tumbled out of the nest now.” The scout whispered to himself, readying his rifle that had been slumped on his torso.

Aiming ahead between a gap of trees, the road was perfectly perpendicular to him—a tight turn twisting past him at a slanted angle provided a perfect opportunity for a crossfire. There, he waited.

He didn’t have to for long though, as his ears perked at the sounds of engines approaching fast. With a quick inhale he held his breath. A pair of headlights illuminated the darkness ahead of the treeline.

The trucks began to slow their acceleration with the series of tight turns that were in this portion of the path. As the lead truck came in front of the scout’s rifle through the gap of trees, he lowered his head ever so slowly towards the snow beneath him. The light from the truck glazed over his still body as it turned towards him; the same for nearly a hundred other Thoraxian rebels—lying in wait for the signal to ambush.

There were 8 trucks in total; the rear end of the convoy could be seen from the scout’s position as the third truck made its slow turn towards him. There, he lifted his head up and gripped the rifle tightly. With a slow exhale, he waited.

And waited.

And waited...

… Nothing happened.

As the fifth truck slowly made its turn, the scout turned his head to the left to see the rest of the convoy speeding off without hindrance. There were supposed to be explosive charges planted on the side of the road for manual detonation, a signal to start the ambush. But they never came.

Then a horrifying epiphany struck.

“Could this be a setup?” he whispered to himself.

“Yes.” a whispered voice behind him acknowledged.

Before fear could strike his heart, the scout found himself gagged and neutralized; a telekinetically gripped rag gagging the scout’s mouth while slitting his throat with a hoof-held knife. An infiltrator for the hives killed him in total silence. When the body fell limp, he watched silently as the last truck made its turn—all of them unharmed.

With a sigh, he turned behind him to see a dozen more infiltrators dragging bodies, some of them still making quick work of a few stragglers that are hiding about. One of them trotted up towards him.

“Took care of them sir. It went off without a hitch.”

“Excellent work, soldat.”

As they resumed their work, a few gunshots could be heard from the convoy as a few stragglers realized what was going on. But they were aware of the ambush, and its neutralization.

The hunters were now easy prey.

—

“You have to leave.”

“I can’t! I will not just leave my people behind to die!”

“If you die too, we will have all died for nothing.”

In a secluded meeting spot somewhere in a forest, two changelings have a critical debate with one another. One of them being a high ranking officer for the Changeling military, and the other was Thorax… the Harmonious Changeling himself. Together, the two shared a discussion that with the outcome teetering the edge of death itself.

“I’m already compromised. They knew about our operation in Key Lake and will eventually rat me out. If they broke that cell too, then it’s over.”

“Nothing is truly over! I can find a way, I-I can get the ponies to help us, or I can hide the north somewhere, something like that! But I am not leaving my fellow changelings behind!” Thorax stomped a hoof with his final answer.

“If you try to hide here, you will be found eventually. It is suicide. Look, I’ve seen what the VOPS can do okay? They are the best intelligence agency I have ever seen in any department. If Vaspier’s as good as they say—which he is—it is not a matter of fact; it is a matter of time. You have to leave.”

“Where would I go? I don’t recognize a single blade of grass in Equestria! I don’t know the land at all!”

“Yakistown, it has big walls followed by a gate with two giant golems. You can’t miss it, it's a big city. There are Changelings living there who have basic rights, at least. If you don’t wish to hide, then you can blend in there. Should save you from tarnishing your own reputation by allowing you to be you.”

Thorax wanted to argue, but he knew the signs. The VOPS had been cracking down on the harmonic movement like Apex Predators. Nowhere within the last month or so was safe, there were incursions everywhere in all the major hive cities. To attempt to stay any longer would be a suicide mission as he said.

“Look—they will think you are still here and at large if I continue operations near the borders. It should give you all the time you need to make a break for it. I’ll cause a big enough distraction for the queen to keep her eyes off you for a little while, but only for a little while.”

The officer was shrugging off a saddlebag that he had been carrying during their conversation and held it aloft with his magic. “Take this and go, as long as you live our hope lives on with you.”

“B-But…” Thorax stuttered, only to be silenced by a hoof to the snout.

“But nothing. We have failed, Thorax—it’s as simple as that. But it does not mean that we have lost. Just get out of here.” The bag was slung upon Thorax’s back with little effort. “There’s a map in the bag with the plotted route to Yakistown. The yaks will accept you if you state your true intentions, I know how they act; I infiltrated them just half a year ago, and they’re far more docile than the Queen says they are. Once you arrive at Yakistown, go south to the Crystal City, then to Equestria, and you will be home free.”

“And then what?”

“Then you live. You live so that the cause can live." A tired sigh escapes his throat. "Look, unless the queen is dethroned, we cannot make any changes here whatsoever. Therefore it falls onto you to carry on our legacy. Something to give our people hope for. The Queen will most likely hunt you down and fake your death should she fail. Therefore you must leave.”

Thorax was staring at the ground, lost in thought. It was adamantly clear that he did not want to do this, but there was no choice in the matter. It was do-or-die.

“Where will you go now?” Thorax finally spoke after a long silence.

“To Vraks. I will buy you time. I’m a dead bug anyway. If I were to go with you, we would both be dead.”

Though birds twittered away in the distance, insects chirped and buzzed among the trees, and a gentle breeze blew from the canopy, it was much too quiet. It was the silence that ate away at Thorax’s mind, as he was dithering to flee.

“Look, we knew at the time it could have very well gone down like this. We knew the risks and we took them. Now… now you have to run and not look back. So just go.”

The officer did not wait for a definitive answer. He turned away and began to gallop off as fast as he could through an uncharted path in the forest. Thorax could only stand there and watch as his accomplice ran away without another word.

A heavy sigh escaped his nostrils as tears pricked in his eyes. He would be leaving behind his home… his people. His way of life was now torn away from him, as he was now a fugitive on the run.

With his bag slumped on his back, he made his way southeast. He would stop to peer at the map later. Right now, he was trying to get away from the forest.

—

Vaspier Orn Kladisium was enjoying his quiet morning sorting through papers on his desk at the VOPS headquarters. The silence was not meant to last as he nearly jumped out of his seat upon the heavy doors to his office being swung open with fury—revealing a very irate Chrysalis in her uniform. With a manila folder in her magical grip, she slammed it down onto the desk with rage as its contents spilled out. Dozens of reports and black-and-white photos littered the tabletop. Vaspier flinched but otherwise remained stoic. He had not seen her this angry in a long while.

“He got away.” she hissed.

“My queen, I am working hard to locate him right now—”

“SILENCE!” barked the queen. “You failed Director. I have half a mind to have you shot as a thoraxian yourself before I realized you’re just that incompetent. I thought no one was supposed to be able to escape your watch?”

Vaspier could do nothing but hang his head in defeat. “Forgive my failure.” he refused to justify his shortcomings lest he wished to be deemed yet another traitor. “We were mounting an operation to capture Thorax, but it appears someling in the VOPS tipped him off; he has allies inside the organization as well, it would seem. I am in the middle of reviewing my agents now to ensure this never happens again.”

“There shouldn’t BE any Thoraxian spies in MY Spy Agency in the first place!” she yelled back. “That doesn’t give me any hope that you know what you are doing.”

Chrysalis plants her forehooves on the desk, leering toward Vaspier in a threatening gesture.

"I want this done right, Vaspier. Listen. Very. Carefully.

Vaspier nodded wordlessly as the queen paused for a breath. “He will flee to a harmonic nation, so send out spies that we have into Equestria, the Crystal Empire, and Yakyakistan. Disregard any political fallout; they will not go to war over apprehending an internal traitor anyway. I want them all to find any leads regarding Thorax, and where he might be going.”

Vaspier was afraid to ask, but he mustered the courage to speak. “... All of them, my Queen?”

“ALL OF THEM!” she roared. “I want him found NOW!”

Vaspier humbly bowed his head. “Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll give the order.”

Satisfied, Chrysalis turned to leave. She glanced over her shoulder, and a hint of a vicious smile crept onto her snout. “One more thing, Vaspier.”

He looked up cautiously.

“I want him alive.”

“... As you say, your majesty.”

—

A swift hoof strikes a face with violent fury, followed by the victim groaning in misery. Underneath a strong floodlight, one very unfortunate Changeling rebel found himself being interrogated.

“Jogging your memory yet?” Quipped the Interrogator. Several more punches to the body and face were made. The victim was restrained in the chair, his hooves stretched backward uncomfortably behind the metal chair he was seated in. The victim could do nothing but endure and talk. And it would not cease anytime soon.

“Let’s go back in time. Soryth, Early March; Your accomplices were caught red-hoofed attempting to smuggle shipments of a few hundred kilograms of Steel originating from Key Lake. Your accomplices failed, were killed and captured, and one of them pointed the hoof to you. You called the shots but were only in command of a small detachment and nothing more. We know you were ordered to conduct these raids by Thorax shortly before he fled. Who ordered you and where did he go?”

The victim spat green blood in the interrogator’s features, eliciting a series of jabs to his abdomen that knocked the wind out of his lungs. He struggled to breathe for a solid ten seconds, before gasping loudly for oxygen. Everywhere he felt was a fiery tendril of pain licking his body. A few teeth were missing, his nose bleeding profusely, and one eye was black and shut.

“I have all week, I can do whatever the fuck I want to you. Nobody is going to save you. I can make your life a living nightmare, or we could just call it a day and you could give us what we want.”

“I’m a dead bug anyway.” The victim snarled back. No violent reaction this time, only a glare. “I can only tell you what I know is for certain. Not everyone tells us the truth. I can only know so much.”

“Feigning ignorance will not help you.” The interrogator barked back, before landing another hard hook to the cheek. More blood spat out.

“Then kill me.”

“Believe me, I’ve been pondering on that for days now. But my employers are seeking tangible answers, and they want them now. And I have officially run out of patience.”

The interrogating Changeling circled his victim, like a predator toying with his meal before kicking the chair down onto the floor. A hard thud followed by a loud groan echoed in the small chamber.

He walked behind the fallen victim, his horn glowing. The victim could not see, but only felt a slight tug on his wings. Then a forceful pull. The force was unrelenting and soon became agonizing. Groaning transitioned into screaming, until a sickly series of rips was heard--wet and squelchy.

“AGRAGAAAAH” The victim could only scream incoherently in agony.

“Tell me. Where the fuck. Did he go!” The interrogator ripped off several more wings with each sentence he uttered. More screams filled the room.

“FUCK FUCK FUCKING FUUUCK!”

“TELL ME!”

“STOP, PLEASE!”

“TELL ME!”

As it was reaching a boiling point, the torture session was abruptly halted by a series of loud knocks upon the metal door leading outside. The changeling’s horn ceased to glow upon hearing it as he gazed at the door handle turning and the frame swinging open. A Jäger Drone was peering through the doorway, grimacing at the scene before him with the tattered wings and blood.

“What?” The interrogator belligerently asked. The Jäger simply motioned him to come outside, earning a frustrated sigh from the former. The victim was left on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

The door shut close, leaving the victim to himself. The other two stood outside and conversed beyond the closed door.

“We have a new one for you if you’re done with him.”

This causes the interrogator to raise an eyebrow. “Making progress already?”

“Didn’t you hear at all earlier today? The Lyctidia Cell is fully eradicated now. Ditrysium is all that’s left, plus whatever we can get from him. In other news, Thorax is rumored to be in Equestria by now.”

“So… he’s redundant now?” He pointed an idle hoof at the door.

“Not necessarily. He’s served his purpose, but we could get more out of him. Toy with him a little longer, then dispose of him. The Queen doesn’t care as long as she gets results on Thorax.” He shook his head. “Anyway… when you’re done with him, rendezvous in facility 11 for your next victim. Vaspier’s orders.”

With that, the Jäger turned to leave. The interrogator didn’t bother to reply, simply staring down at the floor thinking for a long while. His eyes wandered back to the door.

“... ‘doesn’t care', huh?”

He scoffed and turned back inside the room. Another terrorist snuffed out.

—

Half-buried in the deep snow of Northern Equestria, a Changeling infiltrator clad in Arctic Gear is lying prone beneath a withered tree. The frozen pastures seemed to stretch to nigh infinite, with the only obstruction on the horizon being a small farm town standing peacefully among the plains. This was the third hour in a row he had been lying here, and his limbs were shaking violently at this point. Hour after hour, peek after peek; Binoculars in grip, the Infiltrator was tasked to recon the town to find a lead on Thorax.

The Town’s name was Hope Hollow, a quaint little village just beyond the Dragon Mountains’ mighty face. There were questionable sightings of the Harmonic Changeling spotted traveling south through this way but the recon was having none of it. Going through the motions at this point, he kept glancing at his pocket watch for the end of his shift. To his dismay, it had ended a minute ago, and he had been free to move for some time now.

With a disgruntled sigh, he slowly crawled backward. Icy daggers of cold penetrated his clothing with each subtle motion that was made. When the village was out of sight, he stood up and shook the snow off of him. The walk back to the rally point would be arduous.

For about a week now, the trail for Thorax had gone cold once he traveled to Equestria. A steady stream of misinformation was slowing down the effort to find Thorax tremendously, ranging from contradictory to just outright false claims. There were reports that Thorax had been hiding in Canterlot, Las Pegasus, Baltimare, Hjortland, Stalliongrad, and even Vesalipolis as well. Hysterical as these claims were, they were extremely effective at paralyzing the mission to find him.

Now, it seemed likely that Thorax would remain out of Chrysalis’s reach for a considerable amount of time. And the longer the Changelings stayed in Equestria, the more they were at risk of creating political outrage amongst the Diarchy—especially after the failed snatch-n-grab operation in the Crystal City.

After about an hour of slow and cold walking—relying on a few sips of some bottled love reservoir—the Infiltrator could see a small smokestack billowing upward. The camp was close ahead, sitting beneath a small patch of forest in the middle of nowhere; the perfect hideout.

Flying the rest of the distance to save time, the Changelings around the camp saw the recon flying towards them. Some waved, others simply went about with their business. One of them—an officer—was trotting towards the recon as he landed. They gave each other a salute.

“Sir, no sightings of any pony or changeling.”

The officer sighed.

“I thought so.” he replied with a chin scratch. “Vaspier and Chrysalis aren't going to be pleased either way if we choose to delay or if we call it off now. And I doubt we will find him at this point.”

The officer found himself staring freely in the distance, to nothing in particular other than the endless horizon. His team was assigned to this town with no hopes of reassignment. If he were to move out, there would be severe consequences.

“Permission to speak freely sir?” the recon asked carefully, standing tall and resolute.

“Granted.” the officer cocked an eye.

“I would find it very much preferable to be in familiar territory rather than staying here.” the recon looked away, to no direction in particular. “The terrain is way too foreign for me. The hills are soft and bumpy, winter is colder here somehow, and I can’t believe I’m saying this but I actually miss the forests back home. At least it beats… all this.”

He raised a hoof, gesturing to the vast amounts of emptiness that accompanied many of the Equestrian plains. A certain sense of total Isolation could be felt here if one were to bask and linger in the silence.

“It's not my decision to make either way,” the officer juxtaposed with a sigh. “If it were, we would be long gone by now believe me. But it will take a few weeks more before the Queen herself is convinced.”

“So… what now?”

“For now, we lay low and don’t get caught. We don’t need to get sloppy because Thorax isn’t giving us anything. And to be honest, I don’t think he’s gonna rear his ugly head anytime soon.”

“So we’re just… idling?”

A weary and long sigh escaped the officer’s lips.

“I’m personally following my orders. ‘Observe for any abnormal behaviors amongst the towns, and search for more leads.’ And sending you out there for three hours is doing just that. And we’re going to keep doing that until the queen finally realizes just how much of an exercise in futility this whole debacle really is.”

The recon eyed the snowy ground lost in thought. He couldn’t care either way whether Thorax was captured or not. He just wanted to get as far away from pony civilization as physically possible.

A hoof suddenly was planted onto the recon’s right whither. The officer smiled empathetically.

“Try not to kill any ponies out of boredom for me?”

The recon couldn’t help but chuckle dryly at that, despite terrible humor. “I’ll do my best.”

—

She could hear them outside. The sound of cheering. It was midday, and everyling had been gathered around from all across the Changeling Lands. The City of Vesalipolis had never seen such a crowd in all of its history.

And yet she couldn’t bother. The noise outside was blocked out as the two stared firmly locked eye contact with one another, neither of them wavering. A contentious frown formed on Chrysalis, sneering back towards her potential enemy.

Queen Chrysalis was standing face-to-face with Queen Chrysalis.

Clad in her snow-white Military Uniform, the Queen inspected herself bitterly; a full-length mirror in her personal chambers hosted her reflection. She inspected herself for any hint of weakness or hesitation and was bitterly disappointed with herself. It wasn’t necessarily a closely guarded secret that the glut of the queen's ego was her weakness.

But this was a first, even for the Queen of Changelings. She stood tall in front of her reflection, scolding her relentlessly. Within every hint of her body language, she could sense weakness and hesitation. And she loathed her, almost as much as the pathetic Ponies in Equestria. Almost.

How could you be so weak up until now?—She internally bickered with herself.

Of all the hardships you have been through, you do not deserve to be feeling the way you are!

Her heart felt like it was about to explode, her breathing rising in tandem. She twisted away from the mirror in disgust but found herself now seething with anger.

And with a swift movement, a black insectoid hoof struck the mirror with brutal efficiency. Shards and shivs of glass discombobulated away. She bellowed a shrill scream as she did so.

The deafening sound of the mirror being eviscerated echoed mightily across the room. Almost as loud as the cheering outside. The queen hung her head low, her hoof never moving from the mirror.

Drip Drip Drip.

Green liquid seeped out of the hoof that struck the mirror. Looking towards the ground, she saw the sight of her blood. And immediately felt the pain of her mistake as she did so.

Wincing intensely, clutching her hoof, and on the verge of tears from pain; the Queen of Changelings quickly performed a spell to mend the open wound in the bottom of her hoof. And fortunately for her, it healed perfectly. When the pain subsided, she finally took a moment to breathe deeply.

Her heart slowed just ever so slightly from the ordeal, and she felt herself calm down. Gazing towards the mirror, there was nothing left of value. All the glass was either stuck to the frame cracked and dislocated or shattered into tiny shards all over the floor.

In a strange way… she felt better after that. It was as if she had literally destroyed a personal demon of hers; self-doubt, perhaps? But what was she doubting?

She had no reason to doubt the might of the Changeling nation now. Their militaries were at full readiness and ready to strike; their industry at full capacity; their soldiers loyal and capable; their vehicles and weapons finer; their aircraft faster and more nimble.

She stood up and trotted towards the window feeling much better about herself. She allowed a smile to stretch across her face. Outside, tens of thousands of Changelings cheered for their beloved queen.

The smile morphed into a sinister grin.

This day is going to be perfect.