Arc 2 – Lies Chapter 5 – Dream

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One would have a hard time finding an abandoned house in Hope; well, at least until a chunk of its population left, following the mysterious filly that knew more than even the champion of the immortal. Despite the harsh reality’s ceaseless efforts to cull the community, it stubbornly grew, both naturally and from the refugees found by Trixie and her team in the thought to be desolate lands.

However, one area always boasted deserted edifices even in this settlement where everyone craved for a place under a roof. Every so often new buildings sprung under the shadow of the narrow spire to inevitably turn cold and lonely. Only the most desperate and fearless dared to dwell in that callow district, skulking in its sombre tension and instantly fleeing when the opportunity arrived.

The tower, modest in its design, yet mockingly immaculate in comparison to the ragged Hope, leered at the changeling queen—an unassuming pegasus in physique. Just like its inhabitants, the smooth obelisk stood ostracised, the dirt around it barely marked by the prints of a hoof or paw.

The Citadel starkly reminded Clandestine Delight of the time when she’d just become Queen Heterocera. Those frantic weeks that had been spent learning the marvels she could never have imagined: magic, changelings’ lore and biology—woven into a complex paradox of existence which she now had to maintain as its axis.

It had been a while since Delight had last seen an equinoid, save for the Harbingers’ practically disrespectful and pointless presence on the city council; not that she didn’t forgo those mind-numbingly boring meetings herself. The other attendants tolerated such an audacity not just because the Machine Goddess’ sheer power let her abuse the rules, but because everyone was glad to be rid of the metal mother and her spawn.

And if Delight were being honest with herself, she would say that the rift caused by the Black Star incident waxed vast enough for her friend’s absence to become more comfortable than her presence. But she was the changeling queen—a creature of deception.

How would she be able to convince others of her lies if she couldn’t fool herself first?

The Citadel’s vestibule welcomed the changeling queen with opulent… dust.

The hub, created to serve as a platform to connect the mechanical denizens of Hope and their organic counterparts, rang with silence as only motes of grit soared lethargically through the sprawling vaulted chamber.

Spluttering their dying blinks, lamps struggled to light the path for the particles of sand and dirt that travelled from the empty benches to the overhanging balustrades; that curiously circled abandoned litter on the unswept floor; that floated above the paper-ridden desks and dark blind screens.

Delight joined that peaceful decay, solemnly regarding the dream that never came true—the last sounds that place knew belonged to fierce bickering and bitter discord.

The change in the equinoids’ attitude towards the organic life forms and the irreplaceable help in building the city failed to thaw the ice of ages-long enmity; when the dust of the journey settled and the time to share the fruits of labour came, too many creatures of flesh baulked.

Not long after that, the hub closed its doors, and one by one, metal equines disappeared from the streets until only singular equinoids remained in Hope—exceptions, very rare at that. When the Citadel’s doors opened again, the dark tower stood empty and mute as a tomb with its upper floors sealed.

Respectful to the city’s name, the pegasus-changeling waited for some sort of miracle; or at least a greeting. The dust continued to dance around her and she almost considered leaving that place to its melancholic pale tranquillity.

But Delight was a pony of Canterlot, who knew her cradle at its worst and thus had no trust in the charity of fate. So, after not too long, the sound of her steps thundered through the passages leading to the stairs. To the floors that no breathing creature had ever seen.

To no surprise, she found the thick doors closed fast and betraying nothing beyond. A dainty hoof rose, preparing to knock on the dark steel, but then dropped—what would be the point? Delight hadn’t talked with Machine in years and wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Except, the reclusive deity remained the last possible avenue for the changelings’ salvation, even if that promise was tenuous. But… perhaps, dusting off the old friendship only to discover it was no more wouldn’t be worth more disappointment.

After all—wasn’t that what hope was about?

The queen reluctantly shuffled back to the empty atrium and stopped frozen there—returning home promised no comfort; her children knew of the impending extinction as much as she did.

In her procrastination, she caught sight of a dark orifice in the floor yawning with blackness that weakly twinkled with blue phosphoresce. Guided equally by curiosity as by a desire to waste time, she approached the implicit entrance to the underground and hesitated.

Though Delight wouldn’t have been here if she hadn’t ventured under the earth once upon a time, she still harboured a certain reluctance towards subterranean spaces; another thought nagged at her mind—the equinoids hated the Tunnels more than anything, hence they built an edifice reaching for the sky.

The barely lit dungeon little differed from the rest of the Citadel in its forlorn taciturnity and the changeling wandered amidst the almost imperceptibly murmuring server racks that winked at each other amused by their chat in the electromagnetic language.

Making sure for the second time that the cellar had nothing to offer either, Delight began to bolster herself for her return to the Hive.

“I knew you would come,” the voice came from every direction at once.

Teleta’s training paid off as the queen locked her eyes on the tall shadow standing against the blinking machines mere moments later; nor did she fail to notice the only door out closing.

“I?” Delight called the darkness out, infusing her tone with sarcasm. “To whom do I have the honour of speaking? Machine, is that you?”

The familiar figure of a Harbinger emerged from her veil of shades, but it did nothing to banish either the tension from the queen’s muscles or the emerald fire crawling under her coat.

Her changeling sense tasted no emotions in the air, as it always was with the equinoids—she might as well be trying to understand the feelings of the servers surrounding them.

Ever emotionless, the serene living statue of an alicorn proclaimed, “The Machine Goddess hears all who speak to the children of the Unity.”

Delight stared into the shining eyes, but the light peered back at her, conveying only blindness. It had always bothered her how she could never tell the Machine Goddess from her firstborn. Sometimes she even wondered if Machine was still there… or ever had been.

She could only hope.

So, the changeling replied with a sigh, “That’s the best I can get, isn’t it?”

Machine (hopefully) silently regarded her; though, for the blink of an eye, Delight thought she caught the mask’s lips forming a playful smirk.

Casting a wary glance at the sealed door, the queen cautiously wondered aloud, “How did you know I’d come?”

The arcanium equine came closer, towering over the pegasus-guised changeling.

“I made calculations,” she answered with her trademark foreboding coldness.

Any hope for having a genuine conversation evaporated with that comment; practically a catchphrase.

“Of course.” Delight rolled her eyes. “What crime against morality do they suggest this time?”

“The end of the changelings.”

Painful effulgence flooded Delight’s vision and her world faded away.

A quaint little town basked in the soft sunlight.

Its homely buildings either rested against the low hills or stood perched upon them, dozing off as they overlooked the sea of grass rolling to the very horizon. Harmless clouds lazily sailed the vividly azure sky; closer to the ground, the mellow breeze gently pushed the blades of windmills.

The fragrance of blooming orchards, be it apple, cherry or pear trees, formed an orchestra of scents that promised plenty of sweet fruit in the foreseeable future. And if that wasn’t enough, the rainbow of flowers peppered the vast fields, heralding the bountiful harvest of berries, carrots and many other treats; the pollen-laden air buzzed with busy bees.

Amidst the lush flora, no less varied fauna shared the joy of the beautiful day. Birds sung their mellow serenades, small critters rustled in the shadows of verdancy and bigger animals napped, soaking in the golden bliss.

Ponies moved all around the village; unhurried, they seemed to be floating through the haze of a perpetually encroaching sunset. In the meadow on its outskirts, three young fillies rolled through the dandelions, locked up in a mock tussle. The disturbed seeds danced above the snow unicorn, fiery pegasus and sandy earth pony; they laughed as they poked each other’s unmarked flanks.

However, Delight effortlessly managed to shake the insidious embrace of the temptation that offered her a refuge from the ancient Hives’ dusty passages teeming with starving hearts.

“Where am I?” she demanded; though glancing around revealed to her the solitude of the elevation she’d ended upon.

Twinkling sparkles of white formed a ghost by her side—a unicorn’s silhouette of vague features tinged by a purple sheen. The spectral mare had neither mane nor tail; her body consisted of constantly changing tiny numbers, letters and runes.

The unicorn spoke in a voice Delight hadn’t heard in ten years.

“It’s something my children created… recreated. In a sense, you are inside the Unity, though with certain limitations; full integration is impossible and the attempt is likely to be… terminal.”

“I’m totally fine as is, thank you.” The queen—appearing in her true black chitin form—nervously chuckled. She fell silent and continued only after a considerable pause, carefully choosing her words, “Glad to see you again… Machine.”

The magic particles formed a smile, and though small, it pleaded guilty, promised improvement, shared nostalgic memories and bore sincere happiness. Delight couldn’t help but mirror it.

“If I didn’t know you better I would ask you to be less, eh, dramatic the next time,” she airily commented. However, the mirth sapped from her expression and voice when she added, “So… you know about my problem.”

“As much as you have your nose in every cluster of confidential data in this city, I also pay attention to the secrets churning in its bowels, especially when they concern my friends.”

The last few words erased the frown, deepened by the accusation, from the changeling’s face and she listened intently for the rest, said with tactful sombreness.

“I ran everything you and I have on the Swarm through my methods a few times in the hope that your accountants had made a mistake, but…”

Machine trailed off and Delight finished for her, “But they’re really good at their job.”

An uneasy silence settled betwixt the two friends.

“That is the only help I can offer, Del,” the unicorn softly uttered.

In a violent motion, the changeling queen stood up and practically pounced at the Machine Goddess, stopping herself from trying to grab the ethereal body at the last moment.

A single word left her throat constricted by maddening desperation, an agonised whisper.

“Please.”

As much as her incorporeal nature allowed that, the translucent mare looked thoughtful for a while, then finally answered, “The magic that governs the existence of your species is a secret to me. If I studied you and your children, I might have gotten an inkling of how to aid you.”

“Whatever you need.”

Machine shook her head.

“You don’t understand—that would kill you and hundreds of changelings; very probably for nothing.”

“They’re going to die either way,” the queen hissed, turning away.

“There are more ways for that to happen than you think.”

A confused frown sneaked into Delight’s scowl and she shot Machine a glance both curious and concerned.

A tablet materialised from thin air and floated to the dishevelled changeling.

“Take a look.”

A single glance revealed it showing a complex diagram; a dominant squiggly line crossing column after column and a cloud of numbers flocking the composition.

“Forgive me, Machine, but I’m not really in the right state to analyse something like this at the moment.”

That earned Del an intent look and a subtle encouraging smile.

Sighing heavily and ignoring the wordy file name, the queen did her best to study the graph that apparently showed the distribution of cutie marks throughout the last decade. Roughly every year the line shot up, but the general tendency spoke of a steady decline.

The first peak was marked with two words—Black Star.

Delight’s green eyes widened and she stared at Machine, colour draining from her face.

The unicorn chided her, though without a hint of malice, “You never stop spying and yet you haven’t paid as much attention to ponies as you should have.”

“I have been busy with more pressing matters,” Del grumbled in a retort.

“True.” Machine bowed her head in recognition of her mistake.

A bigger and simplified version of the graph started to draw itself in the air betwixt them.

Machine followed its changes with an explanation, “Over the last decade the age of cutie mark manifestation has been pushed later and later with the approximately annual emergence of anomalies.”

“Black Star…”

“Or Oracle,” the unicorn said with clear annoyance; though she continued much more calmly, even if somewhat worried, “Sometimes it’s a talent that despite its unprecedented potency can be hidden—only Eyeblink’s parents and I know about his limitless ability to teleport. For everyone else, Posey is just very good with animals. The others I have yet to locate.”

However, Delight barely paid attention to those names and as soon as her friend finished talking, asked, “And sometimes..?”

She already knew what she would hear, but refused to abandon hope.

“No calculations can predict what cutie mark will appear next, nor where and when,” Machine gravelly stated.

In a matching tone, Del whispered, “Each year—a lottery with a world-ending jackpot.”

The grim realisation was still sinking in when the glowing mare ominously added, “But that’s only one side of the problem.”

Once again Delight’s emerald moon-eyes gaze shot up to find the impassive muzzle of the magical apparition.

“What?”

“The cutie mark manifestation holdback is yet to become something known to the public, but some ponies—parents—have already started picking up on the tendency in their subconscious way. At the current exponential rate, it will soon progress into a crippling issue destabilising society on its own and with the panic it causes.” Machine ended the winding mini-lecture with a devoid of humour laugh. “If we survive the annual emergencies, of course.”

Delight’s mouth opened and closed like that of a fish as her mind galloped.

Such consequences made sense… Was that why the equinoids withdrew—to buy some time? Or to combine their minds in the Unity to—

Why was it happening? What wasn’t Machine telling her?

But the queen knew better than to pry the sovereign of equinoids for answers; even as her friend she would masterfully withhold crucial information—she wanted to believe, for her merit.

“What should we do?” Del asked instead, her voice shaking.

The reply came conventionally measured, “Portending the doom for all isn’t the only calculation I’ve made—”

Machine’s holographic ears flicked as they picked up something audible only for her and she abruptly stared the changeling right in her eyes with great intensity.

“You should go—you’re being looked for.”

Del whirled around, but none entered her sight.

“By who?”

The colours began to dim and Machine’s image dissolved. The final words that Delight heard came from no mouth as none was left—spoken straight into her mind.

“Trust your friends, Delight.”

A sharp gasp echoed through the empty chamber and Delight scrambled up, choking on the dust that protested the burst of activity.

The forlorn atrium vacantly regarded the changeling with silence and returned to its slumber. She stood, panting, not far from the stairs to the upper floors and whipped her head around, checking on her surroundings and shaking off the vestiges of daze.

No matter how hard she tried, the lucidity refused to come back—she couldn’t see her hoofsteps in the dust nor the dark square in the floor leading underground. Nothing hinted at her visit into the server room lying beneath.

Shaking her head one final time and seeing how it brought no change, the changeling queen hastily exited the Citadel, heeding to the waxing uneasiness rather than to the words from the vision.

It made no sense—why would Machine spend her time going on about the oncoming catastrophe only to say not a thing about how to solve it? It wasn’t how she operated.

Yet as her regal black alicorn form sneaked from the tower, pondering in its ominous silence, she couldn’t help but keep thinking about what Machine had told her and the question it created—even if that was but a dream.

Who could she call her friends?

Author's Note

If you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know.

Stay awesome.