"Are you sure you don't want to return to the hotel with the three of them, Anon?" Blueblood asked, as Starlight, Trixie, Emerald and their guard escort broke off from the group. I didn't need to look at him to feel his gaze on me as I stopped to watch the others leave. "Although Ms. Lulamoon seemed perturbed by the days events, I don't think either Emerald or Ms. Glimmer blame you for any of what happened. If anything, they both seem anxious to see you go."

He kept a respectable distance as I watched the group round a corner. I wasn't particularly worried about that. Emerald, I don't think, really understood everything that happened. At most, she might've understood that I'd made sure that her abuser would never hurt her again. My empathic senses had been overclocked with my new body, and the knowledge Hunger—or Désirée, whichever—crammed in my head had given me a much better understanding of emotions, so I could tell that when she'd been too busy fussing over me to pay attention to what I'd been saying.

As for Starlight, she might need some time to process what had happened. Sure she'd had her own fall from grace and subsequent redemption arc. Because of that, she might even be able to relate the most among any pony outside the guards or maybe the elder princesses. Still, I'd allowed myself to get played by a force beyond my mortal comprehension, and although I'd certainly have killed Raging Storm either way, I wouldn't have been able to bring myself dismember, maim, and turn several ponies into paste... No, she'd stoked my hatred so hard that it was quite literally overflowing...

I still remember the way it burned my skin.

Besides, Emerald was promised a stuffed animal and an ice cream dinner. At present, I couldn't even stomach the thought of food; on top of feeling ill over what I was tricked into doing, Emerald's genuine affection and fussing had been surprisingly enough for me to passively feed and left me feeling kinda bloated. If I'd gone with them, one twin not getting food while the other got ice cream for dinner would raise too many questions.

"Yeah," I murmured, finally turning to join him. "I know, Blue." Adjusting my glasses, I looked up at him. "They might not need the time to think, but I do... about what I've become, how my life will change... and what happens next."

The moment the two of us started moving, the baker's half dozen guards accompanying us back to the base formed up around us, one on either side of us, two in front, another two in back, and then Lieutenant Summer Haze flying overwatch. Procedure or not, it honestly felt kinda unnecessary. Those of the Blackwings that I initially spared who chose not to turn themselves in would likely have already got the news out Raging Storm was fucked, and that a crackdown that the Manehattan P.D. couldn't protect them from was coming. They'd be too busy fighting among one another in the power vacuum I'd created, or running for the hills.

"To tell the truth," I began after we'd walked a few blocks in silence, "There's also something I wanted to run by you... something Starlight would never approve of."

He didn't even turn to look at me. I didn't need him to in order to know that he was quite aware of what I was thinking. The horror and revulsion gave it away. "You want us to give you up in order to buy your aunt, and all of Manehattan, some time," he probed, and I could feel the other guards look from him to me. "That's what you're thinking, right?"

"Well, yeah," I said. As we walked, I focused on all the information that had been stuffed into my head. Creating a form from scratch is probably above me for the time being, but mimicry, something I'm deeply familiar with, and subtle alterations shouldn't be too hard. "They wanted the alicorn responsible for shooting down their battle blimp..."

It wasn't like casting a spell with runic magic; it was one part willpower, two parts visualisation, and one part instinct. In my mind's eye, I pictured my pony form—imperfections and all—and added on a horn like Sweetie Belle's and wings like Scootaloo. Of course I pictured those additions in my colouration, but still, with that image in mind, I did what the jumble of new memories—and this new body's instinct—told me, pooling my mana at my hooves and then dragging it up my body. One of the privates squawked in alarm, probably because I'd just sprouted wings and a horn in a flash of blue flame.

It was particularly odd, because I could feel the new additions to my body. All of the muscles in the wings, the touch of the air on the feathers... I'd have thought that the sudden increase in nerve-structures would have overwhelmed my brain. If I'd been a pony, such a thing probably would have put me in shock, but changelings seemed wired for what Keith would have deemed 'plug-and-play'.

"I'm the one they wanted anyways, and I can be an alicorn," I said, relaxing back into my original pony form. Fuck, it feels weird having pegasus wings and then not having pegasus wings. "It makes sense to hand me over."

With the fury that rolled off him when he snapped around to tower over me, you'd have sworn he'd just slapped me, for all the unintended mental recoil I that mental assault inflicted. "Previous life's experience or not, Anonymous, you are but a child," he said with a tone of exasperation. His anger quickly bled away into regret when he noticed I'd unconsciously backed into the guard at the group's right flank. "Never in Equestria's history has a child been used as a bargaining chip... Not in all the history of the Royal Guard, and Auntie would say such a thing was unconscionable. I shall brook no more discussion of the matter, my friend."

The remainder of the trip was spent in silence. After having my idea shot down, I didn't feel much like talking. You're being a noble idiot of a different sort, now, I thought with some sadness. I'm the reason the headsman's axe is poised over Manehattan... If I'd found another way to disable their aircraft, they'd have almost no interest in the city, because they wouldn't think there'd been an alicorn... and the only reason they even think that is because I constructed a literal rail-gun spell.

Actually, that didn't entirely add up. That was a spell that any adult unicorn could cast, if only they knew the spell array. Did the Storm King's forces believe that because no other ponies had made that sort of overwhelming display of force, that it took a really powerful spell-caster, or an alicorn? In reality, it was more likely that Equestrians seldom used such highly destructive spells since they hadn't seen true war in quite some time, and a spell like that wasn't exactly conducive to peace-keeping.

A firing line of unicorns casting that spell, even if it put them in magic time-out for a few days, could level a city in seconds. That wasn't the pony way, though. Such spells being in the hooves of civilians was forbidden. They didn't need weapons of mass destruction, because for the longest time, Celestia was feared and respected—she'd been Equestria's Sword of Damocles. The only reason the invaders even held Canterlot was because they'd ambushed the alicorns with some sort of secret weapon.

When we reached the base's front gate, the protective formation broke apart. Lieutenant Haze landed in front of Blueblood. "Lieutenant, please escort Anonymous Flicker to one of the empty officer berths in the barracks," he commanded, glancing back down at me before beginning to walk away. "If anypony protests, you send them directly to me. I want her to be kept safe until she and the others are transferred up to that little hamlet in the north. Once she's situated, go get some rest."

"Yes, Your Highness," she responded with a quick salute, watching until he was almost at the HQ building. "C'mon, kid," she said, not sparing me a glance. Instead, she looked to the ponies that'd been part of the escort. "You two, on me. The rest of you are to resume your regular duties."

There was a resounding "Yes ma'am," and then we were off. As we went, I eyed up the building better. I hadn't paid much attention to it when we were through earlier today, but it was brick the entire way up. Except for the windows on the top floor, all the windows were of the awning variety—no space for even a pony of my size to slip through. The top floor, however, had regular double windows.

The inside of the building was about what I expected of a barrack building. In fact, it kinda even reminded me of the crew quarters on the cargo ship, with all the communal spaces and shared berths we walked past. As we went, she explained that I couldn't have free reign of the base, but the two guards following us would be able to escort me to the mess hall, or fetch something. Before too long, I found myself being led up several flights of stairs. Everything on this floor was much cushier than downstairs. Definitely the officer quarters.

~ 40 ~

Just as Harmony had promised, the 'dream bridge'—what she'd called the construct that had become permanent—was still in place. It admittedly took a lot of effort to still my mind enough to reach that place. My mind was whirling from everything that had happened today, and I needed time to process it. That was why I'd drug the pillow off the bed and under the writing desk provided in the room in the first place, to relax completely and work to clear my mind.

Once more, I conjured up a deck of cards, shuffling it with my hooves. In here they still looked normal, although the crystalline walls now fully reflected my changeling form. Was it a subconscious change I had made? I wondered, setting out the cards into seven columns of increasing number. Or did Harmony do this as a reminder of the choices I made?

That didn't matter right now. What did matter, as I played cards to organise my thoughts, was that I had taken eighteen lives today. Seven of those lives were ponies that had nothing to do with the abuses Emerald faced; the only reason they'd died at all was because they refused to get out of the way, and put their hooves on me. Even with the manic calm my hate-altered mental state had provided, them putting their hooves on me had triggered the same sort of panic response that had caused me to shoulder-throw Pinkie that time.

Unlike Pinkie, however, that pony I threw to the floor didn't get back up; back then, I wasn't hopped up on a spell that was basically magical PCP. I can't shake that scared look in his eyes when he realised his spine and neck had been pulverised... that he was dying. The others, though, they wanted revenge for their comrade, and I had to protect myself... didn't I? Why couldn't you guys have just gotten out of the way like the six I'd let go? I tried to make it fast for the rest of them, but...

Those seven were the only ones I actually felt bad for killing. Palooka, Pretty Joe, the three in their shipping and receiving room, and the five outside Raging Storm's office—I recognised all of them from those memories of Emerald's that resurfaced when I bore witness to the medical scan Starlight had cast. They were, in my eyes, all utterly irredeemable. I maybe should have felt something at ending them, but that was just... empty. I felt no worse having killed them than I did any time I swatted a fly. Should I be worried about that?

Raging Storm? I still don't approve of the method Hunger had me use to kill him, but... It was strange. I was self-aware enough to be able to know where Emerald stopped and I began, and yet I felt... elated that he was dead. The bastard had been punished for his sins, and would never ruin another pony's life again. Not only that, but it was like a weight off my shoulders. In killing him, I've put to rest everything I felt about Paul Whitley—Mom's murderer. All the fear and hate that I held for the man, all these years after his suicide, perished with Raging Storm.

All of it has been purged, and I achieved a state of catharsis.

With a sigh, I scooped up the cards. I'd saved Starlight and Trixie, and ensured that Emerald would never be threatened by her step-monster or his gang ever again. Protecting them felt... right. Until this invasion was resolved, there was still the risk of the Storm King's forces attacking this city in search of me. That won't change if all of us leave the city, and even ift the guard fight's back, there's just going to be more meaningless death.

So why, then, was Blueblood being so stubborn? I offered him the perfect solution. The city would be safe... the others would be safe. Everypony would be safe, so why won't he do the rational thing? The answer was obvious. It wasn't just because he was a royal, a leader, and needed to be an exemplar of true nobility in these times of trial. Just as I wanted to protect everypony else, from a problem I'd inadvertently caused, he wanted to protect me from what the invaders might do to me in retaliation, as well as from myself.

Shaking my head, I began drawing up plans. Above the table, a transparent map of the city—constructed from where I'd been, extrapolation, and the directory map I'd glanced at when we first exited the train station—floated. Using the tip of my hoof, I started making notes in the air, quite literally printing my thoughts into the space in front of me.

• Flight over city no good. In theory, I should be able to fly as a changeling, but flight in disguise would require practice. I'd be easy to intercept.
• Transformation into guard or small animal to escape base out of question. Knowledge Hunger imparted warns nymphs—even queens—shouldn't attempt major changes in size without sufficient mastery or magic reserves.
• Best bet is to walk down the wall during shift change and quickly fly over fence. Perimeter alarm likely, but I should be able to disguise myself and make for Canterlot.
• How to signal Storm King's forces, though? Do they have an airship watching the city? Fire? Signal flare? Smoke?
• Regardless of hunger, eat something before escape. May need calories or the extra biomass.

This was all mostly for my own benefit, visualising as I plotted a route and marked down my plans; it was just a tool I reckoned might help my recall, and I could just as easy wipe it all away and have no evidence. That was, after all, exactly what I'd done when I was finished. There was only one thing left to do.

I conjured up a sheet of printer paper and a fountain pen. I paused to consider my words carefully. Sure, I was taking a chance that, like the dolls I'd created for her, this letter would persist until it was dismissed, but it wouldn't be fair to Emerald to vanish without a word, even if we can stay in touch here.

Emerald,

I still fully intend on keeping my promises. Being a big sister to you... protecting you... I still plan on doing all of that. Part of protecting you, unfortunately requires me to leave for a while. If I could do this any other way, and do so face-to-face, I would... but Starlight would never agree with what I have to do.

Some ponies might choose to baby you because of how long Harmony let you rest. Not me, though. I'm going to be honest with you. You may have noticed that the sun is stuck in the sky, as if it were late afternoon. That is because outsiders have invaded Equestria, and they currently hold Canterlot. Nopony knows what these invaders have done, but Princess Celestia is their prisoner and unable to lower the sun. It was these invaders that I protected a train full of ponies from. These invaders now demand that I be hoofed over to them, because of how many of their creatures my spell harmed.

I plan on leaving fairly soon. It might be days or weeks until you see me in pony again. Even if we no longer share a body, we still share this place. I'll try to be here during the nights. Even if I'm a prisoner, I don't think they can keep me from this place.
Your big sister,

Anonymous Flicker

Once I finished penning those words, I rolled up the paper and imagined a green ribbon into existence around it. I took the letter over to the pillow on Emerald's bed and set it down. I'd kept it in simple terms, using only the simple sun-glyphs. If there wasn't anything she really understood, I should be able to explain later.

Making my way over to the door, I wondered something. If I spoke to her in here while I'm here and she's awake, would she hear me? Would she perhaps be able to do the same for me? I kinda doubted I'd be able to separate from my new changeling body and enter control of hers, but using the link to leave messages and communicate at distances could be useful.

Conjuring up a stage mic, I smiled with glee. I've always wanted to do this. "Testing, testing, one two three," I called out, my voice echoing throughout the room despite the lack of speakers. Luckily, it was just a prop, or the feedback would probably have been killer with the acoustics of my real room. Just to be on the safe side, I tapped the microphone twice before continuing. "This thing on?"

There was a startled yelp came back down the link after a moment. 'You scared me, Anon,' she said in a sour tone. 'I almost knocked over my ice cream, and now Starlight's looking at me funny.'

"Oh, shoot, you guys eating? My bad," I apologised. "I just wanted to test to see if this part of our connection had changed at all. Also, you don't need to speak out loud when we talk. You can just think at me." Strictly speaking, I don't think I needed to speak on my end either; I just liked hearing my own voice. "Anyway, just wanted to let you know that I left a letter on your bed in the dream. Try not to read it until bed-time, and tell Starlight I said 'hi!'"

'Mmm,' she said, managing to sound like she was talking with her mouth full... Or was she thinking with her mouth full? 'Okay! Starlight says 'Hi,' too. Bye-bye!'

At that, I banished the microphone, I stepped out the door, slipping back into my body like a hand into a glove. The first thing I noticed was the feeling of amusement and confusion, along with a teensy bit of disgust. The second thing I noticed was that I could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching me. That second bit was less to do with my increased changeling senses, and just that feeling I sometimes got when I thought I was being watched while camping, and it turned out to be a big fuckin' mountain lion watching from the gloom on the other side of the fire.

"You think that nesting behaviour is 'cause she's a bug?" I heard a stallion whisper. I'm pretty sure that was one of the two guards that Summer Haze had posted outside my door. "Or is she just weird?"

"Nah, I went drinking with one of my cousins a few weeks ago—she's the one in the MPs' Protective Services branch," a mare whispered back, a familiar foreign accent reaching my ears and confirming my suspicions that somepony had opened my door to gawk at me. That was the other guard pony. "She was involved in that whole Chrysalis fiasco last month. Anyways, she kept complaining about the pony she'd been guarding. Some neurotic little bundle of nerves the bug took an interest in. She didn't sleep normal either."

I cracked an eye open, looking directly at the door across from the nook beneath the desk. The two guardsponies flinched, and the stallion of the pair whispered, "Sweet Celestia, you see that? Her eyes glow in the dark!"

"She also hears just fine." That proclamation elicited another flinch from the pair. With the grace of a cat, I climbed off the pillow and stretched. The sound of my vertebrae popping—Or is it just my carapace doing that now?—had the same effect on those two as it did Auntie Twilight. I looked over to the stallion, I asked, "I'm a bit peckish; could you go over to the chow hall and get me something to eat?"

"I don't think they stock love there," he said, without any hint of thought or professionalism. Upon noticing my glare, he quickly backpedalled. "Uh... anything particular you would like?"

The only thing that came to mind was pound cake. "Something dense and sugar-rich. One Princess Celestia special, if the mess stocks it." I looked back to the female guard as Mr. Hoof-in-Mouth fucked off. Although it took some effort to return to my pony form, an idea hit me. I needed more transformation practice, and needed to kill time. "While he's gone, I bet I can guess what your cousin looked like."

The mare snorted, stepping into he room. "You're on," she answered, taking position beside the door. Even though she was in armour, that didn't stop her from crossing her hooves with a smug look on her face. "I bet you can't even guess what kind of pony she even is."

Picturing the bat pony guard, I started changing my appearance up, piece by piece. First, my coat went blue-grey... My eyes became cyan with slit pupils. The fur at the tips of my ears went tufty, and my eyelashes grew out. The wings were easy, but it was hard to picture her mane and tail colourations properly. Her cutie mark wasn't vivid enough in my memory for me to reproduce.

Regardless, of whether or not the mark was right, her jaw dropped. "Your cousin's Corporal Evening Script, isn't she?" I said in the bat pony's voice with a smirk. There was little doubt in my mind that I was a nearly perfect replica of the bat pony... if she were a foal. "Yeah, the pony she was griping about was probably me. It's a preference because it makes me feel safe."

I dropped the disguise and took stock of myself. The transformations didn't take up as much energy as I'd have thought. It seemed like my passive recovery was just enough that when not transformed, I recovered whatever I spent transforming. Some of what Hunger crammed into my head was too complex for me to work out, but I was able to glean that my transformation it was capping my maximum available mana, and diverting whatever passive accumulation right back into maintaining the shape.

A shame I don't have any of my spell medallions, I thought, glancing out the window. Even if bug magic allows me to walk down that wall like gravity's my bitch, I dare not try anything with that tiny nub of a horn... Was there anything I could do with my body to make up for the lack of earth pony magic, and a lack of medallions?

"I wonder," I murmured aloud to myself as I used my wings to propel myself up onto the desk. "Fiction in my old world had so much strange, dangerous insect-based life... and they even took inspiration from real life." Scorpion stinger? I could mimic the appearance and function, but it wouldn't produce any venom. Hard carapace plates? I already have a pretty hard carapace, but I can't exactly test how hard they are. How about scythe-like appendages?

Holding my right foreleg in front of me, I pictured my forelimb compressing, becoming denser from the radius down. Extra mass turned into plates along the the front-facing side of the limb. Everything else from the canon down turned into a single solid mass, a curved spike—narrow and razor-sharp along the inside. The point at the end might even be sharp enough to punch through plate armour, although that would all depend on whether I could increase my strength. Regardless, it was a slow a slow process, as it had to be able to support weight.

The guard standing to the side of the door was trembling, and it took me a moment for me to realise that I might've been smiling like a psychopath at my discovery. When the guard stallion let out a surprised squeak and nearly dropped the large chocolate cake he'd brought, it occurred to me that there may be ponies in the guard with bad experiences with changelings. Maybe don't experiment with becoming a horror-terror in front of normal ponies.

I quickly dismissed the experiment and bowed my head. "Sorry, this is all new and exciting," I apologised, my ears folding back slightly as the stallion set the cake down on the table. It was almost as big as me, for the love of god. "I like to keep my mind occupied when I'm stressed the fuck out, and since I don't have any clay to inscribe my runic spells in, or my notebooks, I figured now would be a good time to experiment with my new bug powers."

Did he actually get that in the mess hall, or did he run to a bakery? There was even a metal fork on the plate. Or do they just have freezer full of cakes for when Celestia shows up? I wasted no time picking up the fork—sure, I could literally just make a fork at the end of my hoof, but that'd be like eating with my fingers—and dug into the cake. "You know, it's kinda funny," I commented as I filled my face. "Last time I had a cake like this, I ended up stuffed in a crate and being shipped off to Ponyville." I raised an eyebrow and looked between the two, before grinning. "You gonna send me to the Storm King's army now?"

Maybe it was just the absurdity, but that actually got a chuckle from them both. From that point on, though, they left me to voraciously eat an entire cake, returning to their posts by the door—although they remained in the room for a time. That suited me fine; I was used to eating while being stared at.

"Say... if you need to inscribe runes and you usually use clay," the guy commented when the female guard took the plate back to wherever it belonged. "Have you considered transforming a part of your shell to hold your spell?"

I stared at the stallion for a full minute before ultimately planting my hoof against my face. I didn't even think of that. How could some random guard who seems prone to sticking his own hoof in his mouth come up with that idea before me? ", I'm a moron."

Author's Note

The 'spell on the shell' idea was actually first written in this chapter, although future Anon using it in Vlogs of an Ancient Insect ended up being posted sooner.