Approaching Apotheosis

Four changelings clad in Adamantium armor saluted as I entered the room, their boots clanking against the ground as they straightened up. Their charge, wearing a puffy winter coat, looked up at me like a lounging cat, hatred in her eyes for daring to disturb her.

The quarters were plain and Spartan in nature, sacrificing luxury for security and simplicity. Even the Royal Guards’ barracks was considerably nicer than these pitiful rooms.

“King Phasma,” North Star acknowledged me, green slitted eyes narrowing. “I hope you didn't come here to gloat. I've been called many things in the past, simply giving me a new label will not break me. I am, and always will be, Chrysalis.”

I immediately dismissed the four guards, and they promptly filed out of the room; this would be a complicated conversation, and they didn't need to overhear. Having the extra muscle would be nice- but they would be entirely out of their depth in this fight. Instead, I had arranged for the three Princesses and two Princes in the next room over to listen in on our conversation. If anything went wrong, the five most powerful beings on the planet would be reinforcing me in five seconds flat.

“I see you still have your magic inhibitor ring,” I pointed out. “Has your handler not judged you stable enough for removing that during combat practice?”

She sneered, “I do not need my magic to crush an opponent.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” I said, recalling how terrible I am during my magicless sessions. “In any case, no, I did not come to gloat. There is someone who wants to see you.”

“Oh?” She leaned to the side, peering at the shut door behind me. “And where might they be hiding, hmm?”

I grabbed the necklace hanging off the side of Unbroken Radience's chest piece and extended it out. Procho's amulet dangled from the chain, bent pieces swinging gently.

North Star looked down at the magical jewelry, cocking an eyebrow, “Dear son of mine, I'm afraid your mind is going. We refer to objects as things, not people.”

“I am no object,” came the soft voice. “Though I understand why you'd think otherwise.”

North Star snorted, “What is this? Some party trick?”

“Not what, but whom,” I corrected.

Procho took a breath- ‘Interesting, considering she has no lungs or mouth.’- before speaking, “You have not changed at all, mother. Princess Prochorodes, reporting in. I may have missed my rendezvous at the Underhive gate.”

North Star's eyes widened. She looked up at me, then back down at the amulet. She repeated this twice before shaking her head.

“Princess Procho… Where the hell have you been?! You were supposed to report back two hundred and seventy years ago! And why do you look like a piece of jewelry?!”

‘So much for kinship towards your own daughter,’ I thought, features falling flat. ‘Should've expected that. At least this means Chrysalis isn't sexist or plays favorites: she abuses all of us equally.’

“Your Majesty-” Procho said reflexively, causing me to gently shake her amulet.

“Not anymore. North Star has no title.”

The former-tyrant snarled, “Enough of your games, Phasmatodea! I have been waiting for this moment for longer than you can imagine! Princess Procho, explain everything at once!”

“I- y-yes, Mother,” Procho said. “And to think I was worried they had replaced you with a fake… Our mission to the Underhive was a success. We retrieved the Adamantium and Mithril successfully.”

North Star rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes, we recovered that from your corpse. What happened, Procho?! You died a single league from the gate! I had the Underhive sealed completely, out of fear of some great monster so close to the Fourth Hive!”

“There was a great monster!” Procho confirmed, voice dropping low. “Many of them. But the worst was…. We couldn't kill it. It followed us, and we couldn't kill it.”

“What was it?” I asked, curiosity increasing.

I had learned about some of the megafauna of the Underhive, and there were some really horrendous things down there.

“We couldn't kill it,” Procho repeated. “We couldn't- I had to lure it away. It picked us off, one by one- I had to lure it away so that Midge could escape. Did she… make it?”

“There were no survivors from your expedition,” North Star said coldly. “I had ordered you to survive, not to sacrifice yourself for one measly drone!”

“Midge died?!” Procho gasped. “Was it all in vain? N-no, I successfully lured it away. If it had attacked the Fourth Hive…”

“What was it?” I pressed again.

“I can't remember,” she admitted. “Only bits and pieces remain from those days, and nothing of that thing.”

“You can't remember what killed you?” I asked incredulously. “I can remember what the concrete felt like under my hands when I fell. There's no way in hell you could have forgotten what killed you, not even after three hundred years.”

“I don't remember,” she said. “I only remember where we found it. It was deep, lower than any other megafauna ever found before. My Q- Chrysalis, do you recall anything living within Requiem? Anything at all?”

North Star mulled over her question, “The records of that place are sparse. Nothing dangerous enough to kill a royal, no.”

Requiem. The deepest layer of the Underhive. A place so filled with magic that it dripped from crystals forming overnight down there. It was the source of all Mithril and most Adamantium that has ever been found. I heard tales of it, and nothing more. The ultimate goal of any expedition, the treasure trove which thousands have lost their lives to loot.

“The monster was there, gorging itself on magic,” Procho continued.

North Star scowled, “If there was such a danger close to the Fourth Hive, past expeditions would have encountered it.”

Procho continued, “We had wandered north. Far north. The usual tunnels down had been infested or blocked, so we walked further. There's something else. We found a city in the Sunless Sea. It was half-submerged, and beginning to list to the side as the ground gave way. But it was there, in that pitch black ocean. We found our way down to Requiem through it. The ponies, griffons, and everyone else on this planet don't know about the Underhive. Which means that city was…”

“The Second Hive,” I whispered in reverence.

“An older Hive, it has to be,” Procho agreed. “We didn't have time to properly investigate, too much running. There were things in the dead city. Apparitions. Visions. Ghosts. The city may have been dead, but it was far from empty.”

North Star looked at me, “A Hive in the Sunless Sea. Does that fit with Nisir's records?”

I nodded, “Tiamat Station. They must've evacuated from the First Hive to the Sunless Sea's research station and made it into the Second Hive.”

“You knew about this place?” Procho asked, bewilderment bleeding into outrage. “You knew and didn't tell anygriff?!”

North Star shook her head, “Not until this moment, thanks to your failure to report back. But King Phasma discovered both the Third Hive and the First Hive. The First Hive's records-”

“I'm sorry, what?!” Procho yelled. “So not only did the Usurper end the reign of my Queen which lasted thousands of years, and make peace with our mortal enemy, but he also found two ancient changeling civilizations?! In one year?!”

“Yep,” I said bluntly.

“And you expect me to believe that?!”

“Yep.”

Procho made a noise between snarling and skirting in derision, “Wormfood! I see madness has taken these lands, and those I held dear in a past life! I will not sit here and buy into your faces and empty boasts-”

“Be silent, girl!” North Star hissed, leaning so close to the dangling necklace that some spit got onto the gem.

‘Ew.’

North Star continued, “In but a single year, this hatchling cracked Equestria wide open, sundered its cities, and even still forged an alliance with our food that has the potential to cement the Hive Eternal's greatness forever! You may think him a self-entitled, delusional, stubborn idiot, but none can argue with results!”

“Wow,” I blinked slowly in surprise. “That might be the first time I've ever heard you admit that my way was right. And genuine praise, too?”

“Oh, shut up!” North Star bared her fangs. “If I had my way, you would have been punished for gambling our species’ future by being crushed and smeared against the walls, only to be resurrected into a new body and forced to clean your own corpse off the walls with a mop and bucket! Imbecile!”

My face pulled back into a tight grimace, “You know, that's not that bad of an idea. Maybe I should give the walls a new coat of paint in Chrysalis red. I'd have to leave out the resurrection bit, of course, but you wouldn't exactly be able to complain!”

‘From a single genuine compliment to threatening to kill me. Asshole. I need a damn drink… Fuck, is this the kind of thing that turned Celestia into a washed-up alcoholic?’

“Where were the Hives?” Procho asked, derailing the argument.

I was still experiencing emotional whiplash and glaring daggers at North Star, so the pompous thing spoke instead.

“First Hive is to the North, inside a mountain. Third Hive is apparently to the South, under a jungle. Or it was, until someone blew it up. Idiot.”

“.... King Phasma, did you blow up one third of our species' entire history?”

“Yep.”

“Why?!” Procho wailed. “I gave my life for this Hive, yet you blew up- agh! You dimwitted, claw-dragging, flightless, featherbrained pig-fucker! There are no words to describe the desecration of-”

“Shut the hell up,” I said, letting the necklace partially slip towards the ground. The sudden drop got her to shut the hell up, so I explained, “It was nothing more than a coffin filled with the undead, anyways. I had to destroy it, or else I would have died. Its King had been possessed by a Nightmare, and he was strong enough to kill us all! I have no intention of dying again, Procho.”

“You have died, too?” She said, faltering. “No, you aren't distracting me from this. What the hell are you going I'm about, now? Nightmares?”

With a weary sigh, I recapped everything about Nightmares, from Nightmare Moon to King Sombra. For added effect, I also explained that I was from another world, killed and resurrected here. It went exactly how you'd expect.

“Yet another load of bullshit,” Procho cursed like a sailor. “You're mad. Completely mad! A creature from another world? Of all the things I've seen in my time, nothing is as ridiculous as this fantasy!”

North Star turned away and climbed on top of a threadbare bed, one of the only pieces of furniture in this miserable room.

“It's true,” she said.

“Not you, too!” Procho whined. “Somegriff clearly put lead in the Fourth Hive's water supply!’

“His story is true,” North Star insisted, examining her hoof with a bored expression, failing to hide the smirk from me. “I attempted to resurrect you from the dead, and instead ended up with him. I knew I shouldn't have cheaped out with the sacrifice and gone with actual virgins’ blood.”

The two bickered on: Procho ranted, North Star explained, only to lead to Procho ranting some more and demanding an explanation of another tangent. Given how much North Star was grinning, I'd say she was taking pleasure in making her own daughter miserable with the flood of information.

I set down Procho's amulet on a small wooden nightstand and began pacing the room. There was something about Procho's story that didn't make sense. I needed to think.

‘All of it. Her entire story doesn't make sense. How the heck could she even forget a moment of her death?! Three hundred years later, it should still be her most potent memory!’

“What in the Goddess's holy name do you mean he's only a year old?!”

‘A monster so terrible it laid waste to a team led by a battle-ready Princess. Not a single memory of the fight remains. This all sounds familiar. Scarily familiar. Could it be…? The Nightmares have been hunting changelings, but could that thing really have found its way to the Second Hive? If so, how long after the fall of the First did it take for the Second to die? Can the timeline add up?’

“Are there any more revelations I should know about? Does he shit gold?!”

‘But it has to be That Which Devours! A Nightmare, or Nightmare-borne monster, killing everything before it and leaving behind confused, rattled changelings. Procho even sounded like Princess Arista of the First Hive when they both described their monsters. Damn. Damn! If this is true, there are Nightmares in the Underhive! If they are down there, all of Nisir's defenses could be compromised.’

“I hate this place. Take me back to Griffonia, the world at least made sense back there!”

‘There's no way to maintain a coherent front line if the enemy is digging up from under our hooves. We’ll have to thoroughly check the tunnels underneath the city. At this rate, it'll be easier to pay several million bits to fund a team of Canterlot scientists and have them use seismic spells to simply map the whole system, like how humans use machines to scan the underground. Specialists, months of operations, security clearances, and thorough enough background checks that even the color of their piss is recorded…’

I rubbed my head and groaned as my train of thought derailed, “This is the strangest Christmas ever. Procho, I think I know what killed you.”

“No! No, no, no! No! No more revelations! No more talking! Any time either of you open your mouths, I feel a piece of my sanity melting away! Put me back in the drawer! I'm done with this world for today!”

I made for the door, “That's something I can get behind. Goodbye, North Star. Be good or I'll skin you alive.”

‘I need info, and time to gather it. I need Nisir's teams to get their hooves on any records they can get working, and I… shit. I need to speak with Sombra next chance I get, don't I? Trick him into revealing if That Which Devours is still down there. So much to do, so little time…’

“Wait!”

I froze, head snapped around to North Star. Mother Dearest had reached out a hoof towards me, her grin faltering into a pained expression.

“King Phasma…”

“North Star?”

Her mouth opened. Then shut. Then opened again as she struggled to speak. Finally, she cleared her throat, furrowed her brows, and jabbed a hoof towards me.

“You got lucky! Don't forget that! Your alliance with the ponies failed the first time, don't let it fail again!”

I grunted an acknowledgement, “Hmph. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were about to say thank you or I'm sorry.”

“Then it's a good thing you know me better,” she growled.

“You really think that was a Nightmare down there?” Celestia asked, fortifying her coffee with an entire bottle of whiskey.

‘Oh- make that two bottles.’

“Everything lines up,” I nodded. “Which means I have a lot more concerns about Nisir's security.”

Celestia offered me a glass, which I accepted and placed down the moment she turned her back, “Indeed. It seems the Underhive is going to be a problem. What have your changelings done about security?”

“Against the Underhive?” Pharynx asked. “We've got some enchantments on a temporary seal.”

“The forges will still work on repairing the Adamantium gate soon,” I promised. “In the meantime, we have to start mapping and sealing tunnels. We could really use a royal to help up there.”

“Find another one,” Pharynx grunted.

I sighed heavily, “I guess I can enact Operation Lazarus.”

“What's that?” Thorax asked.

“Emotionally blackmailing Chrysalis to use her fleshmancy skills to create a new body for Procho. Granted, Chr- North Star will likely jump at the chance to build a new body for her daughter, but I need to be sure they aren't gonna overthrow me or anything. Also, I have to fix Procho's soul before that can happen- and duct tape doesn't work on souls.”

Luna tapped me on the nose, causing me to recoil and snort, “In the meantime, we should order North Star to handle the dangerous work. I am certain Her Former Majesty has no room to brook arguments against the task.”

“We'll have to plan it out with her handlers,” Cadance said, mulling it over. “Maybe make a system of three weeks of tunnel duty, two weeks of light friendship building. Preferably, we can lean more on the light work and swap over to fully trying to reform her after a while.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Celestia cheered, raising her glass in a toast no one joined in on. “Phasma, is that weapons demonstration still on for this afternoon?”

“Mhmm. Furthermore, I'll have to bring every one of you into a dream tonight. Luna, I'll obviously need your help for that. It's time to show you how humans wage war. We're going to need every advantage we can get against the Nightmares, after all…”

Basemont, which the Canterlot locals referred to as The Basement, was a small community nestled at the base of Mount Canterhorn, hence the name. Mostly, it functioned as a nexus for shipping and smaller manufacturing shops. Given it'd position as the first stop on Canterlot's rail line, it also was the jumping off point for any pony wishing to hike, camp, or otherwise enjoy the countryside.

It also had a thriving weapons manufacturing district.

Okay that was a lie, more like a struggling district. Most of the E.U.P.’s stuff was made in-house, but for any private security guards and any niche items the military used, Basemont was the way to go for quality. As it just so happened, there was one business that supplied niche weapons to the E.U.P. that had piqued my interest.

Cadance looked rather put off by today's business, glaring at the nearby snowdrifts as if they spilled her morning coffee. Celestia and Luna fared better, instead looking bored as the ponies set up equipment in the firing range.

Yeah, firing range. That was the real reason why this company was here in Basemont and not in Canterlot.

“Spelljammers?” Shining Armor questioned as the ponies wheeled out my prototype. “The Guard already has a dozen cannons, King Phasma.”

The ornate gold cannons fired crystal balls that could be enchanted up to a hundred days prior to a fight before losing potency. For maximum effectiveness, they were enchanted right before firing.

“Inaccurate, costly, and largely ignored,” I listed off. “This is an upgrade. Oh Captain, my Captain, between a war mage and a spelljammer, which is proffered in battle,”

“Battle mage every time,” he answered, leaning forward to examine the artillery piece.

“Right! A mage is far more versatile than these big ol’ boomsticks. These spelljammers were used typically only in siege situations to allow less capable unicorns to easily combine their power to fire upon a city’s walls.”

Celestia nodded, “And as you said, they are inaccurate and too costly to use in any other situation. What makes this cannon different?”

“Range hot!” The range master called out, the ancient stallion giving me a nod. “You are clear to fire, Your Majesty!”

With a dramatic flourish, I pointed out to a series of targets down range, “Behold! The horde of Nightmares charges our lines! Out of range of any bow, and any spell fired would be slow enough to counter with a shield! But the spell-infused cannon balls of a spelljammer are too fast and too strong to be shielded against, making the perfect weapon!”

Cadance raised an eyebrow, “You solved the inaccuracies?”

“Sort of!” I proudly declared, and signaled the crew of two unicorns standing at the ready. “First target! Fireball! Fire at will!”

Each pair of ears in the range flattened backwards, pressing down onto earplugs, as the cannon boomed. A glowing purple light spat from the mouth of the large and ornate gold cannon, spinning a trail of blue embers as it screamed across the range. The cannon rang in everyone's ears and vibrated teeth with the unmistakable ‘Kuh-shurrrr!’ of a Soviet missile artillery.
The group of five wooden pony cutouts two hundred and fifty meters down range was obliterated in a massive fireball, the snow around them flash boiled.

‘Katyushas are back, and they sound angrier than ever!’

“Second target! Lightning!”

The unicorns lifted a crystal bullet the size of their torso into the mouth of the cannon, pushing it in. One recharged the firing plate by channeling magic into the firing wick, and they looked back to me for the command as they both enchanted the shot.

“Fire!”

Another scream accompanies another bright light- yellow this time- as the spelljammer made to kill its foes at five hundred meters (lengths, as the locals called it). The shot fell wide to the right, but it hardly mattered. The round shattered, expelling its deadly payload; arcs of lightning crackled all around it, like the center of a spiderweb too painful too look at. The wooden targets were ripped to shreds and scorched black, as was much of the ground around the remains of the shell.

“Third target! Earth shatter!”

Load, recharge, enchant, readjust aim, stand at the ready.

“Fire!”

One thousand meters away, a large smudge of cut outs stood in line formation. Death screamed towards them, a reddish-brown hue trailing embers of black. It hit the right side of the line, far from the center, but it didn't matter one bit; a massive spike of stone shot up from the impact- the tallest peak of a hundred similar spikes, each lowering in height and angle as they spread out from the impact like a wave. Targets were, once more, reduced to wood chips in the onslaught that rose from beneath their hooves.

“Fourth! Hell round!”

One thousand five hundred meters. An entire mile. It took a magnifying spell to see them at all.

“Fire!”

The ponies ducked away from the cannon as they fired. It rocked back on its heavy wooden base. The rear frame, the long piece which hooked up to a cart to allow the artillery to be moved, dug a furrow in the dirt as the cannon was pushed back.

At the mouth of the weapon, a wide ring of displaced air rippled out, and a cannon shell screamed out for one final time. The white light hiccuped: the pain-inducing screech interrupted itself with consistent fwuffs as similar ring-shaped shockwaves periodically pulsed from the shell.

Given that I designed the damn shell, I knew that the round was actually sucking in air and displacing it behind the round, pulling itself forward and gaining speed as it bared down upon its victims.

The kinetic impact would have shattered a stone wall. Instead, it threw up a cloud of dirt perfectly in the center of the cluster of targets. The dirt vanished instantly as everything within twenty meters, or fifty hooves length, was sucked into wards the round, then with a delayed boom was violently ejected. Scraps of wood and a hail of dirt filled the air around the implosion. Not a single target was left standing, and a neat crater was gouged in the center of the explosion radius. Finally, anything within an additional thirty meters would have been gunned down by the hail of fragmentation.

The ponies staggered back as the sound hit us a second after impact.

“Stallions, mares, for your consideration: Spelljamer two-point-oh, Howitzer edition.”

The alicorns and Royal Guard looked at each other, bewildered at the new effectiveness of what was a mere curiosity before I added rifling and changed the crystal balls into crystal bullets.

“We'll take a hundred,” Luna grinned.