This is actually fairly unlike me to roam outside in Ponyville at night. I will, however, admit to myself that I used to do it more in my youth. Maybe not the wander Ponyville alone part but certainly the stay up late at night, for I, like most foals my age, am a little bundle of energy.

However, as I got older, I started to understand the appeal most adults have for longing for their beds by the end of the day. My joy in my career choice notwithstanding, I must admit that I do feel more wiped out when all is said and done.

Ponyville itself, like most small towns in Equestria, is relatively peaceful, even at night. It isn't common for citizens of a town to go outside like this and wonder to themselves, “Will I be attacked tonight?”

Maybe the town's folk should be saying it to themselves more. Ponyville has been the target of assault by hostile forces multiple times. In fact, it's happened so frequently that the citizens are almost bored or nonchalant about it sometimes. The credit for that attitude was most likely due to the town's resident superheroines. That's gotten so routine that sometimes the citizens actually took bets how their newest conflict would get resolved by the Elements of Harmony except, lately, both Ponyville and even Equestria at large are beginning to focus their eye on a new generation of champions.

I have some personal investment in this affair since I happen to be related to one of those legendary heroes. The rest of the Crusaders definitely can relate to me when it comes to looking up at our big sisters with pride even though Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash technically are not related. That said, they do behave with each other as if they are sisters. Even going so far as teaming up together at the Sisterhoof Social.

Despite all of that, something feels different about the town tonight. The largest reason that I can put my hoof on is the fact that I look different. I left my sister's shop wearing a dark cloak with a hood specifically to hide my identity since I knew there is a strong chance I might startle other ponies if they beheld me in full view. As a result, I grow fearful of discovery and that, in turn, puts me on edge as I trot through the town. Ponyville is my home that's filled with very happy and generally friendly ponies. I shouldn't be feeling this way in my hometown at all.

But the second reason I am feeling uncomfortable in this town is, at first, more elusive. Roaming about the town in the dark started to remind me of the nightmares I've been suffering from for almost a year.

Usually I soon forget those dreams shortly after waking. That attitude is compounded by the sense that I used to think they were just dreams so I acted like they did not matter.

However, after my more recent encounter with the entity within me, I can't help but look upon this dark but otherwise innocent town with a sense of paranoia. After all, what if I'm not the only one who’s been replaced? If what the entity within me says is true, the true mastermind behind this whole plot is still at large and can take over anypony whose been replaced except for me because he no longer has access to my original body. Even if he did, he can't use it to take me over ever since Button Mash came into the picture, or so the entity within me claims.

I can't dismiss the possibility that the whole thing is a lie designed to drive a wedge of distrust between me and the rest of Equestria. This might be a new system intended to control me and my perception of reality.

But one thing I do know is he's frighteningly intelligent. Certainly much more so than me and I'm no dummy, especially for my age. I can think deeply about stuff sometimes but this guy is on a whole different level. I've seen what an evil genius looks like before and what kind of damage they can wreak in Equestria. It is definitely something that unsettles me. I've also known heroes on par with that kind of intelligence, but since I'm not one of them, that, in turn, limits my confidence.

I freeze, greatly startled, when I hear somepony actually whistle the exact same innocent tune that often plagues my nightmares. I turn my ears in that direction as I listen to it carefully. Sure enough, somepony is whistling that tune and that already is starting to make me question my reality.

Is this another dream? Is it about to transform into a nightmare? Does that mean I dreamed of my encounter with my sister too?

There are several factors in place that are consistent with my nightmares. I'm wandering about in the dark and then I hear that haunting whistle. The only factor out of place is I see a few other ponies trotting about. I'm not totally alone which is a common theme in my nightmares before I awaken from them.

After listening to the whistle for a moment, I finally distinguish another important difference between this sound and my own dreams. For once, the tune actually sounds a bit higher pitch like maybe it's coming from a mare this time.

It could also just be a coincidence. After all, this evil changeling might not be the only one in the world whose accustomed to whistling this tune.

But, just in case this is a true threat and I'm not asleep, I decide to be cautious by trotting on. I also quicken my pace.

Just like my nightmares, the whistle fades in the distance as I trot on. It doesn't sound like the singer is following me. Or if she is, she's not doing it very fast.

But then I pause, startled again, when I hear that same whistling tune pick up ahead of me. It even resumed exactly where the other song left off. The other whistle behind me also got cut off only to resume ahead of me as if my pursuer teleported. The one thing that seems different, in this case, is the tone of the whistle ahead of me. It's deeper like it might be a stallion this time.

Well . . . I am dealing with a threat who is a changeling, or so he claims, at least. It's very likely true, too, given the form I currently wear myself. If this is another clone of the same changeling and he's assuming control of him or her at this very moment then his form and gender is a moot point. He can disguise himself as anything. The only question is, is he teleporting or simply switching his control between one pony to the next?

Or is this a nightmare after all?

Just like my nightmares, I am assaulted by this keen sense of vulnerability. There's something out there that might want to hurt me and he's very capable of doing so. Not only does he look and act scary but he is, if anything, more dangerous than he looks. This is the kind of changeling that nearly killed Princess Twilight and disabled one of her enchantments with ease. This is a monster that can instantly assume even the supernatural abilities of any creature he wants. If he can do all that, what chance do I have?

Just like my nightmares, my trot picks up to a canter. I do what I've always done in my dreams even though they proved not to work time and time again. I can't help it because of how I feel and I honestly can't think of a better option anyway. Returning to my sister's place does cross my mind but there's still a chance I might be intercepted before I get there.

Worse; what if my sister is replaced too?

Just like last time, the whistle fades a certain distance before suddenly picking up ahead of me and cutting off behind me. The song also continues to pick up where it left off but it also sounds like a different voice each time it picks up. Most ponies probably could not tell something like that just from a simple whistle but I'm Sweetie Belle. My ears are more attuned to subtilties of music better than the average pony.

The pattern finally changes with the fourth switch. This time, not only is the whistle continuing in the area I left, but it picks up in three places ahead of me. Moments later, those voices echo about me as if the song is starting to surround me. It reminds me of a predator circling around and closing in on his prey.

Is this a dream or not? What if it's real this time? What if I'm in true danger? What if he decides to kill me?

Somepony, anypony, HELP ME!

“Good evening, Sweetie Belle,” a voice of a familiar mare speaks nearby me. The moment she spoke, I yelp, startled again, then quickly spin about to face her. When I do, I realize I am confronted by a lime green mare with a white mane. I can't see her eyes too well in this dim lighting and I'm standing at the wrong angle to see her cutie mark since she's looking directly towards me but there's still no mistaking who this is.

“Goo . . . Good evening to you too, Lyra Heartstrings,” I return with relief until a troubling question occurs to me. “Wait . . . you called me Sweetie Belle.” I tilt my head at her curiously. “How did you know that?”

“Oh, I know many things about you, Sweetie Belle. Perhaps even more than you know yourself,” Lyra tells me with a menacing inflection that causes me to cringe.

Then, as if to confirm my worst fear about her, I see her face morph in several ways. Her eyes narrow sideways like a snake. Those same eyes also grow red like they are bloodshot. Her jaw also drops to an unnatural degree. From within her mouth, I hear a snake-like hiss. I also see many spikes grow inside of her mouth as if she had recently chewed on barbed wire except each spike grows exponentially. Those spikes even pierce through her own tongue and the side of her mouth. It's honestly a wonder that she's not drooling a pool of blood right now because of these self-inflicted injuries.

The point is well taken in any case. She is revealing herself to be a monster in front of me and it is successfully leaving a very deep psychological scar in me.

“Wha . . . what do you want with me?” I ask fearfully while in the midst of a strong cringe.

At first “Lyra” does not answer me. She just steps forward then leans forward as if to take a bite out of my neck with her mouth filled with many iron spikes. During this moment, I totally freeze other than an uncontrollable shiver. I don't feel as if I can control my muscles right now even if I want to.

But then “Lyra” pulls back while taking a deep whiff before declaring in satisfaction, “Ah . . . the sweet smell of fear.” Her monstrous bloodshot eyes look at me. “You know your place well, little one. For as long as you fear me, I shall spare you.”

Far be it for me to complain about her sparing me, but it does raise some disturbing questions.

“Do you just want to feed off my fear like changelings usually do with love? Is that something else that sustains you?” I ask with worry.

She shrugs as she answers, “To some extent. There's also something to be said about the tactical advantages of certain psychological responses to one's prey.”

“And that is how you see me?”

After I ask that, I see the spikes withdraw back into her mouth and her eyes return to “normal”. As the spikes retreat, her mouth and tongue morph into a perfectly healed state.

“Actually, my perception of you has changed quite a bit recently,” the changeling imposter of Lyra tells me. “Honestly, this isn't the first time I've viewed you as a valuable experiment, but the circumstances have changed.” The fake Lyra reaches forward to boop me on my nose as she says, “You should consider yourself very fortunate because you've recently undergone an upgrade in status. Before long, you will realize that you have ascended to become a member of the new master race.” She bows to me. “Although that wasn't my direct intention, congratulations are in order nevertheless.”

“Master race?” I query while feeling deeply disturbed by that implication.

“Why yes!” the fake Lyra immediately agrees. “After all, you are living in my world even as we speak. Very soon, changelings will receive the noble status that they deserve. I'll see to that.”

“What do you mean that this is 'your world'?” I ask as I sit down and make hoof quotes. “I get how a villain like you might have aspersions to take over the world, but you haven’t succeeded yet.”

“Oh, but I have,” the fake Lyra argues. “Even now, I have changeling agents replace key members of many areas in Equestria. I already rule this continent in all but name. I'm just waiting to put a few more key things in place before I make the big reveal and make it all official.” She points to me. “You live and breathe in my world only because it amuses me and because I have a certain fondness for members of my race. Psychologically I'm also interested to see how your mind unfolds as you steadily observe your new reality take shape.

“Frankly, you're not the only one who is fortunate. To a much lesser extent, your friends and family will benefit from your upgrade in status. As a soon-to-be member of the ruling class, you will have a say what the fate of the others is.” She grows an evil grin as she goes on to say, “For example, your friend Button Mash is also in a curious state of affairs. Be that as it may, I'll allow you to keep 'her' and pamper 'her' as much as you wish.” The sinister look deepens in her eyes in an amused way. “I'm sure she'll make a very cute pet.”

I gulp nervously while also feeling a small trickle of rage. I ask her, “Why are you telling me all of this? Why don't you just finish me off now?”

“Finish you off?” fake Lyra asks me with a tilt of her head. “Now why should I do that? You're no threat to me.” She straightens as she says more seriously, “I'm telling you this now to make it clear where our relationship stands. Things for you have developed in a direction I did not expect so I'll be watching your movements now with great interest.” She twirls a hoof to her side. “So just sit back and relax. Try to enjoy the show as it evolves around you. You might get some amusement out of it too.”

Fake Lyra leans her head forward, closing the gap between our faces to merely six inches.

“Just in case you gain any 'heroic' or 'noble' aspirations, or at least as you would define it, try to remember how we are literally surrounded by hostages,” she proclaims as she waves a hoof about in a grand gesture of the whole town. “Not everypony is replaced, mind you, and I can give those who are not a very bad day!” She narrows her eyes at me as her head lifts up straight again. “Ocellus told you what happens to those who whisper the name of our organization, didn't she?” She gives me an evil smile. “It might be a defunct organization now but I still have my professional pride. Don't cross me, little filly,” she warns me with sudden and startling intensity on the word “don't” before going on to say, “You wouldn't like me when you cross me.”

I cringe fearfully again as she reaches a lime green hoof towards me and strokes me softly on my cheek. Despite how gentle her touch is, I emotionally feel like I'm being burnt by acid.

“I can make things so unpleasant for you and those you love,” she tells me in a tender voice which is a severe contrast to the words she said which makes her seem like such a chilling sociopath. “Your worst nightmares cannot even come close to the damage I can wreak for you.” Her hoof lowers from my face. “I don't have any weaknesses like you do for I have no attachment to anyone else.” She squints one eye at me. “But since you do . . . I highly suggest you remember that.”

“I'll be a good girl,” I promise fearfully.

“Good!” fake Lyra says cheerfully in a way that heavily reminds me of the real Lyra Heartstrings. All of a sudden this fake seems just like the genuine article. “Then we're going to get along famously!”

She turns around but keeps her gaze locked on me over her shoulder as she adds, “And, as I said before, enjoy the show!

“Oh! Also be sure to tell anypony you don't care for about our conversation tonight. Do that,” she pauses as she lifts her hoof to her neck and gives a slicing motion across her neck, “and I'll make sure they don't get a chance to tell anypony else the secret ever again.”

She smiles so brightly that she closes her eyes as she says, “Toodles for now!”

At that point she faces forward again and canters off with that cheery and haunting tune on her lips. She quickly seems to merge into the shadows between an alley. When she does that, the song seems to echo around me again, confusing her true position.

I am numb with shock for . . . Well, I don't know how long. All I do know is this state is broken when I hear somepony else attempt to get my attention.

“Pssssssssst!” says a whisper in the shadows of another alley. “Little filly . . . come hither,” the voice bids. It's hard to tell, but I think that voice is the voice of the changeling in his true form.

Despite myself, I feel driven into that alleyway. I don't even want to go in there but it feels like my body has a mind of its own.

Eventually I look down into the water in a wooden bucket. When I do, I see the stars reflected in it. The shadow of a head partially obscures it. I notice it looks like my own head but it does not follow my head movements.

Then, a second later, the chilling eyes in the reflection glow green. I look to the side at a wall to see if my actual eyes are glowing but, apparently, they are not. The light seems to be coming from the reflection alone.

“We need to talk,” the changeling in the reflection of the water tells me. “For you just met an aspect of my true self. It was not really his true self, though. He simply controlled that clone from a distance within his cave.”

“Am I dreaming?” I ask aloud. “I must be dreaming.”

“Shhhh!” the changeling shushes me. “Keep your voice down . . . and no! You're not dreaming this time. Our connection is intensifying enough that I can now partially contact you in the waking world.

“More importantly, you met an aspect of my true self. More importantly than that, he's aware of you and interested in you.” He shrugs. “That makes perfect sense to me because you are the one that got away. Perhaps even the only one. So, naturally, he'd be interested in you.” He narrows his eyes. “But not just you. I think he's also interested to see if I survived within you because I'm the only one he regards as a true threat. After all, I'm the one with the means and the motive to unravel his plans.”

“Then let's do it!” I encourage. “Let's confront him in his lair and free all of those he captured from their slime cocoons. If we do so, his plan will unravel, right? You said his changeling clones will rebel against his control. This will also make him lose contact with the bodies of his changeling clones.”

The changeling in the pool shakes his head as he says, “The time is not ripe yet. I told you earlier that we need the element of surprise and, right now, that's too difficult to maintain if we act too hastily. He just told us that he's watching us closely. This is absolutely the wrong time for rash actions.”

“But-”

“Besides,” he interrupts. “I don't know where his lair is.”

I am taken aback as I ask, “What?! But aren't you his clone? Wouldn't you know this stuff?”

He shakes his head as he says, “Apparently Mirror Pool clones have imperfect memories of their original selves.” He growls. “That's absolutely annoying!” He calms down as he continues. “But that's consistent with an earlier report I have.” He looks to his side with uncertainty. “Either that, or it's direct observation.” He looks back at me. “Either way, I gained some intel from a clone of Pinkie Pie who escaped earlier. She was living in Manehatten and goes by a different name now. Her recollection of Pinkie's life seems fuzzy.” He waves a hoof. “Aside from that, she seems content to develop a new life of her own. I think even her cutie mark got changed.”

Again, I am taken aback as I ask, “Really? How? I thought we can't change our destiny any more than we can change our cutie mark.”

He shrugs as he says, “Don't ask me about pony destinies and cutie marks, but in this particular case, a new pony results in a new cutie mark. Don't you dare argue cutie mark philosophies and semantics with me. I am not a member of your disgusting Crusaders. My priorities lie elsewhere.”

“Wait a second!” I widen my eyes at the reflection. “You changelings can smell emotions, can't you? And that fake just took a deep whiff of me. Wouldn't she smell your emotions too since you're part of my body?”

The changeling in the pool shakes his head. In the dim lighting, I can barely see a cunning grin grow on his face.

“No because I took minor control of our body during that moment,” he tells me. “Specifically our shapeshifting abilities. With it, I disguised our scent by projecting a false pheromone.” He thinks about it for a second before correcting, “Well, partially false pheromone.” He waves a hoof. “I did nothing to disguise your fear because he would expect to smell that. If he smelled confidence instead, he'd know there's a reason for it which would quickly lead him to the conclusion that I might be alive inside of you.” He shakes his head. “If he had suspected that then or later, I doubt we'd have long to live.”

I gulp nervously.

“Yes!” the changeling says with a grunt of approval and excitement. “Hold tight to that fear, for it will shield you as he promised. Furthermore, I know he's not lying when he said he's interested in you because you became a changeling. That reason alone is why he's reluctant to hurt you and why he gave you a warning instead of taking no chances and silencing you permanently.” He narrows his glowing green eyes at me. “You really are a fortunate filly.”

“But we can't just do nothing!” I argue.

“That's exactly what we need to do right now!” the changeling argues back. “At least for now. Lie low and do whatever you'd normally do in this situation if I was not here to guide and protect you. Pretend it's just you facing this threat on your own because that is what he expects and that is what he needs to observe.”

“Do you really think he'd hurt my friends and family just to protect his secret?” I ask nervously.

“Absolutely,” he confirms immediately. “Or at least he'd take some measures to make sure they are neutralized as a threat.” He shakes his head. “That does not necessarily mean he'd kill them. After all, we both like to maintain clear professionalism here. To us, that means leaving no evidence to discover.” He shakes his head again. “And dead bodies are a messy business to work with. Sure, we can replace them temporarily but it's usually only a matter of time before somepony suspects. As for the bodies themselves, we typically try to burn them and bury the ashes or some other thorough way to be rid of it, but it should be noted that no strategy of disposal is typically perfect. That being the case, alternative strategies should at least be considered.

“Given the kinds of resources he has to work with here, I rather suspect that, if you blabbed his secret to anypony, then that pony will be targeted next for a ponynapping and replacement with a changeling clone. After all, those are easier to work with.

“After that, he'd come after you next if he knew you're the source of the leak.” He waves a hoof. “He gave you one warning tonight. Do not expect another. Next time he will strike without warning and, when he does, he will make sure you do not get a chance to counter strike.”

“Even though killing me risks discovery?” I check with a bit of hope in my voice.

He tilts his head at me as he counters my question with another question. “If you were suddenly missing, would that be considered a unique case?” He straightens his head as he encourages, “Think this through! Of course he'd be reluctant to kill you due to the risks but, if you prove to be a greater risk while alive, it would force him to weigh the cost/benefit analysis again. If he finds you wanting then I guarantee he won't lose much sleep over killing you, and don't think the fact you are a filly would give him any hesitation.

“No.” He shakes his head. “The fact you are a member of the true changelings, a breed he now considers an endangered species, is the true reason he's hesitating for now. That, and the fact he's interested to study your mind psychologically as you explore your new situation.” He gives an evil grin. “We really do have interest in issues like that because it makes us better spies and manipulators.” He taps his head with a hoof. “Knowing the inner workings of the mind teaches us how to be better impersonators. Trust me,” he pauses for a moment as he leans backwards then forwards like a stretching cat trying to get comfortable before he resumes, “we take our work very seriously. Such things are required to be a member of our former organization.”

“So that's it? We do nothing?” I double-check.

“Biding our time and waiting for the right moment to strike can be considered an action,” he explains as if that might comfort me. “Pretending to lay low while remaining prepared to act is important for the moment. If you really want to save your friends, you'll listen to me and do exactly as I tell you.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I'm the only real advantage you've got.”

“My friends can help me if they know,” I say then shake my head. “It doesn't have to be now, though. I can tell them later when 'the time is right’. If we really want to succeed in a goal this difficult, we should really consider utilizing the resources of my friends.” I lean down as I look at the water more closely. “Isn't that something you would do? Utilize every tactical advantage you can get? Especially if you consider yourself to be on the losing end?”

He stares at me for a few seconds in silence before nodding his head and admitting, “Point taken, but don't tell them until I tell you to tell them. Just as you are being monitored, so too is everypony you talk to. They might be one of the unwitting spies or soon will be if they are caught with that information. We have to move very carefully.”

I smile as I lift my head back up. I feel proud that I got him to agree to that much at least.

Author's Note

And back to tension, although it's undercut by a possible secret ally.

It's really easy to question reality in a situation like this. It's hard for Sweetie to know what to trust, even her senses. Dreams and reality start to blur with an antagonist that approaches Sweetie on both levels and does so in very scary but also surreal ways. The disguised changeling that spoke to her outright admitted that she's an interesting psychological experiment, and this coming from one who is both interested in and an adept scholar of the mind.

Who should she trust in a situation like this?

One way or another, that is certainly something an antagonist would want Sweetie to ask herself because it undercuts the source of her strength, and he just might be intelligent enough to recognize that threat.

And how about this timing? A chapter better suited to come out on Halloween instead comes out on Christmas Day exactly.

I swear I did not plan that on purpose when I announced to post a new chapter every Saturday.

Well, happy holidays anyway! I hope you enjoyed this present whenever you decide to open it.