As expected, they offered surrender terms. If Pharynx and his swarm bowed down to the pretender and promised never to fight ever again, they would be allowed to live. The pretender was even willing to offer them positions of power, positions that their skill in the war had shown they deserved.
For a moment, Pharynx succumbed to temptation and dared to imagine accepting; his swarm all eating their fill of love, Carapace learning the secrets of the stonecarving he enjoyed, Ento and Exo directing their competitive instincts somewhere more constructive, himself standing beside and helping his broodmate...
...and then the maulwaurf crashes through the flowers and changelings start screaming and-
He shook his head. "I've lived like a changeling," he growled to the messenger. "I'll die like one."
His swarm, taking their alpha's lead, all nodded.
The messenger sighed, then left, quickly retreating along with their guards to the allied camp at the base of the hill. From the mouth of the entrance to their hideout, Pharynx could see several banners fluttering, the new friends little broodmate had learned to hide behind. Equestrian, draconic, Yakyakistani, all here to do what Thorax couldn't and stop him. And that they would; even at a rough guess, he counted at least three hundred soldiers in the camp, definitely more. Carapace had confirmed that they were surrounded when he'd sealed the back exit, and he could've sworn he heard faint digging when he'd tried to get some sleep last night.
They were trapped, like flies in a web.
But these flies, at least, still had some sting.
"Let's show them what being a changeling means," he said, before leaping out of the cave mouth.
As soon as he did so, he felt the faint buzz of unicorn magic hovering over his skin. Ducking to the side, he narrowly dodged a bolt of golden magic, spitting up shards of rock where it broke the ground. Three more buzzes traced him, the hill exploding behind him as he darted across the ground.
It was all up to his instincts, now; one misstep or one missed dodge, and he was dead. The Equestrians were being smart, switching from their usual stunning spells to more aggressive ones; they didn't want his surrender, they wanted him gone, not to be a problem anymore, whatever it took. He couldn't make them out from this distance, but he knew even without looking that the ponies lined up at the bottom of the hill were glaring at him with nothing but anger and hatred. They loathed him, what he was, what he represented, and they weren't going to let it stand any longer.
The ground tore up behind him as he raced down the slope, every blast missing him by the slimmest of scales. Other explosions shredded the rest of the hillside, trying to hit his swarm, following their alpha even to their death. Pride bubbled up in his heart, quickly getting popped by his self-preservation as a cloud of sand billowed in front of his face.
A wet, sickening crunch, then a scream; Antenna was hit, the only hit the Equestrians needed. For the second his pain held him still, the Equestrians took aim and fired, and the swarm was down to eight.
Pharynx didn't even slow down. Not that he could, not if he wanted to live, but he also knew that Antenna wouldn't want him to even if he could; it wasn't the changeling way. Individuals died, but the swarm lived on, and true changelings gave everything to the swarm, leaving nothing to mourn when they died individually. Antenna was still with them, still within the swarm, and Pharynx swore that he would show the ponies that before the end of the day.
Halfway down the hill now. The unicorns' rate of fire sped up as the slope leveled off, the air almost sizzling with magic as the swarm of eight - seven, Larynx was hit - charged. Their pegasus and earth pony swarmmates stood ready behind them, shields and spears ready to form a line when the swarm closed. He even saw a few traitorous changelings standing among them, clad in the enemy's arms undisguised. He glared at them; their home was in danger, and they served one of the things threatening it? Did everyling look at Chrysalis' fall as an excuse to abandon all responsibility?
They'd almost reached the ponies' lines when Ento and Exo fell, twins to the end. Their killers fell back, the unicorns retreating behind their swarmmates' shield wall as it moved into position, quickly forming a metal wall bristling with spears. They probably thought it would protect them, like their good captain's shield had at Canterlot.
He smirked as green fire began creeping up his legs. They'd thought wrong.
It wasn't Pharynx the changeling who crashed through their lines, it was Pharynx the bugbear, his muscled arms picking up their shields and flinging them away like loose scales. The unicorns could hit him now, but he didn't care, his tough hide eating their now puny-seeming blasts.
As for their comrades from the broken shield line, they turned to fight him, stabbing with their spears or kicking with their hooves. They might as well have struck a mountain; he paid their blows no mind, giving out several of his own. He managed to grab an overextended spear and yank it out of its wielder's grasp, then slashed them across the face with it. A grazing blow, barely enough to draw blood, and they still screamed like Antenna dying. Rage ballooned up in him, and he silenced them with a whack from the shaft.
A unicorn blast struck him in the face, burning like a coal. Turning to the caster, he bellowed a battlecry and charged their patrol, sweeping his spear like a scythe. More coals stung him, but he pressed on, and they scattered before him like dust. One brave fool tried jumping up to blast him clean in the face. He could respect the bravery, but, as he showed them with a swing of the shaft, not the tactic.
Another death-rattle, Carapace's this time. Red clouded Pharynx's vision. How many more changelings needed to die? How many more would die before his idiot broodmate realized that the changelings needed to be strong? He darted his head, looking around even as he swept back wave after wave of ponies; if he could find what he was looking for, hopefully only one more changeling would need to die.
There! Standing by the purple princess and her dragon pet, fretting just as much as the pony.
A great bellow and another sweep with his spear, and then Pharynx charged, clawing his way through the swarm between him and his prey. Faintly, he heard the remnants of his swarm, down to three now, coming to cover him, but he paid them no heed, all his attention focused on his prey and anything that stood between them.
Ponies and traitors blocked him, ineffectual blows either glancing off of or grazing him before their strikers were thrown aside. A crude, second shield wall was raised before him, and just as quickly as the first broken and scattered. Magic turned the air into a desert wind, and nothing had ever smelled so sweet. He lost his stolen spear and the rest of his swarm, but he pushed on, his own body and grim resolve taking their place.
One last obstacle, and then he was open, nothing between him and his prey, staring back at him with wide eyes.
Hello, Thorax.
Loosing a savage roar, Pharynx charged, stinger raised for the kill. The purple princess' pet stepped in front of Thorax, trying to intercept the blow. Mentally, he scoffed, and prepared to swat its blue body aside before-
Wait, blue? The princess' pet was purple, like her.
He looked at the dragon again in confusion, but saw not blue or pale purple but a rich mage color, the color of their flame billowing towards-
He lay in darkness and agony, as he had for the past two days.
His idiot broodmate, currently sniffling beside him, had sent for the healers after the dragon, one of his new friends, cut off her flame. The sniffling fool had pleaded for them to do something, anything to help his brother.
Pharynx was no healer, but he doubted that there was anything they could do for someone scorched by fire hot enough to burn out his sight.
The real healers agreed with him, telling Thorax that all they could do was make Pharynx's last moments comfortable. Not even the pony princesses had been able to help, despite the purple one's pleas to her elders. There were some wounds not even the might of the Sun and Moon could heal, apparently.
So here he lay, the infernal beeps of the pony healers' equipment and Thorax's sniffles in his ears, darkness in his eyes, and pain flooding his wrecked body, simply waiting to die.
"Why, Pharynx?" Thorax sobbed. "Why did you have to fight?"
Pharynx raised what remained of his eyebrows. Did the idiot seriously not know?
"You," he started, but was quickly cut off by a burst of coughing. His throat felt like a freshly-carved tunnel, and what was left of his lungs wheezed with the effort.
"Don't talk," his broodmate murmured, voice thick with pity. "I don't want you to get hurt any more. If you have to say anything, use Horse code."
Pharynx snorted (and promptly fell into another coughing fit), but obeyed, and began tapping with as much strength as he could muster on what he assumed was his nest's frame.
"You," Thorax slowly began translating, "were making the Hive weak when we needed to be strong. We couldn't protect ourselves, we couldn't rule ourselves, we couldn't help ourselves, and whenever that became a problem you looked for someone to hide behind. You never wanted to be like Chrysalis, even when she was right. Oh, Pharynx, why didn't you tell me this?"
Pharynx rolled his burned-up eyes, then continued tapping.
"I did try to tell you, multiple times, but you never listened. You always wanted to do things the pony way, even when we needed to do things the changeling way. You can't friendship a..." Thorax swallowed. "...a maulwaurf away. But we did, Pharynx; my friendship with Starlight and Trixie allowed us to drive the maulwaurf-"
Foreleg burning, Pharynx sped up his tapping, trying to get his broodmate to see.
"That wasn't the Hive," Thorax audibly frowned. "That was your pony friends. Why do we have to rely on your pony friends if we want to be safe? Why is it wrong for us to keep ourselves safe? Why-"
A slip of his hoof, a crunch, and another flood of agony swelled the chorus in Pharynx's body. Hissing as feebly as his body allowed, Pharynx clutched his broken leg to his chest, then moved the other one to take its place-
-and found it held down, clutched firmly in Thorax's grip.
"No, Pharynx," he commanded with a voice almost befitting his new status. "I won't allow you to hurt yourself anymore. You've already suffered enough. Especially," his voice quavered, "since you were right."
The disintegrated eyebrows rose again; the changeling-who-should-have-been-a-pony was willing to admit that the pony way-
"I was afraid to be like Chrysalis," Thorax continued. "I didn't want anyling to go through what she put us through ever again. And, when you were still around, I did think that meant no fighting. But, as time went on, I realized that that was wrong; sometimes, love requires that you fight. The key is why you fight; Chrysalis had us fight to gain power, but I realized we needed to fight to protect ourselves, to protect what's behind us instead of trying to steal what's in front of us." Pharynx's hollow cheek buzzed as a wet snout nuzzled him. "That's what you were trying to tell me, Pharynx; you wanted to keep the Hive safe, not bring back Chrysalis' way. You wanted us to protect ourselves, not conquer others. I see that now, Pharynx; I see what you were trying to tell me. But, there's one way you're still wrong."
Pharynx curled the remnants of his lip, hissing for an answer.
"It was the Hive that stopped the maulwaurf," Thorax replied. "Friendship doesn't make the Hive weak, it makes it strong. And bigger." He chuckled. "A lot bigger. Everyone you fought, Pharynx, all those creatures? Thanks to friendship, they're our swarmmates, members of our hive. Our bond might not be as direct as it was for you and your swarm, but it's still there, still true. The Hive-The Hive's only about two-thirds changeling, now; a lot of dragons like the area, and there are plenty of ponies, too. But all of them are part of the Hive, part of my swarm, just as I'm part of their's. I won't lie, it is scary, and there's always that little bit of doubt, but the funny thing? I've seen that doubt fail more often than the friendships it says will."
Pharynx paused, absorbing everything that his broodmate said. Hesitantly, he tugged his hoof out of Thorax's grip and tapped on the railing, asking, Is the Hive safe?
Even blind as he was, he could see the smile Thorax was sending his way. "It is, Pharynx," he murmured. "Safer than it's ever been."
Muscles burning, chitin flaking away, Pharynx smiled back.
"I," rasped out of his throat, "win."
He could smell Thorax's confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked nervously. "Win what?"
"The," Pharynx replied, "war."
Thorax backed away. "How? You're-you're the last of your swarm, how-how can you have won?"
"Hive," Pharynx whispered, "safe. Why I," his body was racked with another cough, "fought, my reason. Hive's safe, so I win."
One last cough racked him, then a comfortable lightness came over him, dulling the pain. "You did, Pharynx," Thorax's reappearing muzzle sobbed. "You won. The Hive's safe. You won."
"You're," he gasped, "strong, Thorax. You're strong, now; I know I've won."
Thorax blubbered a chuckle. "That's right, I'm big and strong now. My-my big brother taught me well."
"No," Pharynx sighed with pride. "You taught yourself. I win, bro-ther; I win."
His swarm fell to none.
